How to steal a horse, lesson number one: Be sneaky. If you can't be sneaky, smile. Ransom leaned easily on the fence as she chatted to the young farmhand working at Merryfair farm. The dunmer told her his name, which she promptly forgot. She left her hood on, blaming the nonexistent chill in the early morning air, smiling gently at him with her eyes as much as her lips. She was relaxed, calm. Not once did her eyes so much as flicker in the direction of the barn where Thiessen was liberating the choicest of the Merryfair mares. She'd promised him five minutes to work his magic, and she was glad that was all she'd allowed him; her eyes were starting to droop by the time she'd finally managed to disentangle herself from the conversation.

She wandered back in the direction of Riften, but instead of taking a right up to the stables, she went into the woods to the left up a gentle embankment. A few minutes of walking brought her to their rendezvous point, where Thiessen was waiting, looking very proud of himself. In his hand was the reigns of a beautifully ordinary-looking chestnut mare, happily grazing.

"He looked pleased to see you," Thiessen purred.

"The hand? Well, he won't be once he realized what we've done... Only one?"

"You only give me five minutes, I only give you one horse. Besides," he gestured back and forth between them. "We are both small people, how many horses do we need?"

Ransom sighed audibly. "So I guess that's why you didn't bother to get a saddle?"

"This one thinks you're too soft for this job," Thiessen quipped, tail sweeping back and forth with an air of mischief. Ransom chuckled.

"This one thinks you're a stupid runt and should shut it," she hurled back, bumping against him intentionally as she walked past. "We should walk it for a couple miles before we pick up the road. I don't want anyone to see us." Thiessen flourished his hand out to the wilderness in front of them

"Lead on!"

They did their best to joke, but as they trekked deeper into the wilderness, things became more and more unrecognizable. It took about an hour to find a way down from the hills and for Ransom to decide it was safe enough to ride. Thiessen was the horse wrangler of the two, and so he took the reigns as Ransom sat behind him, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. She could feel his chest rising and falling in time with his anxiety. Certainly they had done jobs outside of the city, and they often came out to meet with the khajiit caravans that camped nearby, but they'd never been so far that they couldn't see Mistveil keep in the distance. The smile that permanently played on Thiessen's face disappeared into a tight jaw and a furrowed brow. His eyes were constantly moving, like he was expecting something to attack at any moment.

"Did I ever tell you the story of the Archery Lesson? The one I found in that tunnel near the meadery?"

"Only a thousand times, but tell me again," he urged gently. The words have barely left his mouth when the words of the book came pouring out of hers. That was her way of trying to cheer him up, with her books and stories that he couldn't read himself. It was the same way she comforted herself when she needed to fill up a fearful, unfamiliar space. Thiessen didn't really listen, but the sound of her animated voice was enough to make him relax.

XxX

They tied the mare up at a tree just outside of Ivarstead. If anyone recognized the horse, it was best not to be seen with it. They'd been given enough septums for a hot meal, but as Thiessen counted out the coins it became obvious that they'd be sleeping outside. He glanced up and Ransom.

"Hot food tonight or tomorrow morning?" he asked. She had her hands tucked under her armpits to try and warm them up. Her eyes flicked from the small purse to the warm lights of the Vilemyr inn.

"...Tonight," she decided. Thiessen nodded and tucked the purse into one of his pockets.

There weren't many eyes in Ivarstead, but it felt as if every single one of them were on the strange pair. Both reflexively put up their hoods to try and deflect the gazes. Thiessen was used to it, Ransom as well to a lesser extent, but both wanted to get out from under the withering suspicion of the townsfolk. The inn was mercifully empty, and the barkeep didn't give them more than a cursory glance. Apparently the possibility of spent gold was more important than the fact that a beast man was dirtying up the air he was breathing, and they were soon sat down in front of two bowls of stew and bread. Ransom tore off a big chunk of bread and dipped it before stuffing it tactlessly in her mouth.

"That apple wasn't enough for you?" Thiessen joked between more measured spoonfuls.

