((16th of Heartfire/September, 4E 202))
Shamefully, I had been enjoying myself more and more with every job I took. Markarth, Windhelm, Solitude- I managed to take enough that I could start turning down Whiterun. While I preferred to get my jobs from Brynjolf, I usually grabbed them from Delvin when the Nord was nowhere to be found. I allowed myself a day to relax when I'd finally completed my last assignment, wiping my debt and taking a load of stress off my back. With a month gone by, everyone seemed slightly friendlier to me. Of course, I was often told no one cared about anyone down here, and the only thing that mattered was how much gold I could make the Guild. It mattered little to me. I wasn't looking for a new family. I wanted a thrill, I wanted money, and just being part of a group was enough.
Despite the harsh remarks, I often received a smile from Brynjolf, and Niruin was always eager to share marksman tips and stories. Sapphire and I remained what could almost be called rivals, usually staying apart from each other as much as possible. Even if no one else was available, we refused to work joint jobs together. No matter what happened, Saph remained as prickly as ever.
About halfway through Heartfire, I decided to do some sword practice in the back to keep myself sharp and my blade sharper. The training room was occupied when I walked in. I recognized the black leather and tangled red hair. Brynjolf must've heard me as he halted in his furious swings and faced me. "Good to see you, lass." He sounded pleased.
"Mmhmm," I snorted, trying to ignore him while I turned to the dummy. The training dummy, not the Nord. Amusement rolled off Brynjolf in waves while I went ahead with fire in my cheeks. It took me about three minutes before I dropped my sword and threw a handful of straw at him. "Is there something you need?" My snapping didn't affect the sly man, as he simply smirked knowingly.
"No, of course not," he simpered, crossing his arms and putting his weight onto his left leg. "Don't stop on my account." With an eye roll and quick stretch, I shook my head and resumed whacking the dummy.
"Wouldn't dream of it." My swings became wild and off-balance the longer Bryn stood beside me, and I fervently wished that he'd go away. I refused to let him get the better of me or make me stop my training.
"Lass?"
"What?!" I thundered, glaring at the Nord with sweat dripping down my face. Ignoring the clear frustration in my stance and voice, he sauntered forward confidently. Without hesitation, he grasped my sword arm tightly. "Let go, Brynjolf!" He looked at me with mock innocence.
"I'm just trying to help you, lass." He rotated my elbow slightly and readjusted my finger placement around the hilt of my blade. "If you keep your limbs tense, then you'll slow down in the middle of battle." He was mere inches away, and I kicked him away with a scowl.
"What do you know about battle? The only reason I'm tense at all is that you're staring at me, you bastard." Bryn threw his head back and laughed.
"Then you need to learn to fight in moments of discomfort." He approached me again, mouth brushing the red hair draped over my ear. When he finally spoke, his voice was hardly more than a hush. "And that's one of the most important things in a rough situation, lass... don't get distracted." He pulled away swiftly, my coinpurse hanging from his fingertips. I gritted my teeth and tried to snatch it, but the Nord thief was faster than I. "No, I think I'll keep this."
"I just paid my debt; give that back!" He held it above my head, easily keeping it out of reach. His laugh shook his chest, yet he still managed to prevent me from retaking it. "Brynjolf!"My subsequent lunge didn't even touch him. He'd rolled away the second I'd even considered taking him down.
"Did you know those pretty blue eyes of yours flash when you're ready to fight, lass?"
"Did you know you're a scamp's ass?" I snarled, refusing to be bought by his honeyed words. A few moments passed, mind racing and heart beating as I tried to think of any other way to retrieve my gold. None came to mind, and I hurled an annoyed roar to the ceiling. Although I didn't have the urge to turn into a werewolf, that didn't mean I wasn't pissed to the high heavens. With a curse and a smack at his shoulder, I spat at Brynjolf's feet and stormed out of the training room.
...
