A/N: Starting to pick up steam here, slow and steady. Higher Ground will end in the next ten or so chapters!

"You have to tell the elf about this, Lilly," Elijah had said.

"Me?" she'd repeated, confused. "Why can't you come with me? He's probably going to want to take us to the jarl! You can't make me do that alone!"

"I can't go with you." He squeezed her shoulder and pushed the crumpled paper into her hand. "I'm sorry, Lilly. I just… I can't."

Lilly had been standing in the same spot for close to an hour after Elijah had left her, just fuming silently with the dead man's letter in her hand. Oh, she was going to get him good the next time she saw him.

She knew she had to tell someone about the body, give someone the letter they'd found on him. It would be easier, she considered, to just dump the thing somewhere obvious, somewhere a guard would find it. They would read it and figure out on their own to go into the excavation.

And then, Lilly thought, they'll find those spiders with Elijah's arrows still in them, and that big one all blown to Oblivion.

No. It would be better to go forward herself and tell the truth. The two of them had most certainly been seen inside the Keep heading toward the excavation before the break-in. It wouldn't be hard for anyone to piece it together. She might have been afraid, but she wasn't a coward—or a liar.

Lilly walked up the stairs further into the Keep, dragging her feet on the steps. Maybe Rory was inside, doing thane business. The jarl seemed to like involving her in the city's affairs, and even though Rory thought he was a skeever, it wasn't unusual for her to occasionally spend time sitting on his counsel.

No one was around. The Mournful Throne sat empty, and the area around was deserted of courtiers, petitioners, and even most guards. She was almost to the steps again, trying to steel herself to find Calcelmo, when a familiar deep voice called out to her.

"Hey, little lady!"

Lilly stiffened.

Leaving the kitchen area, Banner jogged to catch up with her. His hand clapped itself onto her shoulder, firmly, like he would turn her to face him if she tried to keep going. "Lilly. How are ya? Haven't seen you in a while."

Not only did she not want to talk to him, she wasn't supposed to. She looked up at his smiling face and tried to force hers to do the same. "I know, it's been a long time."

"Miss seeing you and that little boy down at the stables. He still like horses?" Banner shook his head good-naturedly. "I'd reckon even Oran and Theran miss him, and his apples." He chuckled. "He spoiled 'em good."

Trying to both hold her breath and avoid the intense way he looked down at her, she shrugged. "We've been busy."

"That's all right." Banner's hand found her shoulder again, and this time he ran it down her arm in a long, slow stroke. "Come see me again soon. I'm outside workin' every day."

Lilly felt heat crawl up her spine. He was standing far too close, touching her, and he smelled as bad as ever. All she wanted was to get away from him, maybe kick him in the shin, and tell him to leave her alone forever.

Instead, all that came out was a tiny, uncomfortable, "Okay."

"Good girl," Banner murmured, pleased. "I'm lookin' forward to it." Before he walked away, his hand returned to her shoulder and slid up under her hair to wrap around the back of her neck. His thumb brushed against the bare skin of her throat, back and forth.

Lilly froze. Bizarrely, a wide, awkward grin crossed her face. Banner was staring down at her, she could see his eyes on her out of the corner of her own, and he wasn't moving away like he should have.

Just when she thought her heart would rocket out of her chest and splat on the floor, he let her go and walked away. Lilly watched him, furious with herself. Why did she let him do that? She was strong enough to rip his hand off and beat him to death with it! Why didn't she yell at him, push him away? Why was she afraid of him? Why did she smile?

Angrily, she hurled the letter, imagining she was slicing Banner's creepy head in half. The paper zipped along the stone until it reached the stairs and tipped over to fall along the first few steps. After a second or two of staring at it, Lilly padded over and picked it up with a shaking hand.

Running hard, she flew out of the Keep without stopping. Calcelmo and the dead man could wait.

Lilly curled up on the floor in front of the fireplace and rested her head on the warm stone. Another long, tortured yawn pulled itself out of her. It had to be some kind of miserable punishment from the Divines that she hadn't been able to get hardly any sleep since Nchuand-Zel.

Despite being covered in dirt and sweat and some smelly, goopy stuff that she suspected to be spider guts, no one had stopped her the evening she'd run out of the Keep. That was some sort of miracle by itself, but by another stroke of wild luck, Rory and Argis had been too busy with sorting through all the worthless junk in the man's bedroom to pay attention—even Theo, tiny king of the busybodies, had ignored her.

At first, she'd been relieved. Facing Calcelmo was bad enough, but Rory finding out about Nchuand-Zel would have meant certain death. Lilly would never see sunlight again. But then she realized that the guilt that set in after getting away with it was another sort of punishment.

