So sorry for the late post! My day was crazy busy, and I couldn't seem to find the time to sit down and post this! But here it is! I hope you all enjoy!


"Iris!" Brynjolf face cracks into a relieved smile when he spots the Breton in the Cistern. But as soon as she turns, he barely smothers his gasp. "Lass, it looks like you haven't slept for days. Is everything okay?"

She waves him away wearily. "I'm fine. I need to talk to Vex. Tell her the heist is done."

He frowns after her in concern, his mind spinning with all the possible causes of her darkened eyes and paled skin.

When Iris returns from speaking with Vex, she looks a little better. Brynjolf wonders if he imagined her weary appearance when he first saw her.

"How was it?" he asks when she sits down next to him.

"Easy. Just a long ride to Windhelm." He notices her voice is lower in pitch, tired.

"Uh, I heard that you stopped back here for a bit?"

Her eyes snap up to his. "Yeah, I…forgot something."

He arches an eyebrow. "You forget who you're talking to, love. That was an extraordinarily bad lie."

She almost smirks, but stops. "How have things been around here?"

"The same as usual. Boring and uneventful." Karliah's words ring in his ears, but he can't tell Iris now. "Did you return the Key?"

She curses under her breath. "No. Gods damn it, I knew I forgot something."

"How could you forget to return the Key?" he asks suspiciously.

"I…had a lot on my mind, I guess." She sighs, rubbing her eyes. "Want to go outside?"

"You know we can't, love."

"Just the cemetery. Maybe we ran into each other as I was leaving the Cistern." She smirks.

He sighs softly, a smile tugging at his mouth. "Gods know I can't say no to you."

The two lovers get to their feet and climb the ladder. Once outside, Iris leans against the outside of the tomb, eyes upturned to the sky.

"Septim for your thoughts," Brynjolf says softly from his place inside the structure.

She exhales, turning to meet his eyes. "Have you ever done something where it seemed like nothing at the time but turned into something huge? Something you regret?"

His brow furrows in thought. "I'm sure everyone has." He peers at her weary expression. "Why? What have you done?"

She drops her gaze, picking at a stray thread on her armor. "I—"

"I've been looking all over for you." Iris almost jumps out of her skin when the courier approaches her. "Got something to deliver. Your hands only. Let's see here…" The courier rummages around in his bag, pulling out a folded piece of parchment. "Yeah, got this note."

"From who?" Iris eyes the note with apprehension.

"Don't know. Creepy fella, black robe. Couldn't see his face. Paid me a pretty sum to get that into your hands, though." He hands the note to her. "Looks like that's it. Got to go."

Brynjolf watches her shaking hands fiddle with the note.

"What does it say?" he asks.

She shrugs, unfolding the note. As soon as her violet eyes read it, her face pales, slackens in horror, her trembling hands almost dropping the note.

Brynjolf straightens up. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head frantically. "Nothing, I—" She stuffs the note into her pocket, her eyes wildly darting around. "I'll see you later, Bryn."

"Wait, Iris!"

But she soon disappears from his view, practically running through the streets.

What in Oblivion would make her react like that? he wonders, worry suffusing his heart. He intends to find out.


How do they know? How could they find out? It was a simple murder. She just did what the Aretino boy asked her to. Kill Grelod the Kind. That was it. And she did so with ease. A little too much ease. The guilt that wracked her body after came as a shock. She's killed before. It isn't as if that was her first kill. But the boy thought she was in the Dark Brotherhood. Why the hell would she pretend to be a Dark Brotherhood assassin? You wanted to help him, a small voice tells her. You felt sorry for what he'd lost and wanted to please him. Iris was so strung out about killing Grelod, that she completely forgot to return the Key. And now? The Dark Brotherhood knows what she did. What will happen to her now?

Swiping the frightened tears from her face, she crumples the note and launches it into the fire with a cry. She watches as the edges curl and burn before her eyes. She can't tell anyone about this. Especially not Bryn. She can't get him involved in all this. Whatever this is. Iris paces back and forth through Honeyside, fear rattling her to the core. She's never felt like this before. She grabs two bottles of wine, cracking one open and drinking straight from the bottle. She goes to her bag, intending to fish out her journal, but stops. She can't write about this. She needs to keep this a secret. No evidence anywhere. If the Guild found out that the Dark Brotherhood might be after her…no. She doesn't want anyone to get involved. Once the Dark Brotherhood decides to kill someone, there's no stopping them. This is her problem now. No one else's.


Brynjolf has to force himself to stay in the Flagon. He keeps getting up, intending to go to Honeyside to make sure Iris is alright. But he can't. And he collapses back into his seat in frustration every time.

"You look a little worse for wear," Delvin comments as he enters the Flagon and takes the seat across from Brynjolf. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," he growls. "I think something's wrong with Iris."

Delvin furrows his eyebrows. "Why? What's happened?"

