Chapter One
There's always a moment. No matter what; there's always a moment.
"Watch where you're going!" the nobleman barked. His features were severe, a composition of harsh angles that was hardly softened by the blond slick that made up his hair. I didn't like to believe that appearances could reveal your moral bearing, but I envisaged his as pointing down a very murky path.
"I do apologise," I said, although perhaps too flatly as he answered with a sneer and snide utterance.
I raised a brow as I approached Vex, a proud imperial thief, who was leaning against the Blacksmith's shop. Her eyes drifted downwards, reading my body, before reclaiming my gaze and scoffing.
"Very good, for perhaps a nord child," she commented.
A smirk just touched my features as I pulled out the small leather purse I had plucked off of the unhospitable man. Opening it, I poured into my other hand the contents. Although small, a fine selection of jewellery came into view. The threat of being seen was negligible, the nobleman had darted down a nearby alleyway and few were up and out of the house so early in the morning. The only eyes that were a constant threat, always watching and scheming, were the Thieves Guild and they were no stranger.
"Oh?" Vex said.
I chuckled. "I overheard several days ago a nefarious scheme coming into fruition. I decided to delay their plans and perhaps reap some personal benefit in the process."
"I doubted you too soon," Vex stated.
"That you did, Vex. However, to show I have no hard feelings, I'll buy you a drink," I said.
"I'll take you up on that offer, then."
The Bee and Barb was quaint, much like the rest of the Riften. Major works needed to be done throughout the city, particularly as the wood that formed the majority of the place was beginning to deteriorate inside and out. However, for all of its rot, Riften was home.
The inn was also almost empty, although several customers were eating breakfast in preparation for the long day ahead. Vex and I sat at a table in the corner, choosing to claim as much privacy as possible despite being in public.
"So, what was this plan you overheard?" Vex asked as I placed a full flagon of ale in front of her and took a deep drink from mine. Keerava, a surprisingly soft argonian, had not even paused before serving our drinks. Consuming alcohol before the sun had fully risen was not an anomaly in a place like this. As usual, she just asked if I was keeping well and gave some semblance of a smile.
"Ah, yes, I do believe it was something to do with Windhelm and the disposing of a rather influential woman as she has, from what they have said, become a liability."
"Become a liability?" Vex queried. "Do you think they were working on a personal level or something larger?" I knew that if the matter had been personal, the light of intrigue would have dimmed from her eyes. She was only interested, and so I would only tell her, if there was something that could be related to the larger scheme of things.
"Oh, definitely something larger," I immediately answered. "Viola Giordano has gotten herself into quite a mess. From what I overheard, her disappearance would be ridding them of a prying obstacle. They mentioned she was an imperial, so her removal would not be a loss," I scoffed at the end. Skyrim was a wonderful place, brimming with dramatic scenery, cultural heritage and degenerate racists.
"Stormcloaks," she growled. "If they win this war, we'd have to go so far underground we'd never see daylight again. You can hide an occupation, but you can't hide your own skin so easily."
I took another drink as I watched her think, her expression as hard as stone as she remained fixated on the table.
"The Guild, nor I, is vastly invested in politics, but I fear what their intentions are. Your morning target may be more troll than man, but he is influential and with arms buried up to his shoulder in governmental happenings. He must have a foot in this rebellion because I can't see any other viable explanation. If this Viola's absence could provide even the smallest benefit to Ulfric Stormcloak, then we have a problem." She paused, some semblance of a smile tugging at her features. "We also should not allow a fellow imperial to come to such a pathetic end."
I snorted into my ale at her offhand remark.
"Could you drink that any faster," she grumbled.
"Oh, definitely, but I'm trying not to get drunk so early off in the day," I responded. She sighed at my apparent nonchalance.
"Look, I have very little interest in the government. Sure, I like it here and consider this home, but there's always somewhere better if need be. The world is large and my appetite is larger still."
Vex was clearly growing exasperated with my attitude, but she repressed her annoyance and levelled her tone. "Sometimes, Peregrine, things are worth fighting for. Sometimes, your home and family need to be protected."
"Ah, Vex, we're close enough. I told you that you should call me Grin," I said.
