Thanks to 16DarkMidnight80 for going over this chapter!

-K-

When I was in Cyrodiil, making my lonely way up north, everyone said "don't go to Riften." They never said why. So naturally, curiosity being what it is, I ignored Whiterun when I got to Skyrim and headed straight for Riften to see what was so weird, bad, or made it otherwise an un-recommended destination.

I think most people were thinking of the fact that it's partially built over water, and that there are fisheries in Lake Honrich. So there are smells around Riften that take a little getting used to. I'm not sure word of the corruption would get out outside the Province; it's not the sort of thing people want visitors knowing about before they arrive. And if the Thieves Guild was known country-wide for having their headquarters somewhere, surely someone law-abiding and dedicated would try to put a stop to it.

So arriving in Whiterun with Sapphire was my first time seeing the city. I was impressed with how different, and yet reminiscent, of Riften it was in terms of the buildings. Whiterun itself was built on a large kind of hill, in the middle of a sweeping plain, surrounded by farmland and fallow fields. The city itself had a cobbled main street that twisted east then north through the city's various districts, up to the local lord's palace of Dragonsreach.

Yarl. The word they use here is Yarl.

I liked the steep peaked roofs with their almost dragonscale-like shingling. I also noticed many of the roofs featured small wooden dragon heads here or there. There were rumors, starting last year, that dragons had returned to Skyrim. I don't know if I buy it. I haven't seen any since I got here.

We had a choice between the Drunken Huntsman and the Bannered Mare for dinner. I figured, since we were staying at the Mare, we should eat there. The food was excellent, the ambiance boisterous without being too much. Of course, Sapphire brooded in the corner as she will, but at least she played dice with me.

As did several other people who wanted to try their luck with two such pretty ladies—or their coin.

We took them for all they were worth and smiled the whole time. Well, I smiled.

-K-

Solitude was an amazing city compared to Whiterun or Riften. Massive and sprawling, the capital of Skyrim seemed to throw open its arms to the rest of the Province as if to say 'here I am!' The city was built partly on a natural stone bridge, and partly on the cliffs facing it, which was a strange place to put a city. It looked very much as if someone—a god or a Daedra—had stood high in the sky and decided to sink the city into the top of this mountain.

At the foot of the stone feature upon which the city was built were the docks and warehouses of businesses that made use of the river below, which ran out into the sea. Products and cargo made their ways up and down from the city not by the roads—which would have been ridiculous, with that long incline and sharp turn at the bottom—but by a series of massive lifts by which the cargo was raised and lowered from the city.

Solitude was also a prosperous city, having not one but two castles—Castle Dour, where the Legion was, and the Blue Palace where the Yarl lived. Elisif the Fair was Yarl in Solitude, and I had to wonder if she got the nickname because she really was pretty… or because she wasn't.

The mercantile district, right as you came in through the main gates, was sprawling… and well-patrolled by the city watch, with their red sashes of office, wolf-crested shields, and sharp-looking swords.

Sapphire and I did not stay at the inn—the Winking Skeever, what a name! Rather, she led me off the main thoroughfare to a secluded little spot, and down into the sewers through a porthole hidden by a large bush. It was a short walk from the porthole to a kind of warren that put me in mind of the Ragged Flagon, only not so welcoming and cheerful. In fact, it had the distinct aura of disuse and neglect.

"We can stay here for the night," she declared, tossing down her bedroll.

I didn't ask her why she didn't want to stay at the inn, just accepted that she didn't. "I would have thought this place wouldn't be so… well…"

"In disrepair?" Sapphire asked bluntly. She shrugged, then lay down on her bedroll.

I threw mine nearby. It was early to go to bed, but we'd be up and about later, casing our prospective targets, so we'd need the sleep.

"That's because no one uses it much these days." Sapphire rolled onto her side—back to me—crossing her arms across her chest, and curled up a little. It was her usual defensive hummock she made while sleeping.

Sapphire has nightmares. I don't wonder why. I'd never tell her, but I haven't slept well on this trip because of them. Strangely, I hadn't noticed them being quite so bad while we were in Riften. Maybe being out of her home city bothers her, makes her feel less safe.

"You might as well know," she continued, "the Guild's in a bit of a slump."

"A slump?"

"Delvin calls it a curse, but what's he know?" She's very derisive of all fortunetelling and superstitions.

"I dunno. What kind of slump?"

Sapphire gave a sour laugh. "It's like what can go wrong will go wrong. I'm surprised you didn't pick Bryn and get away clean, things have been that rotten." She sighed. "I remember when the Guild used to have fingers all through Skyrim. I wasn't with them, then."

