Recap of Chapter 10
Larka all but clawed her nails over is shoulders and back. She was shaking from the increased blood flow and hormones running through her system. Every muscle seemed to move on its own. She knew what she wanted, and she was damn well sure Brynjolf wanted the same thing.
Because of the lack of windows down in the bowels of Riften, it was difficult to tell when a new day had dawned. Those in the sewers just had to trust their built in alarm clocks. Larka and Brynjolf both ignored theirs the next morning, sleeping half the day away. Luckily, none of the other thieves disturbed them, although they exchanged knowing grins when either of the missing thieves' names were mentioned.
Larka awoke with a smile on her lips. Stretching like a cat and sitting up to lean against the head board of the bed, she studied her still sleeping lover. Perhaps lover wasn't quite the right term, they were more than that. Brynjolf lay on his side facing the younger thief, mouth agape and drooling quite unattractively. A lock of his auburn hair was in his face, fluttering ever so slightly as he breathed. Larka sat quietly, admiring him as he slept. He truly was a beautiful creature, even with the drool and the morning breath. The women thought of the night before, how they spent the time to get to know each other in the most intimate way: to know each other in their most vulnerable form. Slowly and lightly, as not to disturb his sleep, Larka ran her fingers up and down his arm, and ghosted over his face, feeling the stubble that had started to grow on his jaw. "What a lucky girl I am, eh, Nocturnal?" she whispered with a grin. Despite her intentions, not to wake him, he stirred as she kissed his forehead gently.
The Nightingale gave a grunt, and looked around bleary eyed, his face breaking out into the biggest smile as his gaze rested on Larka. "Good morning, lass. Or should I say afternoon? What time is it?" She smiled, "Does it matter?" He chuckled, sitting up and giving her a soft kiss on the lips. "Not one bit as long as I am with you." Larka couldn't quell the feeling of giddiness that rose up inside of her. "I suppose not, my red haired thief, as long as we are together." She kissed him back, nuzzling closer to him. "But I do have to report to Delvin about my Solstheim escapade."
Groaning rather loudly and unnecessarily, Brynjolf flopped back onto the bed. "Do you have to?" he whined, "Wouldn't you much rather stay here with me?" She laughed at his intended childish behavior. "Of course I would, my love, but work has to be done first. I'm not going anywhere." Narrowing her eyes playfully, "Unless you plan on going somewhere." The red head put his hand over his heart in mock hurt, "Lass, you wound me. Why would I want to go anywhere when everything I could ever want or need is right here?" He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto him, kissing her deeply. Larka giggled thought the kiss, which suddenly turned into a surprised shriek as Brynjolf began to ticker her. "BRYNJOLF! YOU TROLL, STOP THAT!" she screamed through uncontrollable laughter. "IF YOU DON'T WANT A BROKEN NOSE YOU WILL STOP RIGHT NOW!" It was all said with good intent, for Larka didn't want to be held responsible for whatever injuries caused to him by her flailing about.
Laughing loudly, Brynjolf stopped the torture. "I didn't know you were so ticklish, Larka, I'll have to keep that in mind." He grinned mischievously. She shot him a look, "If you value your family jewels and your pretty face, you wouldn't dare." The older thief's grin didn't waiver, "I'll take my chances."
Sometime later, both Brynjolf and Larka walked into the Cistern. The younger had a skip in her step, and the red head had a grin plastered to his face that could not be removed. Larka waltzed over to the Flagon after a parting kiss with Brynjolf, who went to go over a few things in the ledger with Sapphire. In the Flagon, the young Nightingale found the Guildmaster and sat in the vacant seat across from him. "Well well well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence. We were all beginning to think that Dibella had kidnapped you both. Or is Brynjolf still indisposed? I hope you didn't wear him out to badly, with his 'old age' and all." Delvin quirked a brow. Larka only grinned, "Nah, he's in one piece, I didn't work him too hard, in fact I think it was the other way around. He's quite flexible, who would have thought!" It was her turn to quirk a brow. "What's the matter, Delvin? You're going a bit pink?" His only response was a snort. "Alright, alright, enough of that." The Lark laughed. Twirling his tankard on the table, the Guildmaster grumbled, still a light shade of pink. "Just tell me how my dearest brother is before I can't look at you in the eye anymore."
I'm sorry if you are disappointed with the ending, I didn't want to go too far since it's my first published fanfiction. I also didn't want to drag the story out too much. I could build on this if I wanted to, but I'm moving on to a bigger story I have been writing forever. On another note, for those people who left reviews, I'm sorry about not replying! I'm still learning to navigate the site. Please know that I really appreciate it! As always, please excuse any grammar errors or typos. I try to catch them all but sometimes miss some. May your road lead you to warm sands.