Thaegoth came down into the main hall of Dragonsreach one evening, filled with purpose. Jarl Nelkir was on his throne, reading a letter. As Thaegoth approached, the Jarl crumpled the letter, stood up, and hurled the letter into the fire.
"My lord," said Thaegoth, "I wanted to ask you about Dagny."
Hrongar, on the other side of the dais, looked up sharply. He made a few rushed hand movements, trying to get Thaegoth to shut up, but it was too late.
"Did you?" snapped Nelkir.
"It's just . . . she's been in the dungeon a long time," said Thaegoth. "I merely wished to know whether—"
"You wished," said Nelkir. "Carry on doing so." He stared for a moment off to the side. "But I have dallied too long. It is time for a decision. Come."
He strode towards the dungeon. Thaegoth and Hrongar looked at each other, then hurried to follow. They caught up with the Jarl as he was going down the stairs.
"It is important for a leader not to be hasty," Hrongar said, inbetween wheezing breaths as they descended.
"It is important for you to be quiet," said Nelkir, without turning around. He stopped in front of Dagny's cell. She was thin and dirty but still had enough energy to rise and glare at her brother. She was clearly holding back an insult. "I've been deciding what to do with you," said Nelkir.
"So decide," said Dagny.
Nelkir rested his hands on the bars and smiled at her. There was silence for a long time. Then, one of the kids in the next cell—Thaegoth didn't see which—made a farting noise. Dagny grinned, but Nelkir's face went blank.
"Death," he said.
He turned, and strode from the dungeon. Hrongar hurried after, trying to argue for a different course of action. The Jarl walked on as if he did not hear. Thaegoth remained, and met Dagny's eyes.
"I won't let that happen," he said.
"You didn't come back," cut in one of the kids, Galt.
"We gotta talk to you," said the other, Maeve.
"I don't have time," said Thaegoth. "Not right now. But I'll be back."
Dagny shook her head and moved away from the bars. She slumped back on her bed.
"Nice sword, by the way," she said.
Thaegoth lingered for a moment, his fingers sliding down the bars, then turned and left the dungeon. He went up to his room, left his sword on his bed, and changed from the leather armour he wore while on duty into plain brown clothes. Nelkir wasn't in the great hall when he went back down, but Thaegoth wouldn't have stopped in either case. He left Dragonsreach and headed down into Whiterun. For the idea that was forming in his head, he didn't want to be slowed down by armour. Or let his distinctive sword give him away.
He slipped into the Bannered Mare and up to the bar. The bartender, Saadia, had served him enough times to know who he was. Although every Companion was known by name in Whiterun and beyond, he remembered. Something hard to get used to after the incognito of the Guild. He perched on a stool and leaned across when she approached.
"What can I get you?" she asked. "Mead, isn't it?"
"Actually," said Thaegoth, dropping his voice to a whisper. Not that it was necessary, for the gathering evening crowd made it impossible to eavesdrop. "I was wondering if you knew how to contact the local Guild."
No surprise came across Saadia's face. If anything, she just looked tired.
"They just get bigger and bigger," she said. She shook her head and leaned closer. "I heard there's a senior member in town planning something. Breezehome, I heard."
"The Dragonborn's house?" asked Thaegoth, his eyebrows shooting up.
"She hasn't been in town for years," said Saadia. "But people see lights on upstairs, dark figures slipping in and out."
Thaegoth nodded and leaned away. "Thanks," he said.
"Don't mention it," said Saadia. She smiled at him and moved away to some other needy customer.
Thaegoth left the inn and headed for Jorrvaskr. Evening was upon Whiterun, and only a few streaks of light were left in the sky to the west. Still, he'd been there long enough now that he never got lost. He eased open one of the front doors of the hall of the Companions and found the whole group at the central table, having dinner. There were Aela and Irileth, sitting very close to one another. There was Nebia, her mouth overfull. There was Thorald, dishing out seconds to those who wanted them. There was Charos, Thaegoth noticed with surprise. And an orc woman he didn't recognise.
And there was Sonja. She didn't see him at first, occupied in smiling at some story Irileth was telling. But Aela's eyes had snapped up as soon as the door opened, and soon everybody was looking at Thaegoth. Nobody moved until he closed the door behind him.
