CHAPTER FOUR: I WILL COME BACK
The road back to Riften seemed to drag on for what felt like a week. Sattilde's thoughts were preoccupied with what she would tell Brynjolf, and whether or not she should reveal her ability to use the thu'um.
She returned back home no later than the late evening as she had taken the journey very slowly. She had hoped to stay in Whiterun for a little while, maybe browse the market for new equipment or elixirs. She was disappointed that her time away from Riften only lasted two days. Sattilde found her way into the Bee and the Barb, back up the stairs where Maven would surely be awaiting her arrival.
When she turned the corner, she found Maven curiously scanning a letter in her hand. Her face scrunched into a very confused frown.
"I did as you asked." Sattilde interrupted Maven's deep thought.
"Ah, Sattilde, yes. Mallus told me you did the job and you did it well." She waved the letter in Sattilde's direction, "Mallus had this sent over by courier. It just arrived."
"What is it?" Sattilde stood up on her tippy toes a little as to look over the edge of the parchment and catch a glimpse of the words inside.
"It appears to be a promissory note." Maven handed the letter over to Sattilde.
Sabjorn,
Within the enclosed crate, you'll find the final payment. As we discussed, Honningbrew Meadery should now begin brewing mead at full production. In regards to your concerns about interference from Maven Black-Briar, I can assure you that I'll do everything in my power to keep her assets and her cronies at bay. This is the beginning of a long and successful future for both of us.
"This doesn't tell me much," Maven took a seat at the chair behind her against the wall,
"The only thing that could identify Sabjorn's partner is the odd little symbol at the top."
The odd dagger had appeared once more, "I've seen this symbol before." Sattilde handed the letter back to Maven.
"Well, whoever this mysterious marking represents, they'll regret starting a war with me." She reached into the deep pockets of her silk robe, revealing a hefty coin pouch. "I think you'll find this more than adequate for your services." Sattilde had to use both hands, the pouch was so large. 500 gold coins richer, Sattilde figured the job was well worth it after all, even if she didn't get to relax much.
"Thank you, Maven." She plopped the coins into her bag.
"I would take this information to your guild immediately. Now, shoo." she waved her hand, dismissing Sattilde from her presence.
Sattilde waited until she had exited the inn to reveal a pearly white smile spread across her face. Sometimes the jobs didn't pay as well, but whenever she had a job from Maven, it was always enough to buy a new set of daggers, or a few potions. She let out a satisfied sigh and almost skipped back to the Thieves Guild's secret entrance.
When she climbed down the ladder to the cistern, she found most of the members huddled together in the center of the room. All seemed to be discussing something interesting, heads turned back and forth between each other, acknowledging other ideas and viewpoints.
She approached the mass, "Hey..." she said in a soft voice, but no one heard her, "Hey." she said louder and a couple of members looked back at her.
"Welcome back, Sattilde!" Brynjolf waved from across the circle. "Have you heard?"
"Heard what?" Sattilde was thoroughly curious at this point.
"The rumor of the dragons!" Vipir the Fleet announced.
"They say the Dragonborn has returned!" Thrynn said.
"Yes, and they also said I sprouted wings and I'm able to fly." Vex clearly skeptical of the news put Sattilde at ease. Sattilde didn't understand why people had to make such a big fuss over this; it wasn't anything special, at least, to her, it shouldn't have been an ordeal.
"You don't believe anything though." Rune said.
"And for a very good reason too." Vex huffed.
"I heard the same thing from Wilhelm in Ivarstead." Elara chimed in.
"See? It's not just in Riften. The news has spread far and wide." Rune said, Thrynn, Vipir, and the others nodding along.
"That still doesn't make it true." Vex reminded them. "I could just as easily spread the rumor that I'm Tiber Septim reincarnate, but that doesn't make it so, even if it spread as far as Elsweyr."
There were some grumbles and then the group dispersed. Brynjolf waited until the others had left to approach Sattilde with a grin wider than Skyrim itself. "How was the trip?"
Sattilde pulled her lips to one side of her face, "Quite disappointing..."
"I'm sorry to hear that, lass. Whiterun is usually more inviting." Brynjolf seemed to share her disappointment.