"Well I'm sorry I didn't have a lot of time to eat between getting you out and Frey sending us on this ludicrous mission… since when do we care what the bumpkins in Riverwood think of us?"

"Delvin's been looking to expand for as long as I've known him… I suppose it's as good a place as any."

"At least for chumps like us. I bet Vex is running amok in Windhelm as we speak."

"Mhmn, stealing silverware off the great Jarl Ulfric. Now that is a sight I'd love to see." He watched the heavy wooden door open over Ransom's shoulder, admitting a group of rowdy nords fresh from the nearby fields. "We should go." Ransom moved to object, but she realized with disappointment that he was right. The inn was starting to fill up with people that would remember their faces, and she'd managed to eat most of her meal without hardly noticing. Thiessen wrapped what was left of his bread in a strip of cloth and left a few coins on the table. It was less than the meal was worth, but they couldn't afford to be upstanding citizens on this trip.

It was colder now that the sun had set, and Ransom was glad to have a full belly. The stars were out, showing off their cold beauty. She let herself admire them as they walked back to their horse, until Thiessen interlaced his fingers with hers and stopped. She looked at him with confusion, but then she heard it, two guards talking. They were just on the other side of the trees, she would have walked right into them

"They said to be on the lookout for a chestnut mare, you think this is the one?"

"They'd've tied her up in town if they weren't trying to hide something. Dravin and Synda will be happy to have her back."

Thiessen gave Ransom a sad look; guess they were walking to Riverwood. He led her silently through the underbrush, keeping a hold on her hand in the darkness. They didn't stop until they could see Lake Gier. Near the water was a little cave, and he pulled her inside.

"Does it have to be here?" Ransom whimpered quietly, casting fearful looks down at the water. She watched intently for movement "There could be mudcrabs…" Thiessen took her wrist and pulled her gently down next to him. He wrapped his arm around her, and she pressed against him, trying to keep them both warm.

"Look how far we are from the water, nothing is going to come all this way for two scrawny runts like us. It would be best not to build a fire though, just in case." Ransom was afraid he would say that. It was summer in the southern part of Skyrim, but the nights still bit at you. She hugged him closer.

"Tonight cold stone and monsters, tomorrow a mountain path full of bandits."

"You did say you wanted us to find trouble together," Thiessen reminded her. She didn't reply, but he knew she was smiling.

They got up again before the sun rose, shared the little amount of bread Thiessen had saved, and set off, sneaking through the woods in the purplish mist of morning. They gave Ivarstead a wide berth, but it took longer than they expected. The place seemed to be crawling with Rift guards. Ransom tapped on the khajiit's shoulder as the latest patrol strolled past, feet from their position. The confusion in her face was clear: Why so many guards for a horse thief? He shook his head in reply. The guards thinned out the closer they got to the border, but they didn't move any less carefully, staying off the roads. They'd heard stories of caravans going missing on the very route they'd been ordered to take. Mostly it was assumed to be the work of bandits, but whispers of horrifying creatures hiding in the mountain pass made Ransom's blood run cold at every noise.

"Do you think the rumors about the ghouls are real?" she asked as the day wore on without incident. He shrugged.

"I doubt it. Peoples always embellish stories. Sitting in a tavern, a little too much mead, would you rather tell a story about bandits, or demon elves crawling out of the ground?"

"I heard someone at the Bee and Barb say that they looked like men, but they crawled along the ground on all fours and they screamed like animals, and they were all green and sickly like corpses."

"Probably a caravan guard enjoying one too many of Talon-Jai's cliff racers…" His voice faded away. Ransom glanced up from her frozen feet to see him staring intently into the distance, both ears twitching.

"Do you see that?" He pointed out over the mountains. Far away, a thick column of smoke billowed high into the sky. "It looks like a fire, but a whole town would have to be up in flames for that much smoke."

"I think I can still see it burning…"

Thiessen wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her off the road, through the high snow drifts, and behind a tall rock formation. She looked at him in confusion. He pressed a finger to his lips, then silently drew his bow and hand made arrows. Ransom put a hand on the hilt of a sword. She'd never killed anyone before, but she wasn't above distracting an attacker so Thiessen could get off a shot.

