NOTE (4/21/15) This thing is really old, and I'm sorry if the fight between Idala and Brynjolf was offensive to anyone. I'd meant it to be a tussle between thieves, not to mention Nordic culture seems entirely fine with two people breaking out into a fistfight just over an insult or a petty bet. As it is, I don't even ship these two romantically anymore.

Well, this is the first little one-shot for my Legends of Tamriel compilation! I quite enjoyed writing this, and might do more with Idala in the future. Hope you all enjoy this little detour! Also, this little thing came into my mind thanks to a conversation with Thunder, so I'd like to dedicate it to her for giving me the idea. :3

Warning: This contains some Thieves' Guild questline spoilers. Though I'd let you all know!

(So sorry if there are any errors or awkward transitions, I wrote this as quickly as I could. XD)

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I now had everything I'd never even dreamed I would be lucky enough to receive. Loyal friends, a stable, well, relatively stable, income, and I had the honor of Guildmaster under my belt to boot. I, and I alone, was now one of the most powerful people in Riften, the very heart of the Thieves Guild. They had become my family, and I somehow managed to make my way to the top of it all.

I was wonderfully set up, with a life many would kill for. Yet I felt somewhat hollow, as if all my achievements, though great, were lacking.

It was most likely because my feats were completely lost on the one I strove to impress with them the most.

This particular person had been the one who'd led me into the Guild about two years ago, finding me in the Bee and Barb sitting by myself with barely a coin to my name. What made him single me out, Divines know, but he did. He asked me to assist him with the job of slipping some poor soul a stolen ring in order to frame them, and promised to pay me well for it. Of course, I'd do anything to keep from straight out begging, and even then I found him somewhat attractive, so I agreed to it, and did my job. The look of approval on his face once I'd finished up was practically as good as the payment I received, and when he told me to seek out the Ragged Flagon, what else could I do?

Of course, I was both naïve and desperate back then, considering how utterly foolish it was of me to follow the advice of a stranger, but it certainly paid off in the end. True, there were painful realizations, betrayals, and more near-death experiences than I would've liked to have participated in, but in the end, it was most certainly worth it. Or it would be, should he ever acknowledge me with more than just mild pleasantries from time to time.

Even as Guildmaster, sometimes it felt as if Brynjolf didn't even know I was alive, and it was killing me.

And of course, my traitor of a heart would fall for someone who wouldn't give me the time of day. But I couldn't help but wonder, what had happened since the days that he was actually supportive of me, when he told me that he believed I could help save the Guild. Had I done something wrong?

No, you haven't. He's not worth your time. Let him be self-important and cold. People change, let him go, Idala, my common sense urged, though, unfortunately, it did little to settle the cold, hopeless feeling in my gut.

Sighing, I stretched slightly in the uncomfortable wooden chair I was currently sitting in, trying to keep my nerves from falling asleep. Today was relatively slow, and most of my friends and colleagues were just milling about, gambling and exchanging stories. It wasn't a bad day, to be sure, but I didn't know how much longer I could deal with my mixed feelings concerning that particular red-haired Nord.

An idea and a random boost of courage coming to me all at once, I stood, a determined look on my face. I was tired of wondering about him, and I was going to confront him and be done with this whole thing.

I made my way towards Brynjolf's usual spot, keeping my face as emotionless as I could. As I'd thought, he was there, half-reclining against a worn wall, just staring off into space quite uselessly. At this, I frowned slightly, hesitating.

Evidently I hesitated too long, because he noticed I was there and turned to look at me somewhat quizzically, asking, "Need something?"

"Actually, yes. Brynjolf, I need to talk to you about something that's been on my-"

"Sorry, lass, but I've got more important things to do," he responded quickly, getting to his feet with a blank and painfully neutral face as he spoke, "Perhaps another time?"

These words hit me like an arrow straight through the heart, and it certainly wasn't in a romantic sense. I just stared at him, fists clenching and unclenching as I trembled with rage, my earlier heartsickness momentarily eradicated. How dare he? How dare he tell me, the Guildmaster he was too busy for me?

My vision blurred as I momentarily lost control of myself; the only thing I was aware of was the sound of flesh hitting flesh and when my sight cleared, I saw I'd slapped the man, the outline of my hand displayed in bright red across his right cheek. The thief was paying full attention to me now, his expression bewildered and slightly fearful.

