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argisthebulwark · 3 years

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hey thanks @somethingscarlet13 for submitting this to me unfortunately tumblr has decided that submissions are not allowed so we’re goin with old reliable (copy and paste into textpost).

That ask about Karliah saving tld because she doesn’t want Bryn to go through what she went through made me think that what if she didn’t? What if her arrow was just a little too far to the side and she couldn’t save tld even though once she realized her mistake she tried desperately for hours to bring them back, far past the point of them becoming cold she’s still trying to revive them. And instead of redeeming herself by bringing the dragonborn back alive she redeems herself by bringing back their body and when Brynjolf sees their lifeless corpse he collapses to his knees, letting out inhuman animal wails of grief. Later he finds her and asks her “how did you do it? when mercer killed gallas, how did you survive?” And she replies, “I didn’t”

(Why do all my asks always get way too long? Anyways, here you go)

ah man. i’ve written this moment a lot but it always has a happy ending. guess it’s time for a less happy ending.

Content warnings: Canon typical violence, blood, and character death. Multiple mentions of deceased character’s body. Grief and depression. It’s pretty sad, fellas. If you aren’t a fan of character death or big huge angst avert your eyes.

“I’ll be sure to give Brynjolf your regards.”

Brynjolf loved this woman. Karliah had aimed well, trying to hit her shoulder so that the poison would get into her bloodstream quickly without hitting any major organs. She’d watched silently when Mercer’s dagger struck home and prayed to any god that would listen that the poison would work. It was meant to slow Mercer’s heart for hours while Karliah extracted every bit of information from him, making him feel every bit of pain that Gallus had felt, but not kill him. She’d perfected it for that exact purpose.

The poison didn’t work.

Karliah crouched beside the woman, ignoring the blood pooling under her body. She was pale and her chest was still. Karliah wound clean linen around the woman’s abdomen until the bleeding seemed to stop but she still wouldn’t wake up. Maybe the poison had been too strong since she’d planned for Mercer, who was much larger than the girl he’d dragged along.

The woman was limp in her arms when Karliah carried her out of Snow Veil Sanctum. Karliah begged her to breathe, to wake up and fight her way free, anything to prove that she was still alive. Even when Karliah laid the woman onto a bedroll and rewrapped her wounds she didn’t move.

Karliah waited for hours. She poured healing potions down the woman’s throat, summoned the little bits of magic she’d never bothered to practice and tried to heal her, even tried the chest compressions she’d learned to help people breathe again. Nothing worked. The woman would not wake up.

“Please.” Karliah begged when the sun began to set. The cold wind whipped around them but Mercer had killed the horses, leaving her stranded. It felt like the part of her chest that had been locked away for the past 25 years was cracking open again. “Please don’t die on him.”

She didn’t wake up. Karliah trudged through the knee deep snow, teeth chattering in the evening chill. She couldn’t let him win. She would not take the blame for another of Mercer’s murders. She tucked her arms inside her coat and fought her way across the tundra until reaching the Windhelm stables, easily stealing a horse under the cover of night.

The ride back to her small campsite was tense. She’d tucked the woman into a bedroll and hoped that she would return to find her confused and angry but alive. She’d asked the woman once again to wake up even if it was just for a few moments but had been met with silence.

The woman’s body was undisturbed. Karliah’s hands shook when she hauled the heavy bedroll onto the back of the horse. The only trace of their visit was the dead horses Mercer had left behind. Not much she could do about that.

Karliah set off into the dead of night again. Her body was exhausted; she’d spent days perfecting her trip through Snow Veil Sanctum and setting the traps necessary, sneaking through the Draugr and Falmer as another layer of protection against Mercer.

Though her body craved sleep her mind railed against the thought of rest. She had to get back to Riften even if it meant leaving herself at a disadvantage against the Guild. She’d only seen the woman a few times during her observations of the thieves but it had been obvious from the first time.

The two had a habit of touching each other’s faces while speaking, a silent offer of affection. She made Brynjolf laugh and he carried her back to the Cistern after dinner at the Bee and Barb. When they left on jobs they always seemed to leave together. This woman had clearly loved Brynjolf and been loved by him.

She never should have been there. Mercer had to know what he was doing. He’d said something about the winds of fate changing because of this woman and disgust rose up in Karliah’s throat. He’d planned on killing her regardless of Karliah’s presence in the same place Gallus had rested for nearly three decades. He was going to blame her, allow her exile from the Guild to serve as proof.

Brynjolf deserved more than an empty grave. He deserved more than a goodbye to a cold corpse too but it was the most that Karliah could offer him. He deserved to spend his days being loved by the woman that made him laugh. He deserved to have something for himself, something separate from the Guild.

Karliah had hoped for a life for him, the young man that she’d been forced to abandon due to Mercer. She wanted him to have a life. She wanted him to be happy. He deserved to say goodbye to the woman he loved but Karliah’s dread grew heavier with each mile she travelled. She was condemning him to the same hell she’d experienced for decades.

The watery sun of early morning was beginning to break when Karliah finally entered Riften. The Ratways hadn’t changed a bit in her years of absence, she noticed with a heavy heart. She carried the woman in her unsteady arms and silently prayed that she wouldn’t be killed on sight. Gallus’ encrypted journal weighed heavily in her pack and kept her somewhat balanced when she kicked open the door of the Ragged Flagon.