((24th of Heartfire/September, 4E 202))
It was nearing the end of Heartfire when I was called to the cistern the day following a pickpocketing contract. The two men in charge, Mercer and Brynjolf, stood in the middle. Mercer glared at me with distaste and beckoned me over. Concern fluttered in my gut when the Guildmaster began to fiddle with the Dwarven sword at his side, but a reassuring grin from Brynjolf set my nerves to rest.
"We've been waiting for your return, lass." I raised an eyebrow.
"Standing here for three days?" I teased. My words took on a cross tone though my smile remained. "Did you forget my name, lad?" Of course, he knew my name. 'Lass' seemed almost a term of endearment to Bryn. Our friendly banter was interrupted by the ass of a leader next to the red-haired Nord.
"That's enough, you two. Her name isn't important, Brynjolf, and neither is she." Mercer mirrored my furious glare, sunlight streaming through the roof and making the dirt on his skin stand out. The scar on his cheekbone was emphasized as well. "What matters is that we've given her another chance, even if it took her a month to pay up." He crossed his arms, mimicking my position. "I don't want you waltzing up and thinking you own the world."
I bit my lip in an attempt to keep the sly snap from slipping through but failed. "I might not own the world, but neither do you."
"Lass..." Brynjolf sent me a warning glance. A wicked expression spread across Mercer's face after an idea occurred to him. I almost felt nervous at his look of inspiration.
"She'll be going to Goldenglow Estate." The triumph in his nasty little voice was blatantly obvious, though also something I chose to ignore.
Brynjolf looked at Mercer doubtfully. "Mercer, even our little Vex couldn't get in," he objected. "There's a chance she won't even come back alive." I pressed my tongue against the side of my cheek. Did they both doubt me? Then again, if my biggest supporter here didn't think it was a good idea to go through, it probably wasn't. I shook my head to return to the conversation at hand. Mercer snidely spoke to Brynjolf, gesturing to me every once in a while.
"Well, that's the whole point of proving herself. She may have managed a few contracts, but that's not good enough," the Breton enunciated. That presumptuous rat was getting on my nerves more than Brynjolf ever did, and if I was any less rested, I might not have been able to hold off my lycanthropy. I had no doubt that by that statement, he'd meant that I wasn't good enough. "This job is for a critically important client, so don't muck it up." Bryn stepped on my toe before I could give Mercer a decent tongue-lashing.
"I'll take care of the rest, Mercer. Thank you," the Nord said pointedly. After a brief pause, the Guildmaster shoved his way past me while Brynjolf appeared sympathetic. Ignoring the pity in Bryn's eyes, I asked him (in a slightly more profane way) what was going on. "This shouldn't be a surprise, but Mercer's not exactly your biggest fan."
"That honor belongs to you."
Brynjolf rolled his eyes. "Mercer and I had already discussed the contract that would let you join the Guild for good. We'd settled on you helping out one of our old contacts in Markarth, but I'll admit that I didn't expect him to switch it up." He frowned. "I can't say I'm surprised, but I also have no choice but to listen." Brynjolf rubbed at his temples. "And now I'll need to find someone to take care of that Markarth job. Gods be damned, lass. You're almost more trouble than you're worth."
"Ouch."
"I said almost."
"And I said ouch." I scowled at Brynjolf and pushed him a bit. "That's enough chitchat, Bryn. Where do I need to go, and what do I need to do?"
"Straight to the point now, eh?" The Nord sounded approving at my desire to get the job over and done with. He cleared his throat before continuing, bringing out a map of the Rift and pointing to Lake Honrich. "Well, as Mercer said, your new job is the Goldenglow Estate contract. One of our important clients wants something done, and we haven't been able to find anyone who'd be able to complete it." He folded it back up and tucked it into his breast pocket. "See, there's this High Elf named Aringoth who decided that he's finished with the Guild. Now, this job's going to involve a bit of fire, and you have the temper to match." The corner of Bryn's mouth lifted in a smile, but I didn't share in his amusement. The Nord ran a hand through his dark red hair as he went on, tone turning stiff as his grin faded. "Goldenglow Estate is a majorly important point for Maven Black-Briar's meadery. It creates the honey she needs for it, and Aringoth cut her out of it. I'm shocked she hasn't contacted the Dark Brotherhood." He let out a half-nervous chuckle.
