Isobel wheezed in the corner of her prison cell, trying not to focus on the pain that still ripped her throat with each breath. After ensuring her injuries weren't fatal the Riften guard shackled her hands behind her back to prevent her from using magic, and precariously threw her into the darkness.
She didn't know where Vipir was and that made her sick with worry, she at least wanted the peace of mind that he was safe and that his chest wasn't completely destroyed. Guilt poured over her like a frozen sleet every time she realized how much danger she had put Vipir in. Not only was Maven and Maul out for him now, but Mercer had to have found out of their rendezvous.
'What have I done?' The question tormented Isobel all day. 'The whole Guild must know by now.'
'Including Brynjolf...'
Maul was fine, in the grand scheme of things. His eye was completely destroyed but her pick didn't hit his brain, and a Priestess of Mara had already sealed up his socket and given him the eye patch he'd wear for the rest of his life. Saying Maven was furious was an understatement, the harsh woman had visited Isobel that morning, her usual smoky voice now blazing.
"To imagine I thought you the redeemer of the Guild." Her words hissed and crackled as Isobel rested her limp head on the iron bars, gazing up at her languidly. "I am granting you audience here exclusively because I wanted you to be the first informed of my resignation with the Guild. That rat hole isn't even worth the coin I pay them to scare my employees, let alone the bail for those who put lockpicks into my own people."
"Maul crossed the line." Isobel's rasp was barely even audible. "Listen to me, you think he was choking me in an act of mutual pleasure? He almost killed both me and Vipir!"
"I have half a mind to just kill you myself. I'd probably be doing the Guild a favor, ridding them of such a burden."
"And I suppose you'd call upon the Dark Brotherhood for that? As if you would kill me yourself." Isobel spat fiercely, glaring at the dangerous woman. "You're a coward Maven, and you wouldn't be a quarter of the woman you are today if it weren't for the Thieves Guild."
Maven clasped the bars with her jeweled hands, her teeth clenched in a vicious snarl.
"May this be our last meeting, Imp." She growled solemnly before storming away. Isobel was too riled to feel any sort of relief.
Shackled... in the dark... indefinitely. The feeling of being trapped seemed to press down on her the more the day went on, making her feel claustrophobic and restless. Isobel was slowly realizing she had nowhere to go.
She couldn't return to Cyrodiil, even though it had been four months since she fled to Skyrim she wasn't going to risk going back if the Gray Fox hadn't summoned her, she doubted those seeking her would have given up by then. Now Isobel couldn't return to the Guild in the sewers beneath her. And even though she was in trouble with a family as violent as the Black-Briars, Skyrim law and a major crime organization, she couldn't leave Riften... not without missing Gray Fox's summons. She very well might have to spend the rest of her time in Skyrim, the province she originally sought sanctuary in, in prison.
How she ached to speak to anyone from the Guild, explain to them what happened. Especially Brynjolf.
Every time she heard footsteps her head turned in excruciating pain to see flaming hair framing the strong Nordic features she so desperately wished to see, only for her to be disappointed as a guard patrolled by. She honesty didn't know how Brynjolf would react to the whole situation, or specifically the fact that Isobel and Vipir had fucked around... Brynjolf had rejected her, so he could hardly care if she slept with someone else. Isobel was a good sport when the Bedroom Bandit had gone after Ysolda in Whiterun, it only seemed fair if he did the same... at least, she hoped.
Regardless, the mere idea of Vipir helping her figure things out instead of trying to fuck or drink the situation away did seem appealing, and Isobel started to feel that maybe, possibly, she could work things out with everyone... maybe.
Vipir also said Isobel was "in love" with Brynjolf, and the notion filled her with such a barrage of emotions it was difficult trying to untangle and differentiate them. She loved lots of people but had never been in love, and she never felt the desire to tie herself down to any one person before. Simply testing the waters of such a foreign concept made her feel a fear and anger as if she was at risk at destroying her entire identity... That she would no longer be Isobel Woodwing, the minxy and mischievous free bird, if she took on the chains and tethers of an actual relationship.
But... there was a tiny spark in her that was excited. That kept nudging her incessantly every time she tried to be logical and told herself it would be pointless falling in love with the Nord she would leave behind once her home was safe, and that all chances they might of had she demolished in the last twenty-four hours anyway. It all put an anxiety and panic in her she'd never felt before, like something was slipping through her fingers that wasn't as replaceable as a coffer of septims or a highly profitable business deal.