"It wasn't Whiterun, it was just..." Sattilde stopped herself. She looked around at the members that were lingering around the cistern, reading, training, fixing equipment. This wouldn't be a good place to reveal her secret. She changed the subject in her mind, "It was just I found more interesting news from the meadery. That symbol showed up again, on a note to Sabjorn, talking about paying him for running the meadery."
Brynjolf's eyebrows came together as he tried to piece the information together in his head, "This is beyond coincidence then. Someone is trying to drive a wedge between Maven and the Guild. While you were away, Mercer thinks he found a way to identify this symbol."
They started over to Mercer's desk where he sat, thumbing through a text.
"I told him we should wait until you return to investigate it further, just in case. We don't want to waste Guild resources after all." They stopped right before they stepped onto the walkway, "Listen. I've never seen him this angry before, so... tread lightly, and don't waste his time."
Mercer looked up from his book, "Ah! There you are, Sattilde. Neither mine nor Brynjolf's contacts can identify the symbol found at Goldenglow Estate."
"The same symbol turned up at Honningbrew as well."
Mercer put two and two together, placing an index finger against his chin, "Then it would seem our adversary is attempting to take us apart indirectly by angering Maven." then added under his breath, "Very clever..."
"You admire them?" Sattilde never found it easy to impress Mercer Frey, of all people.
"They're well-funded and they've been able to avoid identification for years. I'm impressed it reached this point. But don't mistake my admiration for complacency; our nemesis is going to pay dearly." he snarled.
"You've had run-ins with this anonymous buyer before?" Sattilde asked.
"Yes, and after all their posturing and planning, they've made a mistake. The parchment you recovered from Goldenglow mentioned a 'Gajul-Lei' and according to one of my sources, that's an old alias used by one of our contacts. His real name is Gulum-Ei. Slimy Argonian." he spat.
"And where can I find him?" Sattilde did as Brynjolf suggested and cut to the chase.
"He's our inside man at the East Empire Company in Solitude. I'm betting he acted as a go-between for the sale of Goldenglow and he can locate our mystery buyer. Get out there," Mercer pointed to the ladder, "shake him down, and see what you can come up with."
"I'll get it done." Sattilde assured.
"Good." Mercer returned to his book. Brynjolf and Sattilde crossed over the cistern to the living quarters. Neither one of them spoke; Sattilde's mind still clouded from the dragons, Brynjolf's clouded with the fate of the guild.
"Brynjolf-"
"Sattilde-" they both started.
"Go ahead, lass." Brynjolf smiled as they both took a seat on one of the beds.
"No, you. I insist." She offered.
"I just..." Brynjolf rubbed the back of his head, "I don't know what's going to become of the guild. After our talk, before you left, it left me thinking about it. A couple of members have left again and..." he sighed and his voice cracked, "I don't want to see the family broken up."
Sattilde squeezed her eyes shut, hoping it would keep the tears at bay, "I don't either."
She gazed out at the wide, square room, walls of dusty grey bricks. Beds of hay, lined the walls, all the way around the room, chests at the foot of each one to hold each thief's treasure. The room was well lit with sconces on each wall, flickering in the draft of the cistern. She couldn't bear the thought of them remaining empty forever.
"Whoever is doing this to the guild, I want to see them behind bars." Brynjolf said, "I want to frame them for the most infamous theft in Tamriel's history and see them rot." Brynjolf sounded angry; an emotion Sattilde rarely saw in him.
"Well, maybe just Skyrim. I think the largest theft in Tamriel should go to someone who deserves it." She joked, nudging Brynjolf as she did. His scowl took a minute to fade, but finally grinned back at her.
"You're right." Brynjolf sighed, then he laughed under his breath, "That person will probably be you."
At first, this flattered Sattilde, as she had improved greatly since joining the guild, but the feeling faded rather quickly. Her duty as Dragonborn would surely pull her away from her dream of being the best thief in the world (right after Vex, that is).
She sighed and looked at Brynjolf. She knew she could tell him anything. She could pour her heart out and he would listen to each word she had to say.
"Bryn..." She leaned over her thighs, rubbing her left hand with her right, "something happened in Whiterun."
Brynjolf shifted on the bed, becoming uneasy in anticipation, "Oh?"
"The dragon everyone is talking about..." she hesitated, "I saw it."
Brynjolf turned to her, "You saw it?" he didn't seem excited by the news, but concerned.