"So, what am I going for here?" I asked cautiously, and Brynjolf started to fidget.
"You need to get to the Estate and burn three of the hives. Only three, you hear me? Any more, and you'll have to deal with the consequences." Brynjolf spoke sternly, and I bit my lip in worry. "After that, you need to clear out Aringoth's safe in the cellar." I tapped my chin as I contemplated the plan and what I would have to do to succeed.
"What's the security like around the place?"
"All I can offer is that the only land bridge is through the Riften Docks, but I don't think that's how Vex tried to get in." That now-familiar doubt created a stone in my chest.
"If Vex couldn't get in, then how am I?" I queried, unwilling to set off if it would be an impossible journey. My stubborn courage had gotten me into trouble more than once, but I wasn't a fool.
Mostly.
"I don't know," he admitted, "but it's a direct mandate from Mercer, and Maven isn't someone we'd like to anger. Besides, it's been over two weeks since she gave the order. I'd venture to guess she's getting impatient."
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I thought the plan over. "What if someone gets in my way? I understand that the point is to be quiet." I figured I knew what he would say even before the words reached my ears, but I wanted the confirmation to avoid trouble.
"Lass, if you're noticed, you'll have to fight your way through," Brynjolf said lowly. I was silent for a moment.
"What should I do about Aringoth?" I questioned, a seed of worry planted in my head. Bryn's voice gained a hard edge.
"If he stands against you... kill him."
...
Back in the Companions, it had been my headstrong nature that'd gotten me into trouble in the first place. It would be a poor idea to rush off without intel on the bee farm, so I decided to look for Vex in the Flagon. Since she'd been to Goldenglow before (albeit on a mission doomed to failure,) she was the best place to start. I hadn't even greeted her before she demanded an explanation.
"Make it quick." I followed up with Mercer's order for my goal at the Estate, and her mouth curved into a frown. "It's a dangerous job, for sure. The damn Altmer tripled the security around the Estate." Was that a hint of anxiety I detected?
"Any way I could avoid direct confrontation?"
"Well... I got in through a sewer pipe near the house." Vex straightened up. "Here, where's your map? I'll mark the house and grate for you." I thanked her for the assistance after she made the bit on my parchment. With a nod to Delvin, I headed through the Flagon and out the secret passage.
The now-familiar smell of the musty water hit my nose, but unlike when I'd first entered the cistern, I didn't recoil. The other thieves milled about, busy with their own training, preparation, and drinking.
"You going now?" A hand enclasped my shoulder, and I shook it off before turning around to see Brynjolf.
"I was planning on it."
The tall Nord scratched his chin. "Not sure you should. I'm sure Vex told you about the increased security, am I wrong?"
"Yeah. I mean, no. I'm-" I shook my head, cheeks red as a snowberry. "Yes, she told me about it, no, you're not wrong." Sending the grinning Brynjolf a glare, I crossed my arms. "Shut up."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking it," I accused, jabbing a finger into Brynjolf's chest. He peered at me for a moment before busting out laughing. "What now?" He tapped the bridge of my nose, and I quickly swatted his hand away with a scowl. This only brought out another chuckle from the Nord. "Quit touching me!"
Brynjolf set his arms akimbo. "Did you know your nose scrunches up when you're frustrated, lass?" Now starkly aware, I covered the lower half of my face.
"Why are you here, Bryn?" I grumbled, voice muffled through my hand.
"Oh, I came to offer some advice." He lifted a single red brow when I didn't answer him. "You said you're thinking of going now?"
