~Authors Note~

Hello everyone~! This may be the last chapter for a week or so. It is spring break and I'm down in Myrtle Beach working as well as vacationing. My work is a very hectic thing, and is constantly keeping me busy, and even though I'm mainly working at night I still have to spend time with my many friends and family down here. I will try and get the next chapter up soon, but for now here is the sixth!

Yours Eternally, Erin

The air was crisp and cool as it gently led the falling leaves in their final dance before their carcasses were left to rot on the cold ground. Hearthfire was coming to an end quickly; its tired arms welcoming Frostfall happily to take its place. Beyond the horizon, the sun was just beginning to peak up, accenting the sky with a soft purple hue. Besides the song birds, the loud nickering of a horse was the only sound in the early morning hours.

"Hush now, you shall wake the dead with that mindless racket you are producing." Valentyne stroked the stallion's long neck, brushing out his thick mane with an ebony comb. He complied after stomping his hoof a bit. Valentyne laughed, just as soft and gentle as the wind. "You are such a child."

Feeling as if he had been neglecting his friend, Valentyne had woken up a bit early to take care of him before heading off to another training session with Niruin. Valentyne had been right about the awkward feeling of swordplay; it simply wasn't for him. Yet, when he held a bow, it felt almost as right as holding his flute. This being so, he had quickly learned the basics, much to Niruin's delight. At first the elf had been uneasy at training him, fearing that it would be just like training an infant to walk.

Aside from marksman training, he had been getting little tips from Delvin on how to properly sneak. Valentyne didn't understand why he would need it, though. He had already told Brynjolf he refused to do anything other than being the debt collector. In his mind, Valentyne didn't think he even had to comply with that. He entertained at the Flagon every night, so much so that he was running out of stories to tell. Maybe the extra work was due to his refusal to sing. It was possible; many had been disappointed when he said he wouldn't.

Getting the final knot out of the stallion's mane, Valentyne stroked his face, rubbing the white streak of hair that ran down his nose. Valentyne snuggled his face into his nose, and in response the stallion huffed and nuzzled him back, knocking off his cap in the process. The hot breath tickled his neck, and Valentyne giggled, unaware of the sudden appearance of a man behind him.

"Excuse me lass, but have you seen a boy by the name of Valentyne?" Whipping around, Valentyne was surprised to see Brynjolf standing there. His grin was nothing but teasing, causing Valentyne's cheeks to be tinted with a rose pink. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his pout like frown on his face. Brynjolf chuckled, patting Valentyne on the back gently. "You never cease to entertain, do you?"

"Not in your eyes, that is for sure." He put his cap back on, tucking his hair under it. Brynjolf watched as Valentyne turned back to the horse swiftly, trying to hide the growing embarrassment on his face. Having noticed him leave early that morning, he grew a little worried and decided to follow him. Valentyne had this childish way of always asking for permission to leave the Cistern. Brynjolf couldn't understand why, but none-the-less he flattered the boy with orders. So when Valentyne had up and snuck out without a single word to anyone, Brynjolf followed.

He had halfheartedly wanted him to be up to something. They still couldn't waver his innocence, and Mercer was growing more impatient as the days passed. Of course, the other half was relieved. Valentyne was one of the only people he knew to have such a pure heart. He feared if Valentyne were to go down the path of thievery, he would never be the same.

It was a fatherly reaction, he knew, but he found no harm in it as of yet. It would save his ass in the end anyway. Keeping a close watch on Valentyne would keep him unscathed and would keep Brynjolf's head on his neck when Durga returned.

"What's its name?" Brynjolf asked to break the silence. Valentyne looked up at him, one eyebrow raised with such a look in his eyes that made it seem he was seeing Brynjolf with two heads.

"Name? Why, he does not hold a name." The horse huffed, bobbing his head as if in agreement.

"No name? Then what do you call him?"

"What is in a name, Brynjolf? That which we call a rose, by any other word, would smell as sweet," Valentyne said, stroking the horse's neck. "One does not need a name to be, one simply is and that is the truth in the matter."

"Ever the poetic one, I see." Valentyne smiled up at him, indefinite pride in his eyes.

"Though, I find you to have a point. Visual identification would be easier with a name to go by. Any suggestions?" Brynjolf thought, looking the horse over. The horse was large and muscular, with depthless black eyes. His mane was more auburn than the rest of him, and the only other white mark on him was a diamond on its left shoulder blade.