"Who were you with?" I asked hesitantly. There was nothing in her tone to suggest I shouldn't ask, but I felt nervous prying.

"I was with the Dark Brotherhood."

"No," I gaped. I felt myself actually gaping, like a moron, at her back.

Sapphire turned enough to look back at me, then laughed—this time, less sourly. She rolled on to her other side, grinning lopsidedly at my dumbfounded expression. "You look like such an idiot."

"I feel like such an idiot. You were Dark Brotherhood?" The Dark Brotherhood, everyone knows, is a death cult masquerading as a guild of assassins. They're the rest of the Empire's version of the legitimate Morag Tong in Morrowind—although the Brotherhood and the Tong hate each other, for reasons best known to themselves. The Brotherhood is actually thought to be an offshoot of the Tong, and grew to prominence when the Tong overly-dramatically murdered some highly-placed political figure, drawing to themselves way too much negative attention. They cut a deal with the Morrowindan government to keep operating legally in Morrowind—where they still exist—but the Brotherhood was able to spread out through the rest of the Empire, taking up the slack because apparently there's enough need for assassins that a guild thereof can perpetuate itself if it doesn't have much competition.

Rumor has it they can be summoned at the dark of the moon (which moon, I'm not sure, there are two after all) by performing the Black Sacrament… not that I know anything about that. I'm not sure I could kill anyone, but I'm also pretty sure I couldn't hire assassins to do it for me, either! My skin crawled at the thought of the Dark Brotherhood.

She shrugged. "I was angry, and I was good at killing. But I didn't enjoy it. For a while, I thought I did… but I didn't. As—, er, the Sanctuary Mistress was the one who noticed I tended to burglarize my marks, and she eventually suggested I join the Thieves Guild. At first, I wouldn't hear of it… but I eventually changed my mind."

I got the impression this Sanctuary Mistress person had Sapphire sit down and chat with Bryn for a few minutes. He could talk Sanguine out of his teeth…

…or he can while wearing the Amulet of Articulation. Apparently, that's how he manages as a snake oil salesman when it's known he's just selling snake oil.

"Wow. They're real." I knew they were, but it sounded like the right thing to say.

Sapphire chuckled again. "Yes, Kitty, they're real. I'd stay away from them, if I was you. You don't look like you've got the killing blood in you."

"You think?"

"You squeak too easy. And you're too… you-like." It didn't sound like an insult, but rather the good advice of a good friend.

I laughed. "Well, I'll accept your former-professional opinion, then! Good thing I joined the Thieves Guild. If we're murdering people, we're doing it wrong!" I honestly believe that. She who squeaks and runs away, lives to filch another day, after all. "Tell me more about this dry spell, though."

"What's to tell?" Sapphire rolled onto her other side again. "It's just a run of bad luck—if you believe in bad luck. It'll turn around, sooner or later." But she didn't sound entirely convinced, neither of her assertion that it would turn around, nor in her derision of something as superstitious as 'luck.'

Soured luck? Unease prickled along my spine. We do not need sour luck around here!

-K-

Sapphire fell asleep before I did, with the result that as I was starting to drift to sleep, her nightmares started.

I'd been reading by the light of a crystal that shone red, which I wear around my neck. It was a gift from Mother, because she knew I liked to read, and sometimes you don't want a light that will disturb anyone else in the room. Also, red doesn't mess with your night-eyes as much as any other color will.

But I'd put my book—The Wraith's Wedding Dowry—aside, and after about ten minutes, the twitches and stifled protest sounded.

"Sapphire. Sapphire," I called quietly, shaking my red reading crystal until it shone brightly in my hand. On the fifth call, she woke with a gasp, her breath heaving, eyes darting around.

She mumbled a curse, then ran her hands through her hair.

I didn't know what to do to help. I wasn't at all sure giving her a big hug would help. In fact, I thought it might make things worse; maybe she wouldn't want to be touched by anyone just now.

Sapphire said nothing, but disappeared for about ten minutes, then came back with a jug of mead and a large piece of a meat pie. She set the drink and the pie—with forks—between us, using one fork to cut the big slice in half.

We ate and drank in silence.

"Didn't mean to wake you," she grunted, before settling on her side again, back to me.

"You didn't. I was up late, reading," I assured her.

"Anything good?" Her tone was total disinterest, but I got the impression she just wanted a real voice to listen to.

"Yeah. It's an adventure-romance."

Sapphire scoffed softly.

"An Orc wrote it, originally." I inched my bedroll a little closer to hers. "Hey. Roll over."

"Why?"

"Just do it, okay?"

Sapphire sighed… then slowly rolled over.

I put my red reading crystal between us on the floor, then put my hand between our bedrolls.

