Hey, everyone! Yes, I know this is early, and I know I vowed never to post early again. But I have a legit reason for this one! I'm leaving early tomorrow and will be traveling all day, and I didn't want you guys to think I forgot about posting. So, I guess you get this early again (I'M SORRY).
Chapter 9! It's a little shorter than usual, I know. You'd think I've learned my lesson about posting early, but better early than late? *nervous laugh*
Special thanks to Lydia for the review! :)
"Damn it, it's the city guard!" Iris hisses at Brynjolf as he finishes the Falmer rubbing.
"All right. If there is a thief, he won't leave this tower alive. But shouldn't we inform Master Calcelmo?" Captain Aquilius asks as Iris and Brynjolf hide in the shadows.
"I'll deal with my uncle," Aicantar snarls. "Just…go! Scour this place from top to bottom!"
Iris eyes Brynjolf, nodding to the exit.
"Ready when you are, lass," he breathes.
He follows her as she creeps along the wall, deftly hopping off the ledge and landing softly on her feet. They slip out onto the balcony, and Brynjolf takes the lead, taking the side path and pointing to the waterfall.
"Ready?" he asks.
"What?" Iris peers over the edge. "You want to jump off?"
"How else are we going to get past all the guards?" he smirks. "I've done it loads of times. Just jump right in the waterfall, and you'll be fine."
"You're crazy, Bryn."
"Says the one who can speak to dragons."
She peers over the edge again. "I don't know…"
"I'll help make up your mind then." He moves toward her, and she knows what his intentions are before he even touches her.
"Bryn, no!"
He grips her around the waist and, ignoring her protests, takes a running leap off the ledge. He laughs as Iris shrieks, clutching his arm. They plummet down inside the waterfall, finally landing with a splash in the water below. When he surfaces, Iris immediately splashes him, spewing insults.
"Oi! You two! Out of the water!" a guard yells at them.
Chuckling, Brynjolf offers a hand to Iris, and they step out onto the street, dripping.
"Sorry. Fell in," Brynjolf grins at the guard.
He frowns before stalking off, continuing his round.
Iris slaps Brynjolf's arm. "That was mean."
"It got us out, didn't it?" he chuckles.
She wrings out her hair, scowling at him.
"I know you, lass. Your being upset with me won't last long."
She scoffs. "We'll see."
—
And he's right. The two thieves make their way to the stables, and Iris somehow convinces the stableboy to let them rent horses.
"Damn, you can charm just about anyone, can't you?" Brynjolf comments as they ride down the road.
"Just about," she replies a bit quietly, not meeting his eyes.
He picks up on her hidden meaning, but tries to smother the guilt. Trying to lighten the mood, he uses his horse to nudge hers.
"Race you to that evergreen tree," he grins.
"Bryn—"
But he races off before she can protest. As predicted, she prods her horse forward, dashing toward his. The lass is too competitive and stubborn to forgo a challenge like this. He eases up, purposely letting her win. She makes it to the tree, cheering and smirking.
"I win!" she laughs.
"Serves me right for challenging someone who rides dragons." He smiles as he guides his horse up to hers.
"I need to show you my Whirlwind Sprint Thu'um sometime. Then we should challenge someone else in a race. Easy way to make coin," she tells him as they continue down the road.
"How does that work? Your Shouting?"
"I don't know. It's just this…feeling. Deep in my chest. Like a well of energy just waiting there. I just draw upon it and…it's hard to explain."
"When did you find out what you were?"
"Ever since I helped kill this dragon outside of Whiterun. I absorbed its soul, and then the Greybeards called for me." She sighs. "It's been a whirlwind ever since."
"And you naturally understand the Dragon language?"
"Yeah. It's like a second language to me. Which is very strange considering I've tried learning other languages before and failed miserably."
Brynjolf laughs. "Aye. Me too." He grins at her. "But anyway, I was right."
She frowns, glancing at him. "About what?"
"I knew you wouldn't stay mad at me for long." He laughs as she tries to elbow him and races off, with her laughing protests echoing behind him.
By the time they get to Winterhold, Iris really believes she could sleep for an entire week and still wake up sleepy. Judging by Bryn's drooping eyes, she can tell he feels the same. The two trudge into the inn, heading directly to the cellar where Enthir and Karliah await.
Karliah starts when she sees Brynjolf.
"It's okay. Iris told me everything," he reassures her.
"Back, eh? And how was our friend Calcelmo?" Enthir asks Iris.
She shakes her head angrily. "First of all, he was a complete—"
"Here." Brynjolf hands the elf the rubbing. "This should help translate Gallus's journal."
Iris gives him a look which he returns with a sly wink. Little does he know how much it makes her heart flutter. Damn that Nord thief.
"I suppose it would be inappropriate of me to ask how you obtained this, so I simply won't." Enthir brings the rubbing up to his eyes. "A rubbing, eh? Odd. I expected notes."
"Yeah, so did we," Iris scoffs lightly. "It's quite the tale, Enthir."
"I believe it. Now, let me take a good look at this." He moves over to the table, and the three thieves follow. "Hmm. This is intriguing, but highly disturbing," Enthir comments, looking over the journal. "It appears Gallus had suspicions about Mercer's allegiance to the Guild for months. Gallus had begun to uncover what he calls an 'unduly lavish lifestyle replete with spending vast amounts of gold on personal pleasures'."
Brynjolf and Iris exchange a look.
"Does the journal say where this wealth came from?" Karliah inquires.
"I swear, if it's—"
"Shh," Iris hushes the slowly angering Nord.
