Please read the author's note at the end of this chapter for more details on this story.
Water dripped down from the stone ceiling onto the stone floor in the cavern-like stone room. It was a repetitive noise, plop, plop, plop which was bound to drive any person near it stark, raving mad. And the smell! Gods, the smell would burn the nose hairs right off if one were to inhale too deeply. It was a pungent odor only to be found far below the city in tunnels where less fortunate shared living quarters with skeevers who fed on things so rotten one wouldn't be able to discern what it had originally been. It was no place for a person to be, let alone a woman. Or so polite society would have one believe.
Raven had learned long ago polite society would always look down their noses a her. If not for her upbringing, then for the way she carried herself, never leaving home without wearing armor and weapons strapped at the ready. Once, she had tried to please those of higher status, but she would not make the same mistake a second time.
Leaning against the cold stone wall, Raven propped up a foot against it and crossed her arms over her chest: the picture of at ease to anyone who did not know her. Those who did would see it differently.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, listening. All was still but the tap-tapping of the water and her finger matching its tempo against the soft leather of her armor covered bicep.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A far off skeever scurried along the dirt covered stone floor searching for rotting flesh to fulfill its appetite. But it was not the sound Raven was waiting for.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
There! Another soft tapping hidden just below the rhythm of the water. This too was against stone but it was not liquid. No, it was the tapping of footsteps, trained to be hidden behind other sounds.
"I'm over here," Raven said in a soft voice just above a whisper. "Glad you seem to have managed to find the time to speak with me." The words held a biting note, frustration not properly vented.
"What is it, lass?" Brynjolf stepped closer, just within Raven's vision of the poorly lit, abandoned room.
In the corner, a rotting table held a single candle lit atop it. Its small flame cast a glow just bright enough for the two to make out one another. Better to keep the light in the room as minimal as possible. If the smell was any indication of what someone would find, Raven certainly didn't need to see it. The room had been long forgotten from when the guilds' numbers had dwindled.
"I have important things to do," Brynjolf stated in that odd accent of his.
"Ah," Raven breathed with a shake of her head. She pushed off the wall and approached the red-headed man before her. "Yes, so I have heard."
The air between them sparked with words neither would voice out loud. Angry words which they stifled back, just below the surface. It had been that way between them for some time. Raven couldn't pinpoint the exact moment things had changed. Rather, it was like a storm building between them. What had once been a innocent, whiff of a cloud, had churned into a dark, thunder-rumbling threat.
"Out with it," Brynjolf grunted, looking away from the dark and knowing eyes piercing him. It was a gaze he had seen cut through others' guards without her even breaking a sweat. She was like a hound, sniffing out the betrayers and punishing them without mercy. Judge and executioner was the Guild Master. And now her focus was trained on him. She was suspicious of the man she once trusted at her back.
"The High King has requested my assistance with a troubling matter," Raven replied.
"Ah!" Brynjolf barked. "This certainly explains everything so clearly."
Raven repressed an eye roll, knowing he was only trying to rial her up, get under her skin. "This is no laughing matter, Brynjolf."
The man startled at the sound of his own name. It had been long since she'd addressed him as anything other than her "second" and even longer since they had talked to one another alone.
"The King is sending me away. I am sworn to obey his orders," Raven said.
Water dripped against the stone floor, the only sound in the room. Raven had sent Brynjolf word to meet her here. It was an old hideout they had used back when they were still close. They had meet down there to discuss the guild and its members. Mercer had been merely the head of the serpent. Raven and Brynjolf had been left to weed out Mercer's men and women. This room had been their headquarters.
"Ye want me to look after the Guild," Brynjolf said. It was not a question. This would not be the first time Raven had asked him to step in while she went off all across Skyrim doing Gods knew what. He did find it odd, though, to make such a request in such a secretive way.
"I want you to come with me."
Brynjolf's jaw dropped before he could regain his composure and quickly shut it once more.
Raven didn't give him the chance to respond. "There is a threat to Skyrim's northern border. The High King is sending me with a few of his guards to handle it."
"The northern border?" Brynjolf repeated. "But that would mean-"
"Pirates," Raven interjected. "Pirates have claimed the seas between Skyrim and Morrowind. All trade has been stopped."
"Gods," Brynjolf breathed. "First we have bloody dragons raining down fire and ice from the skies and now bloody pirates," he spat out the name like a bad curse.
Raven stilled at the mention of dragons. The Guild didn't know. Brynjolf didn't know. And yet she lived in constant fear of them discovering her secret. Of Skyrim discovering her secret. Rumors were already spreading across the lands like hot ashes in the wind. Soon the fire would ignite in her face and all would know.
