A/N: So sorry for the delay but life has a funny way of not allowing me to write as often as I'd like. Thanks to Biff McLaughlin and Zute for all their wisdom and humor.

So, when we last left Natasja and the thieves, Delvin had gone to Winterhold where he found out Natasja and Karliah were travelling together to Markarth. Karliah and Natasja had Gallus' journal translated and learned of Mercer's treachery, and then returned to Riften on very friendly terms. Natasja and Brynjolf were reunited only to have the news of Mercer's betrayal put the kibosh on any celebrating between the two. They all headed for the vault with a sinking feeling that the Guild was now penniless. Onward!

Promises

"Bryn, how often is the cistern empty? For Mercer to get away with all this right under your noses there must have been times when no one was around to see what he was doing." Brynjolf's head snapped around, his glower on full display as Karliah kept a respectable distance behind them. "Sorry, I'm not placing blame, just trying to make sense of all this."

Knowing she was as nervous as he was about what they would find, the deep breath did little to assuage his anxiety. "I admit we've grown complacent. At one time, there was always at least one person keeping an eye on things. Even so, I wager Mercer had an accomplice to help him."

"I think I have a better answer for you," Karliah said. "And I hate to say it again, but don't be surprised to find the vault empty, Brynjolf. It may have taken Mercer longer to achieve his goal than he originally thought, but I have no doubt he did accomplish it."

Brynjolf's mouth twitched. "It does seem like that's the direction we're heading in." His words were stripped of all repartee now. Natasja couldn't remember hearing his voice so full of restrained anger mingled with resignation. "If we confirm his treachery... Shor's stones, it won't be good."

The narrow hallway leading into the cistern was as dark and damp as always, but thieves now lined the entryway with weapons drawn, suspicious and agitated, and all throwing heated questions at Brynjolf in rapid succession.

"Is it true, Brynjolf? Has Mercer betrayed us?"

"Where is the bastard anyway?"

"Why did you ever trust that Nord girl, Bryn?"

"Does that Dunmer bitch have some sort of control over your protégé?"

Brynjolf's eyes shot to Sapphire, a simmering anger in his tone. "Spreading rumors will not keep you in the Guild's good graces." Sapphire shrank back before he swept his gaze over the other thieves.

"…his trust between her legs," Tonilia muttered.

"I've heard enough!" At Brynjolf's fierce look of disapproval, Tonilia's mouth snapped shut. "I trusted Natasja before, and I trust her now. So should you all. She has brought us evidence that Mercer is the traitor, not Karliah. Put that weapon away, Cynric. You too, Niruin. All of you, sheath your weapons," he ordered with a dark glare, the type of glare that didn't need any more words to go with it.

Delvin saw it, the absolute faith Brynjolf had in Natasja, and he couldn't fault it. Delvin felt much the same about her. Karliah was defensive in her posturing, stone-faced, and Delvin couldn't fault her either. She'd been hated and condemned by many of them for the last twenty years. No easy position for her to be in. "Bryn, care to let us in on what's goin' on here?"

"Karliah and Natasja had Gallus' journal translated in Markham. Gallus figured out that Mercer had been stealing from the Guild for years, and he was close to blowing Mercer's scheme wide open. But what's even worse is he-" Brynjolf stopped, his expression a strange mixture of sadness and betrayal. "He killed Gallus, not Karliah. The bastard snowed us all."

Every pair of eyes darted from Brynjolf to Karliah, some skeptical, some believing.

Vipir moved to stand next to Natasja, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I didn't believe any of the rumors about you, Nat. I swear it."

"Thanks, Vipir. And believe me when I say that Karliah is a good woman too."

"You and Bryn share that opinion and I trust you both." The alert group in front of them relaxed a little when they saw Vipir's calm and supportive posture.

Natasja's gaze lingered on the most disbelieving of the thieves: Thrynn, Cynric and Niruin. "Karliah was behind the Goldenglow and Honningbrew jobs, trying to anger Maven and it ended up forcing Mercer's hand. We actually owe her a debt for bringing this mess to a head." Natasja looked at Karliah, her eyes as compassionate as her smile. "This woman has been through more than any of you can imagine over the years, and all due to Mercer's greed. She harbors no ill will toward the Guild or its members, only Mercer. If we are to keep the Thieves Guild in business, we must stand together as a united front, no matter what we find or don't find in the vault."

