Author's Note: This is a short, silly little thing I thought up as a raced through the Thief Guild quest line for the hundredth time. Most of it's told from Brynjolf's perspective but there is a bit of time framing, where Brynjolf remembers things, this is told between the breaks. The second chapter bounces back and forth between the Dragonborn's POV and Brynjolf's.

- A Thief Shaped Puzzle Box

The Guild Master had always been somewhat of an enigma to Brynjolf and the rest of the guild for that matter. With a bemused expression he watched the Ragged Flagon. The woman in question currently playing a hand of cards with Mallory as he started to recall all the small things he learned about her over the months that lead up to her claiming that title.

She'd waltz into Riften, wearing some faded leather armor with naught but a pair of daggers on her side and hood covering her face. Nocturnal only knew why, but he'd had a good feeling about her and took a leap of faith. That one moment of lunacy paid off in dividends. With the ease of a practiced thief she framed Brand-Shei and slipped into the Ragged Flagon. It was then he first noticed, she hadn't spoken a word. She merely nodded or shook her head and he still hadn't seen her face.

Over the course of the next few jobs he noticed a few things; she was either a relatively short Nord or a Breton. She just didn't have the swagger of an Imperial. She was quiet, not just verbally but the woman was born to be a thief. She took to the new armor like a beggar to gold, keeping it in fine condition and even upgrading her weapons. Now she permanently carried a bow and quiver, her daggers were a pair of short swords. How she managed to carry all that and still be as soundless as Death, he wasn't sure he would ever know. The next thing he noticed, she did not trust Mercer. It was there in the stiffness of her spine, the slant of her body as if ready for an attack. She was much more relaxed when he wasn't around.

The other Guild members had started a game, 'unmask' the new blood. Thus far the betting pool are rather large and no one had managed to pull her hood off. If he didn't know better he'd think she had enchanted the blasted thing.

The Goldenglow job he was sure she wouldn't come back from, Vex had barely made it back, there was just no way some padfoot was going to. In a turn of events no one predicted, she did. Not only did she return, but she burned down just the right amount of beehouses, brought back the paperwork and even found a rare artifact Delvin had been sniffing around for. No one doubted her after that, except that she disappeared for weeks. Mercer started grousing about her being scared off, running off with a perfectly good set of the guild's armor.

Rumors had started to circulate of a 'Dragonborn' surfacing, of dragons attacking the countryside and the Thalmor generally mucking things up. When she showed back up, slipping into the Flagon late one night. She turned in a pile of side work for Delvin and Vex, sold a sack full of goods to Tonila and then slipped into the Warrens with a wave. A quick check with the two others told him, she had taken several side jobs before she left last time, which would explain her extended absence. Moments after she slipped into the Warrens Thalmor had shown up, back then no one had pieced it together.

When she next returned, she lingered for a while. Doing some side jobs and helping Mercer out, however her tension around the man was nearly palpable at this point. Then they both left, only Mercer returned. His heart shattered when the other thief told them she was dead. Except, for a dead woman she'd shown up a few weeks later with yet another woman no one thought to see again.

The three of them, met at Nocturnal's shrine while Karliah opened the passage he remembered studying her. Her hair had grown so long that a braid of it now fell outside of her hood, revealing it's rich red color. In that moment he learned she was a red-head, another piece of the puzzle. When they were given the armor of the Nightingales he learned something else, she was definitely a nord. She'd pulled off her armor with her back to him, he'd seen the scars and fading bruises but her lithe form was still that of a Nord woman, not Breton. As she pulled the hood over her head she'd glanced at him, raising a perfectly sculpted brow and revealing twin pools of burning silver. Then it was gone, under the dark hood of the Nightingale.

Their trip to Irkngthand was rather underwhelming, once inside though he watched as with brutal efficiency she disabled dwarven traps. He remembered asking her how she knew so much about them, she'd merely shrugged at the time. Even Karliah had made an off hand comment about her silence then. He remembered the fight with Mercer with startling clarity, it was then he saw her use the first bit of magic. She'd cast several spells with rapid succession, after running out of arrows she started summoning arrows. So it was then he learned she was clearly a battle-mage, on top of a thief.

After their escape, she'd handed both of the Eyes over to him and left him and Karliah, presumably to go to the Twilight Sepulcher. He'd wanted to go with her, but had far too many plans to be able to, though he'd wished Karliah had. So the two of them journeyed back to the Guild, while wishing the talented young woman all the best.

He remembered in misery the weeks that dragged on. He, Vex, Karliah and Delvin had all decided she had earned the right to be called Guild Master. After all it was her efforts with side jobs that had restored the Flagon, it was her efforts that had tracked Mercer, and now they hoped it would be her efforts that returned Nocturnal's favor to them.

Once more rumors started circulating, of the Dragonborn defeating Alduin and saving Skyrim. With the dragons supposedly defeated the civil war had kicked up in earnest. He remembered hearing of the Imperials resounding defeat at the hands of Ulfric and his Dragonborn compatriot. A week later, she sauntered into the Cistern, to a resounding applause. She was wearing the Nightingale set of armor, even when they named her Guild Master.

Now as he watched her, he wondered on her disappearances, the alignment with rumors of the Dragonborn and if they were one in the same. She never spoke, he'd only seen her face once.. Leaning against the bartop in the Flagon he watched her silently. She'd been approaching him lately but not wanting to be subject to the silent game of figuring out what her staring meant he'd brushed her off time and again. He felt a little guilty about it, it's started out honest enough, as honest as any thief got. He had been busy. Then he'd turned it into a game to see if she would actually speak. Somehow the game had turned into avoidance. It was cruel and he felt all the more rotten for it but he couldn't get himself to stop. He'd realized he was in love with the silent puzzle that was their Guild Master.

Tonight he was drinking in hopes of washing his gutlessness away, however she'd yet to approach him. In fact, she'd actively avoided him. Was she returning his poison to him? If so he'd say she was doing a magnificent job of making him feel less than dirt. As she rose from her card game, having thoroughly stroused the older thief he lifted his mug to her in greeting. He could feel those mercurial eyes staring at him from under her hood, she gave him the barest of nods then left.

Three weeks lumbered by, he'd asked Vex and Delvin if she'd taken more side jobs, she hadn't, he'd asked Karliah if she'd been to Nightingale Hall, she hadn't. Where the devil was she? He'd even stopped by Honeyside to see if she was there. She wasn't, but there had been a note, addressed to him.

Brynjolf,

I'm headed to Solstheim. I imagine by the time you actually get your knickers together and hunt this note down I'll be back. However on the off-chance I enter Nocturnal's Embrace early, keep the house.

-Sigrid Stormblade

So he learned several new things about the Guild Master then; her full name, that her handwriting was rather flowing and almost feminine, and that she was sarcastic as Vex. Her name however came with a two-fold illumination, Stormblade was the moniker of Ulfric's Dragonborn companion. Their Guild Master was the Dragonborn. With that final piece of the puzzle slipping into place he began to understand the mysterious woman he'd fallen in love with. Her random disappearances were always aligned with the resurgence of rumors about the Dragonborn because she was off fighting bloody dragons.

"But why Solstheim?" Tucking the note in his many pockets he slipped back down to the Ratways, time to do some digging and chase down their wayward Guild Master.