I sat in the Ragged Flagon and I listened. The jug of mead in my hand was really just for show, I had no intentions of drinking it. Sometimes, when things were getting too hectic, or it just felt like I needed a break, I would sit, alone, and take it all in. There was rarely a quiet moment so it wasn't dull. It was also good to be aware of what the others were up to.
Dirge approached Tonilia and asked her politely to stop cheating on Vekel. From what I had known their relationship hadn't been set in stone and was loose. Tonilia denied the claims and Dirge retaliated that everyone in the Guild knew about her and Brynjolf, which wasn't true. I had no idea or suspicions on anything between those two, I rarely saw them interact. Grumbling some things to himself, our gruff bodyguard returned to his post by the ramp leading to the bar.
Delvin and Vex were having a serious discussion. It was almost hard to catch what they were saying because they were trying to be discreet. I heard nonetheless, though, eavesdropping was a skill a thief tended to pick up whether or not they were aware of it. Apparently Vipir had mucked up a job and they were trying to work on paying off the guards. Also, there was the ever prevalent topic of how badly the Guild was currently doing. I never liked hearing anyone talk about that. It made me feel suddenly guilty, though I wasn't sure why. It was an unfortunate run of bad luck, as all. Delvin was convinced it was a curse, but everyone else believed him to be some crazy old-timer. I wasn't sure what to think.
Diverting my attention, I heard Vekel ask Brynjolf some questions about the Guild's well-being. It made my head throb. Seems like it was the talk of the Flagon and I really wished that wasn't the case. Nobody had noticed me, sitting amongst the abundant shadows, not making eye contact and just listening there. What I was hearing wasn't calming or informative, in my opinion, and I started to consider this a waste of time.
Standing from my chair, leaving my tankard still untouched, I went into the Cistern. Briefly I considered training but decided against it when I remembered the entire incident with Shadr's shipment. Nobody tried to speak to me as I walked to the ladder, entering Riften. I hadn't wanted to talk to anyone. For some reason lately my mood had been in a much worse state than it had been for months. Subconsciously I knew why that was. I just didn't want to let myself actually think about it. That didn't prevent me from dreaming about it though. Every single night.
As per usual, I got a few looks from people as I walked through town. Anyone in the Guild tended to get looks. We didn't try to hide our affiliation and we wore our same armor, which was identifiable on sight. The guards didn't try to arrest us or anything like that but they knew who we were. Wanting to avoid too much staring, I steered completely clear of the marketplace. Remembering vaguely that I had told Shadr to meet me near the entrance by the stables, I headed that way. He was sitting on the bridge leading to the back entrance of the Bee and Barb. He spotted me. I could basically see him tense up from the fair distance I was.
It had all been a set up. I had done jobs like this a dozen times before, and they always went without a hitch. Sometimes I would give a share to the Guild, other times I wouldn't, just in case there was a particular dagger that caught my eye over at Balimund's, or I wanted to treat myself to a few rounds of Black-Briar mead. This time I didn't plan on distributing a cut to them, even though I knew we needed it. On occasion that might make me feel guilty. But I would remind myself that a few hundred gold wouldn't be nearly enough to get us out of the rut we had been in for what seemed like decades now.
I reminded him about his debt, even though I could clearly tell from his disposition that he hadn't forgotten. His eyes sported considerable bags and he looked very drained. It seemed like he had lost sleep. At least some people were still afraid of the Guild. News of our gradual weakening had spread around and we were a much less respected name than before. He tried desperately to explain, to justify, to make excuses or alternate offers, but as per usual I was having none of it. I cut him off, simply advising that next time he not make his plans so public. My warning hadn't been the most subtle and he caught it. At a volume I would have liked to be lower he vocalized his realization at my interference and asked me vehemently for my reasoning, which I didn't provide. Simply stating again that I wanted him to pay up, I left him sitting on that bridge completely at a loss before walking away - into the Bee and Barb.
When I wasn't in the Flagon or the Cistern and I wanted to get away for a while, the Bee and Barb was my destination. It was always open, it always served drinks, the people there never tried to talk to me on account of the look I kept constantly on my face to ward them from doing so, and it always proved to be entertaining to listen in on the typical tavern chatter. I walked to a wall near the door and casually leaned against it, crossing my arms.
Vulwulf had been inhabiting this place much more frequently than he used to, and it was rarely in a sober state. That was odd to me. He was a noble man who didn't used to like behaving in such a manner or partaking in drunken revelry. Yet here he was, slurring his words and hiccuping like an oaf. I eyed him with an intensity that would've made anyone else notice the gaze, but he was too inebriated to. His cheeks were flushed as he called over Talen to ask for another round. The lizard tried to firmly dissuade Vulwulf, who only got very hostile at the mere suggestion of not drinking. I wondered what was wrong. Being in the Guild, it's natural to become a bit of a people person. I kept tabs especially on everyone in Riften. Vulwulf's daughter, Lilija, had gone off to war against the Empire. Would I have been right to suspect she had been killed? Now that the thought crossed my mind, the patriarch Snow-Shod had a dense air about him that suggested mourning.
Maramal then walked in, a look on his face that made me groan inwardly. He was going to preach to us about how much we were defiling Mara's wishes or something of that sort, he occasionally did that when in the proper mood, though he was promptly asked to leave. As I predicted, he started rambling on about how the Dragons reappearing was a punishment from Mara. After that I just started tuning him out, though he kept on talking. Eventually Talen-Jei ushered him out politely and the priest left, still mumbling things to himself. As he opened the door, exiting, someone else walked in. I wouldn't have noticed had I not heard him say, "Pardon me, milady," before the door shut. It could've been a variety of people; Grelka, a beggar, maybe even Haelga coming in to flirt with someone. But for some reason I had a feeling this was nobody that I knew.