"Well, there's no point in just staying, is there?" I pointed out. "There's a job to be done, so why bother sticking around?" My hand dropped just as his smile did, wildly different from his former jovial expression.
"It'd be dangerous right now." Brynjolf gestured to the dim light coming from the cistern's ceiling. "It'll be evening soon." He seemed to be waiting for me to catch on.
"Evening..." I bit at my lip before his meaning dawned on me. "And by the time I get to Goldenglow, the guards will be switching shifts. An extra set of guards, and the replacements will be extra vigilant at the beginning of their shifts."
Brynjolf nodded his head, visibly proud. "That's right. Sharp as a whip, lass." His smile returned. "You're headstrong and impulsive for sure, but at least you've got a brain in that head of yours- when you stop rushing long enough to use it."
"Out of the two of us, someone's got to have a brain," I taunted, enjoying his ensuing scowl a little too much.
"A brain and a pretty face won't stop me from shoving you into that lake, lass."
"You wouldn't dare."
A wicked glint entered Brynjolf's emerald green eyes. "Wouldn't I?"
...
((25th of Heartfire/September, 4E 202))
A cold winter breeze blew past when I climbed back out into Riften the following morning. Even the most temperate part of Skyrim was still part of Skyrim. In other provinces, the autumn seasons were just beginning. Meanwhile, it had already snowed in the Rift twice since the beginning of Heartfire. Winter was quickly approaching, and it would be the first I'd spend outside of Whiterun in years- the first of many. I allowed my mind to drift, wondering about my former friends. Aela would likely start going on morning runs with Skjor, and I understood why. Running as a wolf with frost on the grass and the sun still hiding behind the horizon was its own unique experience. Farkas and Vilkas would be training recruits if there were any, and if not, they'd be handling the contracts of the Circle. Kodlak...
A commotion in the marketplace grabbed my attention, wrenching me from my nostalgic daydreams. The sharp, easily recognizable colors of vampire armor caught my eye, humanoid leeches darting around the wooden stalls while hissing in ecstasy, preying upon the few souls that were up this early. One of my favorite opponents was vampires. There was just something about killing an ages-old soul-sucking beast that warmed the heart. My long silver sword made a sharp zing as I slipped it from its sheathe, and when I caught the gleaming yellow eyes of a High Elf female, my excitement only grew.
"I have lived far too long to be defeated by an insignificant pup like you!" she chortled, baring her long fangs. It was clear she smelled the wolf in my blood, but it would hardly matter. I wasn't about to shift in the middle of town.
"Then you'd better run for cover because this pup's all grown up!" I gritted my teeth as a spell sapped my strength, the tingling replacing my energy with sludge. Slipping a green potion of stamina pulled from my thigh pocket, I downed the liquid inside and threw the bottle at the vampire. She screeched in pain as the glass shattered against her bare face, black-tinted blood streaming down her leathery skin. With the distraction, I lashed out and swung for her throat. A dull thud echoed in the cold as her golden head hit the ground. Her Imperial vampire friend glowered with rage when he noticed the dead Altmer vampire. He clenched his fists.
"I'll kill you for the glory of Molag Bal!" he swore, rushing me. It was apparent he was a fledgling vampire from his erratic swings to the lack of magical ability. It only took one swift slice with my blade to take him down.
I spit on the corpse. "Molag Bal is still having a hard time finding decent lackeys, hmm? The Second Era must've been a bitch." I swiftly collected the vampire dust from their crumbling, dry remains. While disgusting, the reagents were incredibly useful. While I was no alchemist by any means, vampire dust made an invisibility potion far more potent. As a thief, a powerful invisibility enchantment just might be my saving grace.