At that moment, Brynjolf was proud of Natasja, so damned proud of her he wanted to pull her close and hug her tightly. "I couldn't have said it any better myself, lass." But no smile graced his face, only the clear understanding of what would happen next. "To the vault then."

"Back up a blessed second, Bryn. How could Mercer break into a vault that needs two keys? There's no way he could've picked it."

"That door has the best puzzle locks money can buy," Vex said. "I've spent more time trying to pick that lock than I have out on jobs." A few eyebrows rose at that. "To make sure it was unbreakable, you idiots."

"He didn't need to pick the lock," Karliah said as she followed them.

Brynjolf peered at her over his shoulder. "You can explain your theory after we get into the vault. Use your key, Del. The whole truth lies inside and not on anyone's lips."

Delvin's key slid into the hole and he turned it partway around. "Now you, Bryn."

Brynjolf stared at his key, willing his hand steady. "The moment of truth." With a slow twist and a click, he unlocked the door and slipped inside.

Empty. The vault door stood wide open, as were the wooden chests within — and every chest was empty.

"By the eight, it's true."

All that remained were insignificant items that had been obviously left, bits and pieces of no import, lying in disarray on a bundle of cloth, confirming the unspeakable.

"He took everything, every bit of gold, the jewels, all our plans." Delvin stood between Brynjolf and Natasja, thunderstruck.

"That son of a bitch. I'll kill him!" Vex reached for her blade and launched forward, her eyes boring into Natasja's. "And you too!"

Natasja thrust out her arm, her hand poised to squeeze Vex's throat.

"Vex! Stow it. Right now," Brynjolf ordered. "This isn't the time to lay blame and lose your head."

Delvin strong-armed his way between the two women. "Come on, Vex, this ain't helpin' matters."

"Fine. I'll back off for now. But if any of this points to her, I promise I'll make her pay," Vex spat as Natasja spun around and dragged Vipir toward a large pickling barrel used to hold salt pile.

"You smell that, Vipir? It smells like rotten eggs."

"That's death, Nat. The smell of the dead."

Something was sticking out of the barrel, something that looked like… a foot?

"Gods, that's a foot," Natasja said. "And what's that attached to the toe?"

Vipir pulled on the tag and made a sound of surprise as he looked at it. "A circle with a square inside. Hey, Del, Mercer has a message for you."

Delvin snatched the note. "Bloody bastard. That's my shadowmark for 'empty'."

Brynjolf's breathing grew labored and his nostrils flared. "Gods damned thief adding insult to injury."

Natasja braced herself against the wall and pushed the barrel over with both legs. Viper helped her unload the contents. The body of a stranger slid out, only partially dehydrated, and from the look of it, the person had only been dead a couple days.

"That's one loose end he tied up," Delvin remarked as he searched the body carefully. "A short man..no personal effects. Looks like fancy mage robes, don't it?"

"Aye." Brynjolf's mind was whirling as his mouth ran on of its own accord. "Vex and Del, go watch the Flagon. Mercer won't set foot near us again, but you never know who else is working for him. No strangers in or out. And send Dirge here to get rid of this body and tell him to put out feelers for information on a missing mage."

Vex grabbed Delvin by the arm, dragging him off as he spoke. "Keep us informed, Bryn. We're takin' Niruin with us too!"

"The rest of you, stay on guard and watch the entrance. Sapphire, you head outside and remain hidden around the cemetery for a while, keeping an eye out for strangers."

"Me? Why do I have go out there?"

"Because I told you to," Brynjolf said with a sternness in his voice that made it abundantly clear she was dealing with a remarkably different second-in-command now. "We'll work in shifts, and I'll send out someone to switch with you in two hours."

Feeling as though this was her punishment for spreading rumors, a sentence she realized she deserved, Sapphire nodded respectfully and walked away.

