Hi, everyone! Wow, I'm so surprised to have gotten so many follows and favorites already! I forgot to mention this in the first chapter, but I'm planning to update every Friday. With Blackheart I was supposed to update every week, and that never happened. But I already have a lot of this story written, so I should be able to update every week! I'll give you guys a heads up if anything changes. Thanks for reading!


"Did she say where they were going?" Brynjolf asks Sapphire.

"For the hundredth time, no, she did not. I just saw her speaking with Mercer, and then they both left. I don't know where they went." Sapphire sighs. "Why do you care anyway? They've only been gone for a few days."

"I know, but…something doesn't feel right." He doesn't know what it is, and he knows it sounds cryptic but it's true. Ever since he stepped into the Cistern shortly after they left, there was an unsettling feeling in his stomach. He knows Iris loathes Mercer; he knows she would have hated traveling with him, but that doesn't explain the feeling in his gut.

"Did you hear what they were saying before they left?" he asks his fellow thief.

Sapphire nods to the ladder. "Why don't you ask them yourself?"

Brynjolf whirls around, spotting the Guildmaster climbing down the ladder. He waits with bated breath to find the Breton lass in tow, but no one else appears. He hurries to Mercer, who looks weary and irritable.

"Where were you?"

"My journey was fine, thank you," Mercer sneers tiredly. "Gather everyone. I…have news."

Brynjolf hates the forlorn look on Mercer's face and doesn't budge. "What is it?"

"Get everyone first. I'm telling everyone at the same time."

But Brynjolf still doesn't move. "Where's Iris?"

"Brynjolf."

The unsettling feeling in his stomach moves to his chest, his breathing becoming shallow as he stiffly tells everyone to gather around Mercer's little corner. Once everyone stands around his table, Mercer finally begins to speak.

"I know Iris and I left fairly quickly, without explaining it to anyone, but the reason for our journey was time sensitive. We tracked down Karliah's whereabouts. She was the one trying to tear our Guild apart, and we were intending to confront her once and for all." Mercer leans on his table. "We tracked her to Snow Veil Sanctum, the very place where she killed Gallus all those years ago. I had hoped she would be rational and would finally answer for her crime against the Guild but things got very out of hand very quickly and…" Mercer meets Brynjolf's eyes, frowning. "Karliah—she…she killed Iris."

A roaring fills Brynjolf's ears, panic clenching his stomach, despair eating his heart. No, she can't be dead. Not Iris. Not strong, sassy, clever Iris. Not his Iris.

"I did everything I could but…" Mercer trails off. "I'm sorry."

No. Not Iris. Gods, please. His entire world begins to crumble before his eyes. His Iris, his beautiful, alluring Iris is dead. His fists clenching, Brynjolf knows he has to get out of there before he does something he'll regret. But why would it matter? His voice of reason, his new muse, his Iris is dead. He whirls around, not caring about the eyes on his back as he hurries up the ladder and out into Riften. She can't be gone. No, not her. Stumbling out of the city gates, he continues on, blindly, needing to move. He'll go there himself. Snow Veil Sanctum. He'll discover the truth. She can't be dead, Gods, please, Iris can't be dead. A strangled cry slips past his lips before he realizes the wetness on his cheeks. His legs finally give out from underneath him; he falls onto the ground, his hand falling into the water. That's what he gets for getting attached. In a roundabout way, he killed her. He convinced her to join the Guild. He gave her a taste of what the Guild had to offer and convinced her to join. And where did it lead her? His face falls into his hands, suffused with guilt. He was her killer. And, he vows, he will never forgive himself.


Iris's eyelashes flutter as she struggles to regain consciousness, gasping loudly when the pain slams into her. A pitiful cry squeezes past her lips as she strains to focus on her surroundings.

"Easy, easy. Don't get up so quickly," a voice urges her before a hand appears on her lower back, helping her to sit up slowly. "How are you feeling?"

Iris's vision finally clears, and she finds Karliah in front of her eyes, the Dunmer's face furrowed in worry.

"You…you shot me," Iris's hoarse voice accuses her.

Karliah shakes her head. "No, I saved your life. My arrow was tipped with a unique paralytic poison. It slowed your heart and kept you from bleeding out. Had I intended to kill you, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Iris winces against the throbbing pain in her side. "Why did you save me?"