But perhaps...
Perhaps if she went on this fool of a quest, she could burry the secret at the bottom of the sea. Time away could do some good, quiet the rumors of sightings and what not. Skyrim and her people were strong; perhaps the problem would be taken care of before her return.
"Why do ye wish me to join you, lass," Brynjolf interrupted her thoughts.
"Even now, there is no other I would trust at my back," Raven shrugged, playing the words off lightly. "Delvin and Vex can watch over matters here."
"Even now..." Brynjolf repeated the words so softly, Raven wasn't sure he had even spoken them.
"We leave at dawn," Raven said as if he hadn't. "If you are going to join me, meet me at the city's gate. We'll prepare our horses and then ride out."
Brynjolf looked down at the small woman before him. Even in the poor light, his eyes could make out her hair; it was a shade darker than the shadows surrounding them. Its blackness contrasted with the paleness of her white skin which glowed. She was a Nord but Brynjolf would bet his life she had some Dark Elf blood in her. Raven's dark brown eyes were almost black themselves and the corners were slightly pinched just like an Elf's. But the tint to her skin color was a flattering gray hue instead of the yellowy-green of the High Elf race. She was so small. Gods! How could a King ever entrust such a small creature to deal with a threat out on open seas? Her skills lied in stealth, not open battle. If Brynjolf let her leave, he'd certainly never see her return.
"What is there you aren't telling me?" Brynjolf asked. He had his suspicions. The lass had used her size to fool many a men before him and many after him. She played a tricky game with any who crossed her path. Brynjolf had never been an exception to that.
Raven stiffened. Her eyes narrowed up at the Nord. "Nothing which you need to know in order to complete the quest."
The threat was the pirates. The bandits who had taken to the seas in search of riches and infamy. It was certainly all her second in command needed to know. Small details the High King had given her, were a need to know basis only. And they were only theories and rumors anyway. It did not change the threat the pirates posed or the instructions Raven had been given.
"Ye've kept many secrets from me, lass," Brynjolf started in on her, taking small, silent steps to close the space between them. He was trying to intimidate her even though he knew it would not work. "Do not forget what consequences have come to past because of yer decision to do so."
Raven met the Nord's bright green glare with a raised chin and clenched jaw. Even in the dim light his eyes flashed at her with promised danger. She'd seen that same look directed at a Guild's target.
"I will not forget; I trust you will do the same."
Dawn came, bringing a chilled fog along with it. Birds called to one another but the sound travelled in odd waves, struggling to move through the thickness.
Shadowmere stood still, ready for the long journey ahead; his black coat shone in the soft light of the morning from his bath just the night before. Raven never took him anywhere without first giving him a proper preparation. Next to him was a dark brown horse with white patches freckling its coat. Both horses had packs tied down on their backs, just enough supplies to get them to Windhelm. Raven and Brynjolf were both experts on the bare essentials. There was no need for a pack horse.
Raven nodded to Brynjolf when he returned from the stables to pay the rent for the horse. Without an exchange of words, both Nords climbed atop their horses and set out for the journey ahead.
The first half of the day past in silence until Raven broke it to point out a spot by the river to let the horses rest while they ate their lunch. The fog had cleared but ominous clouds still threatened to open and dampen the travelers.
"This bread's dry," Brynjolf grunted through bites, crumbs of the bread flying forward and getting caught in his red whiskers.
Raven didn't bother to reply. The less conversation to pass between them, the better. After their encounter the night before, Raven hadn't even been sure the man would show up at the gate. He had, though he hadn't looked happy about it. With little sleep, Raven hadn't been in a mood to try and patch up any hurt feelings between them. The wounds ran too deep anyways. It would be like bandaging the surface of a wound and then discovering it ran bone deep.
Brynjolf washed down the dry bread with a swig of ale and then wiped his beard clean of any drops. "So what's the plan then, lass?" he asked, setting the now empty mug down at his feet. They'd both decided to take their meals standing to give their rumps a break from all the sitting and jostling in the saddles.
"We arrive at Windhelm and report to the High King," Raven shrugged before taking another bite of cheese. It was a pathetic excuse for a meal but it traveled better.
Brynjolf shook his head. "Nay. How is it ye plan to deal with the pirates?" The conversation had been cut short when Raven had simply walked away, leaving Brynjolf alone to ponder over the request. Before he wouldn't have thought twice about it. Perhaps it was the fool in him who hoped things between them could be repaired, but he had joined her without knowing much of what he was getting himself into.