"Dagny's been sentenced to death," he said.
Charos rose, his chair clacking to the floor behind. He strode for the stairs that led downstairs.
"Let me fetch my sword," he said, "and I will sever that boy's head from his shoulders."
Irileth rose and caught him before he'd gotten far.
"Hold on, now," she said. She looked over at Thaegoth. "Maybe there's some other way we can solve this."
"I'm going to talk to the Guild," said Thaegoth.
Aela rose from her seat. Irileth opened her mouth to speak, but the Harbinger cut her off. "Enough," she said. "Whatever you're going to do, I don't want to hear it." She pushed past Charos and vanished down the stairs.
Irileth exhaled. "Well, I do," she said. "One of you tell me later." She walked back over to the table, picked up her and Aela's bowls, and headed downstairs. Thaegoth came over to the table and sat in the seat vacated by their Harbinger.
"Well?" asked Nebia. "What've you got, Thaegy?"
"Maybe Aela's right," said Thaegoth, tearing his eyes away from Sonja for a moment. "Maybe it's best I do this on my own." He rose and headed for the door. Sonja stopped him before he got there.
"You're a fool," she said.
Nebia burst out laughing. Sonja reddened.
"Sorry, that's not . . . that's not the first thing I wanted to say when you got back," she said. "I just . . . we're the Companions. We do things together."
Thaegoth felt some of the tension go out of his shoulders. He looked at the floor, then at Sonja. "Maybe . . ." he said.
"You're a fool," said Nebia. "You're a fool, I'm a fool, we're all fools. What's the gods-damned plan?"
"I'm going to talk to the Guild," said Thaegoth. "See if they'll help break Dagny out of Dragonsreach."
"I'm Yanakh, by the way," said the orc woman, rising to reveal herself as even taller than Sonja. She approached and extended her hand. "You must be Thaegoth. I've heard a great deal about you." Sonja reddened again.
"Uh, sure," Thaegoth managed to say, as he and Yanakh grasped wrists.
"I am not native to Whiterun," said Yanakh, "so I cannot help you find your local branch of the Guild. In Winterhold, I could be of more assistance."
"I know where they are," said Thaegoth. "Breezehome."
"What?" said Sonja. "The Dragonborn's old house?"
"That's what I heard."
"Well come on then," she said, and dragged him out the door.
As soon as they were past the outer wall of Jorrvaskr, however, their pace slowed, and Sonja let go of Thaegoth's hand. There was silence between them as they trod down towards Breezehome. The house was boarded up, and Sonja's knock at the door elicited no response. However, as they trod around the house, Thaegoth noticed slivers of lamplight coming through the boards on an upstairs window.
Sonja alerted a passing guard to this. The guard didn't even follow her gesture, just kept their eyes on her.
"You're mistaken," said the guard. "Move along now. There's no lollygagging in Whiterun, even for the Companions."
Sonja was about to protest when Thaegoth grabbed her and pulled her away, thanking the guard. He guided her down a narrow path until they were ensconced in the shadows near the outer wall of the town.
"Unbelievable," Sonja was muttering.
"The Guild bribes the guards everywhere," said Thaegoth. "It's how they do things."
"What, is every guard in Skyrim in their pocket?" asked Sonja.
Thaegoth shrugged. "Probably not," he said. "But enough."
Both of them noticed then that, this time, they hadn't let go of each other. Neither of them made a move to do so, either.
"How are we going to get in?" Sonja remembered to ask, making herself look back towards Breezehome.
"Wait until later," said Thaegoth. "When the guard patrols thin out. Then we'll go in through the ground-floor window."
He pointed, revealing the only window that wasn't boarded up. The glass was dark, but the way was otherwise clear and simple. Sonja cleared her throat and looked at the dark sky and its blanket of stars.
"What shall we do until then?" she asked.
Thaegoth remembered that the kids in Dragonsreach wanted to speak to him. He was about to suggest he sneak back up there, through the side door of the dungeon, and find out what they wanted, when he was distracted by Sonja kissing him.
