Five Threads

by El Stormo

Five people begin their own stories, finding their way in the world. But lives rarely leave each other untouched, and paths that run as high as they can, will sooner or later cross. When they do, some walk together, and others will do all they can to push the other off the path and into the depths. Reviews are much appreciated, members and guests, but please keep 'em spoiler-free.

43. Falnas: Two Wrongs

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FALNAS

Two Wrongs

The Ratway

"Here's another nice mess you've gotten us into," Brynjolf said to Falnas with a grin when they'd all gathered around the table for the second meeting, only a few hours after the assisted escape of the little murderer. Nine, that job sure had turned into a massive bungling spree. Brynjolf seemed to be enjoying it though. Falnas suppose at least that made for one of them.

"So wait, walk me through this again," Vex said, significantly less amused than Brynjolf. "You enact some harebrained scheme to get this assassin tart captured, and then some random stranger shows up, starts torturing her, and then you two decide to just… help her escape?"

"One of us, technically," Delvin quipped. "But yeah, lass. Wasn't right what was happ'nin'."

"You captured her," Vex repeated, taking care to sound as baffled as possible, "and then you help her escape. How is that logical?"

"We're not all as hard-hearted as you are, Vex," Falnas said with a sigh. "I'm sure you think you're a real tough chick, but you wouldn't have been able to keep watching either. We wanted to question her, not dismember her."

"Sides, think o' the consequences, yeah?" Delvin added. "We let this happen, Astrid gets us all murdered, one at a time."

"Yeah, this is definitely a better outcome," Vex snapped. "Now we'll just watch the Guild slowly disintegrate as septims dry up. Nice job, Delvin!"

"I don't see you doin' anythin' about it," Delvin shouted back, losing his temper. "You spend a few hours outside, come back with a miserable hundred septims and a bloody worthless vase, and you think you're 'elpin'? With these bloody crumbs? Do you think – "

"Hey why don't you shove it up your ass, Delvin! I risked – "

"Delvin," Tonilia said calmly. "Vex. This is getting us nowhere."

It was significant how Tonilia only had to say a word or two, and command everyone's silence. She rarely spoke, but when she did, people listened. "We need to deal with this situation, and with haste. Because Vex is right, the Guild will bleed to death if we don't remedy this problem."

"It would have been remedied if they hadn't let that assassin go," Vex sulked, her arms crossed.

Sapphire snorted and said, "Don't be ridiculous, Delvin's right. The Brotherhood would have murdered us all."

"Who was that lunatic anyway?" Brynjolf asked Falnas.

"Long story." They'd listened to the guy's explanation after he'd given up on trying to swim after the assassin, and Falnas had come to understand him a bit better in the end. Not that he condoned what had happened, but he'd understood. What this guy had been through would make it easy for anyone to cross a few lines. "But he's gone now. Won't be back."

"Whatever the case," Karliah finally spoke, "Tonilia is right. We need to come up with something, and quickly."

"We could just cut Maven open?" Sapphire said. As protests were raised, she held up her hands defensively and said, "I know we're not killers, but desperate times, desperate measures, right? I mean, she's suckered us enough, hasn't she?"

"Damn straight," Vex agreed. "It'd be what she's got coming. And I mean, it's not like she's innocent. We know she had our prancing vigilante killed. A few brewers too."

"Yes," Brynjolf said. "We know. But we have no evidence."

"So?" Vex shrugged. "Only evidence we need is our own certainty."

"Vex, Sapphire," Karliah explained. "Nobody says Maven won't deserve what you want to do to her, and no one says it wouldn't be good riddance to bad rubbish. But is it good for the Guild? No."

Vex' eyes flashed. "What do you know about – "

"Vex," Tonilia said again. "It wouldn't be good for the Guild because murdering a prominent citizen, no matter how disagreeable, would make the guard take even more severe action against us."

Brynjolf nodded. "Think this is bad? We off Maven, it gets ten times worse."

"And we can't report her to the guard either," Falnas said. "If they'd even listen to us, we'd need evidence."

"Evidence that you could have gotten," Sapphire said with a grin.

