A/N: Thank you to Guest for reviewing, BlackOpal218 for following, and alienawyvern for favoriting and following!
Brynjolf slowly came to. Tied to a chair, there wasn't much he could do but look around. He noticed he was in a very small room. The man saw two tall shelves, both full of soul gems. Wincing at the throbbing in the back of his head, Bryn turned his neck to the left, spying an arcane enchanter with three cruel ebony weapons displayed on plaques next to it and a bookshelf stuffed full of tomes. He did not want to know what the weapons had been enchanted to do. A soft, slightly familiar voice cut through his thoughts.
"Sleep well?" Brynjolf could practically hear the smirk in her voice.
"About as well as I could, given the circumstances," he managed to laugh a little. Apparently his captor found it amusing as well, given the light laugh that came from behind him.
"What were you doing in my home?" Playtime was over.
Brynjolf wondered why he recognized the assassin's voice. Pondering it, he didn't answer her. He heard a heavy sigh and the woman's tone harshened. "I won't ask again. What were you doing in my home?"
He knew she knew he was there to steal her belongings. Deciding against fibbing, Brynjolf cursed at the shakiness in his voice as he responded. "I was sent on a mission to steal lots of gold in this city. The locals said this house was all but abandoned, so I figured it would be a good place to get in and get out unseen."
"You were wrong."
Why did the owner have to be in town the one time the house was broken into? Curse his luck. Brynjolf registered a light thud from behind him, and then felt fingers ghosting along his shoulder, towards his neck. His heart was thudding loudly enough that surely the assassin could hear it. She laughed softly. "You are afraid."
Brynjolf gained a bit of confidence in his next response. "Of course I'm afraid! I've heard what the Brotherhood does to those unfortunate enough to break into their homes. If I had known it was your house, I -"
The assassin cut him off. "If you had known this house was owned by a member of the Brotherhood, we wouldn't have been having this conversation. You would have been dead." She glared at him, though he couldn't see it.
Brynjolf tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He was in mortal danger, and wasn't sure he'd be able to talk his way out of this mess.
To say Svana was surprised to see Brynjolf coming out of her home was an understatement. She hadn't seen the man in a very long time, and definitely hadn't expected him to be in Windhelm. She figured if she avoided Riften, she avoided her other responsibilities. Clearly, it didn't work out that way. Cursing to herself, Svana told herself that she just needed to get rid of him in a manner that wouldn't tie back to her friends. Masking her surprise, Svana gave the minutest of nods to Calder, who had followed the thief outside. One swift hit later, Brynjolf was out cold.
"Help Calder carry him to the room, Reyda."
The assassin-in-training slowly moved out of the shadows and into the torchlight. She had been following her Dark mistress from a distance, as the woman had requested.
"Yes, my Listener."
Calder and Reyda carried the unconscious man into the hidden magic room, Svana having gone ahead and opened up the false panel. He dumped him unceremoniously in the chair, Reyda tying him in securely so he had no way to leave. Not that he did anyways, with two trained assassins in the house and a loyal housecarl, but it fed to the futility of an escape attempt.
Svana climbed the ingredient shelf and reclined lazily on top of it. She laughed to herself, remembering how Astrid did the very same thing in the abandoned shack, after Svana had killed the cruel headmistress of Honorhall Orphanage. The assassin scowled. Grelod had brought it upon herself by abusing those poor children. Svana wished she could have tortured the hag first. Her quick death was far too kind. Svana was little more than a murderer then; she couldn't even call herself an assassin. The kill was too sloppy. Shaking herself out of her reverie, Svana motioned for Reyda and Calder to leave. Doing so, they closed the panel. Svana waited for the out-cold thief to wake up. Three years ago, she wouldn't have had the patience to wait. After years of having to sit around for her targets to be in the prime placement for assassination, she had developed a very strong endurance. Seeing the man stir, she steeled herself for having to interrogate – and possibly threaten – someone she once called a friend.
Astrid would have been proud of what she said next, if the woman were still alive.
"Sleep well?"
Brynjolf knew that he could die at any given moment; he was completely at the mercy of the murderer behind him. He gathered the nerve to ask a question.
"Why haven't you killed me yet?"
"No one has prayed for your death, and you are no threat to me."
There was a pregnant pause before he asked instead, "What do you plan to do with me then, lass?"
She exhaled, thinking. "I can't leave you here with Calder, nor can I stay here until I decide what to do with you." Pausing, she sighed. "You're coming with me until I figure something out."
Brynjolf let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Through some stroke of luck, he had managed to get some more time to work out a way to escape the assassin.
The murderer walked around to the front of Brynjolf's chair, and stared at his face for a few moments. Brynjolf began to wonder if she had changed her mind, and was going to kill him after all. His heartbeat quickened yet again.
"Don't think you can escape, thief." Her gloved hand cupped his face and softly caressed his cheek. "If you even try," she roughly pinched his cheek, "I will find you, and you will regret playing upon my mercy. That's not a threat; it's a promise." He nodded rapidly and she released his face. Knocking three times upon a wooden panel, it slid open, another assassin joining them. 'Great, I have to escape two of them now. This day just gets better and better.'
"Reyda. I need to speak to you alone." The other assassin nodded, Brynjolf's captor stepping outside of the small room and closing the door back. All Brynjolf could do was wait.
Svana removed her mask, motioning for her companion to do the same. She took Reyda's gloved hand in her own, and began to speak.
"Reyda, I don't want to say more than necessary, but this man was an old friend of mine, from before the Brotherhood." The Initiate's eyes widened and she nodded to her friend. The Listener never spoke about her past before she became an assassin. "I don't want to kill him, but I haven't decided what I do want to do with him yet. So for now, he's going with us on our journeys." Svana sighed. "If he tries to run, we won't have much choice. He's not a stupid man though, we're assassins from the Brotherhood; he knows the Brotherhood doesn't hesitate to strike down fleeing captives. If Brynjolf values his life, he won't run."
"Of course, Mistress."
Svana smiled at her protégé, before exclaiming, "Oh!" She shook her head. "I don't want you to call me mistress or Listener while we have the thief with us." Reyda looked at the Listener quizzically. "I don't want him to know more about me than he already does, though it's inevitable that he finds out more. I just don't want him to recognize me."
"But mistress Svana, what should I call you, then? Surely he remembers your name, if you knew him before."
Scrunching up her face in thought, Svana had an idea. She grinned. "You may call me Kirsta."
A/N: I decided to put this chapter up early in the hopes it would help interest some more people. The story may not be your cup of tea, and that's okay, but I would definitely like to get some more people interested!
Reviews are welcome! I want to know what you guys like and dislike about this story so I have an idea of how to do future chapters.
Thank you so much to everyone for reading!