"Brynjolf," Karliah whispered stepping forward, "there are still a few very important pieces to this puzzle, things you don't know about Mercer. Natasja already knows some of it, but I think it would be best if no one other than you heard just yet."

"It can't get any worse, can it?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so."

"Blast." Brynjolf's nerves were shot. It was harder than ever to maintain his usual optimistic outlook. "Okay, the three of us are going to sit down, eat something, and plan our next move."

After the first rush of mindless motion, the minutes ticked away in silence as one by one, the thieves dispersed. Natasja moved to sit next to Brynjolf, with Karliah across from them. Quiet still hung over the table as Brynjolf slid a plate of cheese and bread toward Natasja, encouraging her to eat with a small smile and a nod. Karliah shifted uneasily.

"All right, lass, tell me how Mercer was able to get inside the vault."

"First, you must know that Mercer is a Nightingale, a member of the trinity that included Gallus and me."

"You must be daft. The Nightingales aren't real."

"They are very real, and very dangerous. Everything you've read about the Nightingales is true, Brynjolf, but the details of Mercer's induction do not matter right now. What does matter is that he stole the Skeleton Key of Nocturnal, which is a unique and unbreakable lockpick able to release any lock's mechanism, and that is how he got into the vault. But more importantly, the key is also a tool that can expand the mind of whoever possesses it, unlocking hidden potential and untapped abilities. This is why it so frightening to know it is in Mercer's corrupt hands."

He looked into Karliah's eyes and knew she was serious. Hearing the truth was hard enough for Brynjolf. Admitting the truth was even harder. "But Nocturnal is supposed to be a daedric prince. How could she let a simple thief steal the key?"

"That is a mystery. Some say she revels in the chaos the artifact causes, others believe she simply does not care, that the petty squabbles of men and mer are beyond her attention. In any case, as a Nightingale, it is incumbent upon me to recover the key."

"I always thought the tales of Nightingales were made up to keep young footpads in line." He shook his head. "My own mother told me the tales when I was a lad. You've certainly stunned me, Karliah."

"Gallus, Mercer and I swore our oaths, but Mercer… he never cared about what it meant to serve Nocturnal, only his own selfish needs. With the special powers imbued by Nocturnal and the key, it will make it almost impossible for us to find him. And even if we do, he will be a formidable enemy against any man or beast."

Anger churned like acid inside Brynjolf, corroding and burning his veins. "Formidable enemy or not, Mercer needs to die, and by my hand preferably. There must be a clue to his whereabouts somewhere," Brynjolf said, his eyes shifting in thought. "Karliah, would you excuse us? I'd like to speak with Natasja alone for a moment."

"Of course. I will stand guard alongside the others, if you are receptive to the idea, Brynjolf."

"That would be fine, Karliah. I should have already welcomed you back into the fold, but technically, I should speak with Delvin and Vex first. Peacekeeping, you know," he said wearily. "I'll have Rune take a message to them."

"I understand."

Brynjolf stood and took Natasja by the elbow. She winced under the strong fingers digging into her skin as he led her to a darkened corner by the back wall.

"You've got quite a grip on me, Bryn."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He released her with an apologetic look. "My head is spinning, lass. I've known Mercer for so many years, and I never thought… ah, I should have seen this coming."

"Betrayal is so insidious, so devious. It's the worst kind of crime, especially against your own. You had no reason to believe Mercer would ever do this."

"I know. It just chaps my arse is all." He nodded slowly, his frustration a tangible thing. When he looked at Natasja, his expression saddened more, his brows narrowing at the sight of her concerned face. "And here I thought your return would be cause for celebration. We're all in grave danger now and that worries me. I'm particularly worried for you, lass. You'd better think over your involvement with the Guild carefully. This isn't what you signed on for."

"I don't care what I signed on for, Bryn." A wry, half-laugh escaped from her. "For better or for worse, I'm part of this family and I will not desert it, even if you order me to do so."

Her modest courage filled him with admiration, lifted his spirits with the faith it conveyed. "Stubborn woman. Do you know that when Mercer told me of your death, it affected me in ways I still have trouble putting into words?"