Their faces only lit by the rising moons, they stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Not enough light to assess a reaction, realised Thaegoth. So he kissed her back. She pushed him up against the wooden wall of Whiterun, tilted his head up, and kissed him again.
Thaegoth broke away, laughing.
"What?" asked Sonja.
"You taste like snowberries," he said.
"Blame Yanakh," said Sonja, "she was cooking."
"I'll be sure to thank her," said Thaegoth. His smirk was visible even in that low light. Sonja rolled her eyes and went back to kissing him.
Some time later, the pair emerged, checked for guards and, as quietly as possible, put a rock through the window of Breezehome. Thaegoth cleared away the shards of glass as best he could, then helped Sonja heave herself through.
Whatever small room she emerged in was dark, but the interior door was open and firelight was visible, its source somewhere to the right. Sonja leaned back up and helped Thaegoth in. The small room contained nothing but an alchemy table, a shelf filled with books, and a small bed—though it hadn't been slept in recently.
Sonja gestured for quiet and this time it was Thaegoth who rolled his eyes. On their way out of the room, however, he tripped and cannoned into Sonja's back. She staggered but he fell. All of it with gasps and thumps and curses. She pulled him up and kept pulling until they were kissing again, illuminated by the firelight.
There was a cough from the direction of the fire.
"That's plenty cute and all," said a voice, "but you wanna explain what you're doin in my house?"
Sitting in a chair by the fire with her feet up was a female Khajiit, her fur dark brown with black stripes. There were three pale parallel diagonal scars over her snout. She was wearing a style of Guild armour that Sonja hadn't seen before, black rather than brown, though with no change to the endless array of pockets and compartments.
Thaegoth had left his new sword up in Dragonsreach, and Sonja only had her knife, which she drew. The Khajiit seemed unconcerned.
"You know that window has a latch, right?" she said.
"We, uh, we didn't check," said Thaegoth.
"How d'you think I get in and out?" said the Khajiit. "How you ever made it in the Guild I'll never know."
"You . . ." managed Thaegoth.
"Of course I know who you are," said the Khajiit. "Part of the job, ya know? Also your buddy Mirath popped in to see us. You're Thaegoth and Sonja, of the illustrious Companions. Good job on the rebuilding, by the way."
"What?" said Sonja, her voice rising. "What do you care? You're a fucking thief. And what are you doing in the Dragonborn's house? Shitting on her legacy." She took a few steps towards the Khajiit.
The Khajiit rose. She seemed tired, but stood firm.
"I care," she said, "because the Companions, fools that most of the old ones were, stand for what's right, even when it's stupid to do it. S'admirable. We could all learn somethin from 'em."
"Even the Guild?" asked Thaegoth.
"Specially the Guild," said the Khajiit. "And . . . as for this place, you don't know shit bout the Dragonborn. Most don't, anymore." She turned and sunk back into her chair, her tail curling away from the fire. "My name's Dar'epha, anyway," she said. "And you're gonna ask me for help breaking Dagny out of Dragonsreach."
"That . . . seems like it would've been harder to find out," said Thaegoth.
Dar'epha waggled her fingers. "Got eyes everywhere," she said. "And I made some little edumacated guesses." She shrugged. "Course, I'll do it. People like Nelkir are bad for business."
"What's the cost?" asked Thaegoth. There was always one, with the Guild. He knew that better than most.
"You gotta help me with a job," she said. "Somethin personal, kinda, else I'd just get one of my learned colleagues to do it. It's easy. And not illegal, not really. And I'll throw in some letters that have vanished from Dragonsreach that prove your little Nelkir's been dealing with your local bandits, the Silent Moons. But you don't get those til you've done your job for me."
"Done," said Thaegoth.
"Wait," said Sonja. She turned to him. "Are we sure about this? Working with the Guild? I thought you'd put that behind you."
"I don't plan on making a habit of it," said Thaegoth. "You want to mount a frontal assault on Dragonsreach? This'll get Dagny out. Way the Guild operates, it'll be quick and quiet. Probably they've got a regular way in and out of the dungeon."
They both looked at Dar'epha, who grinned.
"Ah, old Whiterun," she said. "Pretty simple jailbreak, really. We can even do it tonight, if you like."