Although I'd saved the townspeople from vamps, something even the guards had avoided helping with, I received no thanks or reward. I snorted once on my way to the docks, hating being treated as an average weakling instead of the warrior I was. It'd be nice to be appreciated every once in a while. I continued to grumble under my breath, mood darkening even further as I looked out over Lake Honrich. Double-checking the map, I confirmed that the drain was on the far right side of the island. Muttering an expletive, I walked along the docks until I found a small enough boat to make it across. The dockmaster was nowhere to be seen. "Oh no," I said softly, untying the rope. "Oh gosh, I guess I'll just have to use the boat without permission, oh no..." The cold water splashed up onto my hand, and even with my Nordic defenses, I could feel it was frigid.
"Hello?" At the raspy voice, I nearly jumped out of my shoes. In my sleepless state, I hadn't even heard anyone approach. I stumbled away from the boat, full of alarm. A sick-looking yellow-scaled Argonian stared at me, eyes dull and voice duller. "Can I help you?"
My mind raced as I attempted to come up with an excuse. "I- can you-" I stood up straight and composed myself, clearing my throat. "I was looking at this boat as I was considering asking to borrow it. Do you know who it belongs to?"
"Yes, that would be me." Her tail flicked about. "My name is Wujeeta."
"Ah, I see. Perhaps I can simply-"
"Two hundred septims and it's yours."
I blinked in temporary surprise. "I, um, don't need to buy it. I just need to borrow it."
The Argonian coughed into the crook of her arm. "How about a health potion? I need a good one, the really big kind." She scowled. "That charlatan with the Falmer blood elixir is a liar." I was somewhat tempted to defend Brynjolf but figured there was no point. "So-"
"I can get a potion for you. I don't have the gold, but I can get a potion," I said, mind racing as to how I'd manage that much. She knew I wanted to use the boat, so even if I took it without payment, she'd seen my face. It would be obvious who stole it; I'd be in Mistveil Keep's prisons for grand larceny faster than you could say 'tax evasion.'
Wujeeta eyed me disbelievingly. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Are you going to stick around? I don't think it should take very long." I tapped my fingers on the wood railing and picked at a splinter.
"Well, it's about 7:30, right?" Wujeeta looked at the bright blue sky. "I'll be here at the docks until around 9, then I'll be headed inside the fishery." Her faded eyes gained a happier gleam. "Can you really get me the potion?"
I nodded. "Of course, I can." Out of nowhere, the Argonian woman collapsed to the ground and grasped my ankles. I instinctively yelped and jumped away. "What in Oblivion are you doing?"
"Thank you," she blubbered, clawed hands to her eyes. "By the gods, thank you." Tears streamed down her scales. "You have no idea what it's like to have everything, then watch it all disappear." A lump grew in my throat, and I forced it down. I had some idea of what that was like. "Oh, my aching head..." I pressed my lips together awkwardly at Wujeeta's odd behavior. Unsure of what to say, I elected to stay quiet and just go get a health potion for her. I had smaller ones on my person, but if she needed a specific potion, then I needed to figure out how to procure it. I certainly couldn't create one.
My tired eyes wandered down to the lower walkway. I couldn't recall any apothecary's shop on the main level, meaning if there was one, it was down below. There seemed to be a thousand different steps to this job, and the more I thought about it, the more frustrated I grew.
I had to acquire the documents from Goldenglow, but before I could do that, I had to confront Aringoth. Before that, I had to burn three- and only three- hives. Before that, I had to inspect the island's outer area to find Vex's hidden passageway. To actually do that, I had to make sure I could avoid the attention of the scores of mercenaries guarding the bee farm. Before I could do that, I had to acquire the boat from a mentally unstable Argonian. Before that, I had to get her a potion because I couldn't afford to just hand over two hundred septims- thanks to Mercer. Before that, I had to find a place to find the specific health potion she needed for whatever reason.
Exasperated, I pulled on my red hair, mind racing to try and figure out what I was supposed to do.
"Lass... let me know if you need anything. I'm here to help."