Karliah's red eyes spot the Breton's hand pressed against her abdomen, and she frowns. "My original intention was to use that arrow on Mercer, but I never had a clear shot. I made a split second decision to get you out of the way, and it prevented your death."

"You should have shot Mercer instead." Iris shudders, her mind's eye replaying her moment of futility when all she could do was watched as she was about to be 'killed'.

"I promise you, the thought crossed my mind. The poison on that arrow took me a year to perfect; I only had enough for a single shot. All I had hoped was to capture Mercer alive."

Iris scoffs lightly. "Why capture him alive?" All she wants to do is Shout him off the Throat of the World.

"Mercer must be brought before the Guild to answer for what he's done. He needs to pay for Gallus's murder."

Iris shudders in pain, tightening her grip on her stomach wound. "How will you prove it now? He got away."

Karliah glances behind her at the snow-covered burial mound. "My purpose in using Snow Veil Sanctum to ambush Mercer wasn't simply for irony's sake. Before both of you arrived, I recovered this journal from Gallus's remains." She shows Iris a leather-bound book. "I suspect the information we need is written inside."

"What does it say?"

Karliah sighs. "I wish I knew. The journal is written in some sort of language I've never seen before."

Iris glances at the journal. "Do you know someone who could translate it?"

Karliah's eyes brighten as she watches Iris. "Enthir…Gallus's friend at the College of Winterhold. Of course…It's the only outsider Gallus trusted with the knowledge of his Nightingale identity."

Iris furrows her eyebrows. "Nightingale?"

Karliah nods. "There were three of us. Myself, Gallus, and Mercer." She practically spits his name. "We were an anonymous splinter of the Thieves Guild in Riften. Perhaps I'll tell you more about it later. Right now, you need to focus on recovering so you can go to Winterhold with the journal and get the translation." She points to the bandage around Iris's stomach. "Mercer's sword was dipped in some kind of poison that keeps the wound from healing. I've been working on an antidote. You should be good to go in a few days."

"Can't you just go?" Iris asks, doubling over in pain.

"I'm afraid not. There are preparations to make and Gallus's remains to lay to rest. Plus, who would look after you?"

"I'm fine," she mutters, peering down at the bandage and absentmindedly twisting the moonstone ring on her finger.

"Interesting ring," Karliah points out before glancing at the sky, noting the sun's position. "It's about time I change the bandage." She pulls out a wooden bowl. "I've been putting a salve on it for now, but I really need to find the last ingredient for the antidote."

Iris cringes when Karliah peels the bandage back, revealing burnt-looking flesh curled up around the edges of the stab wound. It's going to scar for sure.

"It looked worse three days ago," Karliah comments nonchalantly.

"What? Three days ago? How long was I unconscious?" Iris bursts out.

"Four days. I had to keep you under. The poison would have been unbearable if you were conscious. I managed to heal it somewhat before waking you up."

Iris begins to hunt for her things, her eyes roving around the makeshift camp. "I have to get back. They're probably worried about me." One person in particular, she thinks.

"I wouldn't do that. Mercer's made it back by now, and what do you think he'll do when he sees you're still alive and know everything?" Karliah puts her hand on Iris's arm. "Besides, he's no doubt told everyone you're dead now."

Oh, Gods. That means Brynjolf thinks she's dead. Her violet eyes fill with unshed tears, and she tries to blink them away.

"What am I supposed to do then?"

"Rest up. Go to Winterhold. We'll make things right with Mercer and the Guild soon enough." Karliah dabs some salve on the wound as Iris flinches in pain.

"Don't you have any health potions?" she chokes out through the burning sensation of the salve absorbing into her torn flesh.

"I already tried using those. They don't work on something like this. Whatever Mercer poisoned his blade with is very unique and very rare." She finishes redressing it. "Lie down. Rest. I'm going to go look for some nightshade."

"What if someone comes?"

"Can you shoot a bow?"

Iris nods.

"Here." Karliah hands a wooden bow and a few arrows to Iris.

"Thank you. For everything."

"Hush now. Try to get some sleep." Once Iris is laying down, Karliah closes the tent flaps, hiding her from view.

Iris shifts uncomfortably, trying to ignore the stinging of her stab wound and the aching of her heart. Bryn thinks she's dead. Her best friend thinks she's dead. She can only hope he hasn't gone off and done something stupid.


"Brynjolf, are you sure you want to take this job?" Vex asks the Nord, crossing her arms and watching him skeptically.

