Author's note: This story has gone a long way since I wrote the first chapter. It's not the best, even I have realized over the time I've been working on it. I put in too many storylines. My dialogues are crappy. It's inconsistent and I totally destroyed poor Brynjolf's character. The fact that I'm not an English native speaker showed as well. I don't like the way it's written. I like the story and my ideas, but I can imagine it's very hard to read. Even so, you are still welcome to read it and get back at me for everything I screwed up. Also for the oversensitive comments that I added at the end of each chapter. They are not relevant anymore.
And now that you've been warned... on to the first chapter!
This story takes place after the main quests of Skyrim (including the DLCs) and continues as a spin-off.
Disclaimer: Skyrim and Elder Scrolls are the property of Bethesda Game Studios. I only own the original characters and a few made-up places in the story.
Chapter 1: The Feeling of Emptiness
Void. Emptiness. Nothingness. The feeling of being lost and not knowing where to head next. That was the feeling Aislinn had after all had been said and done. Suddenly, her life had no direction, no purpose. Alduin the World-Eater was gone. Miraak was gone. It had been a long time since Hermaeus Mora had last spoken to her. Everything was calm, quiet. Oh yes, people always had their little worries and affairs, they always troubled Aislinn with petty requests such as bringing some worthless junk all across Skyrim to a shrine… for higher purposes. Yeah, higher purposes my tail. The Stormcloaks and Imperials were always quarrelling, killing each other in the process, carelessly fighting, blaming the other party while not realizing they had been doing the exact same thing, but everything the "normal" people cared about were their ridiculous trinkets.
So why not actually rid them of some? Yes, the only jobs that Aislinn found calming and fulfilling were the ones for the Thieves Guild or the Dark Brotherhood. She did not feel like a criminal. Her conscience was constantly haunting her, preventing her from killing or robbing people she found innocent, pure even. Even so, the murder of the Emperor left a deep wound on her soul. Doubts had filled her head the moment she had met him. He had not been the kind of person she would have wanted to kill. Seeing him accept his fate while facing her, that resigned look in his face, his almost comforting expression as he calmly encouraged her to proceed with her business, she had felt sorry for him, sympathetic even. But the contract had to be fulfilled and both parties knew it. She'd chosen to respect his final wish and punish the one who'd ordered the Emperor killed. Despite that, she could still hear a voice deep inside her heart telling her she might have gone against her destiny. Maybe she'd cursed this world instead of saving it. What does the death of Alduin matter if people lose their purpose and the one real and solid existence they could look up to?
In this sense, Aislinn was no exception. She had lost her purpose, along it went her will to live a fulfilling life and find her own destiny. It seemed to have ended with the last bigger task she'd completed. As controversial as it was, she only found peace in the shady or not-so-legal tasks that gave her at least a portion of the excitement she'd been missing ever since she had dealt with Miraak. Oh, the thrill of hiding in shadows, the challenges that stealing in a crowded area presented, the sweet urgency to think hard only to get out of the precarious situation. It all faded compared to the glory of killing a dragon and devouring his soul, the surreal sensation of raw power rising in golden sparks and encircling her body before entering it with an impact she would never get used to, but she got at least something out of it.
Just how did it all begin, exactly? With her being the Dragonborn, yes. Even now there was a part of her that refused to believe it was the reality. The Dragonborn? An existence long foretold by the prophets, meant for saving the world, defeating the great black dragon, Alduin, the World-Eater? Someone who could compare to Talos himself? And if saving the world meant getting it rid of Alduin's existence, then why was it over in a mere blink of an eye? The time she had spent looking for a solution seemed long and exhausting while being at it, going from one dungeon to another, uncovering endless secrets and making bargains she had not even been sure to be able to honor, but when it was over? Then what? Nothing. There was nothing left to be done and it didn't even take half a year. What are a few months compared to a lifetime? Where is she supposed to go now?
She was sitting on a grey rock looming above the vast land below, staring at the golden-grey cloudy sky trying to remember who she had been before being captured along with the Stormcloaks, as she had tried many times before. Still nothing. She had no place in this world. No past, no future. The day was coming to an end and amber light shone dimly through the rippled clouds, casting itself upon the lazily dangling branches of birch and oak trees behind her. The land was still and quiet as she'd just got rid of the last of the lousy bandits camping next to the road from Riften to Ivarstead. She ran her hand through her unusually short chestnut-colored hair carelessly sliding the loose strands out of her face. It was getting dark and the breeze suddenly started whispering a silent song through the branches of the oak trees. Maybe the bards could sing a song like that, she thought to herself. It would be a nice change compared to the boring odes for Tamriel heroes they usually sing. She could propose it at the college. Or maybe not. They might find that she's actually tone-deaf.
