A Thief's Request
I sheathed my blades and looked at the thief. "What are you doing here?"
"Nice to see you again, too," he said, a swagger in his walk as he approached me. "What's to say I wanted anything?"
"You normally spy on women in the shadows?"
Valiantly I tried to remain irritated but failing, a smile fighting its way onto my face. The man who had so quickly became common place in my life had gone from it nearly as quickly and with all the fighting, bickering, and giant killing I hadn't noticed until just then that I sort of missed the thief. Sort of.
"Just some," he said. "Truth be told, I do need to ask something of you…but it would be better discussed in private. I have a room at The Bannered Mare."
I looked down at Jorrvaskr, lights still bright and welcoming, a celebration in honor of the Companions and my new place with them in full swing. On the cusp of feeling like I belonged somewhere, I stood here with a thief who needed my help and also served as a reminder to everything I didn't want to think about and the reason I came to Skyrim to begin with.
"I can't, Brynjolf. Can't you get someone in the Thieves' Guild to help you?" I asked, not able to look at him directly.
"So that's how it is lass?" Brynjolf joked quietly. Then seriously, "This one involves you Everlee. There's a spy in our guild and Mercer thinks you're involved."
"A spy? And how? How could this involve me?"
"The Dark Brotherhood has been picking off members of our Guild ever since you left," he said. He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a piece of parchment. "They've been leaving this."
Brynjolf handed me the piece of paper which had a black hand, signed underneath simply as The Breton.
Author's Note: Sorry, I know this is really short but I've been writing a lot more lately (despite having to hunt down a library computer to do so) so hopefully the updates will (should) be more regular. More to come soon!