"I need to do something, Vex," he replies, his voice dark, the shadows under his eyes as prominent as ever.

Everyone knows he hasn't been handling Iris's death very well. He's been trying to busy himself with tons of miscellaneous jobs, taking every job offered just for something to do. Vex suspects he thinks keeping busy and keeping his grief at bay will somehow make it easier. She suspected something had been going on between the two of them, ever since he convinced her to join the Guild. Vex opposed at first. Letting a stranger come right into the Guild just because she did a successful reverse pickpocket? Vex suspected Iris's looks had something to do with her quick initiation. Not to mention her carefully concealed innuendos and flirtations. Vex appreciates a good schmoozer, a good flirt, but only when it's being used for a job. When it's being used on one of her closest friends? Vex learned to be wary around Iris soon after. But then she went and completed the Goldenglow job almost perfectly, when she herself had almost died there. Vex had to hand it to her; she was a damn good thief. Iris had such a natural talent for manipulation and persuasion. If she was caught, though she never was, Vex had a feeling she'd be able to talk her way out of it. Vex mourns Iris for her amazing contribution to the Guild. Ever since she was brought in, the coin began to flow and they were beginning to be feared again. Iris was a beneficial asset to the Guild, for sure. And she made Brynjolf happy.

Iris and Brynjolf had gone on a few jobs together, and each time they came back, they seemed even closer. Vex saw the way they eyed each other in the Cistern. They were nearly inseparable. Her suspicions were only enforced when she witnessed how Brynjolf reacted to Iris's death. She'd never seen him so filled with despair. He's been trying to hide it, but it's just been pouring out of him.

Vipir and Rune are getting worried that he'll snap soon. He's going to trip up eventually; his mind is so preoccupied with his grief, that he's bound to muck something up sooner or later. Which is why Vex is trying to convince him to let Sapphire take the Winterhold job.

"Really, Brynjolf, you should take a break. You've been running yourself ragged ever since…" she trails off, not wanting to bring it up so bluntly.

"Vex, I need this. It's easy. A simple sweep job. I can do it," he continues to plead.

Vex sighs. "We're starting to worry about you, you know. We're worried something's going to happen and—"

"Nothing's going to happen."

"We think you need some time off. You know, collect your thoughts, rejuvenate yourself."

"And you think that's going to help?" he sneers very unlike himself.

The blonde sighs again. "I don't know what will help. Maybe nothing will. Listen. I'll give you the Winterhold job but only if you promise to take a small break afterward. Rent a room up there. Breathe in the cold air. Let it clear your mind." She pauses. "I don't want you to put the Guild at risk, Brynjolf. You know you haven't been yourself lately. And we can not afford to be distracted. Not at a time like this." She builds up enough courage to place a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry about Iris, but she wouldn't want you to be reacting like this."

He slaps her hand from his arm, stalking past her. "I'll have a courier sent when it's done."

She shakes her head, watching him go.

"There's no stopping him, you know," Delvin interjects. "He thinks this will help him cope. And to Oblivion with us if we stand in his way."

"I just wish he'd stop and realize how much danger he's putting the Guild in," Vex mutters, sliding down into the seat across from him. "He's getting sloppy."

"A break will be good for him. And it's only been about two weeks since it happened. I'm still hoping it will get better with time."

Vex scoffs. "Better with time? I mean, I'll hope, but I know it won't." She takes a swig of ale. "The best thing that's happened to the Guild in years, and she goes and gets herself killed."

"I guess she wasn't as good as we thought she was."

"Or maybe she was and Karliah was just better. You remember how she was, don't you?"

"Karliah was very good. Still, I'd think Iris could hold herself in a fight. It's a shame, really."

"I mostly feel for Brynjolf. Did you see how those two were?"

"They made a good team, that's for damn sure." Delvin shakes his head. "If only it had lasted longer."

"What's the news on Mercer? He left a while ago."

"No idea. He just up and left again without telling a soul where he was going."

Vex groans. "I wish he'd just tell us what's going on every once and a while."

"Me too, Vex."


Yes, I know Karliah's eyes are actually violet, but Karliah and Iris can't both have violet eyes, so I changed it. Hahahah it's easier for when Brynjolf goes on about Iris's beautiful violet eyes. Believe me; it's better this way.

Thanks for reading, and be sure to favorite, follow, and review if you haven't already!