FULL SUMMARY:
Khajiit thief, and Guild Master, Volume, starts having some problems. First, Mercer Fray begins to haunt her in her sleep. Then, her relationship with her second in command, Brynjolf, becomes horribly confusing on both ends. Next thing she knows, Volume is caught between the life she made in the Guild, her past and current dealings with Daedric Princes, and her protecting her most heavily guarded secret: being the named Dovahkiin.
Chapter 1
This place was cold. Volume's short, thin fur prickled as she glanced at her surroundings. She was in an old, stone hall, not unlike the Hall of Stories that she had found months earlier in Bleak Falls Barrow. Volume was crouched near the far end of the hall, a large Nord puzzle door stood in front of her blocking her entry to the main sanctum. Someone stood next to her, barely noticeable if not for the air of anger that they emitted. Turning to see who was with her, Volume's heart threatened to stop.
"Mercer…" the word came out as a barely audible whisper. This was wrong. Mercer Frey was dead. Killed two months ago in the depths of Ikrinhand, his blood on the blade of Gallus, the Guild Master before him. His body lost in the chamber that had held the statute of Falmer, drowned and eyeless.
Mercer stood briskly, swearing under his breath as he examined the puzzle door. "Ancient Nordic puzzle door," He said to Volume after a moment, "Normally they're impossible to open without the matching claw… But I have a trick of my own…" He fiddled with the mechanism on the door before stepping back as it slid down into the stone floor.
"The Skeleton Key of Nocturnal." she said, fear and realization racked her thin frame.
"What did you just say?" Mercer Frey turned toward the young Khajiit woman, a new rage spread across his face.
"The Skeleton Key." Volume said again, her voice shaking, "That's how you opened the door. And how you stole from the Guild's vault. You stole the Key, murdered Gallus, framed the whole thing on Karlihia. Then you stole the Eyes of the Falmer just before I killed you."
He smiled at Volume. It was a sickly sort of smile, like the one that she would often have received from city guards when she was a small child and caught with her hand in someone's pocket. The type of smile that would make you feel as though you had a void in your stomach.
"Very good, Whelp." he spat, his smile growing wider still, "Than you know what happens next." He drew his sword and dagger.
Next thing Volume knew, she was awake.
"Dragons? You don't actually believe that you saw one, do you, Rune?" Brynjolf questioned.
"I know what I saw, and what I saw was a Dragon, plain as day." stated the younger thief named Rune. He had come back to the Ragged Flagon a little earlier that morning going on about the Dragon that he had scene returning from his last job.
"I'm telling ya, Bryn," he continued, "It was a Dragon I saw. Not some big bird or anything like that."
Brynjolf rubbed the back of his neck. It was still too early in the day to be dealing with something like this. Fortunately, Volume walked into the makeshift tavern, providing the Nord with an acceptable excuse.
"Pardon me, Rune." he said, brushing past him, "We'll discuss this later."
The young Khajiit woman looked worse for wear when Brynjolf approached her at her small table on the platform above the water of the ratways. She was only half awake by his guess. Her pointed ears were lowered from their normal perked upright position.
"You alright, Lass?" He asked hesitantly.
"Hm- Oh, Brynjolf! G-good morning…" she snapped to attention as she noticed him. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks for asking." her tone was softer than expected.
Brynjolf's brow furrowed at this response. Volume was often known by the Guild members for her plucky personality and seemingly limitless energy. This was far from the Volume that Brynjolf knew and- No. What was he thinking? Relationships like that between members of the Thieves Guild, and more importantly, the Nightingales, were looked down upon with good reason.
"Rough night then?" he said, breaking the momentary silence.
"You could say that." she sighed. Ever since Volume had been made Guild Master, she and Brynjolf had become distant. He wasn't sure why, but Brynjolf didn't want to lose the closeness that the two had had when he first recruited Volume all those months ago.
Volume stood to leave, only to be stopped by Brynjolf putting an arm in front her.
"Where do you think you're off to in such a hurry, Lass?" he asked, his tone was gentle.