Sapphire looked at the hand doubtfully, but resumed her curled up huddle facing me rather than the wall. "So tell me about this stupid story of yours." The words came out petulantly, but if it was so stupid… why was she interested?

So I gave her a rambling (probably shambolic) account of the story, eventually falling silent as sleep began to drag at my eyelids. Before I dropped off, a cold hand curled up shyly underneath my warmer one. "I'll read it to you, sometime if you like," I slurred.

There was no answer, but I didn't need one.

-K-

As much as I would have loved to have a clandestine look around the Blue Palace… I wasn't at all sure a first-timer with the Guild should try such an auspicious target her first time out. Namely, it would be awful if I got caught. Embarrassing and awful. The Guild can get you out of trouble in Riften, but elsewhere… not so much. Our reduced circumstances and presence in Skyrim apparently have also reduced our ability to safeguard our members when they venture out.

Well. If I get caught, I'm doing it wrong, right?

The plan was, we'd each make our hit then meet back up in the Warren to compare notes.

So in the interests of sure success versus high risk, high reward, I went with a much less exalted target, the home of one of Solitude's Thanes, Bryling.

Sapphire? She went after a place called the Bard's College, cool as you please.

By dawn, we were both back in the Warren, each with our takings.

"So, let's find a fence!" I declared, regarding the takings, and mentally trying to calculate how much I had.

"That's the trick, Kitty the Cat Burglar," Sapphire smirked. "There's no fence until we get back to Riften. Remember? Reduced circumstances?"

My jaw dropped. I felt it drop. "No fences anywhere? How did that happen!?" You didn't need to be a member of the Guild to be a fence, after all! I thought there were always folks who were willing to take a little risk to make a little coin!

Sapphire shrugged. "Like I said last night. The Guild's having trouble. We've lost a lot of ground."

"That means we have to go somewhere else, somewhere the shopkeeps won't know stuff is stolen," I groaned. The less recognizable loot can be passed this way, but if it does come up as stolen, there's a good chance I'd be recognized…

…or maybe not. Fair eyes aren't that uncommon here…

…who am I trying to fool? I'm short in a land of tall people! Drat it all!

"Yeah. Do you think you have enough to pay for your new equipment?"

Unlike her, I hadn't worn my grey official guild armor, preferring to wear plain clothes and a swathe of black cloth wrapped over my face and hair. I didn't trust the heavy, bulky material not to play me a trick, and Mother always said, when in doubt of a costume, less was more…

…but she didn't mean it in a tart-like fashion. Fluttering ribbons or trailing veils were more what she had in mind.

However, I had brought the armor, just in case I found someone who could work on it. No sense wasting time getting it fixed up when I needed more than just dark clothes for the Goldenglow job. If Vex—who had her shadowy Thieves Guild armor on when she tried it—had problems, I'm not dumb enough to try the job plainclothes. No way.

"Not that I see why you need it," Sapphire continued.

"I told everyone—I can't move. If I'm walking around like this—" I performed an immediate stiff pantomime of how I felt the one time I slithered into that armor, "I'll surely be caught, without any effort on anyone's part—luck or no luck!"

Sapphire shifted, then looked away from me. I've noticed, when she's trying to be nice—relative to herself—she doesn't like to look at the person she's being nice to. Like she's ashamed of it, or doesn't want anyone to realize that she can be nice. "I know a guy in Windhelm. Leatherworker. We should talk to him. You can pick up a few extra trinkets there to help pay for whatever you're looking for, if you need to."

"Really? There's not another leatherworker in Riften?"

"Felimal doesn't just work leather. He enchants it, too," Sapphire said carefully, as if she didn't want to reveal too much, but understood some explanation was necessary.

It mattered that she didn't seem to want to lie to me, which she could easily have done. Maybe even 'could more easily have done.'

"If you can pay for it. And he's not… unfamiliar… with the kinds of enchantments our line of work… or others… requires. I'd trust my life to his work."

My mouth dropped open again, bypassing the fact that she apparently trusted this guy with my life, too. "Are you saying he's the one supplying… the Guild?" It wasn't the Guild I was thinking of, but her previous employers.

"No—your eyes are bugging. It's not a good look on you."

They probably were. She just offered to introduce me—unless I'm much mistaken—to the guy who handles the Dark Brotherhood's kit! Guess he's no fan of the Morag Tong… or maybe he's just not picky about clients. "Let's go!" I bounced to my feet excitedly.

-K-

Windhelm was… well. It wasn't friendly-looking, that's for sure. But it was full of twisty little alleyways. If you've got a head for directions and tracking back along the way you came—which I have, reasonably—it was a great place to be.

