4 years later…

Issana was lounging in the Ragged Flagon, booted feet on a table, chair balanced on its rear legs, a half-full bottle of wine in one hand and an empty bottle on the table. Delvin walked past and snickered. "Celebrating, are we?"

"Go 'way, Delvin," Issana muttered. "I earned that money and nearly ended up in jail fer it." She waved the bottle drunkenly. "You think 's'easy stealin' outta the barracks?"

"Mind if I join you?"

Issana waved him towards the empty chair across from her. "Go 'head. But this is mine." She took a big gulp from the bottle in her hand.

Delvin laughed and took a sip from a hip flask. "Word is that Mercer's got a contract coming your way."

"Contract? I jus' got back from a contract."

"This one's big."

"Know what else is big?" Issana said. "Yer ego, Delvin." She pointed a finger accusingly at him with her bottle hand.

Delvin raised his eyebrows. "Well, now, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what is."

Brynjolf appeared as if out of nowhere, causing Issana's chair to lurch and wine to spill over her trousers. "Mercer wants to speak to you." He glanced at the empty bottle on the table. "But if this is a bad time…"

Issana put the bottle down gently, eyeing it suspiciously. "No, no, 's'fine. I'm fine." She rose to her feet slowly, blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes. "We're-we're good."

"Come on, you," Brynjolf chuckled, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'll come along just to make sure things go smoothly."

The room seemed unusually wobbly as Brynjolf guided her towards the door to the cistern. Issana shook her head hard to clear it. Brynjolf glanced worriedly at her. "You all right, lass? You can take a bit if you need to clear your head."

"No, I'll be fine," Issana said, concentrating on being coherent. "If there's one thing I learned from Thrynn, it's how to-" She hiccuped uncomfortably. "-how to drink properly."

"You're lucky Mercer already respects you," Brynjolf said, shoving her through the doorway. "Otherwise I don't think he'd approve of a meeting in this condition."

Mercer was waiting for them at his desk. "Ah, Issana, good. I think it's time we really put your expertise to the test."

"What's the job, boss?" Issana said, louder than she'd meant to. Brynjolf kicked her foot as Mercer wrinkled his nose at the scent of wine on her breath.

"Goldenglow Estate," said Mercer after a long pause.

Issana frowned. "Isn't that where-"

"Where Vex tried to get in and nearly got herself killed?" Mercer finished. "Yes. In fact, that's part of why I'm sending you in. I know how you two like to outdo each other."

Issana shrugged. "Count me in."

"Good. Goldenglow is critically important to one of our largest clients-"

"Maven Black-Briar," Issana said. Brynjolf kicked her again.

Mercer frowned at the interruption but nodded. "Yes. However, the owner has suddenly decided to take matters into his own hands and shut us out. He needs to be taught a lesson."

"Makes sense. What's the goal?"

"Goldenglow is a bee farm," said Mercer. "They raise the damn things for honey. It's owned by some smart-mouthed wood elf named Aringoth. You need to teach him a lesson by torching some of the hives. And," he added, "clearing out the safe in his basement."

"Oh, good," said Issana. "I was hoping there'd be something that would need someone of my…" She twirled a lockpick that had seemingly materialized in her hand. "...expertise."

"Are you drunk?" said Mercer.

"No!" she exclaimed. "Well, yes, but I won't be when I need to do the job."

"Well, you'd better sober up fast," said Mercer. "Because you're going in tonight. You've got four hours."

"Shouldn't be a problem."

"Oh, and one more thing," said Mercer. "Don't burn the whole place to the ground. Our important client would be very unhappy if you did."

"Don't worry," Issana said. "It's as good as done."