Tired of looking at the skies and thinking of meaningless things, Aislinn jumped on her feet, left the rock she had been sitting on behind and called Shadowmere. The loyal black horse ran happily to her, his ethereal red eyes watching her attentively. Aislinn directed Shadowmere for Riften while examining the scenery around. She spotted several necromancers and a bear along the way but wasn't in a mood for fighting. As she reached Riften stables, she noticed a sloppy thief being chased by a local attendant. Leaving Shadowmere behind, she sneaked past the stables and waited in shade between the simple wooden dwelling and the rather cramped horse stall until the thief reached her. The moment he ran into her, she stood up, grabbed the collar of his beige belted Guild uniform and held him in the place. His eyes widened as he recognized her.
"Boss, what in Oblivion are you doing?" he whispered, shock reflecting in his face.
"That should be my line," she replied mercilessly, her eyes stunning her in place. "It's the end of you if you get caught. The guild doesn't need people like you and you know it."
He stared at her with his eyes full of despair as the guards dragged him to the city gates. Her gaze was petrifying but she did not allow herself to be affected. She did not like the guy. He was the greedy type, someone who only thinks of his own pocket, blind and ignorant. He didn't quite fit into the guild whose orthodox members tended to primarily seek the excitement of breaking the law and reminding people that there were no certainties in this world. Honorable thieves. As absurd as it sounded, she had learned to think of them that way. It was good to have them on her side. They were useful allies… and some of them even good friends. She kept thinking about Brynjolf. The guy was cool. She liked how he always addressed her as a "lass", even by the time she'd become the boss. She liked his deep rough voice. She'd seen him fight and deal with various problems before and knew far too well that he wasn't just a simple thief. He was a mystery to her, always attending to some super-secret business, hiding his face under his hood, refusing to talk. And boy, she loved mysteries.
Oh yes, there were also Delvin Mallory and Tonilia. But these two… it took a simple counting of two and two together to figure that they're just good with people. They have contacts and they know how to use them. Impressive but not mysterious. Brynjolf was a mystery and that was intriguing.
She headed for the Ratway. The city had always seemed unaffected by the recent turn of events including the change of the jarl. It was different this time. Aislinn smelled a change in the air. Walking across the eastern bridge she noticed two Thalmor representatives in their deep blue hoods talking to the city guards. That certainly wasn't good news. The Thalmor used to more or less ignore Riften and the citizens surely weren't complaining about this. This time the faces on both sides seemed serious. Too serious. It just wasn't right.
Proceeding through the cemetery, Aislinn pushed the button to open the sarcophagus presenting the secret entrance to the Ragged Flagon. A few faces lifted as she climbed down the ladder beneath it and entered a dimly lit round cave-like room with a pool in its center, two concave bridges running across it and meeting at the centre in a round platform. She inspected the place carefully before sliding her hand under her dark grey cloak. A beautiful golden jar with sapphire decorations appeared in her hand as she pulled it out again.
"What's that?" Delvin Mallory's voice echoed through the room and she could see a bald Breton man of a smaller posture approach her, his expression half surprised, half amused. "Wasn't Ned supposed to deliver this? You know Ned, right? The newbie."
"He was caught," Aislinn replied dryly. Not that she needed to add anything else for the quick-witted thief to know exactly what had happened out there.
"But the prize was saved," responded Delvin with an imperceptible smile. "You just never fail, boss, even when it comes to backup plans."
"Give me some challenge," she snorted.
"Then find one," a crispy voice joined the conversation. Aislinn did not have to turn her head to figure that it's the beautiful and sharp-tongued Vex speaking to her, her straight blonde hair put behind her ears, making her long pale face seem even rougher than usual. "You're pretty good at that, right?"
"Ran out of them," said Aislinn with a slight sigh. "Unless you want me to steal directly from some jarl's pocket. I doubt they're carrying any valuable things around though. And the Emperor's gone, you know."
"Actually, there is a challenge," a rough voice added. A handsome red-haired Nord was walking toward their group, his light brown hood deep in his face. Aislinn shivered as she saw Brynjolf approaching. Their eyes met and she instantly felt the urge to turn away as he set his gaze upon her, his turquoise irises shimmering from under the hood. Her chain of thought was interrupted, however, when she noticed movement behind one of the chests which lay along the walls.