I looked up, my gaze previously having been fixated on the floorboards, and I spotted her. She was clearly a Breton - easy to determine her race on account of her stature and light skin tone. Also she was a mage, like many Bretons tended to be. At least that was what I gathered, based on the hood she was wearing and the circlet beneath it that had an aura of red surrounding the silver. Enchanted. Besides that, however, she resembled a lightly-clad warrior, donned in simple studded armor and some leather boots from what I could see, though all of this was enchanted as well. I couldn't spot any weapons on her, which also led me to believe she relied solely spellcasting for combat. That sellsword mage, Marcurio, eyed her as she walked in. I could somehow tell from his expression that my suspicions were confirmed and she was a magic-user. He got a look on his face like he felt some sort of instant connection to her because of their matched magical abilities. I wasn't sure how that stuff worked. I could've been wrong. But I doubted it.
Keeping track of her in my peripheral vision, not wanting to seem strange by examining her for too long, I watched as she walked to the counter and sat on one of the stools. She struck conversation with Keerava, and the standoffish Argonian seemed to be genuinely interested in talking with the Breton, which was a rare occurrence. The only other person I had seen Keerava willingly interact with for more than two minutes was Talen-Jei, and he was courting her. This woman was a stranger. At least I assumed so. Unfortunately, the tavern was just loud enough so that I couldn't quite make out what the two were talking about, and I wanted to know more than anything for some reason.
Doing my best to put it out of my mind, I leaned against a nearby wall and crossed my arms. I had been very stressed for the past few weeks, what with the Guild's reputation decaying and our luck getting worse with each failed job, there were a lot of responsibilities on all of us in an attempt to get our struggling band back on its feet. Nothing seemed to work, though. I felt like even if we randomly got a million septims, we would somehow manage to screw everything up and not put it to effective use.
One thought kept coming back every now and again; things had been better when Gallus was the Guildmaster and not Mercer. He had been more patient and less brisk with everything and everyone. When he was in charge the Guild felt like more of a family, in my opinion. I was really new when he and Karliah were still around, but that time had been the best experience during my time as a thief. I had little to no qualms with anyone in particular in our outfit, but Mercer had always gotten a bit on my nerves because of how easily irritable he was. I remembered he had always been like that, even when things were good and he had no reason to be so hostile. Then Karliah killed Gallus, and his mood worsened. I remembered how bleak the Flagon and the Cistern were after Mercer returned with that news. Nobody wanted to believe it, but we had to pick a new Guildmaster if that was indeed the truth. Mercer was the only valid candidate, being the senior member and one of Gallus's closer friends. Karliah would've been the original choice, had she not killed Gallus.
"Are you Sapphire?" A voice spoke in front of me and I was startled, jolted from my train of thought. Blinking a few times and returning fully to reality, I looked up to see the Breton girl standing there, an eyebrow cocked. Her voice enthralled me. I wasn't sure why.
"Who's asking?" I was starting to glare, having a feeling that this woman's intentions weren't the best. With all of my various dealing I certainly must've had a good few enemies I wasn't even aware of. Part of me almost rested a hand on the dagger at my waist, but I waited.
"Not important, I wanted to talk to you about Shadr's debt." Thankfully, she sounded far from threatening. If anything I would've compared her tone to that of a whimsical child without a care in the world, though something about her face didn't mirror that tone. There was a scar on her cheek. It was oddly shaped and I couldn't quite determine what the source might've been. Not wanting her to notice my drifting eyes, I locked our gaze again. Her irises were purple, amazingly enough.
Clearly, Shadr had spotted this woman on her way into Riften and sulked rather openly. She reeked of purity and seemed a bit like a goody-two-shoes, so she must've spotted his emotional distress, questioned it, and was promptly fed with a load of rubbish from that desperate stable-hand.
I sighed, feeling very tired, not expecting or wanting to have this conversation, "Look, it's simple. I lent Shadr money to order some things he wanted, and the shipment got robbed before it got here. Now he's refusing to pay up."
Her eyes narrowed, and she appeared comically sleuth-like for a good thirty seconds or so before responding with a rather knowing tone, "Come on, lets not do this. We both know this is a set-up." Her hands went to her hips. She looked so young but most Bretons' age based on appearance was deceiving.
Was all this fuss worth it? Shadr just owed me two hundred gold, I could get that from one good job if I really needed it, and I didn't. It wasn't like I had pressing expenses to pay. Shadr was poor and didn't exactly have the most glamorous job in Riften. Though I wasn't getting a soft spot or anything like that for targets, the way that this Breton was looking at me made me feel... judged. It's hard to explain but I didn't want her to view me as some bully that swindled people out of their money. And I rarely ever cared about other peoples' opinions, this was odd. Either way, I decided to let this go. Shadr had gotten lucky. If he had complained to literally anyone else about this, and they had confronted me, it would've taken a lot more than a few sentences to get me to forget about the situation.
"Alright, alright. Tell Shadr he doesn't owe me anything." My voice wasn't as cold as it had been originally and my expression softened without me realizing it.
She stood still for a few more moments, lips crooked into a strange sort of pout, purple irises still narrowed at me, before she gave me a dazzling smile with amazingly white teeth, waved at me so ridiculously it almost made me laugh aloud, and left without another word. I maintained my position against the wall, staring at the door she had gone through.
For some reason I couldn't stop smirking.