It took about a minute before she could hear what he heard; creaky wagon wheels, slowly coming towards them, and horses hooves. She leaned carefully out from behind the rocks just as the small caravan came into view. The horses were carrying guards bearing the sigil of the Whiterun hold, and they were guiding a small gaggle of disheveled nords. One older man was pulling the squeaky cart, which held a few sacks and possessions. They were walking in complete silence, heads down, faces full of despair. It almost felt like ghosts were passing in front of them. The two thieves waited until the group had trudged out of sight before they continued.

It only got worse as their trek continued. Blackened, charred trees began to appear on the path. Soon, they were confronted by the barred doors of Helgen. Smoke was still billowing out from behind the doors, and there was no doubt that the sad company that had just passed were the only survivors.

"What could have done this… bandits?"

"A clan strong enough to topple a town and its guard? I don't think so… you don't think so do you?"

"I don't want to find out. Let's get out of here."

"Anyone coming?"

"Nope, doesn't look like there's a single soul in this town."

"Good, I like it that way. Blow on this." Thiessen held up his lock pick, and Ransom dutifully complied. Then he set to it, making short work of the lock on the front door of the Riverwood Trader. The hinges of the store were well oiled, and they swung open without a sound. The inside smelled like fresh food and expensive herbs. Ransom instinctively grabbed a nearby apple as she looked around the dark room, then went back out onto the porch. Usually she would be the one rooting through the shelves, but on night raids they had a system: Ransom would stay outside and watch for passerby, while Thiessen would ransack the joint more easily with his sensitive eyes.

"It's not here," he hissed quietly. She glanced over her shoulder in alarm. He was out of sight, but she could hear faint rustling as Thiessen moved bottles and scraps of parchment behind the counter. She was going to remind him what Frey said, that the claw should have been sitting right out on the counter, but it was pointless. Even from where she was standing it was obvious that nothing that even vaguely resembling a gaunt dragon hand was anywhere in sight. She glanced back and forth along the main road. Not even a chicken to raise anyone's suspicion.

"Maybe they hid it?" she whispered back, slipping into the room and closing the door until the latch sat gently at the frame, not quite shut. Thiessen was doing a thorough search of the many shelves, so she checked the other side of the room. Under the stairs were several shipping barrels. On the floor behind them was a locked chest. She smirked. Gotcha. Out came her lockpick. She blew on it as she had Thiessen's and inserted it into the lock. The ches was old and the lock clumsy, and she barely had to think to get it to turn. Her fingers had done it so many times that they practically guided themselves.

Even if she hadn't screamed as the fire salts scattered into her eyes, the explosion of the trap bag was loud enough to wake up all of Whiterun hold. She tumbled backwards onto the carpet even as Thiessen dove to catch her. She scratched at her face, tears flowing from her blinded eyes. She could smell her skin sizzle. There was shouting from upstairs. Thiessen threw one of her arms over his shoulders and wheeled around to escape, but three guards already barred the door, pikes lowered and ready. A middle aged imperial man came rushing down the stairs, lantern held aloft, laughing like a mad man.

"I told you! You thought I was crazy but I told you Camilla, I knew they would come back. My claw wasn't enough for you eh? What did you want this time? My gold, my life?!"

Thiessen didn't reply. There was nothing to say, and Ransom was writhing in agony in his arms. He tried to brush the salt off her burning skin, but jerked away reflexively. One touch sent a heat he'd never felt before coursing through his hand, singeing the hairs on his palm and fingers. Before he had a chance to try again, two sets of arms grabbed each of his and hauled him to his feet, wrenching her out of his grasp. She curled up in a ball, choking back sobs of terror and pain. Thiessen tried desperately to free himself from the iron grasp of the guards, but one punch from the remaining nord sent him slack in their hands. He then grabbed a fistful of Ransom's hair and yanked her up as well.

"Put these rats in chains."