"I don't know. She came back from the Windhelm job looking awful. She's more jumpy than usual. A courier delivered a note to her, and I thought she was going to collapse. She dashed off to who knows where right after. Wouldn't tell me what it said."

"Do you think she's being blackmailed?"

Brynjolf shakes his head. "I don't think so. I know nearly everything about her, and there's nothing that could be blackmail material. Although…"

"Although?"

"Right before the courier came, she asked me if I'd ever done something I regret. I asked her what she did, but the courier came and interrupted us." He sighs. "I'm really worried."

"I'll ask around. See if any rumors are floating around about her," Delvin says. "I'm sure she's alright, Bryn. She's a strong woman."

"But even she can break. You don't know her like I do." He shudders, remembering finding her after he brought up her father.

Delvin places a hand on his arm. "It'll be alright. I'll let you know if I hear anything."

"Thanks, Delvin." Brynjolf nods, standing up. "I'm going to see if Vex has anything for me. I need to get my mind off her."

"Women, right?" Delvin smirks.

Brynjolf stops, turning. "I thought you were against Iris and I being…together?"

Delvin shrugs. "I don't think it's wise, but some things you can't stop. I've tried convincing Vex, but she won't budge on the subject. I'll keep working on it though. But really, Bryn, love in the Guild can be dangerous. And I'm not sure if you two can handle more danger than you already have. It might be better this way."

Brynjolf scoffs, turning back around. "Better for the Guild, you mean."

"You know the rules. The Guild has to come first."

"But if my love interest happens to be the soon-to-be Guildmaster?"

Delvin sighs. "Even more reason to stay away. Vex is…irrational sometimes. She knows that if we lost you and Iris, the Guild would suffer. I have a hard time believing she'd follow through with kicking you two out of the Guild. But still. You can never be too careful, can you?"

"I suppose." Brynjolf moves to the door. "I'll see you later."


She has to get out of the city. News has traveled about Grelod's murder; Iris overheard two guards talking about it. How long will it take for the Dark Brotherhood to find her now? She doesn't think anyone saw her killing the old woman, but maybe she was wrong. Maybe the Brotherhood is already on the way. She takes another long draught of wine, discarding the empty bottle on her end table. She'll leave first thing in the morning. She's done a good job of outrunning Boethiah so far. If she can run from a Daedric god, surely she can outrun the Brotherhood.

Iris stumbles to her bed, the wine clouding her mind, and blows out the candle by her bedside. She crawls underneath the warm blankets, clutching the dagger she always keeps under her pillow. She knows sleep is going to be difficult to find.

But the wine certainly helps. She lies in bed for a long while when her eyelids finally begin to droop. Every muscle in her body relaxes as she falls into the state of consciousness right between sleeping and awake. Forcing her mind to empty, she allows herself to fall into a much needed sleep.

Iris awakens with a violent gasp, shooting up in bed, clutching the dagger. Her eyes widen in the pitch darkness as she climbs out of bed. She hears the whisper of light footsteps, the hiss of movement.

"W–Who's there?" she calls out in a shaky voice, brandishing the dagger.

She silently tiptoes forward, entering the small kitchen, her eyes darting around.

"Bryn?" She swears, if this is him—

Another whispered movement sounds behind her. She whirls around, her breaths shallow. Blinking quickly, she sighs in relief when her eyes finally adjust to the darkness. But she only finds her bedroom empty, the candle beside her bed still smoking. How long was she asleep?

Iris gasps, startled, and whirls around again. "What do you want?"

She creeps forward, holding her breath. The dagger stretches straight out in front of her, held by her trembling hand.

"What do you want?" she demands again. Her eyes widen when she feels movement directly behind her, lips touching her ear, muttering a single word.

"You."

Before Iris can lash out, the intruder wraps a gloved hand around her mouth. Iris's cry of pain is muffled as the intruder twists her wrist, sending her dagger flying out of her hand. But still Iris fights. She tries to squirm out of the intruder's grasp, her arms flailing and knocking things off her shelves.

The intruder hushes her, pulling her backwards into her bedroom. Iris tries to Shout but it's no use. She kicks behind her, hoping to get the intruder in the shins. But a stabbing pain registers in her shoulder. Gasping, she finds a poison dart in her neck. Frantically, she yanks it out of her neck, tossing it onto the floor. Her muffled cries, she knows, will reach no one's ears. She still struggles against her attacker, but begins to feel the poison enter her veins. Her legs give out from under her. She falls to the ground. Her eyes droop, threatening to bury her in unconsciousness.

"No," she mutters against the intruder's hand as the shadowy figure lowers her to the ground. The edges of her vision blur, a roaring in her ears. She can't fight anymore, and she can't hold on anymore. A single tear drips from her eye as the poison finally takes her under.


Hmmm...any guesses on Iris's next adventure?

Thanks for reading! :)