Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Elder Scrolls: Skyrim characters. They are owned by Bethesda, I only popped the disk into my lap top and started playing them. The rest unfolded through my game play .

Author's Note: Yeah, I know, another Brynjolf Thieves Guild story. I've had this story in my head for a while now probably since my first play through the Thieves Guild questline, considering that I've clocked about 600 hours in game might give you an idea of how long that's been. It really came together when I installed the Brynjolf has time for you mod by elizabethjacksonhall on the steamworkshop. If you're playing on pc and you haven't tried it you should. I've tried a lot of Brynjolf mods and most of them are very flat and lackluster this one is very well.

This story is based on my most recent play through of Skyrim and it's my first Skyrim story so please be kind. It will cover the Thieves Guild quest in its entirety and most of the Main questline. It will use loose variations of the in-game dialog unless direct quotes are needed. I want to keep it from being too sterile.

Reviews are very welcome and appreciated.

Summary: Barrah Zyah has grown up in exile because of events that happened before she was born. She spent her life in Marrowind learning tricks of her parent's trade. Once they could put their plan into motion, Barrah made her way to Skyrim only to get ambushed by an Imperial trap. After narrowly escaping death she spent a few months laying low in Whiterun and doing odd jobs to make coin before going back to the reason she was in Skyrim, Vengeance.

Chapter 1: Riften

Barrah stared up at the walls of Riften as the carriage she'd hired in Whiterun stopped in front of the city. She'd heard stories of the walled city her entire life, it was the once home of her parents until tragedy struck. The Ragged Flagon and its Cistern had been the back drop of her mother and father's romance. To Barrah, Riften had been the fairytale land of her mother's. stories. They weren't the conventional tales her friends heard, there were no knights and princesses. The stories of her childhood were far from conventional but were more entertaining. They were about a trio of thieves known as Nightingales, two of them were deeply in love. The third was filled with green, malice, and jealousy. It was a story that didn't have a happy ending, from the time Barrah was a small girl in Marrowind she had vowed to make it right.

Of course, getting to Riften had been quite the adventure. Her whole life her mother had told her about the curse of bad luck that had befallen the members of the Thieves Guild. What she hadn't counted on was that Nocturnal was indiscriminate against their children as well. When Barrah had crossed the border into Skyrim she had been picked up by the Imperial legion. They claimed that she was traveling with false identification. The truth was her papers were probably the only thing that Barrah truly owned. The details that they claimed were false was that her race was listed as Dunmer, yet she had bright turquoise eyes instead of the red eyes of her people. Her mother had told her that her eyes, her thick curly chocolate hair, and her thirst for knowledge were the gifts her father had left her. Her mother had been fleeing Skyrim when she learned of her pregnancy. Afraid that the guild would send assassins after her, she laid low until Barrah was born. Because her father was already dead and her parents weren't married, her mother felt it was safest to not include the racial heritage he'd bestowed unto their daughter. That kind of omission wasn't illegal however, it seemed like the day she was picked up the Imperials were trying to gather as many 'criminals' as they saw fit to fill their carriages along with Ulfric Stormcloak and his army. They stripped Barrah of her belongings, forced her into rags, and had the nerve to attempted to remove her head from her shoulders. If it hadn't been for a damn dragon she would have been dead. The course of events that happened after her narrow escape from the Imperial headsmen delayed her true purpose of coming to Skyrim. It also did little to endure her to her father's country men.

When she arrived in Whiterun she had been destitute only having what little coin she had managed to scrape together in Riverwood which was barely enough to buy her some ill-fitting armor to replace what had been taken from her and leave her with a few septims to buy food. She knew that she could send a message by courier to her to her mother explaining her situation but with the war raging she wasn't sure if her mother would even receive it. The other thing that made her hesitate to do so was that she knew this was a chance to prove herself. Her mother had been protective of her all her life, though she'd taught her everything she needed to know about life as a thief and how to protect herself, she was all her mother had of her life in the Thieves Guild. All that she had left of her father, because of that her mother didn't always think rationally where Barrah was concerned. She would come in bow brandished and ruin the plans that they'd spent her entire life to perfect. Barrah also needed to know that she could pull herself out of the gutter on her own. The few months she spent in Whiterun she acquainted herself with the Companions and through them along with odd jobs she took for the Jarl she managed to acquire a house and a small amount of wealth. Then there was that whole dragonborn business. After Barrah discovered her dragon blood lineage and met with The Greybeards and Delphine of the Blades she decided she had no desire to spend her life meditating to the sky in some monastery nor did she want to spend her life hunting down dragons to extinction. As for the black dragon, the one they called Alduin, well he had inadvertently saved her life. Trying to kill him after that, well it seemed ungrateful. Even while she had been spending her time, becoming a werewolf, and delving into crypts full of draugr there was only one thing that occupied her thoughts. That was vengeance.

"End of the line." The carriage driver brought the horse to a halt.

Barrah grabbed her rucksack and climbed out of the carriage. "Thanks." She said pulling a few septims from her coin bag and tipping the driver a few extra coins. "Can you tell me anything about Riften?" she asked.

"Aye watch your coin purse, the city is home to the Thieves Guild. You can get a clean bed and a decent meal at the Bee and Barb. You should check out the Black-Briar Meadery for a good drink but watch out for Maven Black-Briar. She owns this city and angering her, well let's just say no good will come of it." The driver said.

