Fyren hated water. She hated it with a fiery burning passion, but when she decided that it would be easier to cross the lake to get to the island that Goldenglow Estate was housed on, she knew that it would save her a lot of time. Saying a silent prayer to the Divines, asking politely that they prevent her from drowning, she slowly began to swim towards the soft lights that she could clearly see in the middle of the lake. That had to be the island.

The cold water dampened her skin, and she knew that she was going to get an armor rash on the insides of her thighs, but the thought of the gold that she'd been promised by Brynjolf himself made her want to complete the job even more quickly. She took a deep breath and found her foot on the shallows that had formed around the island.

Sneaking past the mercenaries was no task for her, but the locks were a different story. She'd just gotten to the front door, and was frantically trying to pick the lock when she heard one of the stupid, large, lumbering mercenaries say, "Something smells like a wet dog…"

I'm a cat, smart-arse, Fyren thought, her steely gaze momentarily directed to the bear-like mercenary. She'd almost gotten the lock picked when she felt something brush against the fur of her arm. She turned to see the mercenary staring confusedly at her, his beady eyes trying to comprehend the scene before him.

Yeah. I'm trying to break in. What're you going to do about it, you big bear?

Almost as if in response to Fyren's thoughts, the mercenary reared back his left hand, which held a steel mace, and swung towards the Khajiit's fragile, feline head. She let out frightened gasp and ducked just in time, managing to knife him with her dagger before he could alert others of her presence. The knife hit him in just the right place so that he was too startled to let out a cry. She quickly slit his throat, and watched him choke on his own blood. Serves the stupid grizzly right, she thought to herself, sneering at the man's lifeless body.

Fyren opened the front door of Goldenglow Estate and ducked quietly inside without another word. The mercenaries there were on edge, pacing around and cutting corners. Some of them even bumped into her, so she was forced to silence them forever. She almost felt sorry for the poor lads. They'd just wanted extra gold, like her, and signed up for a job. And now they were dead.

She shook the sympathetic thoughts off. It was their own damn fault that they were dead. They tried to kill her, so she just killed them to save herself. No mercy for them. No sympathy.

When Fyren returned to Brynjolf, she found Eryx sitting by his side. She'd met Eryx shortly before she'd headed out on her mission, and so far, he seemed like an agreeable man, but Fyren felt as if he was hiding something from everyone. She just decided the moment that she met him that she'd keep her curious kitty nose out of his business.

Eryx was a tall Nord man, and he even towered above most elves. His hair was as dark as night, and his eyes were such a light blue that at first glance, Fyren had thought they were white. He'd flat-out told Fyren that when he had to pull out the arrow in her side, that most of her armor was ruined, so he asked Brynjolf if she could receive the guild's armor early. Brynjolf had agreed, and, while the armor benefitted her greatly, it wasn't waterproof.

Fyren's waterlogged boots made squishing noises as she stepped forward, so it was expected that she would be noticed right away. Brynjolf and Eryx turned their heads in her way almost simultaneously.

"I burned the beehouses, emptied the safe, and found this ratched thing. Sorry it's wet." Fyren handed Brynjolf the piece of paper. She hadn't even bothered to look at it much, but she knew that it was a certificate of sale for Goldenglow Estate, and that there was a weird symbol on the paper.

"By the Divines!" Brynjolf said, his eyes going wide.

"What?" Eryx said, struggling to get a look at the paper for himself. "Talos, Maven Black-Briar's been cheated!" His eyes widened and his expression changed to match that of Brynjolf's.

Brynjolf noticed Fyren's shaking. The poor lass must've been cold. She was sopping wet, and Skyrim's winters weren't exactly mild. His expression softened, and he turned to Eryx.

"Why don't you go show this to Mercer, Eryx?" Brynjolf handed the paper over to Eryx, who took it and nodded. He didn't want to delay the investigation. "I'm going to take the lass to the Cistern and give her some mead, try to get her warmed up. She's shivering like a horker without its blubber." Eryx walked off in search of Mercer, as he knew that the guild's leader was nowhere to be found in the Cistern, as he was told by one of the recruits who was also looking for Mercer.

Brynjolf wrapped his arm around Fyren and rubbed her shoulder with his free hand. If it weren't for the fur covering her face, her cheeks would have been visibly pink. She wasn't used to this kind of contact with men. Normally, men just said cruel words to a Khajiit- especially a female.

Once they were in the Cistern, Brynjolf said, "Get out of that armor and under the bedsheets, lass. I'll go get some wool blankets for you." He walked over to the opposite side of the Cistern and began nosing around shelves, looking for the item that he said he would retrieve.

Fyren nodded before he left and slipped out of her armor, regretting the decision when the cold air hit her skin. She stood there, stark naked, save her undergarments, for a while, sifting through a dresser beside her bed until she found the item of clothing that she'd been searching for. She slipped the silky, knee-length night gown over her furry body and kept shivering long after she'd been under the covers.

Brynjolf returned shortly afterwards, a heap of wool blankets piled in his arms. He unfolded the blankets and laid them on top of Fyren one by one, and the Khajiit's trembling ceased when the final blanket was placed over her. Brynjolf, still not satisfied, tucked the blankets all around her, and sat in a chair beside her bed.

"The last thing I need is you getting near death again," he said, smiling down at his feline friend. Fyren let out an airy laugh. "Last time, you almost died on me, and if it weren't for Eryx, you probably would've died, lass." Brynjolf looked down at his feet, hating to remember how the poor feline nearly bled to death.

"Don't worry about it. I can take care of myself, Brynjolf." She swallowed, hating to see her superior like this. "If you worry too much, you'll make yourself sick." She smiled at him, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Go to sleep, Fyren. You need to rest up for your next mission. I'll stay here until you fall asleep. Maybe even tell you some stories about the days when I was a new recruit." Brynjolf completed the sentence with a heart-filled laugh. Fyren grinned.

"Tell me about your first mission," the Khajiit said, her silvery eyes staring into Brynjolf's green ones. Brynjolf visibly contemplated, and then agreed.

"Alright, lass, let me think about this for a little while. It's been a long time since Mercer sent me on my first mission," Brynjolf said, cupping his chin in his hands. "Okay. I had to go to…." The Nord launched his story off immediately, telling the tale of how he had to battle draugr and hundreds of skeevers to get his way to a crazy wood elf that had locked himself down in a crypt. He leaned over and grabbed a bottle of Black-Briar mead half-way through his tale, and downed several more, which were lined up on a shelf beside Fyren's bed.

When Brynjolf finally finished his story, he noticed that the Khajiit that had requested him to tell the tale had fallen asleep. Though he was a bit disappointed that she didn't hear him speaking of how many beasts he slayed or how he ended the crazy wood-elf's life to get an important document, he was glad that she had fallen asleep. She really did need to rest.

Getting up from his chair, Brynjolf, seemingly in his right mind, did something unexpected; he leaned over the Khajiit, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Sleep tight, lass," he said into her fur. Brynjolf, green eyes alight, walked away from the section of the Cistern where Fyren was sleeping, and ventured off to find Eryx.

Fyren didn't stir a bit, but the corners of her lips curled upwards into the ghost of a smile in her sleep.

***Thankyou to everyone who put this story on their favorites, and to those who reviewed. I hope that you are enjoying this so far, as I know that I am. Sometimes I pretend to replace myself with Fyren, and I even find myself blushing when I write this story sometimes. I wish that someone would call me lass… My life is so Brynjolf-less, but that's why I write for those who are willing to read and appreciate my work. My chapters keep getting longer and longer… o.o