"Am I not allowed to go where I want on my own? Honestly, Bryn, let me through." she slipped around him, flicking her tail as she did so.
He lowered his arm before speaking, "I'm just worried about ya, Lass. You seem barely awake as is."
"So?" she turned to face the red haired Nord. She wasn't sure what made her lash out at him. Something told her that the nightmare was getting at her. Volume bit her tongue discreetly, trying to hide her embarrassment. Brynjolf looked rather taken aback by her harsh tone.
"Sorry…" she sighed, glancing at the wood floor.
Brynjolf was silent for a moment before speaking, "It's not like you to back down from an argument that fast. Last time you acted anything like this it was back when we were dealing with Mercer." She could tell without even looking up that he wore an expression of sincere concern for her.
"In a sense, that is the case…" Volume said under her breath, barely audible to even herself.
"An interesting tool, Nocturnal…"commented the large Daedric Prince as he watched the Khajiit woman (girl really, she was exceptionally young for bearing such power, he thought to himself) walk away from the red haired Nordic thief in the shadow sphere. Across from him, another Daedra stood, viewing the scene.
"Well, she is my favorite Nightingale for a reason." said Nocturnal curtly, "Honestly though, why do you insist on tormenting her? She's not yours to play with, Molag-Bal."
The Daedric Prince of Domination grinned at the lady Daedra, "In ways, she is."
"No, she's not. That would be like Hircine or Clavicus claiming her just because she completed a set task for them." she snapped.
"She did kill for them, and myself, might I add." he objected.
The Daedric Prince of Thieves glared at him before speaking, "She killed, not for them, but because she had no choice. The girl's not an idiot."
"But of course, Lady Nocturnal." said Molag-Bal, "I only ask that you allow for me to play with the poor thing for a bit longer. I wish to test her limits."
"I am well aware of how far her limits extend. That was proven when she passed through the Pilgrim's Path. I won't allow this." She growled, her patience growing thin.
Molag-Bal thought for a moment before speaking, "How about a bet?"
"A bet?" she raised a brow in question.
"Yes, a wager, if you will." he grinned at her reaction.
"And just what do you have in mind?"
His grin grew wider as he spoke, "If I am able to turn your precious Nightingale to swear her allegiance to me in fifty days time, then I win her soul for eternity. If not-"
"You are willing to admit that possibility? This is most unlike you…" Nocturnal had been intrigued by this new idea. While she wasn't fond of the named outcome for if she lost, she was interested it what might occur.
"When making any wager, one must take all things into consideration, no?"
"Fair enough, continue."
Molag-Bal chuckled to himself, "If you were to win, then you shall be able to keep her in both life and death."
The lady Daedra gave a bitter look upon hearing this possible reward.
"Is something wrong, Lady Nocturnal?" he asked, worried that he might lose his chance.
"Yes." she stated bluntly, "I would have the same result if I didn't take you up on this wager."
"So what, might I ask, would you also have as your prize?"
"I get a request of you alongside the first offer." she said.
"If you accept the bet, I will complete anything you ask of me, proven that you win." he gave shallow bow as he spoke.
"And you will have to accomplish a second task in order to win." added Nocturnal.
"WHAT!?"
"You heard right, Molag-Bal. The stakes are rather high on my part, and much lower on your own. So if I were to lose to you then I would need something to make me feel better about it. We don't need a war among the Daedra, do we?" she said, voice even but smiling.
"Of course not." the male Daedra struggled not to lose his temper with Nocturnal. "What else would you have me accomplish in this gambit?"
It was Nocturnal's turn to smile at this new attitude.
A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, and if you didn't, please do. My name's Nightshade the13th, and a huge thanks to Sylvia Hunter Of Artemis for publishing this for me. Disclaimer: the only things in this fanfiction that belong to me would be Volume and the story itself. Everything else belongs to Bestada Studios.
Word of warning: this first chapter took a good bit longer than I wanted to write, but I will try to update regularly (once a week, hopefully).
Thanks again!
