AN. Okay, because I ran out of room in the summary box (because I suck at summaries) I forgot to mention that there will be sexual references and violence.
Qassanda's nimble fingers slid into the dark elf's pocket with practiced ease, she laid the silver ring in the bottom of his pocket gently and withdrew her fair hand. She slipped out from behind the plain shipping crates she was hiding behind with the stealth of only a master sneak.
After distancing herself from the elf, Qassanda raised her luscious green eyes to the man standing in his shop stall, boasting of the red elixir he was selling, his eyes grazed over her and she tapped her right wrist with her left index finger twice, the man returned his eyes to his crowd, laying down his elixir
"It looks like my time's up, come back tomorrow if you want to buy" the chattering crowd scattered and Qassanda casually made her way to the red haired salesman watching her lazily, he gave her a knowing smirk
"Good job, lass, I knew you'd be able to do it smoothly" he said, his thick accent moulding his words into sounds almost as beautiful as his face, Qassanda flashed a smile full of teeth
"Here, I grabbed this while I was busy" she said in a similar accent, handing him a bulging coin purse, he laughed
"Good job, Qass" Qassanda turned to look at the dark elf she had just planted a ring on as a man dressed in the tell-tale armour of a hold guard with a light purple sash claiming him as Riften's approached angrily
"All right, Brand-Shei. Turn out your pockets, we know you have it" the elf's slightly green-tinged face scrunched in confusion
"Have what? What in blazes are you talking about?" he hissed at the guard, noticing the eyes judging from afar, if the guard didn't leave soon, unsavoury rumours would spread and his business would collapse
"Don't play stupid. I said turn out your pockets…now!" the guard snarled in the strong, manly Nordic accent which defined many of Skyrim's citizens, Brand-Shei scowled, digging into his pockets with his hands
"I'm telling you, I don't…" his finger looped around something which wasn't supposed to be there, he pulled out the plain silver ring and looked at it
"Wait, what's this ring? This isn't mine!" Qassanda turned away from the exchange, knowing how it would end.
The Nordic woman still chuckled to herself as she heard the guard leading Brand-Shei away, she found eyes as green as the forest resting on her, matching the colour of her own beautiful orbs, she returned the gaze and the merchant wrapped an arm around her shoulder, holding her close to his chest
"Let's go get a drink, does that sound good, lass?" Qassanda shot him a smirk from beneath her hair, the strands of soft perfection seemed to find the perfect balance between the red of fresh blood and fire-salt orange, tumbling over her shoulders in a silky waterfall of colour matching the man next to her
"It sounds good if you're paying, Bryn" he grinned at her
"Alright, but count this as a family favour" Qassanda laughed
"As you wish, brother" Brynjolf held open the door to the Bee and Barb, always the gentleman.
Qassanda sauntered into the inn, her hips swaying seductively with every step.
She sat herself down at the bar and glanced up at Brynjolf, who was taking his sweet time in arriving next to her and seating himself on a bar stool, the hissy Argonian who usually minded the orders was absent however, and in her place was a kind Argonian male named Talen-Jei, he gave Qassanda what looked like a smile, a difficult assumption to make, with the fangs and scales concealing his emotions somewhat, arranging some cheese on the counter he watched Qassanda with his yellow eyes
"How can I help, Qass?" he asked fondly, ignoring her brother, Qassanda leaned forwards
"I'm interested in one of your special drinks tonight, Talen" interest lit up his eyes, the only things that Qassanda could use to define his emotions
"Of course, which one would you like?" Qassanda flashed Brynjolf a grin
"Get me a Velvet Lechance, would you?" she said, making the man roll his eyes, Talen's mood considerably worsened when he asked Brynjolf the same question, they soon sat with their drinks in hand, Brynjolf affectionately grasping a bottle of Black-Briar Reserve mead, and Qassanda playing with the handle on her metal tankard filled with her own drink.
The siblings chatted merrily; drinking away until they were a few drinks in, Qassanda drained the last flagon and placed it on the bar
"I'm going to head back to the cistern, brother" she said, beginning to make her way out of the inn before his accented voice halted her
"Qass, if you don't eat something, everyone will have to deal with you" Qassanda turned to look at her brother, a fake pout pulling on her lips and drawing the eyes of every male in the room
"What do you mean to say, Bryn?" he gestured her over with a single hand
"I mean to say that you become as irritable as a damned dremora when you're hungry; and nearly as deadly" the pout was swept from Qassanda's face by a beautiful smirk
"That is true" she said with a small chuckle, taking a seat at the bar once again and dipping her spoon into the stew before her, before long the stew was simply a few drops of broth settled in the bottom of the bowl and a content feeling settling in Qassanda's stomach, she gave Brynjolf an amused glance
"Is there anything more you want me to do, my king?" she said teasingly, Brynjolf smirked at her
"Get out of here, lass" he said with a grin, waving Qassanda out, the Nord smirked back and left the inn, the door creaking shut softly behind her.
Let me know your thoughts on this chapter, I've already written 188 pages on the story and I may not post them if people dislike the story itself. This chapter is more character development than anything.