She had had enough.

Had enough of being a puppet for Gods and Daedra.

Had enough of being Skyrim's first line of defense when it came to dragons.

Had enough of idiot Jarls having too much say over a person's private life.

And she had enough of wanting a man who wanted nothing to do with her.

Frankly, she could have dealt with the first three, as there was always a reprieve every so often from them. That last one though... Ayammeshki throws her quill down on the top of her desk, the thoughts racing around her mind distracting her from the open ledger. Yet another mistake made. A scowl crosses her face as each glaring error shines up at the Nord thief from the page. No wonder Mercer was a cranky asshole- this stress is maddening. It certainly doesn't help that I'm the only one doing this- what's the bloody point of having a Second if they don't pick up some of the burden? Long fingers pinch the bridge of her nose as the woman lets out an exasperated sigh, then glances up through long lashes as the door leading to the Ragged Flagon opens. It didn't take long to figure out who was coming into the Cistern.

"I'm tellin' ya Del, Ganna and Gemma are worth making a stop in Kynesgrove overnight on the way to deal with the mark up in Windhelm. There's nothin' better than two lasses keeping you warm during the winter."

Must he? Is it truly necessary for him to talk about every conquest he's ever had? Is he that proud to announce what sort of manwhore he is? He'll make all the time for everyone else, all I get is promises to talk later- talks that never happen!

"While I appreciate your enthusiasm, Bryn, I'm not as young as I used to be, and neither are you. One woman is enough for my nightly activities, thank you very much."

"Maybe if you didn't hold out for Vex, you'd be saying otherwise."

"Oh there's someone else that's caught my eye, but I know her heart definitely belongs to a different man. Unfortunately for her, the person doesn't give her the time of day... But surely there's someone in Skyrim that you'd change for to prove yourself worthy of them."

A scoff echoes throughout the cistern as the ginger Nord and bald Breton make their way further into the room. "Settle down? There's no woman in all of Tamriel that could make that happen."

"Liar." The Sneak Trainer would have said more had their Guild Master, the grip she had on her anger now clearly nonexistent, not slammed the ledger close with a bang. The sound reverberates around the cavernous room, but the flaxen haired female no longer cares who notices her displeasure anymore.

Every pair of eyes quickly fall on Aya, most waiting with baited breath to see what she would do. The Nord, though, only keeps her steely gaze on the one who just shoved his foot in his mouth in a rather splendid fashion. Anyone who knew the reserved woman best could see the emotions swirling in her eyes- the anger and pain, with just a hint of resignation and betrayal. Not a word leaves her mouth though; instead she just turns and climbs up the ladder and out into the shadows that blanketed Riften at night. The last thing the thief heard before the trap door shut behind her was something hitting skin followed by "You fucking idiot!"


The minute Delvin heard the ledger slam, he braced himself against the potential fury of the Guild Master. How did he not see her standing there? Is he that fucking dense? But the anger he was expecting never came, only hints of it showing in the storms that shone out from her face. Amber orbs watch as Aya heads up the ladder for the secret entrance, then the man snaps out of his stupor, smacking the redhead on the back of the head rather hard. "You fucking idiot!" The Breton cuts off his colleague with a swipe of his hand. "No. You shut up and listen. I'm done of just standing idly by while you make an ass of yourself. Brynjolf, we've known each other for a very long time, but I swear, I have never seen you do anything as callous like this though."

The Second rubs at the base of his skull, trying to dull the pain he was feeling before he could trust himself to speak. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Del."

"Another lie. Don't try to pull one over on me- I'm not some new recruit that will believe everything that comes out of that mouth of yours. Is your brain still set to stupid from when Mercer was the Guild Master? You just let the best thing that not only happened to the Guild but to you walk...well, storm out. I'm just honestly surprised it took her this long to finally lose her patience with you."

The ginger doesn't say anything in his defense for a good ten minutes, his gaze just staring at the closed ledger on the table. Shoulders slump forward as the ramifications of what just happened hit him hard. "What have I done? But she deserves better than someone like me."

"You've done gone and fucked up, that's what you've done Lad. And yes, had Aya been anyone else, most certainly she would have deserved better. But she's a thief with ties to the Dark Brotherhood and our Guild Master. You seriously think there's anyone better for her out there than another thief?" Delvin pinches the bridge of his nose, his gaze shifting to the statue of Nocturnal as if asking for guidance. "Perhaps I should have tried harder convincing her to let you go. At least I would never have hurt her as you have over the many months."

Emerald eyes blink slowly, the man's brain slowly processing what was just said. "Wait... the Lass that you were talking about... The one who's heart is set on someone who doesn't notice... is the Guild Master?"

"Is it so surprising, Bryn? Someone that wants something you've been secretly coveting?"

"Not just that Del," his superior goes, fingers twisting one of the buckles on his armor. "The fact I never noticed your interest in the Lass."

Mallory snorts softly, his amusement apparent. "I keep on after Vex because everyone expects me to. Do you think I would have survived being a thief as long as I have if I was obvious? Besides, I'm not the only one who could have given her the world on a silver plate if she desired it."

"Who?" Auburn brows furrow in thought, then an idea "Wait...Ulfric welcomed her into his rebellion army with open arms. No one would have been able to stop him if he had the bloody Dragonborn as his Queen."

"From what I could gather from my sources, had his hands not been tied by the Moot, the Jarl turned High King could have certainly asked for her hand. Though would it have been out of love for her or love for power, I don't know, but they did say the pair were rather compatible. Unfortunately for the Bear of Markarth, his bride was chosen for him and the Stormcloak had to accept it if he wanted to keep his newly acquired throne."

"How did the Lass take that bit of news?"

The trainer's response starts with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I don't think she cares one way or the other. Aya still speaks well of the High King, still performs her job as his Thane, runs jobs in Eastmarch without any complaints and she's not one to sugarcoat how she feels on anything. It's all moot anyway- the Boss would rather be alone than tie herself anyone that's not you. It's a massive pile of horker shit you jumped in, brother, and it made quite a mess. Now, how are you going to fix it?"


A/N Well, here's the start of the prequel to my first story I posted on here, Challenge Accepted. I had been asked awhile ago to come up with something to explain what exactly happened to cause said events in Accepted to happen. At the time, I hadn't really thought of anything, but slowly little bits and pieces started to form. Unfortunately for me, this means the original version of Challenge Accepted will have to get edited (originally Delvin was adamant on wooing Vex and nothing would change his mind, now it's not the case), but I will tend to that after Issued gets finished, or if I can figure out what else will need to change.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any comments or questions, and I'll get back to them as soon as possible!