Two Weeks Later
"And then I need you to break into the palace and erase his name from the register, change it to whatever you like. Do you think you can do that?"
Brynjolf folds his arms, arching an eyebrow at Olfrid Battle-Born. "Of course, I can. Why hire us if we weren't capable?"
Olfrid nods tersely. "Good. Because if you get caught, we never spoke."
The red-haired thief scoffs. "I never get caught."
Walking away from Olfrid, he heads to Dragonsreach, preparing himself for the task at hand. Normally, he'd send Iris on jobs like these. So, in her absence, he goes instead. He doesn't mind it. He missed being out on jobs. He hasn't really left the Flagon since he and Iris swept the Blue Palace, and he was quickly becoming bored with working with the business ledgers all the time. Staring at numbers in the dim light of the cistern doesn't compare to high-speed pursuits, a valuable object in hand. He misses the adrenaline rush, the excitement of stealing.
But most of all, he misses Iris. She's been gone for two weeks now, but somehow he's managed to keep his worry under check. She had told him it would take a while, and there's no use worrying about something he can't help. So, he's chosen to go on jobs normally given to her in an attempt to distract himself.
After heaving a deep breath, he sidles up the hill to Dragonsreach, keeping low and unseen in the moonlight. He easily slips into the palace, dodging the guards and nobles milling about the vast hall. Once he ascends the stairs, he knows, he won't be able to stay unseen. Luckily, he still has the clothes from the Blue Palace job and thought to wear them in place of his armor. Hiding in plain sight. He ascends the stairs, instantly straightening up and walking leisurely, his hands in his pockets. He inclines his head in greeting to the other nobles who think nothing of him. His eyes carefully roam about the space, spotting the door through which he needs to go. To the Jarl's quarters. He lets his facial expression droop, giving his features a look of boredom as he wanders toward the door. No one pays him any attention. He casually glances over his shoulders, making sure no one is in sight before deftly opening the door and slipping through.
Once inside, he drops his act, going back into stealth mode. Crouching down, he sneaks up the staircase, coming face to face with a locked door. His nimble fingers easily pick the lock, and he hurries inside. The letter lays on the desk, and Brynjolf grabs it, stuffing it into his pocket.
Now the register, he thinks as he descends the stairs, heading to the other door. His breath hitches in his throat when a guard appears seemingly out of nowhere. He instantly backs up against the wall, staying low as the guard passes. Once he's sure he's in the clear, he glides to the other room and shuts the door behind him. A long exhale leaves his lips as his heart tries to slow down. The register rests upon a wooden table, a quill and ink next to it. Crouching over the register, Brynjolf carefully writes in a random name, chuckling softly to himself.
Poor Arn, he thinks, grinning at his handwriting spelling out the name "Torksten Runhide". Olfrid never said it had to be a good name.
Job completed, Brynjolf sets down the quill and focuses on slipping out.
He leaves just as easily as he had entered. His hands in his pockets, he lazily descends the stairs back from the Cloud District, heading to Olfrid to tell him the good news. Brynjolf reaches the Battle-Born house and tells Olfrid the job is done.
"By the Gods, you actually did it." Olfrid smiles widely. "You have my thanks and my full-fledged support, as well as that of the other Battle-Borns."
"Thank you, Olfrid." Brynjolf grins, accepting an enchanted ring as a reward. "I look forward to doing more…business with you."
Olfrid nods fervently before reentering his home.
Feeling pleased with himself, Brynjolf turns, intending to hit the road and head back to the Guild.
That is, until a guard stops him.
"Honored guests, are you all enjoying yourselves? Please, eat, drink, and make merry on this most happy of days."
Iris smothers her scoff with her hand as she waits, crouched behind the old gargoyle. Peering down, she watches as the new bride, Vittoria Vici, addresses the crowd. All she has to do is push the statue. It will be easy. As if the Gods had placed it there to be used for this very purpose. But Iris waits. She wants to wait for the perfect moment.
"In this courtyard, there are no Stormcloaks. There are no Imperials. There are only people come to celebrate a union of two souls. So make merry!" Vittoria continues.
Iris pulls her hood down lower and adjusts the face mask, ready to make a run for it after she pushes the statue.
"You have all helped make this a truly extraordinary wedding. All my dreams have come true. So thank you. Thank you all."
It's time, Iris thinks as she watches Vittoria take a step backward.
"Here goes nothing." Without hesitation, Iris pushes the statue as hard as she can. It instantly crumbles under the pressure, crumbs of stone falling at Iris's feet. As if in slow-motion, the statue plummets down, down onto the balcony, and collides perfectly with the top of Vittoria's head. She falls to the ground under the weight, blood streaming from the wound, dead.
Chaos ensues.
"Look! Up there! It's a Dark Brotherhood assassin!"
Iris curses loudly at being spotted and dashes to the stairs. She has to get out of here. Now. Gripping her bow in both hands, she hurries down the steps, intending to run all the way out of the city. But she crashes into someone instead. Her fingers instinctively grab an arrow and load it onto her quiver before she recognizes him.
"Veezara? What in Oblivion are you doing here?" She gapes at the Argonian.
"Astrid ordered me to keep an eye on you. Figured you could use a hand when the chaos erupted." He smiles, showing his pointed teeth. "I'll try and hold them off as best I can. You get back to the Sanctuary!"
"Wait, I can help—"
"No, we'll meet back up at the Sanctuary! I'll be fine." When Iris doesn't move, he prods her forward. "Go!"
Iris turns and sprints out of the reception, dodging arrows and swinging swords until she makes it to the bridge. She hesitates for a brief second, feeling awful for leaving Veezara there. But she has to follow orders. So, she ducks under the bridge and dashes down the spiral stairs.
