Sweet baby Jeebus! Thank you so much for all the favorites and for the reviews! I had no idea this story would get such positive feedback! *big smiles*

"Now, what is this?"

Brynjolf jumped, glancing over his shoulder as his hand hovered over a sparkling sapphire lying on the shelf. A small shadow stood behind him, hip cocked to one-side and arms folded across a very feminine chest. They moved slowly to the kitchen table and lit a candle, the light of the flame illuminating dark-honey skin and amber eyes sparkling mischievously. Brynjolf gaped and lowered his hand to his side.

"What are you doing here, lass?"

The Bosmer grinned, leaning against the table with an amused arch of her eyebrow.

"What can I say? Your little organization has been doing well for me. Though, the real question is what are you doing here?"

Shock washed over him and Brynjolf hastily stood to his full height, dwarfing the Bosmer in his shadow.

"You bought Honeyside?"

Athyn laughed, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her delicately pointed ear.

"I would have thought the Guild would have that information on hand," she mused, taking a step towards the Nord. She cocked her head to one side, eyes meeting his. "Do you always come to burgle your new recruits or am I just lucky?"

Brynjolf chuckled. The shock of being caught faded away and he mirrored Athyn's cocky stance.

"You're lucky, but my heart is breaking. You have quite the collection here, lass." To prove his point, Brynjolf reached into his pack and pulled out a handful of gems and jewelry he had swiped during his raid. Athyn's amber eyes rested on the baubles, her red lips lifting into a smirk.

"Are you planning on putting them back?"

"Unfortunately, it's against the code to steal from other members of the guild. So, I guess I will," Brynjolf sighed. Athyn took another step toward him, just a breath away now. She smelled of the forest and mountain air. Her wheat-blonde hair was unbraided for once, hanging loosely to her shoulders.

"I suppose I could be persuaded to let you keep them…"

Cold water enveloped him. Brynjolf coughed and sputtered, flailing about as his head popped up for air. Vex stood on the dry platform of the Ragged Flagon, icy eyes narrowed irritably at him and arms crossed.

"Are you finished ignoring me now?" She scowled. Brynjolf pulled his dripping body out of the water, muttering about his waterlogged armor.

"Did you really have to push me in?" He grumbled, sitting at a table so he could pull his boot off and shake the water out of it. Vex sat across from him, shaking her head as she watched.

"You're pathetic, you know?"

Brynjolf's eyes narrowed dangerously, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Vex huffed and leaned back in her seat, "You've been distracted for the past three weeks, let it go."

Three weeks? Had it really been that long? Brynjolf moved to retort but Vex continued, "It's not the first time something like this has happened to the Guild. I know you and the little elf were buddies, but that doesn't change the fact that she's gone now. Sitting around here, drowning yourself in ale and self-pity isn't going to help, especially since Mercer left to chase after Karliah." Vex kicked him under the table when he opened his mouth to protest. "I don't care if this isn't what you want to hear, it's the truth. You're in charge and yet you've been doing nothing but mope around the Flagon. You leave every night to go gods know where and let us fend for ourselves! We need someone to keep things running, Bryn! If you can't, then pass the gauntlet to Delvin or someone else because we can't risk the guild sinking further than it already has!"

"Fine," Brynjolf scowled. "Tell Delvin it's all up to him."

Vex scowled but she said nothing else on the matter. She stood and stormed off and left Brynjolf to watch her walk away with a frown. After a few moments, he sighed and abandoned the tavern—dragging himself through the Ratway out into town. He slipped through the night, undetected by the guards patrolling the mostly empty streets.

Brynjolf found himself in front of Honeyside before his mind could even register that he had made the journey. He stared at the dark windows and the wilted plants in the once beautiful garden.

He could never forgive her. But gods, that didn't mean he didn't miss her.


"Look how wrinkled this is!" Enthir held the paper between his thumb and forefinger, grimacing as he tried to decipher the charcoal rubbing. Athyn sneered at the other Bosmer, slamming her flagon of mead on the table. Karliah—Oh, so you can join me now princess?—jumped at the sudden movement and narrowed her violet eyes at the younger elf.

"Tell you what: next time you need something retrieved from a dwemer-rigged shithole, you can go yourself. I've been in a lot of tight binds before, but never one that I had to jump into a damned waterfall to avoid. So, sorry, your rubbing got wrinkly, deal with it."

"I think you've had quite enough," Karliah sighed, taking the flagon and dumping its contents into a chamberpot, ignoring the young Bosmer's protests. Enthir shook his head, narrowing his eyes at the black rubbing before flipping open Gallus's journal. He sighed in relief.

"You're in luck. I'll be able to translate this with little trouble," he smiled at Karliah, pointedly ignoring his kinsman, before returning his attention to the book. His brow furrowed and he frowned, "This…doesn't look good."

"What does it say?" Karliah asked, moving to look over Enthir's shoulder as though she could help decipher the cryptic entry.

"Gallus suspected Mercer was stealing from the guild. Here, let me transcribe a translation for you."

"Thank you Enthir," Karliah watched him eagerly, listening intently as he read entry after entry. Athyn tried to force her mead-buzzed brain to pay attention to what Enthir was saying, but she honestly didn't care about why Gallus was murdered. She'd never known him and he'd never done anything for her, so what was the big deal? All that mattered was that they had proof that she—and Karliah, Athyn begrudgingly added as an afterthought—was innocent.

