Hi, everyone! Thank you all so much for sticking with this story. It makes me so happy to know there are so many of you reading it! Unfortunately, I have to make a small change.

From this point forward, I'm going to be posting new chapters every TWO weeks.

I know! I'm so sorry! But a lot of this story was prewritten, and I haven't worked on it for a while. I want to give myself time to write more of the story; I'd hate to leave you hanging altogether as I scramble to finish the chapters. So, this is what I've decided.

But, anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you all for hanging around for so long!


"Have you—"

"Seen Iris?" Vex finishes for Brynjolf. "No, I haven't. Which is weird. I thought she'd finish that Dawnstar job in a day or two. It's been four."

"I know. I haven't seen her since she got back from Windhelm." He places his hands on the table, leaning on it.

"Hmm. I wouldn't worry too much yet."

"But her horse is still in the stables."

"Maybe she wanted to walk."

"No—"

"Listen, Bryn. I'm sure everything is fine. You worry too much." She places a reassuring hand on his arm.

"Don't you dare start with that 'maybe it's better this way' bollocks," he growls, shrugging her hand off.

"I wasn't going to say that." She crosses her arms. "Listen, if she still isn't back in two days, go look for her."

"But that means—"

"Yes, I know." Vex waves her hand. "I know. But it's clear that you won't get much done around here if you're too busy worrying about your little protege."

Brynjolf nods eagerly. "Alright."

"It's only a day and a half's walk to Dawnstar. She should've been back by now." Vex runs a hand through her blonde locks. "On second thought, maybe you'd better check her house, just to be safe."

"I will. Thank you, Vex." Brynjolf leaves the Flagon, heading straight for the ladder leading to the surface. After the whole business with the courier, Brynjolf hadn't seen Iris for four days. At all. Not even a fleeting glance as he walked through the Guild. She's been nowhere to be found. It's worrying him like Oblivion. Last time she was gone for this long…

Brynjolf shakes his head adamantly. He can't think about that just yet. He marches straight to her house and takes out a lock pick to unlock her door. But, to his surprise, the door is already unlocked. His hand gripping the hilt of his dagger, Brynjolf nudges the door open and slips inside with caution. Honeyside lies in mostly darkness, a few rays of the setting suns pooling on her bed. Everything looks fine. He walks to her bed, noting that it's actually been made for once. She never makes her bed. He slips his hand under her pillow, expecting to feel the dagger she always keeps there. But his hand comes away with nothing. His brow furrowing, Brynjolf strains to reign in his apprehension. He continues to search the house, but finds everything to be in order. A little too in order, he realizes. Dropping to the ground, he peers underneath all the pieces of furniture, swiping his hand under them. He gasps when his hand catches on something sharp. He draws the object out and finds it's Iris's dagger. The one she keeps under her pillow. So, what was it doing underneath her bookshelf? Lying on the ground, he studies the undersides of all her furniture, a long, black object catching his eye. He reaches under the cabinet and pulls out a poisoned dart.

"By the Nine…" he whispers.

Looking to her bedside, he notices her bag sitting upon her end table. She'd never leave without her bag. Which means, Gods, someone must have taken her by force. Poisoned her and then taken her. He looks to the door and finds her Nightingale boots on the rug. The rest of her Nightingale armor hangs neatly in her wardrobe and her Elven sword atop the chest. A hard lump forms in his throat as he examines the dart and dagger. Who in Oblivion would kidnap her from her own house? His breathing shallow, he falls onto her bed, leaning against the headboard as the blood drains from his face. Gods, and that note she got…What did it say? Was it sent by the same person who took her? Brynjolf exhales shakily, his entire body trembling, and forces himself to his feet. He tucks the evidence into his bag and heads to the door.

"Gods damn it, Iris. What in Oblivion have you gotten yourself into?" he laments before ducking back out into Riften, heading to the Guild to show Vex what he's found.