Being brave and responsible had seemed a lot easier the day before. Butnow, after being safe at home with no murderous insects or stupid boys to interfere, all her nerve had disappeared. Going back to the Keep with the letter—alone—was the very last thing she wanted to do.

Guilt is a useless emotion, she chastised herself irritably. Thieves don't get guilty. Then she paused. Do they?

Lilly wondered if Brynjolf or Karliah ever felt guilty after stealing an expensive necklace from some woman whose husband had worked hard to save up the gold for, or a silver candlestick that had been in someone's family for years and years. The Guild never stole from the poor, but not everyone they swiped from was rich, either.

Maybe the two Nightingales would be proud of her if she told them the story—at least a little bit. After all, she'd single-handedly avoided watchful guards and broken into a sealed Dwemer ruin inside a jarl's palace. Pretty impressive, if she said so herself. No need to mention what happened after that.

Aldric wouldn't be proud. Lilly knew that much. At one time, she might've pulled him aside and whispered the whole story to him. But things felt different now. Once she'd finally gotten alone she couldn't help but think about the talk he'd tried to have with her the day before.

At first she'd been hurt and confused—he didn't want her to join the Guild, or to teach her everything he knew. That's all she'd wanted for years. Then she was confused—maybe she wasn't good enough to join, and Aldric didn't want to say that because he felt sorry for her.

Now she was just annoyed. What right did he have to lecture her about morals and what was honorable? Ha. Lilly laughed derisively in her head. Honor. It was like the times that Rory tried to have talks with her about how important it was to control her temper.

Lilly drowsily flicked a jagged chip of wood away from her, aiming for the underside of the iron grate that the burning logs rested on. No more thinking. The fire was finally beginning to lull her to sleep, and she folded her arm beneath her head for a pillow. The heat felt so nice. It warmed her face and wrapped around the back of her neck… just like…

The ghost of Banner's calloused, awful-smelling hand jolted Lilly awake. She scrambled upright, jerking backward to look behind her. Potatoes and a couple of heads of cabbage rolled in every direction as Rory's favorite cast-iron pot tumbled from the step she was resting on.

"Are you okay?"

Still breathing hard, Lilly whipped around with a gasp. Theo was standing only a foot or two away from her. "Will you stop doing that!" she snapped.

"Why are you sleeping on the floor?" he countered, looking down at her.

Lilly thought about getting up and stomping to her bedroom, but decided to stay where she was. The letter was well hidden under a pile of linens in her dresser, but she could almost feel it there every time she went near it. "I just like it today, I guess."

Theo studied her for a moment and then curled up next to her, mimicking the way her arm was tucked under her head. "Me too," he decided.

She forced a smile at him. It was just a dream. Rory would never let him in the house. "It's not too hot for you?"

A rosy flush was already beginning to color his little cheeks, but he shook his head.

"Okay. Just don't get too close. What are you doing in here, anyway?" she asked him, squashing a yawn. "Hungry?"

Theo blinked. "Mama says your friend is here."

For the second time in less than a minute, Lilly bolted upright. Theo leaned away warily, watching as she swiped at her hair and the corners of her mouth and eyes. "Please be good," she begged him, tugging her cuirass straight.

"I'm always good."

Lilly sighed loudly at him. With a haughty little look, Theo turned his face back to the fire and closed his eyes. "Don't go to sleep here," she told him. "You'll roast like a turnip."

"I don't like turnips."

"That's not—ugh. Never mind." Rolling her eyes, Lilly walked away and leaned against the wall on the other side of the room to eavesdrop.

Rory and Jannike were talking. Before she could work up the starch to walk into the room, Lilly heard her name. Footsteps approached, and she swallowed as her pulse spiked.

Rory rounded the corner and almost knocked into her. "What are you doing?"

"I just… I fell asleep by the fire." Lilly stepped back. "Jannike's here?"

"Yes. She said she's eating with us tonight," Rory observed, looking back at her.

Lilly hoped her flush looked like it was from the heat. "I forgot to tell you," she mumbled. "I'm sorry."

She heard a soft inhalation, and then Rory said, "You're afraid of her."

"No, I'm not."

Rory's brows drew together. "You smell—"

"I'm just nervous, all right?" Lilly cut her off. "Don't."

Her sister looked her over for a moment with the same silent, steady watchfulness that Theo had unnervingly adopted. "I can go tell her you're not feeling well. You don't have to do this."

Shaking her head, Lilly looked away. "It'll be fine. It's just a visit from a friend."

