So, I am completely and utterly obsessed with Skyrim. I have dedicated more than 250 hours of my life to this game... and I'm not sure if that's something I should be bragging about or not. Anyways, this story has been floating around in my head for quite some time. I actually had the first chapter written forever ago, but then I lost interest in writing it for some reason. The other day though, my friend ended up reading what I had and she liked it a lot, so I decided, what the hell, and am now uploading it on FanFiction.

This story is focusing on my Thieves Guild O.C. and my Dragonborn O.C. and their adventures throughout the game. Eventually (really stressing that part) this will turn into a romance. I'm giving fair warning now that there will be both major and minor changes in the Skyrim storyline that everyone is used to. Creative privilege can be a bitch sometimes, huh? But anyways, if you see something I write that doesn't match up with the game, most likely I did it on purpose, and it isn't a mistake.

I'm going to make an effort to update every two weeks or so, but most likely they'll be sporadic at best. Hopefully a few of you will stick around for it all. Feel free to rate and review and all that stuff, but for now, enjoy the show!


Arrival

The walls of Whiterun towered over the surrounding tundra plains. A small, shadowy figure regarded the city in front of her from the safety of the neighboring trees, her bright green eyes tracing the outline of Dragonsreach, the small farms just outside the walls, and the number of guards that patrolled the area. Well… Riane thought to herself, it'll do. She straightened from her vantage point in the brush, pulling her hood low over her brow. Slowly, she began her trek to the gates, pulling up her scarf to cover the lower half of her face. She was well aware that she was a stranger in this city, and the concealment of her identity wasn't going to inspire much trust in the locals. But her anonymity was far too precious to her, and she would accept any consequences received because of it.

After getting passed the guards, who - giving her looks that just screamed suspicion- warned her to stay out of trouble or she'd be enjoying a not-so-cozy night in the dungeons, she paused inside the gates. The city was larger than it seemed from outside, and much busier than Riften. People milled about everywhere, some shooting her curious stares, and she could hear the vendors in the market down the street. The loud clanging of a hammer on steel reverberated in her ears from the forge she stood near. Riane sighed. Knew I should've gone to Winterhold… Deciding that, unfortunately, asking someone for directions would now be easier than wandering about the city, she begrudgingly approached the woman at the forge.

"Excuse me," Riane greeted softly. The woman glanced up at her and, shooting her a distasteful look, straightened. "I need some assistance. Could you point me to an inn?" she inquired, ignoring the woman's sneer at her concealed face. With a grunt, the Imperial leaned back over her workbench and continued to pound out the sword she was working on.

"The Bannered Mare is straight down this road. It's the place to be here in Whiterun. If you want something a little more off the beaten track, I'd suggest the Drunken Huntsman. It's right across the street and up the stairs." Riane glanced over her shoulder at the little building up on the hill. Off the beaten track was definitely preferable.

"Thank you," she said, nodding to the Imperial. Riane turned and headed up the stairs, eager to be hidden away in the relative privacy of a rented room. She pretended not to notice the woman's suspicious scowl burning into her back. Upon entering the Drunken Huntsman, Riane found that it was rather to her liking. It had a spacious main room with a large, roaring hearth in its center. Most importantly to her, however, was the fact that it was blessedly empty- aside from a quiet Dunmer woman sitting in an alcove.

"Ah! Hello there, my Breton friend," the Bosmer behind the counter greeted. Riane nodded politely in greeting as she approached. The elf's smiled widened as he noticed the bow strapped to her back. "I see you're a hunter! Excellent. You're certainly in the right place for any supplies you could ever need. My brother and I pride ourselves on keeping a fully stocked cache for our fellow archers."

Riane smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. Divines know that archery is a seriously underappreciated art in this country." The elf's eyes twinkled with approval at her words as he nodded his agreement. "Right now though, I'm exhausted. I was thinking something more along the lines of renting a room for now."

"Of course," the Bosmer said cheerfully, stepping out from behind the counter. "Come right this way, friend." Riane followed him up the stairs and to a small bedroom. The bed was low to the ground and covered with warm-looking furs, and a small pitcher of water stood on the nightstand. "We usually charge ten septims a night," the innkeeper chirped, hovering at the doorway as though afraid he was being rude. Riane reached into her coin purse and drew out 10 of her meager septims, handing them over to the elf. He smiled appreciatively at her as he pocketed the coins.

"Thank you, friend. If you need anything, just call." Riane nodded as he closed the door behind him, and then fell wearily onto the bed. She was exhausted; she hadn't slept in a real bed since she'd left Riften. Absentmindedly, she fingered her purse, which didn't jingle nearly as much as it needed to. I suppose I'll have to go and sell the loot I got from those bandits… she mused quietly. Her eyes, though, fluttered closed on their own accord, as fatigue curled through her body. After a quick nap, that is.


Riane jerked awake, sitting bolt upright in an unfamiliar bed. Where was she? Blearily, she looked around the tiny room, and finally her memory returned. I'm in an inn in Whiterun… that's right. From the looks of the sun, she'd only been asleep a few hours. She sighed as she laid back down, pulling down her scarf so she could take a deep breath. She found it…interesting that she couldn't bring herself to take it off, even while she slept. Leaving it around her neck, Riane decided to try to keep it there, to walk undisguised into town. It didn't take long for her fingers to start twitching to pull it back into place.

