At her words, Brynjolf merely grinned and shrugged. He was well aware of such things, of course. There was no possible way to keep the citizens of Riften from talking — and he knew well enough that he was part of that problem. If one didn’t want to be spoken about so much, one typically wouldn’t be so damn mysterious, hm? Or one could make an honest living, live an average and unremarkable life. None of those were entirely appealing to Bryn, however. And so it was all only natural.
“Well, maybe I just don’t like the elf, hm?” he replied, watching Mjoll with a slight smile for a moment. “I can’t go giving everyone god-like powers, now, can I? What would become of the city, eh?”
It was easy enough to recognize that the Lioness was debating about simply walking away; her glance at the market was a dead give away. The fact that she didn’t, that she turned back to him, was a good sign — it was all Brynjolf could do to keep from grinning wolfishly at her.
Now, if he wasn’t mistaken (which he highly doubted he was), that was an accusation she had just tossed in his direction. “Ah, lass, just because I might not make a completely honest living, it doesn’t make me a thief.” Which might have been true, if not for his actual status. “I assure you, none of my potions do any harm.” After a momentary pause, that smile of his reappeared. “So that would make you an exception to the rule, now, wouldn’t it?”
"What has Brand-Shei ever done to you?" her question was reasonable and fair, one that ought to be asked in such situations, "Did he sell you something faulty?" she asked before stopping abrupty, "Oh…wait." she fake pondered, "That’s just what you do." she joked, somewhat insultingly before placing her hands on her hips and giving the man another cheeky smile, "Well, my mother always said, ‘If you don’t have enough to give to everyone, don’t share at all’."
What had been compelling her to stay in front of the auburn-haired snake was beyond her, but she stayed. Their conversation was intriguing and somewhat enjoyable, if only because it had been so long since she had last had a war of the words with someone. He was definitely a wolf ins sheeps clothing, Mjoll knew that much - and she knew that it wa so wrong to be talk to a dishonest man. Why did it have to feel so good?
"…yes it does. You’re stealing people’s trust." she spoke with a matter of fact tone before lifting her chin to him, "You lie, which is just another way of thieving. You, sir…" she poked his chest and tilted her head to the side, "Are a thief." her statement was true and rolled off her tongue with ease before giving him a soft shrug, "Not really. Like I said, still a thief."
He sat across from her shaking his head and snickering under his breath. “Oh the cook would be happier if we just left him alone, I think. He is not much of a.. People person.” That and it was the smallest amount Ulfric had made the man cook in a long time, so it would feel a little pointless. Usually when there was a meal made it was for everyone in the castle so fixing up something just for one was hardly anything.
At her question, Ulfric rests his elbows on the table and lets out a long sigh. He glances about at the guards, wondering how honest he should be in their presence, but in the end decides it matters little and shakes his head. “I’ve been.. Tired, Mjoll. Very tried. Fighting for what is right when the whole world seems so wrong is not a easy task. Everyday there are soldiers out there dying by my order and what does it accomplish? A stand still. We take something from the Empire, they take it back.. I fear this war will go on till the Dominion swoops in and takes us all..” He trails off, fidgeting with a splinter of wood between his fingers. Perhaps he had said too much.
"It seems as though you tend to hire people who aren’t so interested in people." the lioness teased before smirking, "Might be a reflection on the person hiring them." she added before raising her eyebrows to him in a cheeky manner before the two of them took a seat at the table and started to share their feast. The hall was practically empty, most of the men retreating to the inn for some drinks before bed.
The honest answer coming from the Jarl’s lips was shocking and almost startling; never had she seen the leader of the rebellion seem so defeated and tired. This, in no way, caused her lack any respect for him, she knew he would keep fighting to the death for his people, “You are doing what you feel is right.” she stated before placing a reassuring hand on the older man’s shoulder, “That is all your people ask of you.” her words were sincere as she gave him a stirn look, “A stand still is much better than going backward.” The Lioness was trying her hardest to keep the man’s spirit up, knowing that the fateof Skyrim hung in the balance, “They will not - we are Nords, we fight much better than any of those pointy eared bastards.” Mjoll was not racist by any means. Having traveled throughout SKyrim, she made great friends with many races, but the Thalmor was something completely different - they were evil embodied.
It had been a long time since the Lioness had found herself in the quiet town of Riverwood. Being just outside Whiterun, a lot of trades came through, but all in all it was peaceful. With a simple sac on her back, paired with a battleaxe, she seemed somewhat out of place.