"Shut it, you," Falnas grinned back, knowing full well she was teasing. He was glad she'd thawed a bit, and trusted him again, despite appearances being completely against him at one point. She'd made the right choice, thankfully. "But yeah, state of affairs is that we don't have the evidence, nothing we can do to change that. Which means we need another plan."

"We could frame her for something?" Brynjolf suggested.

"Mm, yes, good idea," Karliah agreed. "Won't be easy with the guard breathing down our necks, but certainly an idea to keep in mind. Any suggestions?"

"Mmmno, not really," Sapphire mused. "But she'll definitely be on guard. She probably knows Mercer's gone, and that we'll be scheming against her."

Brynjolf shrugged. "Let her know. It's not like there's anything she can do about it."

"Yet," Delvin pointed out. "You can bet she's plannin' somethin' right now."

"Things are about to get even less comfortable for us, as well," Tonilia said. "My sources tell me that there's an even bigger threat than the guard approaching."

Everyone fell silent, all eyes on Tonilia. If she was worried, it meant bad news.

She shifted in her chair, and leaning on her elbows, she imparted, "Seems Mjoll had a friend in a high place. Remember last year, when she was gone from the village several times, for a few days or weeks?"

"M-hm," Vex said. "Was an easier time for us."

"Yes, well, apparently she spent that time looking for relics, like that sword she carried. But she wasn't alone."

Karliah sighed wearily. "Tonilia, please, just tell us straight, I'm too tired for exposition."

"Very well." She took a breath. "It turns out Mjoll has been shield-sister a few times. For none other than a certain sword-slinger called Arska Gvalhir."

Now where had Falnas heard that name before?

"Also known as the Dragonborn."

Silence fell.

"Well," Vex said finally, picking at her fingernails with her knife. "We're dead."

Brynjolf sighed. "We might as well hang it up."

"We need to take action," Karliah said calmly. "Relocate, temporarily disband, whatever, but we can't keep operating in the city. If she gets here, she'll murder us all without a second thought. And not a single person in the guard will dare stand in her way."

"And make a livin' as dung shovelers or latrine cleaners?" Delvin scoffed. "That's old bollocks, Karliah. We've got to deal with this or it's never goin' away."

"Let me talk to her," Falnas said, once again making the meeting fall silent.

After a moment of perplexity, Vex snorted and said, "Sure. Maybe you'll take long enough to die so we can get away."

"Uh, Falnas," Sapphire asked, putting his hand on his. "You do know that… well, what kind of person she is, right? She's ruthless, she'll kill you and not think twice about it. Especially if she believes you're responsible for killing her friend."

Falnas shook his head. "Look, I know the reputation she's got but…" he cleared his throat. "… I know her personally."

All jaws dropped.

"Yes I, uh… met her a while ago. Caught her doing something, well, not exactly on the up-and-up. Thought she'd kill me for sure, because, you know, her reputation, but she was actually pretty decent about it."

"Yes, but Falnas – " Karliah began.

"Trust me, alright? She's not as nasty as people make her out to be. I mean, she won't be starting any parties or whatever, but she's a reasonable sort."

With a lewd grin, Sapphire purred, "So… what kind of nastiness did you catch her doing?"

"I can't tell," Falnas grinned back. "Sorry, I promised. Only reason I'm still alive too. Anyway, unless you guys want to pack your bags and migrate, this is the only shot we have, I think. Let me talk to her."

Falnas wasn't even half as sure of himself as he sounded, but he had to do this.

"Yes, but even if you don't get chopped up on the spot, what will you say?" Brynjolf asked. "Even if she listens, there's a big difference between listening and believing. She'll just think you're trying to pin it on Maven out of desperation."

"M-hm," Tonilia agreed. "And I dread to imagine what she'll do if she feels like you're trying to deceive her."

Not you, Tonilia. I need you on my side in this. People listen to you.

"I'm aware of that," he admitted. "But that's why I'll ask her to give us a few days. To find evidence."

"We're not bringin' another assassin 'ere," Delvin chuckled.

"No, no," Falnas said, grinning along. "But a few days is a few days. I was thinking…"

"No. No, Falnas, no." Brynjolf shook his head. "Just… no."

"It's the only chance we've got."

"Falnas, come on," Vex argued. "Breaking into Maven's house? At least the Dragonborn would kill us quick."