Instead of answering straight away, Raven finished chewing her cheese and a bite of bread followed by a sip of her ale. She didn't want to give Brynjolf many details; she had been instructed not to by the High King himself. He had told her the orders were for her ears only. In fact, the High King probably hadn't even wanted her to bring one of her own men, which is precisely why she had done so. If she had bothered to ask permission, the answer would have been a flat no. But she needed someone she knew, someone she could trust. Even if that person was Brynjolf.
Raven chose her words carefully. "We must find the heart of the pirates and destroy it."
Brynjolf starred daggers at her until she finally met his gaze. "Ye cannot expect me to follow blindly, lass. I am not a dog on yer heels."
Raven wanted to tell him. Gods! She wanted to tell him everything. To confined in the one person she had learned to trust more than anyone else before him. But the High King had eyes and ears everywhere; he knew her secret. How could she risk people discovering it just to have a few moment's peace of mind with this?
"We once trusted one another, Brynjolf," Raven pleaded him with her eyes, refusing to voice the words she could not. "I am asking you to trust me once more, to follow me and know I will not lead you into anything you and I cannot handle."
The silence between them stretched on for too long; Raven was sure he would still argue. She could see the thoughts bounding back and forth in his eyes, questions and arguments he wanted to speak. Instead he said, "Aye, lass. I will follow ye then. But," he paused and raised a finger, pointing at her for emphasis, "when we return, we shall have a long chat, you and I."
Raven agreed. What else was she to say to that? If their roles had been reversed, Raven wouldn't have even bothered to show up that morning at the gate. Though, Brynjolf had always been a better man than she gave him credit for.
Much of the afternoon passed just the same as the first half of the day, in silence. Occasionally a word was passed between the two, but never more than that. They had gone so long avoiding one another, to be thrown back together, alone, was an uncomfortable situation for them both.
Only a few hours remained until nightfall when the skies decided to open up and release the rains it had been holding in all day. No matter how far they had traveled, the dark clouds had stand close above them, as if the storm were following them, a darkness they could not shake.
Thunder rumbled as lightening flashed, startling Brynjolf's horse.
"Bloodly mare," he grumbled before shushing her to ease.
Raven had just turned to him to see if he needed assistance, when a flash of movement caught the corner of her eye. Shadowmere drew up short and looked to the skies.
"Did you see-"
Raven's words were cut short by the thunderous roar from above, too loud and too close to be only thunder from the storm.
"By the Gods!" Brynjolf cursed, his head thrown back, eyes following the dark shadow circling above them.
No!
The plea was pointless. Raven knew this. But why now? Why couldn't the creature have chosen any other time or place to make its attack. She didn't have time for this but she couldn't run. Not now. What would Brynjolf think?
Damn that Nord.
If not for his presence, Raven could have run and continued avoiding this problem for some time more. She'd been avoiding the creatures, dodging their attacks for months, ever since she'd discovered who she was.
"Dragon!" Brynjolf shouted. His horse reared back on its hind legs as the Nord drew his sword, unleashing a battle cry.
AN: Wow! It has been a very long time since I've written "The Dragonborn and Her Thief." But, I've heard you guys and decided to write more. Yes, Raven and Brynjolf are from that one shot. The characters are the same (i.e. tempers/stubbornness/attraction to one another) but I'm not going to be confining myself to that one shot. This fic has taken a bit of a different turn. Sorry. But if you liked that smut, you can expect that same kind of smut in this fic later on.
I'm not sure if pirates have ever really been introduced into the Elder Scrolls world but I am really excited to do just that. This fic is greatly inspired by Skyrim and its lore but I may change some minor things so please don't freak out. If you're wanting to know timeline wise of where this story fits in with the game: Raven is the Dragonborn but hasn't answered the summons from High Hrothgar. The Stormcloaks won the war (Raven however was not involved). The Thieve's Guild has been restored with Raven as the Guild Master. The Dark Brotherhood was destroyed but Raven was able to retrieve Shadowmere. I think these are the only details you need to know for now. Everything else will be addressed along the way.
Disclaimer: Raven is not actually a dragonborn I've played the game through with (but I have played the game through about three and a half times). So I won't be following quests from the game very closely. She is actually heavily inspired by a character I had planned to write a book on but probably never will.
Second disclaimer: It's hard for me to self edit my own writing. So I apologize for minor grammar and spelling mistakes. My brain also has this annoying habit of sometimes switching words (i.e. like and that, good and could) so if you see something like that, PLEASE tell me.
I'll tried to update once a week. But I apologize if I'm too busy to maintain that goal.