Sapphire led us into what she called 'the Grey Quarter,' which was a dimly lit kind of slum on the eastern side of the city. The residences were mostly over shops, and everything seemed packed in tightly. The extra height to the buildings was part of the reason the light wasn't good, and I didn't see any city watchmen wandering around the slushy, decrepit streets.

The Purple Gauntlet was next door to 'Lolinah, Seamstress'(her business didn't have any kind of cute name), and looked as shabby as one could expect. Or maybe the dim light just didn't show off his signboard to its best effect. Sapphire went straight in, pausing to kick the doorframe gently with her toe.

When I looked, I found a small marking etched into the frame, two interlocking circles drawn over a diamond. It looked like the beginning of a bawdy drawing, if anyone were to ask my opinion.

"Felimal!" she called, by way of announcing our arrival.

A middle-aged mer sitting at a table, over and around which hung many bright light-crystals, like my reading crystal, only with a bright daylight color to them, straightened up. All across the workspace were pieces of leather and tools. "Hello, sera," he said cautiously.

"Kitty here needs some leatherwork done. I told her you were the best," Sapphire said simply, then found a chair and plopped into it.

"Indeed?" the mer got to his feet, still watching Sapphire with some caution.

She pretended not to notice, but gave her attention to the fat tabby that jumped into her lap.

"Yes. I have a suit of armor I need adjusted to fit me… but Sapphire here says you might be able to make me something from scratch. Something… sneaky."

"Of course I can, but will I?" the mer asked, handling the tape measure hanging around his neck idly.

Sapphire ignored this question, too, the cat purring happily in her lap.

"…I don't know. Will you?" When in doubt, ask the obvious questions.

Felimal looked me up and down, his red eyes narrowed with speculation. "She's Guild?" he asked Sapphire, who nodded once. More silent introspection. "I'll make you a trade. I'll adjust your armor, whatever is wrong with it, for a nominal fee—covering materials, you understand—if you assist a friend of mine. Sadri had some freelancing miscreant sell him something he shouldn't have. Sort it out for him, and I'll sort you out."

Sapphire watched the negotiations from beneath her lashes, but gave no indication whether it was a good deal or not.

Well, just materials, and all I have to do is sort out a little matter of what sounds like… like something I was about to do myself. Make an honest merchant my patsy.

Although I'm smart enough to fence items from one Hold in completely different one, so there's less chance of anything recognizable being recognized. "Let's go see your friend. He might not want to trust just anyone."

Felimal smiled thinly. "Young woman, you have no idea. Help yourself to tea, sera," he directed to Sapphire.

"Bring her back safely, Felimal," Sapphire declared as pleasantly as she ever sounds.

"Of course. But as I can't guarantee her work…" he shrugged, then wrapped himself in a long cloak.

"Why the Purple Gauntlet?" I asked, as soon as we were outside.

"Because, in Dunmeris, the words rhyme, and are an allusion to a very famous epic poem," Felimal answered briskly. He walked us through the twisty maze of the Grey Quarter.

I'm glad I have a head for directions, or I'd have quickly gotten lost. Give me a few days (or nights) to wander around, and I'd know these streets as well as anyone.

Felimal opened a door and entered the shop beyond. I followed, peering about. "Sadri, a private word?"

Sadri, another Dunmer (the Grey Quarter did seem to boast a lot of Dunmer-sounding names or business names), looked surprised, but nodded. "We're quite alone at the moment."

"This young woman may be able to help you with your… little difficulty," Felimal announced.

Sadri looked wary and hopeful at the same time. He looked me over the same way Falimal had, as if trying to decide what sort of person I was. "…and you'll vouch for her?"

"If she wants her armor adjusted, she won't foul it up," Falimal answered.

"I think that's a nice way of saying 'no, but what choice do you have?'" I announced cheerfully, sauntering up to the counter and leaning on it, as I would against a bar. "Come on," I coaxed. "Tell this pretty Kitty what's the matter."

Sadri sighed, then reached under the counter. He set on the wooden surface a golden ring, set with a cluster of amethysts. "I bought this in good faith a week ago," he said, regarding it morosely. "A few days ago, I heard that Viola Giordano is missing a ring matching its description."

"Awkward." I frowned. "…you can't just tell the city watch you found it in the mud?"

Both mer laughed sourly.

Looking from one to the other, my brows knit together. "Look, I'm new to Skyrim, so obviously there's something funny there."

"Windhelm is tolerant of Dunmer—nothing more," Felimal began.

"Tolerant!" Sadri sneered. "Barely tolerant. If I were to do as you suggest, I'd be arrested for stealing it in the first place—even if I had had nothing to do with it."

