How to Pickpocket a Pickpocket

Chapter 23

The familiar smell of home was the first thing Artis noticed as she awakened. The faint smell of lavender and tundra cotton invaded her nose and she felt her body melt further into the bed. Opening one eye, she smiled at the glorious sight of her own room in her former house. Even though it's small and cramped, leaving almost no space to walk, she has never been happier to see a room like that one ever before in her life. However, as she turned onto her side, she noticed the covers of the left side of the bed were pulled downwards, as if someone slept there with her. Suddenly, she bolted up, remembering the previous night and the man she shared a bed with for the... second time? Where was Brynjolf?

The door of her room slowly opened. She half expected to see her mother there, a warm smile on her face and a cup of lavender tee in her hand. But instead there stood a tall redhead in her doorway, shirtless with a tankard and a plate of apple dumplings in his hands.

"Morning, lass." He greeted cheerfully and entered the room, carefully placing the tankard and plate on the bedside table, "Thought I'd treat you a bit, as a thank you for sharing your bed with me."

Artis eyed him in surprise, "Uh, thank you. I honestly thought you'd be at the inn, drinking bottle after bottle of mead already."

Bryn clasped a hand over his chest in fake offence, "Well, I'll never! Now why would I go to the pub when I can stay here and watch you sleep. You know you mumble in your sleep, right, lass? If I'm not mistaken, you muttered something about me having an amazing ass."

She rolled her eyes and playfully punched him on the arm, "Have you eaten yet?"

Brynjolf flopped down on the bed at her feet, "Yes, your mother stuffed me with warm ale and dumplings the moment I set foot out of your room. She had to run to the trader, though, so I thought I'd see to it that you get something to eat as well."

Brynjolf watched as she dug into the food and downed the tankard of ale. The previous night would forever be in his thoughts, having her that close to him, hearing her voice ever so soft as she said his name. He lied awake hours after she had fallen asleep, just staring at her fondly. He would've never guessed that she would crawl under his skin as quickly as she did. What was it, but two or three weeks they've known each other? It could be more. It could be less. Honestly, Brynjolf felt as if they knew each other for ages. To think, if she didn't pickpocket him back in Riften a few months ago, they would've never been sitting on her bed like they did right now.

A thought crossed his mind when he remembered how they met. He reached down and grabbed his armor off the floor, searching the pockets. Finally, he pulled out a small wooden box and lazily played with it in front of her. Artis' eyes caught him playing with the box and immediately she recognized it as the object she stole from him that one, particular day.

"Ah, you know it." He smirked and stroked his thumb over the lid, "This right here, lass, was the whole reason why we met. If it wasn't for this little box, then I would've never met the best thief in Skyrim."

She met his eyes, "Yes, and what an unfortunate day that was, but I wouldn't change any of it." She took a sip of the ale, "What is in it, if I may ask?"

Bryn chuckled, "Something I stumbled upon years ago. It's part of a collection and is missing the rest of the pieces. But, over the years I've never found anything like it again. So, I found another use for it." He gently took her hand and placed the box in her palm.

Artis carefully let her fingers trail over the wooden lid before opening it. Her eyes widened at the sight of a gem stone she has only seen once before. It was unusual and yet so mesmerizing at the same time. It actually floated instead of just lying still in the box.