"I'm sure you were surprised… well, not nearly as surprised as I was when he stabbed me," she said, trying to lighten the mood. But she had forgotten how piercing Brynjolf's gaze could be when his emotions rose too high for his own comfort. "I couldn't bear to think of you grieving. That's why I had to send Saturnalia back here."

"I'm so sorry, lass. If I had known what he was about I would never have let you go with him."

"I know, Bryn. I thought of you every day I was gone, wondering if you mourned me or not, wondering if Saturnalia had come back here. Thank the gods I had Karliah to see me through it all. She was like a sister to me those weeks, a confessor, a mother. If I were alone, I'm not sure I would've survived."

He laughed. "That's nonsense. You are Natasja Black-Nail, esteemed member of the Thieves Guild and one of the most determined women I've ever met. You will always survive."

"Your confidence in me is overwhelming, Bryn. And I swear I will never betray you or the Guild. Never."

"You don't need to convince me of that, Natasja. But you didn't tell Karliah of your other calling, did you?" She shook her head. "No matter. She doesn't need to know yet, and it has no bearing on the matters at hand."

"I agree." Her eyes searched his, searched for the love he couldn't, or wouldn't, communicate openly. Her hand went to his cheek and ran along the hard lines that gave his face so much strength and character. And she knew the depth of his character, feeling more pride and respect than she'd felt for him before. "It is good to be home," she whispered. "With you."

"And it's good to have you home, lass." She let her hand linger on his cheek, his eyes half-lidded as he leaned into her touch. The look he gave her then was sweet, so tender and full of promise, an expression she'd seen only once before on his normally unreadable face. "We have no choice but to search for Mercer right now, so let's hold off on these thoughts running through our heads until later."

"Practicing your mind reading while I was gone?"

He shook his head. "I just know we are of a similar mind. But you and I are going to go infiltrate his house first. There must be a clue there."

"He has a house here in Riften?"

"Aye, Riftweald Manor. You know, the big place next to the Temple of Mara. It was given to Mercer by the Black-Briars years ago."

"I assumed it was abandoned. I've never seen anyone come or go."

"I've only been there a few times myself, but I know it's well booby trapped. We'll have to get his watchdog Vald to give us the key somehow too."

"This Vald guy will not be willing, I imagine."

"No, he won't be, but I'm tired of pussyfooting around. You know I don't advocate killing needlessly, but if Vald won't cooperate, he'll meet the gods. Damn Mercer for putting us in this position." Natasja's expression fell, her gaze dropping to the floor. "Are you all right with that, lass?"

"Oh, yes. It's just…."

"What? You can tell me."

She tensed at the urgency of his words, a foreboding sensation chilling her to the marrow. "I have a bad feeling about this, Brynjolf. Maybe I should go to Mercer's home alone, or with someone else. Just not you. You're the acting guild master now, and you have to stay safe and direct everyone."

"Guild master? No, not I." He laughed, but not with his usual heartiness. "But after what Mercer did to you, I don't plan to let you out of my sight again."

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." She wanted to be irritated by his overprotectiveness, but someplace deep inside she was also touched by the gesture. "I've been doing it for years now, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

He gritted his teeth at her flippant attitude. "If you had gone head-to-head with Mercer without Karliah's assistance, he would have killed you. No question. I know you're skilled, but there is always someone more skilled just around the corner."

"And are you saying this as my superior or as my friend."

"I am saying this as your friend." He seized her chin and narrowed his eyes, then realized she was playing him a little bit. "And you know damn well that I am also saying this as your lover." His arrogance brought a glimmer of joy to her weary eyes, and a small smile to her chapped lips. "I intend to have a say in everything that concerns you from now on, unless you object, of course." He leaned in closer. "Do you object?"

"No. Why?" Her pulse was slightly racing now, the vibes coming from him clearly of an affectionate nature. "Do you sense that I do?"

"I'm not sure. I suspect you have a lot on your mind and even more you'd like to say. So go on, get it off your chest, lass. Tell me what's bothering you."

