Just FYI, this is also posted on my ArchiveOfOurOwn account too. Same name, same story. Enjoy. And don't forget to comment please.


Brynjolf's sleep was uneasy and shallow, a deep inhale the signal his body naturally gave sometimes seconds before the stillness broke like the flick of a fish's tail against the surface of a quiet lake.

Green eyes would flutter open, he'd heave a sigh, adjust his position, and fall back to sleep.

Some people just didn't sleep well, whether their consciousness was clear or tainted.

She had not managed a proper deep sleep since the reality of her situation had set in some days after she had begun the basic footwork for her task in the Pale, every dream invaded with the choke of smoke and searching, searching for anyone alone in the ash-streaked darkness.

And she always woke up with the sensation of a shroud of cobwebs clinging to her face.

Insulting Daedric Lords was risky business as every logical person well knew and despite that, she willfully did so as the opportunities presented themselves. Five of the seventeen was quite an achievement and she boasted four proud trophies as the result, but it seemed that in claiming the prize of her first teacher's Queen, she had tested her luck too much.

Reignhart liked to think that she got the last laugh though with a certain blackened corpse rendered to shards.

She would be indentured to no one, not Mehrunes Dagon, not Namira, not Molag Bal, not Boethiah, and certainly not Mephala either.

No one would have her.

She wouldn't let them.

Resting her eyes, she listened to the wind that whistled through the cracks and the birds as they called, a pair of lonely crickets somewhere dark and cold and Brynjolf, remaining silent and still for hours until the temperature began to drop and then came the sound of her company's heaving sigh, a shift, and a slow groan that usually accompanied sitting up from a stiff sleeping position.

Above curled knees and through the fine curtain of her hair, she watched the red-haired Nord carefully arch his back, arms stretched above his head briefly before giving his neck a quiet crack.

And then he seemed to be ready.

"Lass?"

Silently, she propped her chin upon her knees and let her steady gaze meet his, the man letting out a breath of amusement.

"Well then, I suppose we should get going."

Without hesitation, they did.

Side by side, they scaled down the mountain of Cragpeak and she maintained a polite distance from the home of a Breton who deeply reeked like troll musk while Brynjolf fetched his horse, gifting the man with her rabbit's entrails that he could use as good fishing bait, and once he returned with a handsome chestnut-colored creature who skirted uneasily when she called for Shadowmere, and raced fearfully ahead of her black friend's powerful strides.

By the time they reached Riften, the stallion's great chest was heaving powerfully from the pace.

Although the stablemaster was irritable over the hour Brynjolf had woken him at, all it took was one look at Shadowmere for the man to give an impressed whistle. "Quite a beast you have there," Hofgrir Stable-Crusher commented, all sleepy annoyance handwaved to get a closer look.

"Thank you. He was a gift," she stated, stroking the beast's muzzle as she told the creature firmly, "behave."

Reignhart fell into pace behind Brynjolf as they entered the city, her expression fixed with disinterest as he lead her through the thick mist, a single thief glancing her over like a meal and all she had to do was merely cock a brow, tilt her head at the redhead's back, and that was all it took to ensure a clean retreat before they descended to the water's edge.

The rumored city beneath the city was just as decrepit and unimpressive as she last recalled from her errand to have Amaund Motierre's down payment appraised, but progress usually ran slow in outfits that were having as deep a delve into the mallory as Astrid suggested they were, starting some twenty-five years previous with the murder of the Guildmaster.

The sight of Delvin leaning against the bar of the Flagon as he spoke with the Imperial bouncer filled her with a strange flutter in her stomach, something hollow yet hopeful, and for a moment she only watched until the gruff Imperial's eyes rested on her too long and Delvin curiously glanced over his shoulder.

"Rain," he murmured, eyes growing wide with surprise.

"Hi, Delvin."

He didn't seem to know what to say, at a complete loss for words under her very presence and then he gave a subtle shake of his head, a scoff, and finally settled with, "get over here, girl."

All eyes in the Flagon were on her.