She doesn't stop running until she's halfway to the Sanctuary.
"It's done, Astrid," Iris tells the leader, unable to keep a smile off her face.
She's surprised when the blonde returns it. "Wonderful. With Vici's murder, you've started us down a path the Dark Brotherhood hasn't traveled in centuries. The assassination of an Emperor. And now, your reward."
Iris accepts a scroll from Astrid, furrowing her brow when she unrolls it. "What is it?"
"It's a unique spell to summon a legend of the Dark Brotherhood. His soul serves us now in death, as his body once did in life."
Iris peers at the mysterious words, muttering them to herself.
"Now, then. Time to proceed to the next stage of the plan," Astrid continues. She tells Iris to speak with Gabriella and sends her on her way. "Oh, and Iris?"
Iris stops, turning to meet her eyes. "Yes?"
"Be sure to ask Delvin Mallory about that amulet. Soon."
Iris's blood runs cold at the thought. "Oh, uh, yes. I will." She shifts to move, but finds herself locked in Astrid's steady gaze.
"You've been avoiding going to speak with him," the assassin says. "Why?"
Iris shakes her head, her eyes going to stare at her boots. "It's nothing."
But Astrid strides closer, placing a reassuring hand on the Breton's arm. "You can tell me. We're Family."
Iris's mouth twitches into a small smile at the notion. "I know. I guess…I just don't want to face them."
"Who?"
Iris sighs. "I'm part of the Thieves Guild. I'm supposed to be their Guildmaster, actually. But…I haven't been back there in so long. They probably think I've abandoned them. And—" She stops, her chest tightening at the thought of her (former?) best friend.
"Guildmaster?" Astrid raises her eyebrows. "And the Listener? And the Dragonborn? You have a lot of titles, dear."
A scoff leaves the thief's lips. "Don't I know it."
"Listen, Iris." Astrid's hands rest on Iris's shoulders. "Don't let it worry you. You're good at lying. Tell them that you and the Dark Brotherhood have a casual relationship. Delvin won't think anything of it. He still conducts business with us, after all."
"It's not Delvin I'm worried about," Iris mutters.
"Tell him to keep it a secret. He's a trustworthy man, for a thief. He'll honor your wishes."
"Alright." Iris raises her violet eyes to Astrid's blue. "Thank you, Astrid."
The assassin smiles warmly as she drops her hands. "Anytime. Now, go on and talk to Gabriella."
Iris gives her a nod before walking into the Sanctuary.
"Listener!"
"Hi, Cicero." She smiles at the jester.
"Cicero heard of the wedding. Ooh, that poor, poor bride!" Cicero lets out a high-pitched laugh.
Laughing softly, Iris touches his shoulder. "You should've tagged along."
He beams at her. "Oh, yes. I would love to serve the great Listener."
"Maybe I'll have you come with me sometime." She smiles. "But for now, I have to go talk with Gabriella."
"Oh, yes. About the Emperor, hmm?"
Iris nods. "I'll see you later."
Iris finds Gabriella hunched over her alchemy table, as usual, and the older assassin gives her a new contract.
"Wait, so I have to stalk Commander Maro's son and then kill him when he's in town?" Iris tries to clarify.
"Is that a problem?" Gabriella arches an eyebrow.
Iris shakes her head quickly. "No, I just…I feel kind of bad for Commander Maro, I guess. He'll be losing his only son."
The older woman's eyebrows furrow exponentially. "There's no room for empathy in this line of work, girl. You must know that."
"I…I know." Iris bows her head. "I'll get it done."
"Good."
At Gabriella's terse dismissal, Iris sets out of the Sanctuary, running into Veezara on the way.
"Veezara!" she greets him.
"Ah, you're back!"
"How was the fight? I'm glad you came back in one piece. I was worried," she admits.
Veezara lets out a throaty laugh. "It's nice of you to worry, but you didn't have to. It was actually pretty fun. I'm sure people won't be forgetting that wedding anytime soon, huh?"
"That's awful," she insists, but can't stop a small chuckle form leaving her mouth. "I had to kill a bride on her wedding day." She doesn't mean to let her sullenness show.
The Argonian shakes his head.
"What?"
"You're the nicest assassin I've ever met, that's for sure."
She drops her eyes, trying to smother the usual guilt eating away at her heart.
"So, you talk to your thief yet? Let him know you're alive and everything?" Veezara asks softly.
Iris sighs, examining the tops of her boots.
"I'm guessing that's a no."
"I have to go into the Guild to ask about Motierre's amulet," she mutters.
"Do you think he'll be there?"
She shrugs. "I don't know."
"Listen, Iris, you need to talk to him. He's probably out of his mind with worry," he urges her.
"I know…I just…" A long exhale leaves her lips. "If I talk with him, he'll ask where I've been, and I don't want him to know about all of this," she gestures to the Sanctuary, "but I don't want to lie to him."
"So, you're just going to keep avoiding him forever?"
Iris says nothing, biting her lip.
"I'm not saying it will be an easy conversation, but you need to set things straight with him. If you truly feel the way you do about him, you need to tell him the truth." He touches her shoulder.
"I know. I'll…I'll try." She finally raises her eyes, giving the Argonian a grateful smile. "Thank you. Sometimes I feel as though you're my only true friend anymore."
"Not for long. Assuming you actually follow my advice for once, of course." He smiles mischievously.
A grin finds its way onto her face, as she turns around to leave. "I'll see you later."
Iris just couldn't stay away from the Dark Brotherhood...and now, she has to go to the Thieves Guild to talk to Devin! Do you think she'll run into Bryn there? What do you think he'd say after not seeing or hearing from her in two weeks?
Let me know in a review! :)