She leaned her forehead against the cold iron bars, peering down the hall of cells curiously until she saw a familiar face in the shadows. It was Brand-Shei, his Dunmeri features hallowed and gaunt as he picked at a loaf of bread. He was definitely skinnier, and his movements were slow as his long fingers tore apart the stale bread. Isobel watched him for awhile, feeling the same lack of remorse she had for every other one of her victims, on the contrary she found herself fondly reminiscing about her and Brynjolf's first meeting in the marketplace.
"Psst!"
Isobel looked around for the source of the sound, and found it in the cell right beside her.
"You're from the Guild?" The male voice asked. Isobel pressed her face against the bars as much as she could but she still wasn't able to see into the cell next to her. "Brynjolf leave you in here like me?" Isobel's heart stopped at the name, her intrigue for the faceless voice increasing thousandfold.
"Yes." Isobel croaked. "You know Brynjolf?"
"Aye... big, bad Brynjolf... didn't like the way I play thief so he chucked me in here."
"What do you mean?" Isobel tried to make sure her delicate throat didn't give out during what she knew would be an interesting conversation.
"Look, he says he needed coin, so I got coin. Who cares if people got hurt? Blood washes off septims... Now I'm sitting in here counting skeever droppings for another four bloody years while he's drinking Black-Briar mead with Maven." Isobel very well understood the reason of the man's captivity, killing targets was a major rule breaker in almost every Guild she'd heard of. No wonder Brynjolf left him in here.
"Well, in case you didn't hear Maven chew me out this morning, she's no longer a client. So something tells me the two won't be sharing mead for awhile now."
"Oh yeah, I did hear that." The man sniggered delightfully. "Talking to Maven like that... You're just fearless, aren't you? Or stupid... No wonder Brynjolf left you. Well, you and your boy-toy upstairs."
"Piss off." Isobel hissed. She didn't need some petty murderer telling her she fucked up, by the gods she knew it well enough already.
"Hah!" He scoffed. "Things sure are different from when I was in the Guild. Two whelps take a turn in the sheets and no one would bat an eye, Brynjolf most of all. Hell, he didn't even care when I was fooling around with Vex during their little fling." Isobel eyes widened as she listened intently, ravenous for more pieces of Brynjolf's puzzle to be given to her.
"How long ago was this?"
"Bah, fifteen years ago or so." The voice grunted. "Vex... what a fox. Never heard of a man in that Guild that didn't have the hots for her, boy. Bloody Delvin's attempts at wooing her were the greatest form of entertainment we had back then!" He laughed as Isobel tried comprehending the friendly and wise Delvin pursuing the icy Vex.
"Was she always such a frigid bitch?"
"In her own way I suppose." He sighed. "I like to think she had a special spot for me though, she saved my life once after all. It's how I got my name, Molgrom Twice-Killed!"
"Twice-Killed?"
"Aye. Got into a scrap when I was still a free man at the Ragged Flagon. Some idiot named Fa'ir stole himself a guard's sword and kept boasting about it. He's making too much racket and I'm trying to get Vex drunk so I tell him to keep it down and he just runs me right through! After Vex tore the guy to bloody pieces, she gave me a potion. If she hadn't of been there... " Molgrom trailed off, leaving Isobel reeling at the idea of Vex fighting for and healing someone. Had the seniors really changed that much during the hard times within the Guild? "Well, anyway, after I got back to the Guild, I decided to start calling myself Twice-Killed."
"But you weren't killed. Not even once." Isobel's voice cracked, she wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to talk.
"Yeah, but Twice-Killed has more of a ring to it!" Molgrom shouted defensively. "Besides, after that incident little Vexy and I would bed anywhere and everywhere..."
Isobel continued to listen to Molgrom's descriptive and rather vulgar retellings of various nights with the senior thief, occasionally she tried to bait the conversation back to Brynjolf, but with no success. Eventually she couldn't bear to even pretend to listen and resorted to watching Brand-Shei sleep in his blanketless cot.
With the extinguishing of the ward's torch lights for the night, Isobel felt her own small hope for freedom become extinguished. No one was coming for her. No surprise there. But she couldn't stand prison, the shame and humiliation of being a professional criminal behind bars was more than she could tolerate. And by the gods she was a professional, so she had to do what any professional would.
So Isobel forced to herself to start gagging, making as sickly, loud retches as she possibly could. When the guards ignored her she upped her theatrics, throwing in cries and sobs as she thrashed on the ground like one possessed by a Daedra. It wasn't too long until her chokes became genuine as her vocal chords tore themselves apart, even Molgrom started yelling at her to shut up.