She let out a breath, not sure how she was going to say it. "So you read my journal, cover to cover I suppose."

"I did."

"And?"

"Why didn't you say how you truly felt about me, Natasja? Did it ever occur to you that I was the misguided one between the two of us?"

"And so what? Now you know and we have to deal with Mercer and it's not important, right?"

"You are such a pessimist, lass. Trust me, it is important, so important that we should take the time to address what we mean to each other properly and without rushing through it. I promise you, I want to clear the air as much as you do." He sighed heavily, shaking his head for some unknown reason. "Let's figure out where to hunt for Mercer first. It won't take us too long to search his house. Then afterward, we can pick up where we left off before you headed for Snow Veil."

"If that's what you want, Bryn." Natasja looked away. "I understand."

He stepped back, grinning at the flicker of disappointment on her face. "No, you don't understand. This is entirely your fault, you know."

"My fault? What did I do?"

"I can't afford to be soft right now, lass, and that's what you do to me. You weaken my defenses. You make me want to throw caution to the wind and say to Oblivion with Mercer, but I cannot do that to the Guild. I owe this to them, and to myself. I will not become like Mercer."

"You could never be like Mercer. Not in the slightest."

"You can't tell me you haven't thought of what it would be like to have the kind of power that skeleton key offers," he said in a low, deep voice that crept beneath her skin. "I know I have, except I also have an honorable streak… But Mercer had honor once, too."

"We're only human, Bryn. If we didn't want money and power, we wouldn't be standing here. And we will take of our own, no matter if the rest of Riften sees us as scum." She didn't intend to put an embarrassed twist on her words, but he heard it, knowing she hated the slurs thrown at the members of the Guild, the hushed whispers calling them vermin and garbage. It was far too personal for her liking.

"Aye, but I'd like to change that… down the road a piece. Maybe have the Guild help the people of Riften in some way, taking more from the rich schemers and politicians who steal the livelihood away from the ones who make an honest living," he said with an gleam in his eye. "Ah, but those are ideas of folly for another time."

"Maven won't like that plan, but I do." A subtle vibrancy lit up her face and shone in her eyes, a scarcely perceptible smile curving her lips. "We can turn Riften's reputation around, Bryn. I can think of a few things to do right off the top of my head!"

"Piqued your interest, did I?" he asked. "Let's keep it between us though. I'm not sure anyone in the Guild is ready to go legit just yet."

"Right, right." She reined in her glee at the thought of doing some good for once. "We'll figure out where Mercer is first, follow him and take him down."

"But not before Karliah tells us everything we need to know in order to fight him. She needs to get that key back, so between the three of us, we should be successful."

"I hope you're right. She told me calling Mercer 'deadly' is an understatement. I honestly got the impression no one could defeat him, Bryn."

Hiding all doubts, he smiled. "Chin up, lass. One step at a time." He gave her hand a gentle tug. "Come on. You and I have a job to do, and I think we'll be an unstoppable duo."

"I'm not so sure," she murmured.

He noted the flush on her pale skin. "Then it's a good thing I have enough confidence for both of us," he said before tipping her chin up to kiss her lips softly.

For a long moment she didn't respond, her lips unmoving beneath his. Where was his passionate warrior? He deepened the kiss, testing her, letting his mouth linger over hers. Cracking an eye open, he was grateful to find no one could see them where they were standing, so he continued with another searing kiss.

When his fingers tangled in her hair, she murmured his name and surrendered, sinking her soul into this one brief moment of sheer pleasure they were allowed. The anxiety was there on the periphery of their conscious minds, but the comfort they found in each other's arms that moment helped them to forget there was a world gone mad just outside the Ratway.

"Now that was inspiring," he told her with a suggestive glint in his eye.

Flicking his arm with her finger, she grumbled something he couldn't make out and turned on her heels.

"You are a wicked man, Brynjolf."

"None more wicked, lass."

Neither saw the other's smile or heard the quiet, contented sighs. There was no need for more words, no need for anything but to feel the bond they found in each other months ago still unbroken, still a source of strength as they headed into the unknown yet again.

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