Author's Note: Thanks so much for reviewing/commenting. Sorry I couldn't get to this sooner, tests and whatnot. I know, sore excuse but I swear I'm working on it. Ok, so….onward.

Run

I ran out of the shack and into the forest. I continued on, unthinking, not slowing until some logical part of my brain told me this was a good way to end up dead. I stopped, or well, collapsed under a large tree then. It took all my will not to break down or lash at the wildlife around me.

After a few minutes I took in my surroundings. Daylight, somewhere around eleven in the morning. I wasn't sure which morning, but at least that would give me some time before nightfall to find where I was. I couldn't help remembering the last few days before I had entered Skyrim, starving and wandering the woods, how there had been no game.

I stood up and started walking east. An hour later I found myself recognizing the forest around me. I was still in the Rift. I'd been in this very area hunting two nights before. I sighed in relief, knowing that camp was only another two hours or so from me.

I could just see my tent through the trees when I spotted him. Red hair held back and leaning casually against a tree as if this was as natural a surrounding as his stall or The Ragged Flagon. I marveled at how Brynjolf managed to look confident and blend in anywhere he went. His arms were folded over his chest and he was staring up at the sky, not having heard me yet. Or perhaps he had.

I walked up to him and he looked down at me.

"You're alive," he said. I couldn't tell what he was feeling, his tone seemed to indicate too many things, that he was impressed, shocked, certain, relieved?

"I am." He didn't say anything to this, just stared at me with a frustratingly blank expression. Eventually I continued, "You're alive."

His face changed miraculously, a slow grin working on his face. "I am." Finally he straightened and his face grew serious. He looked long and hard at my face before giving me a once over. "And you're unharmed."

"Were you worried?"

He shrugged and the left corner of his mouth rose. "I guess I was."

"How long was I gone?"

"Just the night. I came to your camp to look after Lynn."

"Is she ok?" I asked.

"She's fine now. The little lass is awfully attached to you, cried herself sick with worry even when I told her you'd be fine and then wore herself out somewhere in the early hours. Been asleep since."

I sighed. "This is no life for her but I made her a promise."

"It's better than the life she had."

"Until I die and leave her again."

"I think it'll take more than one assassin to take you down lass," Bryjolf said. "Besides, I forbid it."

I snorted. "Oh, well now that that's taken care of. And what of her? What happens when an enemy comes after her, or a bear, or I don't know, an avalanche? What then? This isn't safe."

"Well, stay away from mountain peaks," Brynjolf said, his mouth in a broad smile now.

Irritated I glared at him. "You're impossible."

He laughed again and to my surprise put an arm around my shoulder, so we were both facing camp. I tensed but he seemed perfectly relaxed. "Life is dangerous lass. There's nothing you can do about that. You do the best with what you've got. If you hadn't come along Lynn would likely be out here starving or injured if not by now. She wasn't staying where she was. You just gave her somewhere to go."

I took a deep breath and pulled away from him. His arm fell easily by his side. We stood there awhile facing camp for a long length of time.

Grudgingly I finally said, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Brynjolf said then moved to stand in front of me again. "So, how are you alive?"

"The Dark Brotherhood were so fond of your motto, "We're not the Dark Brotherhood," that they changed their name to Rainbow Party. Now they kidnap you and give you lollies," I said. I wondered if deflecting questions with humor was something Brynjolf brought out in me.

"Ah, and here I was worried that you were bleeding out on the floor of some warehouse and you don't even bring one back, tsk," Brynjolf replied, much lighter and easier than my own joke.

I didn't say anything.

"So you're not going to talk about it then. I'll just have to assume they recruited you," Brynjolf said.

There was something odd in his tone that made me turn to him. His normal easy-smile wasn't there, or the smirk, or even the careful blank expression he took on when questioning me.

"And what if they have?" I asked him.

He still didn't turn to face me.

"Does that bother you?"

Nothing.

"You're both breaking the law. You both have a tendency for bodies to trail in your wake," I said, trying to bait him. Nothing. "I don't see how what you do is any –"

Brynjolf turned and snapped, "Stop it. It's different. The Thieves' Guild doesn't murder, not on purpose and not for money. We do what we have to. They…they slaughter anyone and everyone and not because they have to just for the money. No. Their skills could easily be used elsewhere. No. They kill because they want to. We're nothing like them. Understand? Never compare us to them."

Brynjolf was suddenly leaning over me, no, not leaning, towering. I hadn't realized how tall he was until just then. Something in me admired how good he was at this, intimidation. Another part of me wanted to back down and raise a white flag, or dash back into the woods. That was probably the sane-er art of me, the part I don't pay attention to when I should, like now, when a tall angry red-headed thief was so close I could feel his fury, that and his hot breath on my face.

A small annoying part of me was going through the daggers hidden in my armor, assessing which would be the easiest to grab should Brynjolf try to run me through with more than his eyes. It was so simple, so cold and clear that part of me, the part that was assessing what to do if he pulled his right hand up with a weapon, his left, a dagger, which way to dodge, what surroundings I had to work with, where his armor was weakest…

At that I did back up. It was too much. Brynjolf didn't move, didn't relax. The thoughts assessing his weak points got louder, even clearer, like alarms going off. I wanted to strike before he struck me. Brynjolf took a step toward me, closing the distance again. My hands clenched and unclenched, sweaty and cold, yearning to reach for a blade and run it into his flesh…

"Thinking of killing me too, lass?"