"Thanks again." She said pulling the strap of her satchel over her shoulder along with her quiver of arrows and bow and headed towards the gate.

Before Barrah could go into the city one of the gaurds stopped her. "Before you enter the city you have to pay a tax." He said.

Barrah arched a delicate brow at him, "What for?"

"It's a visitor's tax." He said, "You think we let just anyone visit our fair city?"

She could tell he wasn't used to having people questioning him about the tax. Most probably paid it just to keep from causing trouble. Barrah however wasn't most people. "Look, I know a shake down when I see one. I ran bigger and better scams when I was still in my nappies. So, you are going to unlock the gate and let me pass."

The guard stared at her for several seconds thinking about what was in his power to do to the impertinent lass. Realizing that she had broken no laws he knew that he couldn't arrest her, she was right it was a shake down. He just wasn't sure what he was going to tell Brynjolf. "Shhh…. keep your voice down." He said before going to unlock the gate.

Brynjolf was at his stall selling his Falmer Blood Elixir when one of the front gate guards approached him. It was a bit of surprise; the city guards didn't come talk to him. He sought them out when they were useful to him which wasn't very often. The coin brought in from the gate shake down helped keep the guards under control as it was a lucrative deal. Riften often got visitors because of the Black-Briar Meadery and the Temple of Mara. If he was honest with himself it was one of the only lucrative schemes they had running now aside from the occasional contract that came to them. Though he wasn't willing to admit it he feared that the guild was on its way out of Skyrim. "Is there a reason you're bothering me during business hours?" he asked.

"There was a situation at the gate that I thought you should know about." The guard stammered, "A woman arrived."

Brynjolf raised an eyebrow, "You need my help about talking to women?"

He shook his head, "Not that kind of situation." He said, "When I tried to collect the tax she refused. She said we were running a shake down and that she had run better ones in her nappies. Then she refused to pay."

Brynjolf laughed at the indignant tone of the guard. "Well she's correct it is a shake down. Where is the lass now?"

The guard nodded to where a slight Dunmer woman was talking to Maul. "That's her."

Brynjolf nodded and dismissed the guard and sized the small woman up. He knew that she wasn't in Riften for the normal reasons. She was young probably in her mid-twenties and she carried herself with an air of confidence even when talking to Maven Black-Briar's watch dog, Maul scared most grown men just by looking at them. Even at the distance he was from her he could tell that she was beautiful, and not just beautiful for an elf. She was a beautiful woman. He face held none of the harsh angles that were common in among the Mer people nor did she have that high receding hairline. Her face was heart shaped and her blue eyes alone gave away the fact that her blood was mixed. Her hair was a long chocolate color and though it hung over her shoulder in an intricate braid several pieces had escaped and framed her face. Though she had a bow and quiver strapped to her back and a dagger at her hip she wasn't dressed in armor. Instead she was dressed in traditional Dunmer fashion, a long-hooded tunic with loos fitting pants that tucked into bandage style boots. However, they weren't colored in the garish colors the Dunmer of Marrowind were drawn to. Instead they were dyed in black, grey, and deep purple. Colors that were easier for hiding in the shadows and light weight to keep from weighing her down. Knowing there where was something different about the lass he said, "Tell Maul I to meet me in the tavern." If Brynjolf knew anything it was that Maul would have gotten a better read on the woman than the guard had.

After Brynjolf finished gathering his things he went into the Bee and Barb and set at one of the tables. It wasn't common for him to spend much time in the tavern after all his own associates had their own establishment that suited his needs. It was no secret that even though the upstanding citizens of Riften were friendly with the guild when it suited their needs but that didn't mean they wanted them in their places of business. The Thieves Guild's headquarters under their city also provided them with a certain amount of protection. Though they were a band of thieves they had very strict rules. Riften was their home unless bound by contract they didn't steal inside of the city. It was just bad business and the last thing they needed was Riften gaurds bumbling through the ratway trying to eradicate them. Sure, there were some in the city that spoke out against their organization but it was all talk. Riften was in deep with the guild it always had been and as far as Brynjolf was concerned it always would be.

Maul walked into the tavern and set down with him, "You wanted to see me?" he asked before nodding to Keerava to bring him some mead.

Brynjolf nodded as he nursed his own mead, "Aye, seems we had a small matter at the gate."

Maul smirked, "I'm assuming it was by a smart mouth Dunmer?"

"She left the guard scratching his head." He replied.

Maul laughed, "Must have been a pleasant change for his balls." He said. The Black-Briar watch dog had no love for the city guard. With everything going on outside of the Rift, the war, and the dragons he knew they were spread thin. That was no excuse for plain stupidity though.

Brynjolf laughed, "Aye, I imagine it was." He took a long drink of his mead, "Now, what was your take on the lass?"

Maul shrugged, "She's different than the normal lot we get through here. When I asked her if she was looking for trouble she told me that trouble was a grand idea, that she'd have to think on it and get back to me."

He laughed, "Smart mouthed, lass. We could use someone with spirit."

"Maven won't like her." Maul said.

"Our dear patron is only truly fond of one person and that's herself. However, what she does like is gold lined coffers." Brynjolf said.

Maul studied the contents of his tankard. There were few people who could talk about Maven Black-Briar honestly in front of him and get away with it. Brynjolf was luckily one of them. "So, you're going to take this girl under your wing?" he asked.

"Aye, I'm going to try."

He nodded, "I have a feeling that she's trouble."

Brynjolf smirked, "The best ones are."