I looked between the two Mer, not sure I believed what I was hearing.

It may seem odd for a thief—such as I've become—to respect the city watch, but they do have a purpose. They keep the murderous footpads in check, and most of the time keep the peace when if they didn't, you'd have people stabbing one another in the back or doing Daedra only know what mischief when they think they can get away with it, and the streets would be impossible for decent folk to traverse once the sun goes down. I might flout them, but I wouldn't want to actually cross them. So, for me, to hear the city watch here was so unfair… well. Disappointing is one word.

"They don't believe in good citizens?" I asked meekly.

The two Dunmer snorted again. "Not if that citizen's ears point, or his skin is grey," Sadri answered. "I've been here two hundred years, longer than any of those s'wits have been alive, and it's still not good enough." He huffed softly, then cleared his throat. "Excuse me. It… rankles. You understand."

"No, it's fine—that's awful! Is it-is it really that widespread?"

"In Windhelm it begins at the top and works its way down," Felimal answered.

I wasn't sure what to do with this information, to be honest. So I put it away and returned to the business at hand. A reverse robbery. "You said this belonged to whom?" I asked, picking up the ring, watching the light twinkle in the amethysts.

"Viola Giordano. She lives on the west side of town," Sadri said. "If you can just plant it somewhere in her house…"

I held up the ring, then palmed it. "Plant what? There's nothing dodgy here. Never was—I can smell a respectable business when I enter one. It smells like wood, aged leather, dust and sometimes nice liquor." With a wink, I turned on my heel to exit the shop.

"You might be careful, sera," Sadri called as I reached for the door.

"Oh?"

"In Windhelm, no one but Nords are really welcome. Forgive me for mentioning it, but you don't have the native look, either."

I glanced back over my shoulder, grinning. "Ah, Master Sadri, as I don't really belong anywhere, I make myself at home just about everywhere."

The two mer shook their heads, as if they found my overconfidence refreshing… and my naiveté a little sad.

Well, they don't know me. I've been making myself at home in strange places for years.

-K-

After leaving Sadri's shop—Sadri's Used Wares, by Sadri Revyn, according to the signboard—I headed out of the Grey Quarter and into Windhelm proper. I'll admit, the city watch didn't seem particularly friendly, but maybe it was just the cold and the snow that put them out of humor. It'd put me out of humor, if I had to trudge around in the wet and the cold all day, with snow seeping into my boots.

It didn't surprise me that the guards in Riften are as corrupt as you can get; the Guild is there. The Thieves Guild could hardly headquarter itself in a city that was a paragon of law and virtue. But hearing the two mer assuring me of the level of intolerance in Windhelm left me wanting to see for myself if it was true.

Not that me not finding trouble would be proof that there wasn't a problem. It would just mean the watch didn't want to mess with a girl like me. I suppose it would make them look like bullies, when I'm such a bit of a thing.

I didn't run into any trouble, though for a gold coin I got the exact location of Viola Giordano's house out of one of the beggars clustered at the large basin of fire outside the inn, Candlehearth. Beggars know things. They may not want to volunteer, but if you pay for information like it was any other commodity, you can learn some very interesting—and potentially useful—things.

I like to read. I read The Beggar Prince, and The Adventures of the Grey Fox.

It was a big house, so clearly Windhelm wasn't so intolerant that someone with an Imperial-sounding name couldn't own a nice house in the posh district—bearing in mind that there was a war with the Legion on. You'd think any intolerance would be aimed at Imperials, or people who look Imperial, not at Dunmer.

After casing the house discreetly, I headed to Candlehearth for a drink, and to listen to the locals. Come nightfall, I'd slip back out and stash the ring somewhere inconspicuous but easy to find.

This Giordano woman should have her shiny back by tomorrow morning. No problem.

-K-

Author's Note: Please excuse Kitty's ignorance; she's never seen 'Jarl' written down, so she's only ever heard it pronounced, and she's not from Skyrim, unlike the rest of my published heroines, so she doesn't know any better. That's why she assumes it's spelled with a Y, because the 'sometimes J is a Y' convention seems to be particular to Skyrim.

I left Brynjolf's name (and any other names that use the 'y' sound for a 'j' letter) alone for ease of reading; I tried keeping the phonetic rule, but worried that it would be more immersive than was comfortable for a reader. However, in Kitty's mind, she does spell it 'Brinnyolf.'

So, I shall leave person-names alone, as I said, for your ease, but place-names and Jarl will continue be spelled phonetically until Kitty is eventually acquainted with the proper spellings. It shouldn't take long; as she told us herself, she likes to read.