Ivarstead seemed like an insect clinging to the mountain's base. The Throat of the World soared away above the town's low rooftops while its base spread as far as the eye could see. Issana could hardly even bring herself to stare up at it; the sheer size made her head spin.

It was early afternoon as they reached Ivarstead's homely little inn. A man sat on the front porch, leaning back in a chair with his eyes mostly closed. His beard was beginning to grey and his face looked weathered.

His eyes opened as they stepped towards the door. "Ho there, travellers! What brings you to Ivarstead?"

Issana and Rune glanced at each other before Rune answered. "Passing through on our way to Whiterun."

"Whiterun?" said the man, scratching his bald head. "That's quite a journey."

Issana snorted. "I know."

"Well," the man said, "allow me to give you a personal welcome. My name is Klimmek. I'm a fisherman down on the river."

"Glad to meet you," said Rune. Issana nodded in agreement.

Klimmek rose. "I'd better get back to work. And welcome, again." He strode away.

Issana reached for the door and looked at Rune. "Do people seem friendlier outside of Riften to you?"

"Maybe it's because people outside Riften don't have to constantly watch their pockets."

The interior of the inn was lit by a long hearth in the centre of the room. Tables lay around the perimeter, and at the far end was a bar with a man leaning on it. He glanced up at them as they entered. "Welcome to Vilemyr Inn, travellers. If there's anything I can get you, just let me know."

Issana let her pack slide heavily off of one shoulder to where it hit the ground with a thump. "Comfort, at last." She dragged her pack towards the bar. "Do you know how unpleasant it is, sleeping outside for a week?"

The innkeeper gave a light chuckle. "In from Riften, then? We don't get many visitors through here, unless they're headed up to High Hrothgar."

Issana collapsed onto a stool. "Mead, if you have it. Otherwise beer. What's High Hrothgar?"

Rune joined her. "You've never heard of High Hrothgar? The Greybeards?"

"No." She reached for the bottle of mead the innkeeper had placed in front of her. "It may have escaped you, but I didn't exactly have a story-filled childhood."

"I didn't mean it like that," said Rune. "It's just that… well, everyone knows about it. I thought you would have heard something over the years."

Issana drank deeply. "That's good stuff. You want some? I'll buy."

"If you're buying, sure." Rune gestured for the innkeeper to get him a bottle as well. "High Hrothgar is…" He looked at the innkeeper. "Actually, you can probably say better than I can."

The innkeeper shrugged. "It's a monastery, I suppose. Home of the Greybeards."

"Who are they?"

"I'm not rightly sure," said the innkeeper. "I've never met one. It's said that they have mighty voices which they use to praise the goddess Kynareth. Or at least it's something like that. No one really knows for sure." He leaned an elbow on the bar. "But High Hrothgar, that's where they live. Up at the top of the Seven Thousand Steps."

Issana raised her eyebrows. "That's a long way up."

"Not really," laughed the innkeeper. "Not compared to the mountain itself. I don't think anyone has ever made it to the top. At least, not outside of legends."

"But people come through here? To head to High Hrothgar?"

The innkeeper nodded. "It's a pilgrimage of sorts. Some people find the climb a good time to reflect."

"Well," Issana said, raising her bottle, "here's how I reflect." She drained the rest of the mead and thumped it down on the bar. "Another."

The barkeeper obliged, happily scooping Issana's coins off the counter. "Since you're not headed to High Hrothgar," he said, "might I ask where you're bound instead?"

"Whiterun," said Issana. "Damn, this mead is good. Where's it from? It's nothing like Black-Briar."

"No, it's from a smaller meadery," said the innkeeper. "Near Whiterun, funnily enough. I bring a few shipments of it in every once in awhile. Honningbrew, it's called."

Issana took another swig. "I might have to stop in there, bring a few bottles back to Riften."

Rune snorted. "Hah. It'd be gone within three days."

"Depends how much I got."

The innkeeper laughed. "Well, I'll let you two be for awhile, maybe sweep a bit before the evening crowd. If you need anything, my name's Wilhelm. Just shout for me."

Rune watched as Issana drained the second bottle. He chuckled and shook his head. "If you're done, we should probably replenish our supplies. There aren't many villages between here and Whiterun, so we'll need to be stocked up for a few days at least."

Issana groaned. "Right… We're still only halfway." She gave the two empty bottles a dejected look. "Fine. Let's go."

They returned to the inn just after sundown, packs restocked with rations. It was busier now; there were maybe a dozen people at the various tables and a bard was playing a slow, beautiful melody on her lute. Issana sat down at an empty table in the corner and Rune took the chair opposite her. Wilhelm appeared beside them. "More Honningbrew?"

Issana grinned. "You know me already."

"Maybe I should bring you each a few bottles."

Issana nodded approvingly. "What an excellent idea. Four each." She counted out the coins and winked at Rune. "To start."

"We do have to walk tomorrow, you know," Rune said.