Making her way to the Sleeping Giant, the weary adventurer walked into the calm and almost deserted inn. The transaction between herself and the woman on the other side of the counter was swift and almost immediately, she was shown to her room.
Setting down her things, Mjoll sighed heavily, “I need a drink,” she murmured to herself before heading back to the innkeeper. Ordering an ale, she scanned the area, spotting a face that seemed somewhat familiar. Quickly, she grabbed the bottle and made her what to the blond Nord sitting at a bench tankard in hand, “Ralof, my friend. It is good to see you.”
2. A date
4. A fight
5. A long-term relationship
6. To get married
7. To live together
8. A kiss
9. To cuddle
10. To go on holiday together
11. A joke
12. A present
13. Just to have a nice conversation
14. To see you naked
15. A baby
“Well, that’s too bad,” Brynjolf replied, watching her almost curiously as she spoke. She seemed to have a point — and he had been doubtful as to whether or not it would work in the first place. Mjoll wasn’t going to be terribly easy to manipulate into anything, now, was she? But it wasn’t as if she had a reputation for such. “You’re worried about being vulnerable in a crowd like this?” he inquired, a brow raised. Ah, he should have known better than to assume she was unarmed. No matter what she wore, it was likely she had some form of weapon on her. It seemed they had things in common. “You’re a smart lass.”
“If I needed a potion for that I wouldn’t have sold Haelga the last of my Falmer Blood Elixir,” he informed her, raising a brow and shooting her a smirk in regards to her wandering eyes. “I assure you, all of my customers are satisfied ones.”
“Now you’re insulting my pride,” he warned her, giving her a look of mock offence. “All of my wares are honest. I don’t believe you have any proof to the contrary…?” It wasn’t entirely true, of course. In fact, it was far from true. Nothing he sold was honest, or legitimate — the potions had no adverse affects, but they certainly didn’t do what he claimed they did (although some managed to convince themselves that they did, in fact, work wonders). And, of course, there were the stolen goods. But that was another matter entirely. “You’re not going to believe every rumour to come from this city, are you?”
Standing there, in front of a man who obviously tended to live his life like a snake, she was wondering why she was even giving him the time of day. It was obvious that the way he made his living was anything but honest - yet, she stood there, talking to him. Or was it flirting? Mjoll couldn’t tell. It had been so long since the last time she had been with anyone in a romantic setting; such things never really appealed to her. All of her life, all she cared about was traveling Tamriel and exploring tombs learning new things. Romance never really crossed her mind.
"You name is said quite a bit around here." she started, arching her brows at him, "They’re not necessarily all positive." she added before shrugging, "I feel that to be proof enough." she paused before a moment and gave him a small smirk, "I heard Brand-Shei wasn’t entirely happy with his last purchase from you - something about the potion just being juniper berries and plain ale." she explained before looking around the market place once more, debating whether to walk away or not.
Turning her attention back to Brynjolf, she eyed him up and down, “Isn’t that what this city is made of?” she inquired, “Lies. Rumors.” she started, “Thieves.” she emphasized, her eyes locking onto his in almost a threatening stare, wanting to get her point across.
SEND ME MORE PERSONAL QUESTIONS! I WANNA GET THE Q&A VIDEO UP TONIGHT!
"A crush?" she pondered for a moment before furrowing her eyebrows, "I suppose you could say that I used to have a ‘crush’ on the leader of the rebellion, Ulfric Stormcloak. But now that we have grown to know each other much better, I would call him more of a father figure than anything else." she shrugged before sighing softly, "Sorry, I’m not all that interesting."
"Another one? By the divines…" she paused for a moment before continuing, "If I had to pick sides, I would choose the rebellion - I would much rather fight for my country, than the Imperials."
"Though I may not seem the submissive type, a dominant man is something that really gets me going." A light blush formed on her cheeks as she continued, "But, I also enjoy the fight for dominance, time and again."
Waking eyes were hazed and cloudy as she drew in a deep breath. Once again, the Lioness had found herself drinking more mead than her body could handle. A low groan left her lips as she turned over in bed, expecting to find herself alone. Immediately, she realized that wasn’t case; eyes widening, she saw the sleeping figure in front of her - the back of a bald head all that she was able to see.
The Lioness didn’t even need to see the man’s face before she let out a gasp and sat up in bed, finding herself naked. Grabbing the blankets, she covered herself before looking around in search of something blunt to hit Delvin with.
With no luck, she opted for her fists, pounding against his head and shoulders, “YOU SON OF A BITCH! WHAT IN OBLIVION ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED!?”