"What is wrong with you, woman?" A guard stomped over indignantly, before becoming startled at Isobel's wild form on the prison floor. Cautiously he tried to get a closer look, still keeping to his side of the iron bars.
Isobel thought of playing her flute, that precious instrument that drew forth the most beautiful feelings of nostalgia, and quickly jerked so her hand brushed the guard's boot through the bars. He was easy, she could see his tension slouch the moment she touched him.
"Hey there, friend." Isobel grinned tearfully up from the filthy ground, swallowing the last of her coughs. "How's your patrol going?"
"Oh, y'know, damn boring." The Nord mused, speaking as with an old comrade. "Cousins out fighting dragons, and what do I get? Guard duty."
"Oh I could tell you a thing or two about boredom from in here." Isobel quipped, eliciting a few chuckles from the guard. "Say, how about you unshackle me and I can show you a few card tricks? It wouldn't harm anyone if we kept each other entertained, right?"
The guard obliged without a worry, entering Isobel's cell and unlocking her manacles. The very moment the cuffs were off her wrists Isobel sprang to her feet, shackling the guard in turn to the bars of her cell.
"My friend Vipir, where is he?" Isobel further instilled arcane calmness into the man as she interrogated him, pushing him further into blissful serenity and numbing his mind to any cause for alarm.
"He's in a separate ward upstairs."
"And my belongings?" Isobel made to tear off the guard's boot, revealing a socking foot so foul of odor it made her gag.
"In the office near the entrance. If they haven't sold it off yet and-" The rest of the sentence was muffled by Isobel shoving his sock as far into his mouth as possible.
"Hey! Somebody's breaking out in here! Come quick!"
Brand-Shei was hollering from his cell, of course he'd be a fucking snitch. Isobel whipped the guard's sword from its sheathe, leaving him to hum to himself and instead approaching the Dunmer with her weapon. All she had to do was lock bloodshot eyes with Brand-Shei, making sure he saw the sword in her one hand and the prison keys in the other, and he backed down humbly.
"Go! Get out of here! Before more come back!" Molgrom hissed from his own cot. And Isobel obeyed.
Now she had to hurry before things got out of control.
Isobel raced to the second of the dungeon, quickly casting illusion on the two guards she had to pass. She only hoped she had enough time to tell Vipir was she needed to say. Finally, she found his cell.
"Vipir!" She gasped, her friend calling her name in return as they clasped each other's hands through the bars, ignoring the scoffs and whistles from the other prisoners. Isobel couldn't hold back her tears. Vipir looked so awful, with dark, tired eyes and his topless torso shaking in the cold and horrifically bruised. He seemed to be appalled by her appearance too.
"Hey now, Issy. No need to cry." He whispered, wiping her tears. "You did nothing wrong-"
"Yes I did! The Guild is in trouble because of me, and you're in danger because of me! I-I-"
"Issy, you saved my life." Vipir said sternly. "Maul would've killed me and raped you. How can you feel guilty for defending us?"
"It was my fault, I shouldn't have told him I'd sleep with him for info-"
"Isobel, shut up!" Vipir snapped. "Maul knew that offer was void long ago! He was wrong!" Isobel's mouth gaped open and shut, struggling to form words as she grimaced.
"I can't break you out of here..." She whispered after a pause. Vipir looked at her in disbelief.
"Why?" He asked incredibly.
"Because you're safe in here." Isobel sniffed loudly. "I'll get Tabitha or Hans to smuggle you healing potions, but you can't go back to the cistern for awhile. I have no idea how the Guild is going to respond, I need to take the heat for this."
"Are you out of your bloody mind, Issy?" Vipir hissed. "Why are you-"
"Because this is the kind of shit best friends do for each other." Isobel interrupted before more tears fled from her eyes. "I've had best friends killed because of me before, I can't have that happen again..." She had to remove herself from Vipir's hand to cover her sobs, Vipir not knowing what to say or how to react at her confession as she tried in vain to compose herself. "I can't go through that again. That is why I'm keeping you here. I just wanted to tell you that I'm so, so sorry, and that I'm going to take care of everything, then I'll come back for you." Vipir merely stared in shock as Isobel gave a final teary smile and turned to leave.
"Issy!" Vipir called, but Isobel shook her head as rivers rolled down her cheeks.
She wasn't going to let what happened in Cyrodiil repeat itself.