A loud knocking late the next morning broke the relative peace and quiet for the two people sleeping in the small home in Riften.

"Who in Oblivion is knocking at your door now, Gisele? You only just got back last night- couldn't they wait 'til you settled in?"

"I'm the Jarl's Thane, love, plus the Dragonborn and Guild Master. Someone's always going to want a piece of me, just know that in the end I'll always come home to you," the mage goes as she slips out from underneath the thin blanket that covered the bed. Picking up her shirt from the night before and slipping it on, Gisele pads barefoot over to the front door saying "I'll try to deal with this as quickly as possible. Nocturnal knows I could use a little more sleep."

"You could just ignore the knocking and come back to bed now," the voice goes, teasing her like a siren's call and the brunette could only groan.

"Five minutes." Unlocking the door and cracking it open- because what thief in their right mind would pick the lock of the Guild Master's home- sleep laden amber orbs peer outside, blinking in confusion at who she saw on the other side. "Ralof? What are you doing here? Did something happen already that has Ulfric needing me?"

Broad shoulders covered in tan linen shrug as the blonde holds out a sealed message to his shield-sister. "I'm not sure. I was only told to bring this to you as soon as dawn crept over the horizon and to wait for an answer. Whatever it is though, it had both the Jarl and the General concerned."

"And here they were hoping for a slight reprieve before the Thalmor started moving..." As Gisele takes the offered letter, she pulls the door back further and steps back. "Get inside my friend, you look pretty done in. Have you eaten since leaving the palace?"

"Couldn't risk stopping, not when there's still unaccounted for Legionnaires out there," the man goes as he steps into the main room. "Wouldn't turn down a bottle of mead though if you have one, though."

As the small woman chuckles softly, an exasperated voice floats in from the sleeping area "Five minutes my ass, Gisele. Tell the bloody fig you'll talk to him later!"

"And what a beautiful ass it is, Love. I'll get reacquainted with it shortly." Ralof's cheeks color slightly, realizing what he walked into and stammering his apologies, to which the mage brushes off by handing him a bottle of the requested drink. "Sit down and let me see what the Jarl wants, hmm?"

Dragonborn,

I know you only left Eastmarch last night, but it seems I have need of some of your particular talents once more, and, dare I say, those of your Guild's. I never thought I would see the day when I would call upon the ragtag bunch you call a Guild for help, but, by Talos, I need all the help I can get.

Gisele stares at the statement, a blank expression on her face though her mind was whirling with questions. What could Ulfric have need of the Guild for? He'll be named High King of Skyrim soon enough, anything he could want he wouldn't have to steal with that power...

No, I do not need something stolen...far from it in fact. I- there were a lot of scratch outs, as if the man kept changing his mind on what to write down. I was foolish, Dragonborn. So wrapped up was I with the change in the tides your joining my side during the war that I didn't realize I was neglecting other people- people who meant as much to me as winning the war. No, that's a lie- they mean more to me than that. But that negligence has cost me someone I never wanted to lose.

Sometime after when you saw Freyja talking to Galmar last night, she...left, without a word of where she was going, only telling him that she would be back in time for my coronation. My Housecarl was rather emphatic in his telling me that it was my fault that she left... In hindsight, this is not far from the truth. I need her found, Gisele. I would search for her myself, but you know Galmar would never allow it. The Stormcloaks across Skyrim could, but between being on the lookout for the remaining Imperial soldiers and her knowing almost all of them, she could easily elude them.

However, though she would recognize you, she would possibly not recognize the members of your Guild. So I ask for your help, not as the Dragonborn, but as the Guild Master of those whose job it is to be overlooked. Find Freyja for me so I can bring her home... I can't do this without her.

-Ulfric Stormcloak

Jarl of Windhelm

"What an idiot," the Breton mutters under her breath, then aloud goes "At least the fire got lit up under his ass to do something about it. How it took him this long to figure everything out I have no idea. Even the men were wondering why he never made a move on the Commander- not that they'd say anything to his or her face, that is." Calling over her shoulder towards the bedroom, Gisele goes "Best get dressed, Love. We've got work to do."

"I knew it! Damn it straight to Oblivion, Gisele, you only just got home! Can't they bloody wait?"

The woman in question just marches over to the bed and thrusts the parchment in her lover's face. "You read this and you tell me."

Hardened mahogany orbs dart over the words written on the paper, softening the further down they go. A sigh then, "Alright, I concede to your point... but this is a little bit out of our usual job description. Who do you want me to gather up?"

Chestnut brows furrow as the Guild Master wracks her brain, an ivory incisor peeking out to nibble at her lower lip. "We can't run the risk of a screw up, so the newcomers are out. Etienne is still too afraid of the Thalmor picking him up if he strays too far north, even if we were to send him with someone in case. I want Mallory, Bryn, Garthar, Thyrnn and Vipir here in the next ten minutes, or they're all going doing the worst jobs possible for the next year. And bring Tonilia along too- she might be able to get word out to the caravans. As for you," here Gisele turns back around and faces Ralof "You tell Jarl Ulfric we will attempt to find her, but if we do, he better do whatever he can to fix this pile of horker shit he stepped in. If he doesn't, I have a list of people ready to introduce Commander Strong-Heart to, and while he might not be happy with half of the names on it, they sure as hell won't be a wool-headed idiot like he's been."

As the young man heads out the door to head back up to Windhelm, the Breton feels a leather covered arm wrap around her waist. "I'm sorry, Love. I truly am. Had it been in regards to anything else, I'd have made our excuses."

"No you wouldn't have and you know it," the other person teases as a blonde head comes into view. "You might be a thief, but you'd give the shirt off your back if someone needed it."

"You know me too well, Vex. The Commander is a special case though. Ulfric Stormcloak, for all his talk of honor, is still a man, and every man wants to have one thing more any anything else- it just takes time to figure out what that is. It didn't take long to realize that, after being given the report of what happened at each battle, he would ask specifically about Commander Strong-Heart first, then about General Stone-Fist, then the others."

"I take it you said something?"

"Not until last night. Told both the Jarl and his General that if they happened to come across the Commander to tell her I wanted to bring her down to the Rift and Whiterun for some hunting, and not just of the four legged variety." Gisele gestures at the parchment in the infiltrator's hand, saying "And you see the results. Stone-Fist must have had more than a few words with Ulfric in private to get this sort of reaction- my comment alone wouldn't have done all this, the Stormcloak is too stubborn for that."

"Do you think we can find her? I'm sure she didn't become an officer because she had tits and ass or something like that," the Guild Master's Third points out, running her fingers through short straw strands. "Is that why you're sending all men- to try to seduce her into compliance?"

A soft snort escapes the Breton as she moves back into the bedroom to dress. "Far from it- the only two who can seduce worth a damn are Bryn and Del. But if you notice, four of the five are Nords, and we're in the middle of winter. Mallory's there in the case we need to expand our search a little bit, or need to pull in a few favors- never could understand how that man could have his fingers in so many places across Tamriel." Glancing out of the corner of her eye, Gisel gestures towards the door and continues "Go get the boys so that this can hopefully get finished as quickly and peacefully as possible. I hope that Brynjolf and Garthar understand fully that they don't want to cross blades with the Commander. I saw her sparring with the General one afternoon and it made what Bryn and Mercer used to do in the training room look like two young boys playing with wooden swords..."

A/N: So, Ulfric decides to hire a bunch of sneaks to find what he's lost. But will that be enough, and if any of the thieves in question find Freyja, will they keep their hands- or other body parts for that matter- to themselves? Tune in to find out!

Onward to our next adventure- where in the name of Oblivion did Commander Stone-Heart go?