I wondered if Bryn would still follow up on his promise from a month prior. This job wouldn't be easy, and I needed to use all the resources at my disposal to get it done. If it was as important as the higher-ups in the Guild had made it sound, then they had to give me a hand.
Right?
...
The chatter in the cistern was much quieter than usual. I tapped the nearest thief's shoulder, which turned out to be Niruin. "Have you seen Brynjolf?" The Bosmer lowered his bow and pointed to the rooms in the back.
"I think he went into the back for more training. He said something about needing lockpicking practice."
"Ah. Thank you, I appreciate it." Niruin nodded and returned to his stance facing the training dummy.
"Anytime, Russet." A thud came from the dummy along with a small spray of dust and straw as Niruin's arrow flew right into its center. It was a perfect bullseye. "Oh, and one more thing." He nocked another arrow. "Make sure you go into the training area and not the storage room."
"Oh?"
The Wood Elf released the arrow, again nailing the training dummy in the middle. "Saph and Dirge went into the storage area again." He pressed his tongue against his cheek. "They think they're being sneaky about it, but they're... not subtle." I bit my lip, slightly amused.
"Sounds fun." I gave Niruin a thumbs-up. "Thanks again." I headed off in the direction of the training room, passing Mercer along the way. To my complete and utter surprise- note the sarcasm- he didn't bother looking my way and continued looking through a handful of papers.
I knocked on the training room's door before swinging it open. "Brynjolf?" My eyes had gone to the boxes first, expecting him to be picking locks, as Niruin had stated.
"Over here, lass." Brynjolf's voice beckoned me to the far side of the room opposite the lockpicking set. "Need something?"
"Yeah, I just-" I choked on my words, eyes wide with shock. Cuirass abandoned, Bryn rested against the wall, a glass bottle of mead in one hand and a knife in the other. Sweat beaded his face and stained his thin shirt, and his breathing was uneven. Forcing myself out of my stupor, I redirected my eyes to his face. His expression was more than slightly mischievous, and I felt my cheeks burning like dragonfire. "I-I wanted to know if I could have help regarding the Goldenglow job."
Brynjolf frowned. "Technically, since this is your assessment, you're supposed to do it on your own."
"I am doing it on my own," I insisted. "I'm just using my available resources, of which you are a rather significant one, to complete the required job in a timely manner." After a moment, Brynjolf let out a laugh.
"I suppose I can't argue with that." He stood up straight and stretched out, cracking the joints in his back. His sweat-soaked shirt lifted to show off a light trail of hair leading down from his navel, and I felt my cheeks burn once again. "What can I do for you?"
I beckoned for Brynjolf to follow me. "Come on. I need your help on a heist. If I want it done sooner as opposed to later, I'll need a henchman."
"Oh, a henchman? Is that what I am?" Brynjolf stood up straight. "I'll make a deal with you, lass."
"Here we go."
The Nord rolled his eyes. "Like I said, technically, you're supposed to do this on your own. But so long as you're not asking me to come with you to Goldenglow and do half the job for you, then I'll help. And," he said with his pointer finger up, "you'll owe me."
I scrunched up my nose, and upon remembering Brynjolf pointing it out, quickly dropped it. He'd obviously noticed and smiled in amusement, though did not comment on it. I spoke hastily, trying to bring the focus back onto the contract. "What exactly would I owe you?" I queried, remaining suspicious.
"Hmm... I suppose I'll let you know when I figure it out." He calmly watched me think it over, annoyance with the Nord growing. An open favor could be dangerous, but he'd had my back the entire time I'd been with the Guild, so I could probably trust him not to make me do anything too awful.
Rolling my eyes, I relented with a groan. "Fine. I'll owe you a favor."
"Excellent. Give me a moment." He reached for his cuirass, the armor laying abandoned near the targets. As he slipped it on, his smirk told me he knew I was watching. "What, enjoying the view, lass?"