Iris stumbles through the snow in her threadbare tunic and pants, her bare feet completely numb. She looks down, checking, as she has been, to make sure they haven't gotten frostbite. Not yet. She wraps her arms around herself, shivering violently and cursing that Dark Brotherhood assassin.. The initial terror and stomach-churning guilt has fallen behind her mind-numbing hatred for the damned assassin who kidnapped her and left her with no cloak, no weapon, no shoes, no gold. Instead of heading straight back to Honeyside, Iris decided to travel to Morthal to scrounge up enough money to get her home. But even the seemingly short walk to Morthal drags on and on. Iris supposes the lack of proper winter attire and no shoes has to do with it.

Finally, thank the Gods, Iris spots the gates for Morthal and practically runs into the nearest inn. She plants herself by the warm hearth to thaw out before asking for help. Her words would probably be undecipherable given the violent chattering of her teeth. No less than ten minutes later, Iris is warm enough to ask the innkeeper for help.

"Please, I was taken from my home in Riften. I need to get back, but I don't have any money or even a pair of shoes," Iris pleads.

The innkeeper peers at her. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to fall for your little ploy?"

Iris falters, stunned. "Wha–what?"

"Your act may have worked on others, but I'm not gullible like the rest."

"No, I swear, I'm not lying. Please—"

"Get out before I call the guards."

"No, but I—"

"Guards!" the innkeeper shouts.

"No, please. Fine, I'm leaving." Iris raises her hands, palms facing the innkeeper, and backs away.

Fighting back frustrated tears, the young Breton steps back out into the frigid air, whimpering in pain when her feet touch the snow.

"Are you alright, miss?"

Startled, Iris turns, finding an old beggar man sitting on a thin mat, a tankard at his side, a few coins littering the bottom. He watches her with worried eyes.

"Yeah, I–I'm fine," she mutters.

The beggar chuckles, eyeing her feet. "Barefoot in the snow? No cloak? Either you're as rich as me, or you've gotten yourself into some trouble, am I right?"

Iris bites her lip, feeling the sting of tears behind her eyes. "Something like that."

"I might have an extra pair of foot wraps around here—"

"Oh no, it's fine, really," Iris protests, not wanting to take any of the beggar's precious belongings. "I can't—"

"I don't need to go anywhere. I insist." The beggar holds out a pair of shabby looking foot wraps.

Her lips part soundlessly, tentatively reaching out for the wraps. "Th–thank you," she stutters, accepting his gift. Tears prickle her eyes, taken aback by his kindness and generosity, he who has nearly nothing. "I wish I could pay you, but—"

"Nonsense." The beggar cracks a smile. "May the Divines bless the ground upon you walk."

"Thank you," Iris sniffles. "What's your name?"

"Hodaar."

"I'm Iris." She gives him a watery smile. "Thank you. Gods bless your kind soul."

Sniffling, Iris continues on her way, walking aimlessly until she finds a snow-covered bench. Swiping the snow away, she sits down and puts on the foot wraps. Once she gets back to Riften, she vows to come back to repay Hodaar's kindness. Wiping her eyes, she admires the wraps around her feet. Though they provide little warmth, it's better than walking with bare feet. Now, she just needs a cloak and some gold. She's sure she can manage with her magic and Thu'ums in lieu of a weapon. She studies her surroundings, noting a richly decorated house. Sighing softly, she peers down at her feet, wondering if she could sweep the house in foot wraps and no armor. She can't think of anything else; she can't buy anything if she doesn't have gold. And she needs to get back as soon as possible. Hating herself, she gets up off the bench, casually walking around the house before slipping through the window.

"Laas," she Whispers. Finding no auras around her, she sighs in relief, immediately going to one of the wardrobes and finding a pair of sturdy boots. She slides them on over the foot wraps and continues looking. Minutes later, she leaves the house, clutching her newfound belongings: a small coin purse, slice of bread, and a dagger. She devours the bread, noting the time. Tucking the dagger into her waistband, she sets off down the road. At this rate, she should get back to Riften in a day or two.


Brynjolf rubs his eyes impatiently, watching Vex and Delvin speculate over the dart and Iris's dagger.

"But the rest of the house looked fine?" Delvin asks, running his finger over the tip of the dart.

"Aye. A little too fine, if you ask me. Iris's bed was made. She never makes her bed. Never," Brynjolf answers seriously.

"Maybe she felt like cleaning up a bit?" Delvin suggests.