She couldn't help her miserable little sigh. None of this felt right. She missed Riften; she missed the constant stench of fish and foulness that came from the lake, she missed the red and gold leaves that crunched under her feet as she walked, and more importantly, she missed the sense that her paranoia was well placed. Here in this city, there really was no need to constantly glance over her shoulder, to conceal her identity. But she still found herself pulling the scarf back over her nose. So long as there wasn't a face to match the name, Riane could protect herself. Old habits die hard, I suppose, she mused.With a groan, she sat up and grabbed her satchel, rifling through its contents. A few pieces of jewelry and a single garnet- that was all she'd managed to loot from the corpses of the bandits who had thought her an easy target. Silently, she damned them all for not carrying more gold. Then with another heavy sigh, Riane stood and looped the satchel over her shoulder, heading to the market to try and make a little coin.


The market in Whiterun wasn't as big as the one in Riften, but it was much busier. People crowded around the handful of stalls, chattering away with one another. Even those who weren't shopping lingered around, enjoying the lovely Second Seed afternoon. Riane sighed internally. She was definitely regretting not going to Winterhold. She'd take the freezing cold over the crowds any day. Deciding to suffer through her impromptu torture, she cautiously approached the old woman behind the jewelry stand.

"Hello, my dear," the woman greeted kindly. "See anything that catches your eye?" Riane smiled at the woman, pointless as it was with her scarf covering her face.

"Actually, I was hoping to sell… if that's alright?" She prayed to the Nine that it was. The woman simply chuckled and smiled, however.

"Of course, of course!" she exclaimed. "Let's see what you have." Riane carefully pulled out the baubles that she had collected and placed them on the counter. Fingering them carefully, the woman smiled again at her. "Let old Fralia take a look at these."

As Fralia hummed and looked over the pieces of jewelry, Riane let her eyes wander around the market, observing the daily activity. A small group of children scampered about, chasing one another and weaving through the throng of adults. A cluster of three dark-haired men laughed boisterously together on the stairs leading to the Wind District. It all seemed so… normal. What she would imagine as normal, anyways. Growing up on the streets and in the Riften sewers had left Riane sorely lacking in knowledge pertaining to anything as such.

"Curious, though." The old woman's musing pulled Riane's attention back to her. "A stranger like yourself hiding their face…" Fralia glanced at her over the ring she was examining. "None of my business, of course, but could the little miss be running from something? Hmm?"

Riane was startled. No one had ever read into her like that before. Not even Brynjolf for Talos' sake! However, instead of being worried or running the other way like she knew she should, she found herself smiling at the other woman. "Why would you assume such a thing? Perhaps I'm simply cold. A perpetual case of a dripping nose sounds rather unpleasant, wouldn't you say?" The old woman burst out laughing, and Riane couldn't help but chuckle herself.

"Ah, you're a funny little one it seems!" Fralia cackled.

"Well, I have been-"

"What do you think you're doing, eh?" Riane turned, startled, to the guard who had interrupted her.

"Pardon?" she asked, confused. The guard crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at her from behind his helmet.

"Don't play coy with me, girl. I know Thieves Guild armor when I see it. You're not fooling anyone."

Riane's heart slammed into her throat. The market had fallen silent when the guard had confronted her; now, hushed whispers flew through the air, bits of "trash" and "lowlife" ringing in her ears. Accusing stares burned into her at every angle. She should have known. How could she have been so stupid? Just because the Guild was nothing but a husk of its former self, people could still recognize the tell-tale armor. Stupid, stupid rookie mistakes! She raged at herself. Brynjolf would have laughed at her predicament.

Swallowing the urge to run, she pulled herself up to her full- less than impressive- height. "I've done absolutely nothing wrong. I'm selling some wares and nothing more." She thanked whichever Divine or Daedra supporting her that her voice had come out strong.

"Hah!" the guard snorted. "More like you were trying to steal from Fralia right under her nose. I suggest you find somewhere else to haunt before I throw you in the dungeons."

"I would do no such-"

"That's enough out of you." The group of men on the stairs made their way down to stand beside the guard. All of them were tall, and so heavily muscled that they reminded Riane of the trunks of the huge pine trees that dominated the region. Two of them were obviously twins, while the other was slightly less rough in appearance. "We watch out for our own," that one growled, his stormy eyes glaring maliciously at her. "I catch you with your hand somewhere it shouldn't be, and by my right as a Companion, I'll cut it off. Understand? Now you'd better get out of my sight."

Riane returned his glower with a venomous one of her own, her temper simmering in her veins. "Do you think I'm frightened of you? I've had more concern over mudcrabs with twice the brains you have, and ten times the manners," she snapped. "Who are any of you to accuse people of their intentions simply due to ignorant prejudices? It's no secret as to why Whiterun's presence has diminished over the years; it's because of backwards pigs such as you." With that, she turned on her heel and stormed back towards the Huntsman, ignoring the look of pure fury on the man's face. Good, she thought viciously. She half expected the brute to come after her, but a quick glance over her shoulder revealed that he had been swallowed up by the crowd. Still… she thought to herself, I'll need to keep my guard up now. And not just because of him and his lackeys. The entire city of Whiterun now knew that she was from the Guild. It looked as though her stay wouldn't be nearly as long as she had anticipated; Riane honestly couldn't decide if that was for better or worse.