"We have a visitor," stated and walked past the chest, pulling a young boy from behind it. He could be about fourteen years old, his body seemingly small and fragile, dark brown hair cut short to reveal his round and seemingly innocent face. His eyes widened when he saw Aislinn.
"You!" he shouted, his voice trembling with shock and disbelief. "You… but it can't be. You're not a thief!"
"Oh? How's that so?" Aislinn sounded entertained. She loved kids with everything that came with it. Including their naiveté.
"Because… you help people. You're always there for them. Everyone's always talking about you! You can't…"
Aislinn put her hands on his shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. He tried to avert his gaze but found himself unable to move.
"Look," she said softly while silently chewing on the fact she had just found a fourteen years old boy in one of the most protected places in Skyrim. "We do help people, all right? Our job comes with a risk and we get paid for it. The ones who pay us are normal people like you – people who need a favor and cannot do it themselves. They ask us, we do what is needed and they pay us. Nothing wrong with that. We're not mere burglars pursuing their own selfish ambitions or doing things out of spite. Of course there might come a time when we just kind of… take our share as well. But overall we just do business."
"But you… steal from people! You take their things!" He sounded desperate, his voice now a few tones higher. Aislinn didn't look bothered by his accusation.
"Have you actually seen anyone suffer because of us?" she asked, her voice still soft and compassionate.
There was a moment of silence. Then he shook his head.
"Of course not. Because we don't hurt people. You know," her voice hardened a little, "I think you refuse to see things as they are. You're Samuel, right? The one from the orphanage."
"You remember?" he replied, a little bit of pride in his voice.
"There's not too many things I do not remember," she smiled. "And you remember me. Do you know when we first met?" She was studying him, examining his reactions and readiness. She knew he would try to avoid the answer. But this boy had the guts to show himself here, whatever his reasons might have been. He deserved to see the truth.
"When you came and took Runa with you?" The answer didn't sound confident.
"Think again," she ordered him firmly.
Samuel didn't look pleased. A certain memory flashed through his mind. A memory he had been trying to deny for some time now, one he had cast away in hope of never recalling it again for it was dark and it questioned his honor and conscience.
"That night…" his voice cracked. "That night when… when Grelod died."
"Well, she didn't just die, did she?" Aislinn's voice was now hard and cold as steel. "I believe you were overjoyed when she was assassinated. So many problems solved with just one murder. One would say a murder is far more serious a sin than a simple theft. But you were all happy. There was no-one shedding tears over her death, just the city guards pitying the poor children who'd lost their beloved nurse, out of pure obligation." Aislinn looked around to make sure Ravyn wasn't listening to her. Everyone else pretty much knew about her connection to the Dark Brotherhood. It was funny to watch Ravyn talking to people about how he's scared of the Brotherhood though and it would be a shame to ruin the fun this way. Then she continued. "The Guild and the Dark Brotherhood are not as different as you might think. We respond to the people."
Surprisingly, the boy didn't seem too shocked, despite his body trembling, his eyes avoiding contact.
"Do you want to try it?" Aislinn asked silently, lifting his chin slightly to make him look at her.
"What?! Wait, boss, you want to make this boy a thief? This little boy? He'll mess it up before you can pick a lock with the Skeleton Key," Delvin protested.
"No, he won't," Aislinn smiled again, her golden eyes the epitome of innocence, now outdoing even the little boy before her. "I won't let him. And besides, it's because he's a little boy that he'll be able to do it. Some things are just easier for children. Maybe he doesn't have experience but he can compensate for it with his innocent look and small body." A sly grin showed on her face when she made her point.
The present Guild members looked doubtful but no-one dared oppose their boss. Their gazes turned to Samuel who, unconsciously, took a step back and bumped into the cold stone wall behind him. He knew he had no choice anymore. Either he could serve the Guild, or he would be silenced. Still, a part of him suddenly felt energized and excited. He wanted to try and take the risk. He wanted to prove his worth, something he could never achieve in the orphanage where everyone just had to be annoyingly equal. He wanted to feel special, even if it meant getting his hands dirty. And so, with his expression slowly gaining determination, he nodded.
Deep inside her mind, Aislinn laughed. It's not killing dragons or dealing with Daedric Princes and it's definitely not saving the world, but it sure is going to be fun. This boy knows nothing of the world he lives in but she can open his eyes. Just like she had to open hers some time ago to see the world balancing on the scales of survival of the fittest weighed by wits and power. Excitement is coming.