"Well, he is certainly a strong looking one. Seems fast too, and very nimble. With that auburn mane of his, he reminds me of someone I know." Valentyne looked at him with a baffled expression, and it almost made Brynjolf burst into laughter.

"Are you suggesting I name him after you?" He emphasized the 'you', causing Brynjolf to frown.

"What? You don't you think it fits?" Valentyne began to laugh loudly. It was one of the most feminine things about him, even more so than his curly red hair. It was high pitched but soft at the same time, and it always started and ended with a few giggles. It was a lovely sound that he enjoyed to hear, but Brynjolf couldn't help but tease. "Whatever, lass. I thought it was great idea." Valentyne hushed up immediately; face returning to a pink hue as he tried his best to make a threatening glare.

"Y-you can take that word right back into your mouth, Brynjolf," He said in the softest stutter. He almost put his hands on his hips in a very feminine manner, but he casually made it seem as if he were just folding his arms in front of his chest. Unfortunately, Brynjolf's eye was much better than to be deceived so easily. He shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Alright, I apologize, 'lad'," Brynjolf said, and Valentyne nodded his head with his chin held high, satisfied. "We should head back to the Cistern now. Everyone else will be waking up soon." Valentyne put his horse back into the stable, kissing his nose. It was the sweetest of actions, and Brynjolf found himself watching in fascination. There was something abnormal about Valentyne, it was obvious. But what that something was eluded him. Was he just raised to be so gentle? So innocent? Why didn't it bother Brynjolf himself? The few weak recruits he had dealt with in the past he had chastised endlessly, but with Valentyne it was different. Maybe it was that spark of confidence he had hidden underneath. That must have been it. There wasn't another explanation for it.

"Are you just going to dawdle your day away standing around with such a baffled expression, Brynjolf? Or do you wish to follow me?" Snapping out of his daze, he found Valentyne's grin infecting and ended up grinning right back.

They walked into Riften, the streets empty other than the few early risers. It was easier for Valentyne to walk confidently around by his self, and didn't find the need to walk as close to Brynjolf as he used to. He just walked quietly, glancing around as he always did. Unlike Brynjolf, who was always on the lookout for an easy target, Valentyne had earnest curiosity in his eyes. Even though none of the sights were new, he always found something to marvel in. Sometimes he would even comment on it to Brynjolf or whoever else he was with.

"Are you Valentyne?" Both turned around to face the courier, who was breathing heavily. Valentyne nodded with a look of pity for the man. "Here, a letter for you." He was gone as soon as the letter was out of his possession, bolting out of Riften to deliver more letters. Valentyne studied it for a minute, and then opened and began reading quietly to himself. Brynjolf watched as his face turned from that of surprise to confusion, and finally his face was emotionless.

"What does it say lad?" Brynjolf asked as Valentyne folded the letter and stowed it into his pocket. For a minute, Valentyne stared at the ground, lost in thought. Finally, he answered.

"Durga will not be arriving to retrieve me for a while. She said she has other tasks that she wishes not to involve me in to complete first." He frowned, scrunching his nose a bit. Vaguely, Brynjolf could see him gnawing on the inside of his lip. It bothered Valentyne to have to stay longer. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy the company of the Guild, but his guilt was slowly starting to eat away at him. It was like a specter, following him wherever he went. Whenever he awoke from slumber, it followed him through his morning routine, weighing on his shoulders. Every time he left a house with a coin purse in his pocket, it was waiting for him outside with that knowing grin, hissing in his ear. I know what you've done, boy. But still, he found himself collecting the money of the poor when asked. Guilt was just laughing at his gullibility even more now.

"I'm sure Mercer wouldn't mind," Brynjolf said, giving him a pat on the back, clueless to the real reason behind his distress. Valentyne tried his best to smile up at him, letting Brynjolf stay in the dark. "This will give us more time to train you anyway." That was one good thing about it, Valentyne supposed. Still, he couldn't shake the unease off as they finished their walk to the Cistern.

Mercer was behind his desk as always, scribbling intently on a piece of paper. When they neared, he stuffed it away into his book, glaring at them for interrupting whatever it was he had been doing. Aside from Sapphire, Mercer was the only one who still didn't show pleasure from Valentyne's presence. Brynjolf said he didn't really care for anyone, but it still seemed to bother him. It also made him feel uncomfortable to be under that cold gaze.