"We need to get to the Guild. They can't ignore evidence like this," Karliah said, taking the newly translated journal and slipping it into her pack. The Dunmer turned to Athyn and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Athyn shrunk back in her seat warily, meeting Karliah's lavender eyes and scowling.

"What?"

"I expected some sort of remark out of you, yet you've been uncharacteristically silent despite all we've learned."

"Mercer is stealing from the guild and we're innocent, there's nothing really to say. All we need to do now is kill the bastard and go home."

"Not in that order, but I suppose you're right," Karliah turned to Enthir, thanking him on last time before she motioned for Athyn to follow her out of the inn. Athyn stood, slightly dizzy and shaky on her feet, but she refused to admit that Karliah had been right in cutting off her drinking binge. She followed the Dunmer as quick as she could, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

This is going to be a long trip…


"Oh, thank the gods," Athyn groaned, seeing Riften's gates shadowed in the evening sun. Karliah gave a small hum of agreement and shifted her bow on her shoulder. The days had been long and rough; the pair of elves only stopped to sleep for a few hours at night and took their meals as they walked. "I'm exhausted."

"Don't relax just yet," Karliah chastised, "We aren't even inside the city, and even when we are it will be far from a vacation."

Athyn groaned and forced her weary muscles to keep moving, "I can't take Mercer on like this. I'll be dead long before his sword tries to slit my throat a second time."

"For once, I think we agree," Karliah sighed. Athyn's ear twitched and she straightened slightly.

"I have a house, you know. We could lay low until the morning and recuperate before heading to the guild. It's in the back of the town and hardly anyone ever passes by, it should be safe."

Karliah didn't seem so sure, but her body was begging for a reprieve. She hesitantly nodded and followed the Bosmer inside the city. Past the gates, the elves quickly ducked into an alley, taking side streets and avoiding other citizens until they arrived in front of Honeyside.

Athyn retrieved her key and ushered the Dunmer inside. She locked the door behind them and looked around her neglected kitchen with a sigh. Karliah didn't seem impressed, but kept her mouth shut as she glanced about.

"There's an extra room downstairs," Athyn said, moving towards her own bedroom. "You can rest up there and-" The Bosmer's amber eyes widened, taking in the wreckage. Her bed was ripped apart, sheets, pillows and furs strewn across the room. Books had been thrown from the shelf and ceramic shards from what she guessed had once been her vase littered the floor. And there, at her feet, lay Wind-Catcher. Her prized bow was snapped in half, the splintered wood gazing up at her accusingly and her breath caught in her throat.

Athyn kneeled and took the broken weapon in her shaking hands, "Who could've done this?"

Karliah surveyed the damage with a frown, it didn't seem like the kind of thing Mercer would do, nor was it the work of some small-time burglar. The way Athyn cradled the bow in her hands led Karliah to believe that this attack was personal. Emotional.

"Your bow can be repaired," she offered, picking a few books off the floor and replacing them on the shelf with a frown. Athyn nodded slightly, tracing her fingers along the wood. "Come, let's straighten up a bit and try to focus on why we're here. You can hunt down the culprit once Mercer is taken care of."

Athyn gasped and looked up.

"It had to have been someone from the Guild!" She exclaimed, "Mercer stole my bow, remember? He must have brought it back to show them that I was dead, but…"

Poor Brynjolf, I always knew you'd break his little heart.

Athyn's throat constricted, the distress she felt at losing her favorite weapon was quickly overshadowed by the reason of its destruction. The elf was unsure if it was rage or sorrow that consumed her, so often had she felt the two emotions side-by-side. She bit her lip and carefully moved the weapon into the other room before returning to help clean her room, deciding that it could wait until morning.

"Everything will be fixed soon enough," Karliah promised upon her return.

"Oh look," Athyn forced a weak smirk and began fixing her bed, "you can be optimistic."


Brynjolf stopped himself before he went any further. What was he doing? Every night he made the same journey, and every night he met the same disappointment. He was only prolonging his misery and he knew it. But, his feet began moving once again and he moved silently through the town.

This will be the last time, he decided. Just one last look and then I'll never come back. He remembered he had made quite a mess of the place and frowned. Athyn would've killed him…if she could. He rounded the corner, prepared to be met with the dark, dusty windows and neglected garden—prepared for disappointment.

What he saw turned his feet to lead and flipped his stomach. Firelight streamed through the glass, it was dim but it was there. Brynjolf shook his head in disbelief and slipped to the window, lifting his head enough to peek inside the kitchen.

It can't be…

Athyn sat at her table, forlornly tracing the patterns carved into the shattered wood of her bow. The fire made her skin shine and Brynjolf noticed a thick scar wrapped around her neck, blemishing her once perfect skin. His mind was flooded with a thousand thoughts, ranging from barging in and ravishing her to throwing her down and finishing the job that Mercer started.

So many emotions, so many scenarios he could play out in his mind. But, they all were proof of one thing. Athyn was here.

She was alive.

Two more parts coming up! Thank you for your support! Reviews are love!