"Yes, Gallus seems certain that Mercer had been removing funds from the Guild's treasure without anyone's knowledge," Enthir continues.
"That bastard—" Brynjolf's eyes burn with anger.
"Anything else, Enthir? Anything about…the Nightingales?" Karliah asks.
Enthir looks over the journal, flipping through the pages. "Hmm, yes. Here it is. The last few pages seem to describe 'the failure of the Nightingales' although it doesn't go into great detail. Gallus also repeatedly mentions his strong belief that Mercer desecrated something known as the Twilight Sepulcher."
Iris glances at Karliah, whose face slackens.
"Shadows preserve us. So, it's true."
"I'm not familiar with the Twilight Sepulcher. What is it? What's Mercer done?" Enthir asks what the other two thieves are thinking.
But Karliah shakes her head. "I'm sorry, but I cannot say. All that matters is we deliver your translation to the Guild immediately. Farewell, Enthir…words can't express…"
"It's alright, Karliah. You don't have to say a word."
Brynjolf nudges the Breton. "Iris—"
"Wait." She nods to the approaching Nightingale.
"We must hasten to Riften before Mercer can do any more damage to the Guild."
"What's the Twilight Sepulcher?" Iris asks instead.
Karliah sighs, looking between them. "You've come this far, so I can see no harm in concealing it any longer. The Twilight Sepulcher is the temple to Nocturnal. It's what the Nightingales are sworn to protect with their lives."
"I thought the Nightingales were nothing but a tall tale," Bryn comments.
"I used to think so, too, before Gallus told me otherwise."
"Why does the Sepulcher require that type of protection?" Iris asks.
"Everything that represents Nocturnal's influence is contained within its walls. Now, it seems Mercer's broken his oath with Nocturnal and defiled the very thing he swore to protect."
The violet-eyed thief frowns. "Thieves and temples…it just doesn't add up."
"I felt the same way when Gallus first revealed these things to me. I think, given time, you'll understand what I mean."
Iris sighs, her eyes hardening. "I'd understand better if less mystery was involved."
"As a Nightingale, I've been sworn to secrecy regarding the Sepulcher. I know the Guild doesn't do much to foster faith, but I'm going to have to ask that you continue to trust me."
Iris regards her for a moment. "Fine. We'll do it your way for now. But there is one thing we need to figure out." She turns to Brynjolf. "You need to head to the Guild ahead of us."
"What? Why?" His brow furrows in confusion as he crosses his arms.
"The Guild is going to have a hard time believing us if we walk straight in. They think I'm dead, she's a murderer, and you're still grieving. You need to go ahead and tell them that you saw me with Karliah, that I'm not dead. Make them think that you suspect I'm working with her. After that, we'll 'convince' you to see the truth."
His hard gaze threatens to dissolve her. "How long have you been planning this?"
"That's beside the point, Bryn. Please." She takes a step toward him. "You know this is the best way. Otherwise, they'll brand us all liars. And if Mercer's there?"
"I don't like this splitting up, lass."
"I know. But this is the only way. Please." She places a hand on his arm, her eyes pleading.
She squirms under his glare until he sighs.
"Fine. But I'm traveling with you until we're close enough to Riften."
"You know, I've traveled by myself before. I used to do it all the time," she quirks her brow.
"Aye, but that was before you were almost killed. Now, you have me to worry over you."
She playfully hits his chest. "I can handle myself."
"I don't doubt it at all. But I'm still allowed to worry." He smiles at her, unknowingly melting her heart while simultaneously filling it with anguish over what he won't allow to happen.
"Once you're done flirting, we'll be off," Karliah interrupts them.
Heat rushes to her cheeks as Iris turns away from Bryn.
"We'll work out details on our little scheme on the way," Karliah continues.
And the three thieves set out toward Riften.
"Bryn! For Gods' sake, you had us worried sick!" Vex dashes up to the Nord when he enters the Flagon. "Where were you?" she asks, noting his slumped shoulders.
"I…have news," he mutters, collapsing into his usual seat.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
"Well, first of all…" His green eyes flit up to meet hers and Delvin's. "Iris is alive."
"What?"
"No way."
Brynjolf nods solemnly.
"Isn't this a good thing?" Delvin questions.
Brynjolf squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing his temple. "I don't know. I…I saw her with—Gods—I saw her with Karliah."
"Karliah?"
"Aye. I think Iris was working with her all along. Trying to sink the Guild."
"But why would she want to do that?" Delvin asks.
Brynjolf shrugs. "No idea." His face falls into his hand. "Gods, I'm happy she's alive, but…I don't know what to do."
"You should get some rest first. You look horrible," Vex tells him.
"Thanks, Vex," he utters sarcastically.
"Really. Go sleep. We'll talk more about this when you wake up."
He nods somberly before standing and shuffling to the Cistern.
Vex watches him go with worry. "Gods, I almost wish Iris was actually dead." She looks to Delvin. "Why would Mercer lie about that?"
"Probably trying to protect all of us. Losing someone is usually a little easier than betrayal."
At his words, the Flagon door creaks open, a slim figure entering and lingering by the entrance.
"Who's that?" Vex asks, eyeing the hooded figure.
"Probably another one of those damned Thalmor getting lost again. Just leave 'em alone. They always leave eventually." Delvin stands. "I'm going to see if Mercer's in. We need to talk to him about this."
"I'll go with you."
Ooh, we're finally getting into the good stuff! Thank you all so so so much for reading, and be sure to favorite, follow, and review! The reviews seriously make my day and give me extra motivation to write this story! :) Until next time!