"Looks like the lad will be staying with us a bit longer than expected," Brynjolf said when Mercer asked of what they wanted. "Durga won't be returning for quite some time." His grimace seemed to deepen, but whether it was a normal reaction or not, Valentyne couldn't tell. After a moment, Mercer nodded and stood up straight.

"Well, if he's to stay, then more work needs to be done. I will not have a child playing around with bows and arrows any longer." Valentyne stiffened, but had a hard time figuring out if it was because of the idea of a new 'job' or if it was the insult he had thrown at him. He fought the urge to scoff as Mercer continued to speak. "I think it's time we put your so called 'talents' to the test."

Brynjolf looked at him, disbelief written all over his face. "Wait a moment… You're not talking about Goldenglow, are you? Even our little Vex couldn't get in. How can you expect someone as new to the game as him to make it?" Valentyne felt a little hurt at this. He knew Brynjolf was right, but he still didn't like to hear it said in such a manner. It made him feel weaker than normal.

"If he really is as amazing as you say he is, Brynjolf, let him prove it," Mercer shot Brynjolf a cold look, then turned back to Valentyne. "Goldenglow is critically important to one of our largest clients, so I expect you not to screw up by acting the foolish runt you are." After telling Brynjolf to instruct Valentyne on what to do, he sent them off.

"What a tool bag," Valentyne grumbled unexpectedly when they were alone in the training room area, causing Brynjolf to look at him with one eyebrow raised. "I cannot believe this. Why is it that he hates me so? Have I done something to spark an angry flame between us? No, I have not." He sat in the middle of the floor after pacing some, staring into the groves of the stone with a distant look in his eyes.

"Don't worry about it lad," Brynjolf said, leaning against the wall by the door. "He acts like that towards everyone. He is actually very impressed with you; he wouldn't be sending you on this job if he wasn't."

"Either that or he wants me to suffer an early end." Brynjolf shot him a look. Valentyne sighed, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "Fine, I shall keep quiet. Now tell me what illegal act I will be partaking in now?" Brynjolf felt a twinge of regret in his heart at that. He had made it sound like he was truly suffering by doing this.

"Goldenglow Estate is a bee farm; they raise the wretched little things for honey. It's owned by a smart-mouth wood elf named Aringoth. We need you to teach him a lesson by burning down three of the estate's hives and clearing out the safe in the main house." Valentyne stared at him, mortified.

"Kill the bees? That is horrible, Brynjolf! They have done nothing of harm to you. Nor to I. Or anyone else in this Guild for that matter." Brynjolf crossed his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow once again. Huffing, Valentyne frowned and stared back at the floor. "You strike my heart coldly, I hope you realize. What is the catch?"

"The catch is that you can't burn the whole place to the ground. The important client Mercer mentioned would be furious if you did." Valentyne scrunched his nose, but nodded simply, going against speaking up again. "Now, on Aringoth's case, Maven prefers him alive… I'm sure you will have no problem in making sure of that." Brynjolf smiled at him, trying to lighten his mood. It failed; Valentyne only fell farther into his remorse. The weight on his shoulders couldn't get any worse than this. "Just remember, lad. The Guild has a lot riding on this. I don't want to imagine what Mercer would do if you mucked it up." Well that was wonderful. Valentyne felt an impossible amount of figurative weight on his shoulders, and they sunk down lower.

"Sounds pleasant," He mumbled, glancing up at Brynjolf. "When is the best time for me to venture to my inevitable doom?" Valentyne was definitely a bard; he always knew when to be overly dramatic about a situation. Sighing deeply, Brynjolf rubbed his temples. Throwing his guilt onto his own shoulders wasn't helping his case, at all.

"Look lad, you should have known this was going to happen eventually. You don't simply stay with us and expect not to work. And no, entertaining us is not enough. Neither is simply collecting debts. Unless you plan on camping out in the woods until the lass gets back, you'll find it best to listen and do as you are told." Valentyne fell silent, looking like a scolded child. Brynjolf just starred evenly at him, and when he was certain the boy wouldn't argue any more points with him, he continued. "As to when you leave, that is all up to you. I would talk to Vex before you go, though. She may have barely made it out alive, but she will be able to tell you all she found out about it." Valentyne just nodded, still sitting cross legged on the floor. And that's where Brynjolf left him, at least his body. His mind, he knew, had traveled much father off to debate every part of this. Brynjolf didn't expect to hear from the boy the rest of the night.