I snorted forcibly. "As if. I'm just waiting for you to move your ass." He finished buckling his cuirass, laughing to himself. It was obvious he didn't believe me. My sharp canines dug into my tongue as I bit down, desperate to get my mind back to the present. "Come on, Bryn." Gesturing to the door, I took the lead, almost slamming into my favorite female Nord thief just inside the cistern.
"What are you doing in the Guild instead of Goldenglow?" Sapphire snarled. "Don't think we don't know what your contract is." Looking at her swollen lips, I knew exactly how to respond.
"What are you doing coming from the back room with Dirge?" I countered, prepared for a verbal battle. "Don't think I don't know what you've been doing back there. A training session? One-handed or two-handed?" Sapphire's cheeks flushed red as Dirge strode past her, his clothes just as ruffled as hers. "You might want to brush your hair, Saph." I patted down a few tangled strands. She glared at me with intense hate and slapped my hand away.
"W-well, why are you and- and Brynjolf- he-" she blustered, more than slightly embarrassed as a few other Guild members took an interest in our conversation.
I couldn't help but laugh at Sapphire's sad attempt to turn the focus (and shame) on me. "Believe me, if he and I were up to anything..." I leaned in to stage-whisper. "We'd be a lot more covert than this." I straightened up and feigned disappointment. "But in the cistern? Really, Saph? Besides, I have to say, I'd thought you'd have better taste than Dir-"
"Enough!" Sapphire screamed, storming away with a shout of fury. I watched her go with an amused grin, reflecting on the irony that if she hadn't drawn attention to herself, I most likely wouldn't have bothered with her. Her mistake was a rookie one; I'd learned long ago how to keep even the more innocent things a secret.
I pressed myself against the wall, holding my breath in the hopes that we wouldn't get caught. I met the pale gray eyes of the man next to me, and his amused smile was contagious. I had to press my hands to my mouth to avoid laughing, which would most certainly bring attention to us. Although Skjor paused for a moment, he continued with a sigh.
The dark-haired Nord beside me continued to grin. "That was interesting," he said in an excited tone, to which I nudged his shoulder roughly.
"Keep it down," I whispered. "Skjor's still nearby."
"What, you think someone's going to catch us?" he laughed, touching my cheek tenderly.
"Who'd have thought a big Nord like you would be such a sweetheart?" I teased.
"I might have said the same thing about you, Russ." He pecked my lips sweetly, which I returned in earnest. "You know, you're the only one who doesn't treat me like I'm some halfwit."
I found myself laughing and kissed him again. "Then they're the halfwits." He wrapped me in a tight, breath-stopping hug. I suppressed a wheeze when he set me back down. "Come on, that giant won't get rid of itself. Let's go, Farkas."
I motioned for Brynjolf to follow me. "Not up the ladder," I said, tugging his arm a bit. "Through the Ratway. It'll be faster." Vipir the Fleet stopped us after a few steps. He eyed Brynjolf and me up and down, scratching his chin in interest.
"Say, any truth to Sapphire's stammering statement?" Vipir wondered, wearing a sly smirk.
"To answer your aggravating alliteration, absolutely not," I replied, rolling my eyes. "Believe me when I say that romance with an associate never ends well, so shut up."
The thief held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. Calm down, Russet." He watched Sapphire walk away out of the corner of his eye. "Although a roll in the hay doesn't have to count as 'romance.'" He used air quotes around the final word, showing his disdain for the concept.
"Just get out of my way," I muttered, well frustrated. I didn't hate anyone in the Guild- except for Mercer, and maybe Sapphire- but a good number had been pissing me off lately.
Through the secret cupboard doorway, over the tiny wooden walkway, and finally out of the Flagon, Brynjolf and I remained in relative silence. The drawbridge outside in the Ratway was down, and he pulled the lever to allow me to go across first. He broke the stillness with a question so unexpected it cut me to the core and had me choking on my own breath.
"Who's Farkas?"