"And if my head hurts bad enough, I won't notice my feet."

"Fair enough."

Wilhelm returned with the bottles and set them on the table. "Enjoy. Just shout if you need anything."

Rune drank deeply. "Ah, it's good to be off my feet."

"Hear, hear!" said Issana, raising her bottle. "We should spend a few days in Whiterun once this is over, just relax for awhile."

Rune snorted. "Easy for you to say. With Maven employing you, you've got more money right now than most of the guild combined."

"Well, you know what they say. If you want it done right, pay for the best."

"You really are shameless."

"Being humble is boring."

Rune laughed. "Not everyone has a choice." He finished off the first bottle and put it down gently. "So, Great Thief, what's the best heist you've pulled?"

"The one that made us richest or the one that I enjoyed the most?"

"Aren't they the same thing to you?"

"Hah, not anymore. This one's paying the best but it's certainly not my idea of fun."

Rune laughed. "You don't even know what the job is yet. And you get to spend a month with me. I'm fun."

"No, Thrynn is fun. It's like watching a big, dumb dog getting a treat every time Mercer tells him to go hit somebody." She finished her bottle. "A big, smelly dog."

"All right, so what job did you enjoy the most?"

Issana leaned her chair back on two legs thoughtfully. "Hmm. Actually, I think the most fun I ever had was just picking pockets in the market. Did you ever see that bosmer-oh, what was her name… Nivenor. The one with all the expensive clothing and jewelry?"

Rune smiled knowingly and laughed. "How could I forget her?" His voice took on a high, mocking tone. "If the poor are that hungry, why don't they just grow food or something?"

"Did she really say that?" Issana laughed.

"Heard her myself."

Issana shook her head in mock despair. "Some people. Still, she was at least good for some amusement. Bolli! Bolli! Some beggar has made off with my necklace again! Bolli! Bolli! Bolli!"

Rune smiled at her for a moment. She frowned. "What?"

"You know I didn't mean it when I called you a heartless bitch, right?"

"What?"

Rune set his mead down. "Before we left."

"No, I know. What do you mean you didn't mean it?"

"You're not."

Issana burst out laughing. "Rune, I'm a professional thief. I steal from people for money. Damn right I'm a heartless bitch."

"I don't think you are."

"Yeah, well, you're missing something then." Issana drained her second bottle.

Rune leaned forwards and shook his head. "No, really. You're not. You do what you have to do to survive. It's no different from anybody else. We just got dealt worse hands in life than the rest of the world."

"Right," Issana laughed. "We're worse off. I think I made more money on this job than this inn will make in a year."

"I don't mean now," Rune said. "But it's what set us on this path in the first place. My family was poor, so I had to learn how to steal to survive. My father didn't like it, but at least we were fed. And you had nothing when you got booted out of the orphanage. What else were you going to do?"

"Rune," Issana said. "It's all right. I'm not arguing. But I know what I am, and whatever reasons I had when I made the choices I did doesn't change it."

Rune sat back and began a third bottle. "Do you ever think about getting out?"

"What, leaving the Guild?"

"Well, no, not exactly," Rune said. "I don't know. I guess just, you know, finding a job that isn't going to land you in prison one day."

"What job could I ever do besides this?" said Issana. "What skills do I have that would ever let me live an ordinary life?"

Rune smiled. "I don't think you'd ever have an ordinary life."

"Well, no, not with my history."

Rune laughed. "That's not what I meant. It's just… You're the least ordinary woman I've ever met."

"Hah, that's me. The unordinary orphan."

"You know that's not what I meant."

Issana set her mead down. "So what did you mean?"

Rune hesitated for a moment. "When I first met you four years ago, I knew you were something special. You were tough, clever, had a sense of humor..."

"Hear, hear."

"See what I mean?" said Rune. "And you've just… I don't know. Become more than that since then. We've always been friends, but the more I see you the more I wish… The more I wish that we could be more than that."

Issana was suddenly very grateful she'd set her mead down when she did, or she would have dropped it. "I…" she began. "I don't know what to say. I didn't know you felt that way."

Rune leaned towards her. "Now you do. What do you say?"

Issana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm sorry, Rune. You've always been my friend and you always will be. I just… I don't think I can be anything more than that for you."

Rune nodded slowly. "All right. I appreciate the honesty." He glanced over his shoulder. "Where did Wilhelm get to? I think I'm going to turn in for the night." He got to his feet. "Thanks for the mead."

Issana watched him go. "Rune, wait."

Rune slowed and turned to face her again. Issana suddenly realized she hadn't thought of anything to say. "See you tomorrow."

Rune nodded and walked away. When he was gone, Issana's chin sank down into her palm. She let out a heavy sigh and stared at the three remaining bottles of mead. "Well done, Issana," she muttered. "Well done." She grabbed Rune's last bottle and added it to her own before looking around for Wilhelm.

It was going to be a long night.