No one spoke a word when Karliah carried the woman’s body into the Cistern but their glares said plenty. Mercer had clearly gotten to them all. She could stomach their mindless hatred for a few more moments. Her legs were quivering under the strain when she finally stood in the doorway of the Cistern. In the face of the thieves, Karliah realized that she would have to face Brynjolf.

She would have to be the one to tell him. She would have to explain the wounds in the body she’d carried all the way home from Snow Veil Sanctum. She would have to look into the eyes of the boy she’d watched grow up and tell him that his partner was dead.

“You better have a damn good reason to be here.“ Brynjolf spoke first and she slowly fell to her knees. She allowed the woman to rest on the stone floor of the Cistern, carefully opening the bed roll before she spoke.

"Please, lower your weapons so we can speak. I have proof that you’ve all been misled.”

“No tricks, Karliah or I’ll cut you down where you stand.”

“Brynjolf.” Her voice was already shaking when he stalked closer to her. She couldn’t look away when she saw the recognition in his eyes, the horror as he fell to his knees.

“No.” He breathed, his face contorting as if he could keep away the tears. “What the hell did you do to her?!”

“It was Mercer. He killed her just like he killed Gallus.” Karliah placed an unsteady hand on Brynjolf’s arm and noticed the rest of the thieves uneasily sheathing their weapons.

“You can’t be dead.” He was whispering, cradling the woman’s face in his hands. He brushed the hair out of her face so tenderly, each movement so loving that it felt like a stab to the heart but Karliah refused to look away. “You promised to come back. You promised me you would come back, lass. You can’t die on me.”

“I tried everything.” Karliah spoke softly, unsure if Brynjolf even registered her voice. He was leaning over the woman, tugging the bed roll away to see the bandages wrapped around her body, the blood smeared over her armor. “I tried to save her, Brynjolf.”

“Please.” He sobbed, holding her hand up against his cheek. Karliah’s vision dissolved into a bleary mess of tears when she remembered the last time she’d observed it, when they’d been plotting something together in the graveyard. “Please, lass. Don’t leave me.”

No one said a word. No one interrupted when Brynjolf’s wails rung through the Cistern, echoing again and again as if the walls themselves mocked him. Karliah’s hand remained on his shoulder in a silent offer of comfort she hated to offer to him. A few of his fellow thieves eventually sat nearby in silent support, their glares at Karliah somewhat subdued.

“I love you.” Brynjolf mumbled into the woman’s palm, planting a shaky kiss there. “I need you to wake up and be okay.”

“I’m sorry, Brynjolf.” Karliah’s voice broke on his name, his gaze finally meeting hers. His eyes were painfully red, cheeks bright and angry where he’d scrubbed at his face, mouth open in some silent question. “I couldn’t just leave her there with Gallus.”

“Gallus.” Brynjolf said the name like it was a punch to the gut. “Mercer killed Gallus too.” He turned his eyes back to the woman, a fresh wave of sobs breaking loose. Karliah stayed with him through the night even when the others left to start tracking down Mercer. She stayed with Brynjolf while he cried and begged any of the gods to bring her back. She didn’t bother telling him that she’d already tried and the gods weren’t answering.

Karliah stayed with Brynjolf when he fell asleep on the stone floor, the woman’s hand clutched to his chest. She snagged the blankets from one of the nearby cots and folded it over him before settling into bed herself. The next day would be even worse and she was glad they would get a bit of rest.

In the morning Karliah awoke to the sound of stones scraping together. She shot upright to find Brynjolf and the woman’s body gone, the rest of the Cistern still calm. Hurrying out through the mausoleum Karliah stopped in its doorway when she saw him.

Brynjolf was kneeling near the woman’s body, his shirt soaked with sweat. Karliah watched as he kissed her hand one last time, whispering something she couldn’t hear before he lowered her into the freshly dug grave. She didn’t move when Brynjolf stood to his full height, a shaky sigh escaping him before he began refilling the grave.

When he finished Karliah stood at his side. He didn’t acknowledge her arrival, both of them staring at the headstone bearing nothing but a Shadowmark. Karliah waited, knowing all too well the confusion and rage that would be roiling inside of him.

“I’m going to kill him.” The calm in Brynjolf’s voice was lethally sharp. Karliah nodded once, knowing that she no longer held the sole claim to Mercer’s life.

“We’ll go after him together. For their sake.” Karliah turned, walking toward the heart of Riften. It was freeing to finally be able to walk through the town she’d once called home without fearing for her life.

“Karliah.” Brynjolf called, stilling her. “How did you survive it? Losing him?”

She contemplated lying to him, giving him some false truth that might make him feel better. She thought about giving him something comforting, something optimistic. She instead chose the truth.

“I didn’t.” She struggled to speak past the lump in her throat, still staring ahead at the market. If she turned and looked at Brynjolf she would fall to pieces. “I rebuilt myself around the grief and the rage. And never for a second did I forget him.”

Karliah left on those words. She knew that Brynjolf’s pain had become a mirror for her own. Mercer had no idea that he’d sealed his own fate when he’d decided to kill the ones they loved.

#skyrim #brynjolf #karliah #canon typical violence #canonical character death #violence/blood #it's an angsty one fellas.#somethingscarlet13 #ngl i wrote this at 1:40 am last night and got teary eyed #angst #sad #submissions

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