And they watched her take three narrow steps forward and allowed Delvin Mallory to tug her into an almost fearfully tight embrace, and though she did not return the hug, she allowed herself to relax under the contact, eye closing and for long moments, she leaned against his larger body.

There was a life they both had once known and now the only fractured remains that were left could be found in each other.

Such little comforts would have to be enough.

A deep inhale and it was slowly let out before Delvin relaxed his hold.

A long moment of silence as he just looked at her.

And then frowned.

"Where in Oblivion have you been?"

Ah, there it was.

And she couldn't help the tiny smile that curved on her lips at his angry concern.

"Dawnstar."

Delvin's scowl grew fierce and she cut him off before he could scold her for loitering in the very Hold where the enemy of her clan was in a seat of power and could easily order a manhunt for her if he knew she was there, "I have not been without an exercise of caution, Delvin. Not after what just happened."

He studied her for several long moments and then relented with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sometimes I forget you've been doing this for a while."

"The concern is appreciate nonetheless, friend."

A huff, and he motioned to a table. "Go ahead and sit. I'll get us a drink and you can fill me in on your mischief."

Brynjolf chuckled, shaking his head, somehow satisfied in witnessing the encounter, and then he removed himself from the Flagon. He had business elsewhere no doubt.

He wasn't the only one.

No longer dubbing her the most interesting thing in the Flagon, the other occupants of the space turned their attention to other things and after Delvin presented her with a bottle of good Sujamma, the two sat down together to talk.

They talked about lighter things, what had occurred since they last spoke, about the contract that jeweled amulet had been for and how they had managed all of two parts of it before that crazy bastard Cicero tried killing Astrid. She sent the Listener after him, and she sent Reignhart after Nolas. Astrid didn't trust him after the last fumble, and she had reason to not trust him yet again when the Imperial let Cicero live. Reignhart made certain that the job got done though, and when Nolas lied to Astrid, she called him out on it, with proof of Cicero's head in tow.

That was when the Penitus Oculatus caught them with their pants down.

They had broken down the black door and flooded in, overwhelming Veezara in the front room, Arnbjorn in the main hall, and Gabriella in the crafters den with sheer numbers while they set the place to flames. She, Nolas, and Nazir got pinned together in the dining room against the intruders, and that was what saved them, until an explosion took out a couple main supports and the sanctuary began to collapse in on itself.

Nolas was caught up in the debris and didn't make it past the sleeping quarters.

They ran into Babette in the Night Mother's chamber where the flames blocked off all options of escape with the exception of the Window of Sithis that stood behind the iron coffin and when she cut down the crone's dusty corpse so it could be light enough for she and Nazir to push it through the window, the room came down on their head and she was knocked into the coffin.

Given where she regained consciousness, it was safe to say that the collapse knocked the coffin through the window and it settled upside-down behind the shelter of the waterfall.

By the time she escaped from the iron tomb, all that was left of the Sanctuary was ash and ruin.

"And Astrid?" Delvin asked.

"Burned to death."

Her voice had remained even the entire time she shared the tale.

He slouched against the table, scouring a hand over his shaved head and shook his head. "Damn."

"Your man showed up in time to keep me from incidentally burying myself while trying to gather everyone."

He sighed. "Good timing then. Otherwise I would have lost you too."

Reignhart gazed at him for a long moment before her eyes shifted to the rest of the Flagon while she took a swallow of Sujamma, deciding what next to say.

Finally, she settled with the recent proposal that was a safe enough topic to change to.

"It was suggested that there might be work available for me among the Guild."

He gazed at her and nodded, "Yeah, I think I can find something for you but are you planning on sticking around or looking for fast coin?"

"You know I like sticking with a system."

That made Delvin finally quirk a smile after her grim story.

"Well then. Let me have a chat with Mercer first and I'll see what I can give you."

Mercer Frey.

She had seen him only in small glimpses in the past and the grim and shaggy Breton had given her the same gut feeling as Cicero did; that he was not to be trusted.

Delvin told her to sit tight and then disappeared down the same way Brynjolf had, leaving the small Nord assassin with two Imperials, a Redguard, and one other Nord.

She finished her Sujamma in the time it took for him to come back.

"I think I've got something you might like."