"Yes, you are close. You're incredibly close to being stabbed if you don't behave a little more seriously about this. Unlike you, Dragonborn, we are not protected by a great legacy. Unlike you, we can't just up and move and be received with open arms wherever we go."
"You know that's not true," I muttered irritably. "I'm not exactly regarded as a hero."
"In comparison with the rest of our situations, it is very much so. I need to discuss this with the others, and then we need to plan a course of action," Vex said as her eyes darted out the window, already seeing into what would come. "Be at the Ragged Flagon by midnight, and don't you dare be late."
"Very well," I answered before taking a final swig of my drink and standing up. I nodded at Vex, who remained seated and sinking by the second into deeper thoughts, and walked out of the inn. Once Vex was preoccupied, trying to engage in light-hearted conversation was nigh on impossible.
I could have kept what I knew a secret, but my indifference had limits and I knew when something was important. Even if I wasn't interested in getting involved, at least I still had some semblance of morals. Then again, the whole situation would have come back to bite me rather hard if events started moving and they realised I had known enough to have prevented some of it.
"Where has that little brat gone!" a livid voice screeched. I turned sharply, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
"Where is he?! I know you know!" The voice continued. I frowned upon realising the horrid sound was coming from the local orphanage. She must have been furious because the sound had managed to travel through the walls and grime-ridden windows. Seconds later her fury was accompanied by children whining.
I approached the establishment and knocked hard on the entrance.
A few seconds later the door was heaved open, and I was met with the human equivalent of a Hagraven. Her hair was dishevelled and her coal eyes were almost smouldering.
"What do you need?" She asked without a hint of courteousness.
"It appears you are having a problem," I said.
"There's no problem and it's none of your business," she snapped and was about to close the door when my hand darted out and slammed on the wood so hard that it shuddered. She stepped back in fright, her emotions wavering between anger and fear.
"That is no way to treat a kind helper," I said. She visibly paled, perhaps regarding my kindness more as a veiled threat. I did not bother to reform her view. "I asked you, what is the problem? Your tantrum is disrupting the neighbourhood and making business hard for those who need a little peace and quiet."
Admittedly, I was not on a thieving run, although I wouldn't let an opportunity slip me by, but I had been hoping to catch some snippets of information here and there. The best heists always came from a few slipped words, and loud squawking was certainly to startle any conversation. If people became acutely aware of their surroundings, then my job became a lot harder.
She looked at me for several seconds, trying to discern which side of the law I stood on. She caught sight of my dagger sheath and seemed to come to some decision.
"One of the children stole from me and then ran off," she said. "The brat won't get far, though. They always come back, even if it's in a body bag," she muttered the final words.
"Grin!" One of the children cried, having caught sight of me from the other room.
"Hello, Samuel," I said as he approached. He stopped just out of Grelod the Kind's reach, but smiled at me as though she were invisible.
I was actually quite familiar with Grelod the Kind, having eyes and ears everywhere, and I was not fooled by her appearance in front of officials. She smiled at the hand that fed her, but treated the rest of world with just enough frostiness that it did not warrant intervention, and rather just solidified her privacy.
"Are you going to come and teach us again?" Samuel asked.
"What's this about teaching?" Grelod asked with rising agitation.
Samuel was a brave and incredibly curious lad. I admired his tenacity. He was often the first to find me whenever I was in the city. He had grown fond of me, and I had to admit it was nice to be appreciated in such a simple way.
At first, I had avoided the children because their naivety was almost a palpable pain, and one that I yearned for. However, one summer afternoon whilst sharpening my blade, Samuel approached me and began asking questions. At first I had dismissed him, to the point of approaching threats and open hostility, but the boy did not cease to come and persisted. Eventually, he whittled me down until I conceded defeat and started to answer what questions I could. Quite often he wanted stories, and at other times he wanted practical knowledge. Shortly after, one eager face became two, and then three and four.
Having a close enough relationship to the Jarl that it would not be unfeasible or present me any significant problems in the future, I embellished the truth.