"Yes, it flew right over me. I thought it would grab me." She suddenly empathized with the guard who had come from the watchtower in Whiterun. "I, I couldn't just leave them, Bryn!" She gestured with her hands, as if the people of Whiterun were in the room. "I had to do something!"
Brynjolf nodded, waiting until she finished her tale.
"I told the Jarl and then..." it was the first time she described what happened, in detail, out loud. "A different dragon, a brown dragon. It attacked the watchtower outside of Whiterun. They wanted me to help kill it."
Brynjolf's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak.
"I know! I know!" She didn't allow him to say his piece, "But it turned out okay! Look!" she patted her body, "I'm alive. I'm okay!" She reassured him and he relaxed a little.
"When the dragon died..." she scanned the room, then got up and checked the doorway. No one was nearby, so she returned to her seat next to Brynjolf, "When the dragon died, I absorbed some kind of power from it."
Brynjolf jumped up from the bed at this, "You're-" he shouted.
"Shhh!" She jumped up, gesturing for him to lower his voice, then grabbing both of his arms, "Please, I don't want anyone else to know yet." She looked behind him, but still no one was there. "But yes... I am."
"By the Nine!" Brynjolf removed an arm from her grip and placed a sweaty hand on his forehead, a few strands of hair flowing between his fingers. "I... I need a moment to process this."
"You're telling me." Sattilde returned to the bed once again. She brought her legs to her chest and leaned against the wall. She crossed her arms over the top of her head, watching as Brynjolf paced in front of her.
He finally stopped and looked at her for a moment, "What are you going to do?" he asked.
"The Jarl suggested I take the 7,000 Steps to High Hrothgar. Speak with the Greybeards."
Brynjolf stared at the floor for a minute and then slowly sat beside her again on the bed, "Right now isn't a good time for you to be running off and leaving your guild jobs unfinished."
Sattilde pushed her palms against her face, "I know." she groaned, muffled by her hands.
"Let's at least resolve this guild matter first, and then we can talk about..." he glanced at the doorway and in a hushed tone added, "this Dragonborn business."
"I agree."
They sat in silence for a bit and then Sattilde turned to him, "Bryn... you'll come with me, won't you?"
Brynjolf smiled, not showing any teeth, but his cheeks turned red and she could see he was genuinely glad she wanted him to join her.
"I wouldn't let you go on some big, life-altering adventure on your own, lass."
Sattilde returned the smile and flung her arms around the back of his neck, squeezing him close to her body, "Thank you."
Brynjolf placed his arms across her back, bringing her in closer to him.
Sattilde felt she hadn't slept much in the past three days, and here she was, setting off again, on an even longer path. She was replenishing the food in her bag when Brynjolf came in the room; his face was somber, clearly upset that she was leaving so soon.
"Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you, lass?" He pleaded.
"I'm sure, Bryn. This job will be easy."
He pursed his lips, "I know, but..."
She could tell he was worried for her safety. This journey would take longer and she knew that left more time for him to fear for her life. She walked over to the mentor who had watched her improve in the years, provided her with sound counsel, and sage advice. She placed a loving hand on his arm, which he in turn, grabbed with his right hand.
"Please... don't stay away for too long." He tried to smile, but instead started to tear up.
"I promise." She hugged him, tighter than she had the night before.
"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep." he returned the hug. She could tell in his voice that he had started to cry.
"I'll be okay." She was unsure of this response. The road was much more dangerous than they had both previously assumed. "I'll be okay." She repeated, trying to will the words to truth. Then pried herself free from his embrace.
He remained holding her arms in his hands, "You come home." She saw the tears trickling down his cheek.
She nodded and then turned and grabbed her leather pack. She took in a long breath and then sighed, "I must be off then!" She weakly smiled. Brynjolf wiped his face and led her to the ladder leading out of the guild and pulled the lever for her. Before she climbed up, he grabbed her once more and placed a lingering kiss upon her cheek and she responded with a hand over the side of his face, wishing the moment wouldn't end.
"Return to me." he whispered. She nodded, and feeling a knot in her throat and her stomach twist, she climbed the ladder to Riften. After the tunnel shut, she let a few tears fall. She brushed them away quickly, sniffled a bit, and after a bracing puff of air, she set out the same way she had arrived.