Rory was quiet, but her gaze didn't move from Lilly's face.

Lilly stared at the floor, wishing she could be anywhere else at that moment. Rory surely recognized Jannike from the day, months ago, that she'd finally gotten Lilly to point out the little pack to her on the street—but she wasn't saying anything about it.

Any other time, Lilly would have appreciated that. For once, Rory was holding back and letting her make her own decisions like a real adult. But for now it was just embarrassing. She knew what Rory was thinking: that she was too intimidated to say no. That she was afraid it would get worse if she didn't let it happen.

This is my only chance to make it stop, Lilly wanted to tell Rory. And I'm taking it.

With a soft hand on Lilly's elbow, Rory turned and walked past her. Lilly kept still and listened to her bicker with Theo for a moment longer while she tried to force herself to relax.

"Theo."

"I'm doing nothing!"

"Don't get too close, your hair's going to catch."

Lilly wished his hair would catch on fire. Just a little bit. A distraction like that, and maybe everything wouldn't feel so horribly awkward.

With a deep breath and a bright smile fixed on her face, she walked around the corner to face Jannike. The other girl was perched on the edge of the table, lazily examining the tip of a strand of her hair.

She caught sight of Lilly and looked up. "Well, hello there."

Her voice was off, but then Lilly was faking it, too. "Hello."

"So, that was your sister?" Jannike asked abruptly. "You don't have a mother?"

Taken aback, Lilly blinked. "Um, no. She died when I was born."

The older girl angled her head mischievously and cocked a brow. "So is Aldric your father?"

"No." Lilly jammed her hand in her pocket, tightly gripping her wrench. "He's… My sister, they're…"

"Are they married?"

"No." Not in a way she could explain, anyhow.

"Are they going to be married?" Jannike pressed without missing a beat.

"Ah… I haven't heard them talk about it."

Jannike settled herself back on the table, looking pleased about something.

Lilly let go of the wrench when her hand grew sweaty. The unexpected conversation had completely wiped away any of her half-formed ideas of what to talk about. "Um… would you like something to drink?"

"I'll have some mead," the other girl replied smoothly. "If you have any."

She highly doubted Rory would allow that. "Right," she said, laughing like it was a joke. "I can get you some tea if that's all right?"

Jannike flashed a throwaway smile that didn't reach her eyes and went back to her hair. "Wonderful."

Swallowing hard, Lilly ignored the feeling of the pit opening up in her stomach and went right back through the doorway that she'd just come through.

Lilly swirled her spoon around her bowl over and over, herding a chunk of leek through the gravy. Rory's venison stew was delicious as always, and there was even a fresh batch of sweetrolls to follow, but her appetite had shrunk down to nothing.

She glanced up from her food. For the last half an hour, Theo had dominated the table with talk of the crate of trinkets Argis had given him after clearing out his bedroom for Aldric. Lilly was worried it would be so dreary and uninteresting that Jannike would fall asleep, but she laughed and smiled at all the same times that Aldric had.

Maybe she thinks Theo is charming, Lilly thought, looking over at him. He certainly did appear to be at first impression, with his mop of curls and his chubby little cheeks. Women were always cooing over him, oblivious to his true nature as daedra spawn.

Now the table was quiet, save for the sounds of Theo savagely worrying a chunk of meat between his front teeth. Rory was ignoring Jannike. Lilly couldn't think of a single thing to say. Only Aldric had bothered to try to talk so far.

Gritting her teeth, Lilly knocked her boot into his under the table. Midway through eating a spoonful of his stew, Aldric's eyes slid over to hers. Lilly tilted her chin to Jannike. He glanced at her, and then back to Lilly with a silent question on his face.

"Say something," she mouthed.

Swallowing, Aldric cleared his throat and then turned to the other girl, who was occupying Rory's chair next to him. "Do you… like venison, Jannike?" he started haltingly.

Jannike looked down at the bowl in front of her that she'd hardly touched. "Oh… no, I don't care for it. It's cooked well, though."

"That's terrible," Aldric teased her. "This stew is one of my favorite things to eat."

"Well, it can be tasty," Jannike hastily amended. She picked up her spoon and wrangled a large bite. Looking up at Aldric with fluttery eyes, she asked, "Did you purchase the meat specially for tonight?"

"I imagine Rory hunted it."

"No, I bought it," Rory interjected. "Deer is hard to find in the Reach, and harder still to compete against the bears for. I don't hunt much here."

"You can't be afraid of bears!" Jannike giggled to Aldric. "I think you could kill one with your hands."

Rory rolled her eyes.

Aldric grinned. "Never tried that before."