"Ah, I believed it would serve the children some benefit to learn about the outside world and gain an education. Children are an invaluable investment for the city. The honourable Jarl has allowed me the right to teach the children at your proud establishment after agreeing with my views. As I had authority from the Jarl, I seemed to have neglected informing you and for that I apologise. I hope there is no misunderstanding. I will also keep an eye out for the missing child. What is their name?" I stated. I decided to keep my speech brief to prevent any holes appearing in the fabric of my quickly concocted story.
Grelod the Kind seemed stunned by my performance. I took some satisfaction in seeing the thought of the Jarl watching her roll around in her head. Perhaps too much. The children may have never said a word, and I had no evidence for my suppositions, but some of their bruises appeared more than just childish rough-housing. Either way, with the thought of high authority watching her, I expected she would be more careful with their treatment.
I waited expectantly for her response.
"Aventus Aretino," she finally said whilst reeling in her remaining anger. She attempted to smile, but it looked more like a sneer and I was unmoved by the shift in her behaviour. I was certain that she wanted to say more, perhaps pointless flattery, and so I intervened before she could have the chance.
"Yes, I will do what I can. Good day, milady," I said and nodded before leaving.
I doubted that the Jarl would be displeased if words about my story trickled into her ear. Technically, I had received her favour and even legally owned property in the city with my own appointed house-carl. Ah, Iona was a good woman, but she knew so little about the truth. Laila was a just ruler, and her favour of me could easily extend towards teaching children, so I could not foresee any real harm.
The Ragged Flagon was saturated with tension, and my arrival just seemed to add to the concoction. Faces were a mixture of confused, despairing and angry.
"Well look what the skeever dragged in," Devin Mallory, one of the senior members of guild, greeted. I scoffed and sat down on the nearest seat, slightly apart from the steadily steaming mass of thieves.
"Is it true, Grin?" Niruin asked.
"You're discussing the old woman? Yes, if what I heard is correct, it is true," I said. The crowd rumbled in response.
"Right, enough with the chit-chat, we need to get down to business," Devin intervened. Vex was sitting beside him, her face as hard as steel. "Grin, you sure you don't know anything else about this woman?"
I sighed, flitting through my memories and trying to remember anything else. "Something to do with her knowing too much, and what would happen if information came to light. The impression I received was that, if she were to talk, a few significant players in the Stormcloak rebellion would be taken out of the picture for a fair while. It makes sense. A number of nobles are keeping quiet about their true allegiances, especially whilst power is still growing, and so I can only imagine how much treachery and subterfuge is going on."
"Well, your little game this morning may very well delay their plans for at least a few days," Devin stated, rubbing his chin with his thumb.
"We need to stop their plans. If we can convince this Viola to talk and protect her, we could probably make some contribution to this blasted war and in the right direction," Vex said.
"We're just thieves. We take care of our own and don't go looking into politics," Vipir the Fleet spoke up.
"No, Vex is right about this. We can't just let this one roll by," Brynjolf finally said. He had been watching the debate, passing a few quiet comments, but keeping more to himself whilst he worked his thoughts through. "Vex, Grin and I will go to Windhelm and stop this before it can become a bigger problem. The three of us have the necessary skill and can get the job done."
"I do not want to sit this one out," Rune shouted out.
"Nor I," Niruin, the archer, said more quietly.
"We need to have enough members here to take care of business, especially as Mercer Frey is away," Brynjolf argued. Truthfully, Brynjolf needed trusted accomplices with the right skills for such an expedition. There were few who filled those criteria, but he was too diplomatic to state it bluntly.
Realising what was being said, I spluttered out, "Excuse me?"
"Is there a problem?" Brynjolf, amusement clear in his eyes, asked.
"Well, yes. If you hadn't noticed, I never volunteered for an adventure across Skyrim. I've done enough travelling for a while," I said. My last trip to Whiterun had been particularly dramatic, including a nasty dragon and a rather awkward drunken experience with a man by the name of Sam Guevenne. I say man . . . That is definitely one temple I will not be welcome in again.
Vex fixed me with a fiery glare. I recalled her speech from the inn, and could feel it ringing in my ears. It was warning me that if I forsook them here, then they would have every right to abandon me later.
"Fine," I said, before anyone else could intervene or chastise me.
"There's a good sport," Brynjolf merrily cheered, but the note of worry was not absent from his tone. "We leave just before dawn."