Author's Note: So, enough of quest-line. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I don't know if I can keep up the pace of adding chapters but we'll see. Read, enjoy, and review please!

The Missing Orphan

A week in Riften and I had learned nothing new. It wasn't as if I could go around asking "Do you know my father?" and I was reluctant to let anyone try to identify the writing of the letter that had changed my life, it seemed to personal. So the only thing I could really do was make my presence known (the dragon that attacked at my entrance took care of that) and ask where I could find somebody who might have more information. The answer was always the same: The Thieves' Guild. And to gain access I would have to join.

Which of course I refused to do. So I was trying a different method.

"Look, I can't tell you anything you don't already know. The Black-Briar's are wonderful, and Maven is their matriarch. She's really well-connected and a lovely lady. Please, just, just leave me alone," the bartender said or the third time.

"I'm not looking for dirt on them I just want to know if you think there would be any information they would have about this letter-sender. Do they have connections in Cyrodiil, have you heard of anyone leaving Skyrim?"

Finally he decided not to answer me. I didn't figure he would. Frustrated my fingers twitched over the concealed dagger. I preferred swords but it was always nice to have "something up my sleeve." There was no one else in the meadery and all it would take was a little intimidation to get some information, any information. I could tell there was something he wasn't saying.

I heard voices outside before I could push my conscious too far. I glared at him before exiting, walking straight past two large men boasting about something or other.

Frustrated I sat on the wall and looked out over the lake. Just a little further from the city was the Morrowind border. My quest was close to failing, I had come all this way and had nothing to show for it except for a destiny I wasn't sure I even wanted. I couldn't leave though, not now, not yet. Even if I really wanted to, there were dragons, and everyone needed me to be here, even if they didn't know it.

I heard rustling in the bushes behind me and turned my head slightly, not trying to tip off the spy that I'd heard. Sure enough someone was hidden in the bushes, a dirty little face. The child raised its finger to its lips, its eyes full of terror, indicating I should be quiet. So she was hiding but not from me.

"You little wretch, come back here this instant!"

An old woman rounded the corner looking just about as terrifying as an ice wolf. "You, there, on the wall, have you seen a stupid little orphan girl? She seems to have run away."

"I think I saw someone shouting about a stolen boat about, mmm, four minutes ago. If that was her she'd probably be in Morrowind by now. Sorry," I said.

"Damn, well good riddance I say! I won't look pay for that thief's things. I never knew her, you got that? If anyone asks, she wasn't one of mine," she said.

"Wouldn't want to interfere."

She huffed and went back inside. I didn't say anything to the little girl, not wanting to frighten her. Finally, like a wild cat, she timidly approached me.

"Thanks. I'm Lynn," the girl said.

"Hello Lynn. I'm Everlee."

"I know who you are. You're the stranger in town that saved us from the dragon. Everyone knows who you are."

"I suppose so. So what are your plans Lynn?"

"Um I hadn't thought about it," she said nervously, shifting side to side. I estimated she couldn't be older than ten years old.

I nodded. "Well, how about I take you to dinner outside the city?"

After setting up camp a few miles east of the city, Lynn fell asleep on the spare bedroll with little hesitation. When she awoke I was cooking the game I had hunted down as she slept. As the warm food began to make her feel better, the eight-year-old Lynn opened up very quickly.

"What are dragons like? Do they all breathe fire? I hear some don't. Have you been to see the Greybeards? What is Whiterun like? You're from Cyrodiil? That's so cool!"

I answered her questions as best I could. I had never dealt with kids but I found her constant questions amusing rather than annoying. I wasn't sure what I would do with Lynn, what we would do. Being Dragonborn is kind of a dangerous thing to be when you're towing a kid around (or at all). I tried not to think about it. I was in Riften until I knew more anyway.

Finally one question caught me off guard:

"So was Grelod in charge when you were at Honorhall or was it someone else? It had to be someone else because you got adopted, but did she, like work there then?"

"I didn't go to Honorhall. I'm from Cyrodiil, like I said."

"But you were born here right? I mean, that's what the papers said –"

"Papers?"

"Yeah, the office records. Grelod keeps 'em locked up but when she goes out sometimes I pick the door and go in there. It's interesting to look through them."

"And you saw a paper with my name on it?"

"Yes, Everlee, half-Breton, born in Riften twenty five years ago. You were left there seven days after you were born. It didn't say the ladies name and it didn't say you were adopted but there weren't any records of you past one years old so I figured that's what happened. When I heard you were in town I knew your name sounded familiar so I went and looked at your file again."

I sat in silence again. Lynn saw a paper with my name. My name wasn't common in Skyrim or anywhere in the Empire as far as I knew. Even if it were, how many half-Bretons named Everlee that were twenty five could there be?

So either there was some big mix-up or…or what? I didn't really want to think about it. I was adopted? Well, at least that's what Lynn said she assumed. I tried to think of my mom, Elyssa, kidnapping me from an orphanage. My mom was sweet and proper and I couldn't picture it at all. Yeah, sometimes she got scary-protective with some intense magic when her guild was threatened, but kidnapping? No. So, so what? Was she my real mom or did she adopt me?

There was no way to ask her now. Getting mail out of Skyrim had become impossible in the month I had been here. I had sent her a letter assuring my arrival but the carrier had warned me that would be the last week he'd be able to get in and out of Skyrim. The Legion was cracking down because of Ulfric's escape from custody and the arrival of dragons.

That left me with one option, I had to find out on my own.

"The office, is that the only place Grelod keeps papers on the orphanage?" I asked.

Lynn shook her head. "Nah, she wouldn't want anyone getting her hands on our own papers or we could get adopted, that was the first thing I looked for. I think she keeps some in the basement, in a safe, but I can't pick the lock to the safe so," Lynn shrugged.

"And you don't think she'd let me see what's down there?" I asked, this seemed obvious but I needed to be sure.

"No, some people ask for their papers when they age-out of Honorhall but she says she'd rather be dead then let anyone but her see what's down there. Even Constance hasn't been down there and she's been there longer than any of us kids."

I nodded and let the topic switch as Lynn continued her steady flow of questions about my adventures in Skyrim so far. As she chatted I prepared myself mentally for what I knew I needed to do. I needed the information Grelod kept secret. I needed to know who my parents were and why I had disappeared from an orphanage, how I had ended up there and how I had left. And there was only one way I was going to get it: lockpicking.

I had to become a thief.