"What sorts of animals have you killed?" Jannike asked him, leaning forward so far her chest almost tipped her bowl over. She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "All kinds of big, nasty ones, I bet."

Aldric's smile faltered, and Lilly knew he was thinking about dragons. "Just about one of every kind, I would guess."

Theo paused in his chewing and regarded Aldric suspiciously, as if he were reconsidering him.

"That's amazing," the girl murmured. "What do you do? Are you a soldier?"

Again, a brief crease showed between Aldric's brows. He shuffled a bit in his seat. "I'm not a soldier, no. I'm part of the Companions, in Whiterun."

Jannike gasped. "You're joking."

Lilly was enjoying the way Aldric was squirming, and she hoped his earlier talk about honor was resurfacing. Don't want to tell her about the Guild, do you?

"I'm not."

"I have an exciting idea," Jannike declared. "You absolutely must visit the Understone Keep. My father is very close with Jarl Silver-Blood, and I'm sure everyone would love to hear your stories."

"Who's your father, Jannike?" Aldric asked her.

"Kottir Red-Shoal," she said proudly. "He's the commander of the Stormcloak battalion in the Reach."

"It's been a while since I've been inside the Keep," Aldric mused diplomatically, taking another bite of his food.

"Everything looks the same, I assure you." Rory pulled Theo's cup of goat's milk away from his elbow. "Right down to the Mournful Throne."

"You mean the Cornhole Throne," Lilly muttered.

Aldric choked.

Rory dropped her spoon with a clatter. "Lilly."

Jannike's pretty face screwed up in confusion. "The what?"

"Oh, it's nothing." She shook her head. "It's just a joke. I was joking."

"Hmm." Jannike looked her up and down slowly. "Funny."

Face hot, Lilly hastily ducked her head to her dinner again. The stew could probably drown her if she ate all of the vegetables and meat first.

Theo and Rory were back to their usual selves. Outside of her door, Lilly could hear them talking and laughing as they cleaned up the table.

Traitors, she thought darkly.

Jannike had left after another hour or so of torture, and only because it was well past sundown—and because Aldric had finally run through the limited amount of stories he could share that didn't reveal any of his secrets. Lilly had no idea why Jannike was so fascinated with what he had to say; once all of his best things were hidden, he was about as exciting as a stalk of wheat.

She rolled off her bed and stood up. At a loss, she pulled open her dresser—strategically avoiding the drawer the letter was in—and started to aimlessly look through her things.

What does Jannike want?

The question had gnawed at Lilly since halfway through dinner. Jannike hadn't exactly been mean to her, but she hadn't acted like someone who wanted to be friends the way she had claimed. She was pretty sure friends paid attention to each other.

"I'm terrible at this," Lilly groaned to no one.

All she wanted was to have a friend—just one good friend. Was that so much to ask the Divines for? Just one! A lot of people had more than they could handle. Rory, of all people, was constantly dealing with the steady stream of men and women that wanted to be close to the Thane of the Reach.

Lilly looked down into her drawer. Her spare leathers were neatly rolled and lined up, patiently waiting in case she ripped or stained the ones she wore every day. They weren't exact copies of the Guild armor, but they were close. After all, Elijah had recognized them.

Maybe that's what's wrong with me, Lilly speculated uncertainly. If other people recognized what she wore, they certainly wouldn't want to hang around a thief—and they'd tell their children to stay away, too.

Slowly, Lilly pushed the drawer closed and turned to the tall wardrobe in the corner. Dresses of every cut and color hung inside, neatly pressed and lined up like a little rainbow. Many of them had been given to Rory for free, from garment makers hoping she or Lilly would wear them. She ran her hands through them, snorting when she realized they had begun to gather dust.

One by one, the dresses were tossed onto the bed when she found them to be either too short or too small in the chest. Lilly was beginning to think that none of them would work until she got to the last one.

It fit her well, and she liked the bright, rust-red color of it. She twirled around once or twice, the long, slim skirt swishing softly with her. With her sturdy boots still on, it didn't quite touch the ground, and the sleeves were nice and snug to her arms.

Lilly caught sight of the abandoned pouch of little tools she carried, like her wrench and picks. It peeked out from partway underneath the pile of dresses almost desperately, as if begging her to save it from the colorful rejects. She picked it up, making to fit it onto the belt that her dagger hung from, but then stopped.

Aldric's voice echoed in her mind. "I don't want you to join the Guild."

Lilly stared at the beat-up, scarred leather bag for a long time, and then turned it and put it into the same drawer that held the letter written by the corpse in Nchuand-Zel.

I don't need him.