Note: I do not own Skyrim, it's character's or anything else Skyrim related mentioned here, all of it's credit belongs to Bethesda.
(Minx however, is all my doing ^-^ and possibly a few other characters that I may create, I'm not 100% where I am going with this, So bear with me )
The morning's dawn had barely began to streak through the
night, breaking through the darkness, when I stirred beneath
my furs. The night had been cruel, cold, as the nights of
Skyrim always were, particularly out on the road. As I
slept, dreaming that same dream, that wasn't really a dream
at all, just darkness, whispering my name, never enough for me to catch,
Skyrim, she had left me a cool kiss to rise to from my
vulnerable dreamland state. Delicate frost crystals that
dusted my cheeks and coated my thick, long lashes. It was her
sigyl, her lipstick. She could be cruel, she could be kind,
and oh, how she loved to remind me, I was but a mere mortal,
subject to her whim. She could reclaim what she had given
me, life, at any moment she desired. Everything has it's
price.
I pull my furs closer to me, Unsure if the Divines were
kind, or cruel in letting me see and breath another day.
Everything has consequences... Not all is as it appears..
Nothing is for free. Was anything even truly ours? Something
that could not be stolen, or taken.
Life? No. Body? No. Mind? ...No.. Not even that was safe...
Mine was void of any memories, Blank darkness like that I
dream of so often, Aside from the fresh memories of recent
events. I had nothing. My hand automatically reaches up from
my furs, seeking my skull, gently massaging, as if trying to
coax even just a glimmer, a face, a name, a sound from my past.
Something.
Anything.
Nothing.
Was it best left forgotten? Were the Divines protecting or
taunting me? Was this the price I had to pay?
A name, just give me my name..Divines could you give me that
atleast?
My short duration in the Rifton's Thieves guild had earnt me
A name,
But it was not MY name.
They called me Minx, a name to suit not me, but my idenity
as a honeyed-tongue, light footed theif, who danced in the
night and in the shadows of the day.
A ghost, who had forgotten herself.
...Or was that really me?
But I was not one to complain, they had treated me well
enough, The good thing about the theives guild, is they
don't like letting oppertunities slide, and well they accept
almost anyone it's the thieves guild for fucks sake.
And with the state the guild was in, well they can't really afford to be picky.
So when they found my still bloody self, unconscious in the
rat race, having wandered into Rifton, seeking shelter from
the storm. They took me in, curious I suppose, as to how a
young woman, of such tiny delicate stature had slewn some of
the undergrounds less than welcoming inhabitants...
Curious so curious, but as it stands with the thieves guild,
many had pasts they wished to be forgotten, or atleast not
known. Terribly ironic place for me to be, I know.
It mattered not who you were, or what you had done,
as long as you got the job done, and done it well. So once
it was established I knew nothing of myself, they held their
tongues and let it be, bothering me no more on the subject,
Curiosity killed the cat after all. And they knew well they
had not 9 lives, just the given one, not a certain one at
that, a precarious balance they had to fight to keep, due to
their lifestyle.