Brynjolf shakes his head. "No. I can't explain it…Someone was in there. Someone must have gone back and cleaned up after themselves after they took Iris."

"Are you sure she was taken?" Vex asks, quirking an eyebrow. "Maybe she just ran off. She tends to do that."

"Why would she have a poisoned dart lying underneath her cabinet? And the dagger she keeps under her pillow was on the floor, too." Brynjolf groans, standing up and pacing. "Something is wrong. I just know it. You didn't see her after that courier delivered that note."

"Did you look for it in her house?" Delvin asks.

"No. I'm sure she did away with it. She…likes to keep me out of things that could potentially worry me." He growls internally. Damned Iris and her secrets. "I swear, she's too headstrong for her own good sometimes."

Delvin furrows his eyebrows, studying the dart. "I haven't seen something like this since…" he trails off, meeting Brynjolf's eyes and shaking his head. "Never mind."

"I asked around, and no one saw her leave," Vex interjects. "The only thing everyone's talking about is that old hag's murder. Grelod or something."

Brynjolf moans, leaning with his elbows on against a crate.

"I wouldn't worry too much yet, Bryn," Vex assures him.

"It's been five days, Vex."

"She's been gone for longer before."

"Aye, when Mercer told us she was dead," Brynjolf tosses back.

Vex crosses her arms, looking to Delvin. "I'll send some of ours out. Have them look for her. Maybe Rune, Vipir, and Sapphire. I can have them split up. Okay?" She peers at the Nord. "In the meantime, why don't we check out her house again, alright?"

Brynjolf swipes a hand across his face. "Fine."

"It was already unlocked when I came here earlier," Brynjolf explains to Vex as he opens the door to Honeyside.

"I see what you mean about it looking a little too nice," Vex comments as she steps inside. "I mean, I don't know Iris as well as you do, but no one keeps their house this freakishly clean."

"Look." Brynjolf strides to her wardrobe, showing Vex the armor inside. "Her armor is still here, and her bag, too." He points to her bag. "And her sword."

"That is a little odd…" Vex walks around the house, stopping every now and then to look more closely at something. "Look. Ashes." She kneels by the fireplace, sifting the ashes around. "These ashes are finer than wood." She peers up at Brynjolf. "Maybe she burned that note you mentioned."

"Of course she fucking did," Brynjolf growls, gripping the roots of his hair.

Vex straightens up. "What kind of kidnapper would come back to clean up her house? I know Iris wouldn't have just let herself be taken. She would've fought like hell. So, why is nothing broken or knocked over? Why would her kidnapper want to make it look like nothing happened here?"

"Why would they need to clear their tracks?" Brynjolf mutters, peering around the space.

The two thieves stand in silence, deep in thought for a long while.

The setting sun finally settles beneath the horizon. Brynjolf halts his pacing when he notices the lack of sunlight flooding through the windows.

"We should probably get back, Bryn," Vex suggests gently.

"I suppose." He feels like he's been deflated.

Vex must notice because she touches his arm. "Rune, Vipir, and Sapphire are setting out tomorrow to look for her. We'll find her, Bryn. I promise you."

"I thought you didn't care for her."

"She may not be my favorite person, but she makes you happy. And I care about you, Bryn. You're one of my closest friends, and I want you to be happy."

"Even if that means I may be kicked out of the Guild?" he brings up bitterly.

Vex opens her mouth soundlessly before sighing. "You know the rules. The Guild has to come first."

"Forcing us apart doesn't magically change my priorities, you know."

"I know. I guess I had hoped forcing you apart would make you refocus. But…it obviously hasn't worked." She exhales, running a hand through her blonde locks.

Brynjolf says nothing, hoping the next words out of Vex's mouth are the words he's been hoping to hear since she placed the stupid ban on him and Iris.

Her lips part; Brynjolf holds his breath in anticipation—

And the back door creaks open.


CLIFFHANGER! MWAHAHA!

Damn, now I feel extra bad about leaving a cliffhanger since I'm updating every 2 weeks now :( I'm so sorry!

As always, please favorite, follow, and review! Special thanks to lady73 and "Guest" for the reviews last week!

See you in two weeks! :)