I finally managed to find my voice, though it was filled with more venom than I would've liked to be when I told him, "More important things to do, eh? Like what? Check out the ceiling from a new angle? Lounge around the Ragged Flagon and do nothing, as always? Do you really harbor that much dislike for me, Brynjolf? I'm tired of you treating me like I don't matter, like I'm beneath your notice; I want to know why you've been acting like this since I became a Nightingale, and I want to know now. Not whenever you particularly feel like engaging in a civil conversation with me, which probably wouldn't happen in a thousand years, considering the way you've been treating me! I can't believe you, I really can't! You supported me and vouched for me during my rise in the Guild when the others would've laughed me right out, and now you're acting almost worse than they did! And... And... Damn it..." I realized I was crying slightly, and paused my tirade, roughly wiping the sleeve of my light armor across my face.

"Lass, I-"

"Don't you 'lass' me," I responded, most of my earlier fire gone, but enough remained that I wasn't going to let him cut me off, " You have no idea how obnoxious and utterly frustrating your abruptness, how many times a day I've caught myself wondering what I've done to distance myself from you, if it was my fault that we don't talk, that we rarely even interact. But it seems that it's not my fault, even though I've played the fool. I'm tired, so tired of trying to prove my worth to a person who doesn't care a whit about me-"

Suddenly I was sent reeling as an explosion of pain erupted in the nerves of my face, the impact stinging as I realized that the Nord had hauled off and hit me right back. My facial features narrowed into a snarl as I glared at Brynjolf, but he silenced me with a look twice as infuriated as my own. I found myself quite unable to find my tongue as he now spoke, saying, "Idala, you're being ridiculous. I am a busy man, and I carry my own weight here. I've done plenty things for the Guild in the past, and I've continued to do so. And you owe me, in case you-"

Those words helped me find my tongue quickly enough, especially considering it sounded he'd ignored most of what I'd said, "I owe you, huh? That so? Then whaddya want me to do then? I've saved your precious Guild, made our profits increase twofold since I joined, and made us a force to be reckoned with; what else do you want me to do, Brynjolf? Throw myself into the Ratway waters to make them just the perfect height for your tastes? That's about the only thing I haven't done around here. If anyone owes anyone anything, it's you owing me. And yes, I know, I wouldn't even have this position if not for Nightbrook stepping down, but, well, he's a different story..." I trailed off awkwardly, which allowed my current adversary to get more of his argument in.

"Idala, where would you be if I hadn't given you that job to steal Madesi's ring, eh? Back when we first crossed paths at the Bee and Barb? Where would you be? Begging? Or dead, even? You looked more than a little desperate for some sort of employment at the time."

"Where would you be, if you hadn't recruited me? Still at your dead-end honest job? Or dead, killed by Mercer? That goes two ways, you know," I shot back, thinking, And I did my best to make sure none of those things happened... And this is the thanks I get.

"What was that?"

Oh, Divines, did I just say that out loud? I flushed slightly, but managed to hide it quickly, responding curtly, "Nothing that concerns you, it seems. You've expressed your frustration and utter indifference towards me other than having me 'owe' you something, so I think I'm quite done here-"

"Don't you walk away after say something like that, lass," Brynjolf's irritated expression turned slightly less hostile as he continued, "What exactly did you mean?"

"I'd rather not explain."

"I'd rather you would. Is it possible the stone-hearted dunmer of the group actually cares about people other than herself?" Brynjolf grinned slightly, crossing his arms as my face turned even brighter.

"I... Oh, you son of horker, you're impossible! At least you're acting remotely like you used to. This, as a matter of fact, is why we got into this mess in the first place. You've been acting like a self-important pain in the neck lately, and I can't stand it, because, well..."

"Because what?" The thief prompted, and I was about to smack him for this behavior when I heard a very familiar voice call out, "Just tell her you love her too and kiss already!"

Both Brynjolf and I turned in surprise and embarrassment to find the source of the voice, and our eyes landed on a certain cutpurse by the last name of Mallory just sitting there amusedly as if he was watching a play, the grin on his face slightly unsettling.

"Well, Bryn? You know you like her. Go on," he prompted, and the Nord's face turned as red as his hair.

"Shut up, Delvin, or I'll-" I hissed, causing the Breton to snort unconcernedly.

"Or you'll what?"

I exchanged a glance with Brynjolf, and he nodded slightly. This wasn't lost on Mallory, and the teasing look on his face slowly died away.

Needless to say, Mallory hid in the most out-of-the way, secluded places in the Ratway for a solid week before he dared to come back to the flagon after his little 'interference'.

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NO FLUFF FOR YOU. :D

At least, not this time. You never know... If it's requested, maaaaybe...

So yeah. Did you enjoy this little story? Please, do let me know! This is very different than the stuff I've done before, so I'm really excited and a bit nervous about your opinions. XD

Well, as always, please leave a comment and/or a vote if you enjoyed the story, and good adventuring, dear readers!

- AA