"Maven will pull out all your toenails, mate," Delvin said. "An' that'd just be the beginnin'. Least this Arska tart'll kill you quick."

Vex chuckled. "Heh. Arse-ka."

"Be sure to call her that to her face," Brynjolf chortled.

"If it's the last thing I get to say? You bet."

"I'll show 'er my arse before she chops my head off," Delvin laughed, his joke combined with the tension of the meeting sending most of the attendees into a bout of mirth. Even Tonilia permitted herself a smile.

"Alright people," Karliah called the meeting to order again. "We need to make a decision. First things first. Falnas, do you think you can talk to her at least? Give us a few days?"

Falnas nodded. "I think this is the only thing we can do. Maybe if we can intercept her before she's in the city…"

Tonilia shook her head, the highlights from the candles shifting on her dark ebony skin. "She's with the Jarl as we speak."

"Which means she'll already know who the prime suspects are," Karliah grunted. "You'll have to be very persuasive, Falnas. I don't like this. She's liable to kill you right there, and… well, I don't want you to get killed."

Another silence fell, but this one of another kind. What she'd said just now was remarkably personal, and the way in which she said it… The others had picked up on it too, all eyes now on Karliah.

"Look," she said, "I don't want anyone to die. Just… let's stick to that."

Warmth flared up in Falnas' chest. That had been more than just caring for a friend. "Karliah, I promise, I know this woman. She's not the kill-first-ask-questions-later person the stories make her out to be."

At least, he hoped so.

"Are you sure about this, Falnas?" Tonilia asked gently.

He nodded. He had to be. "I'll talk to her. She won't kill me on the spot, that I know for sure. Whether or not I'll be able to persuade her is another matter, but I don't think she'll kill me for trying. And since Siari gave us the name of the contractor between all the crying and snottering, we know for sure that it's Maven. So we've got nothing to lose by breaking into her home."

"Except our lives," Vex pointed out, "our toenails, our fingernails, our noses and our external genitalia."

"What Falnas means," Tonilia said calmly, "is that at least we'll know we're breaking into the right house, and won't turn Maven against us when he's got nothing to do with it."

"Right," Brynjolf agreed. "We know our enemy. But I still think breaking into Maven's house is a much scarier prospect than being hunted down by that Dragonborn woman."

"We're Thieves," Delvin said, slapping the table. "If we can't break into the house of some old dried-up bint, then what the bloody Oblivion are we doin' 'ere? 'Ave you become old women? Falnas is throwin' us a lifeline 'ere. We better bloody take it."

With a sigh, Vex said, "Fine by me. But on one condition. When we're all on the rack in Maven's basement, I get to say I told you so, alright?"

Falnas grinned. "Deal."

Brynjolf spread his hands. "It's a terrible plan, but since it's the only plan we've got…"

"If Falnas thinks it can be done," Tonilia said, nodding, "then we should waste no time. The Dragonborn will start looking for us any moment now."

"And you can bet she'll be told where we are very quickly," Karliah grunted.

"Exactly," Tonilia said. "We have to intercept her before she comes here. You're sure of this, Falnas?"

Falnas nodded. "As sure as one can be when dealing with so many unpredictable factors."

Pulling her mouth to the side, Vex muttered, "That's encouraging."

"We oughta stop talkin' an' let Falnas flap gums with the head-chopper. Go on, best o' luck mate."

Delvin was right, they hadn't a moment to lose. Falnas rose, buckled his knife belt and told his friends, "Well, I'll return to tell you how it went."

Karliah rose as well. "I'll walk you to the exit."

Oh my, this just might be the one good thing that would come from all of this. Falnas felt his heart speed up, but he kept his cool, because that was what he did. Keep cool under pressure.

They walked to the ladder, and just before she let him climb up, and to the cold air of Riften's graveyard, she said, "Be careful, alright? Promise me you'll be back."

He nodded. "I promise. Takes more than an angry woman with an ancient daedra-forged sword and near-godly powers to kill me."

She chuckled briefly. "I mean it, though. You were the only one who stood up for me. Who trusted me when Mercer had all the others fooled. I… haven't forgotten, nor will I ever."

His heart raced as he looked into Karliah's strange purple eyes, as beautiful as the rest of her. "I just made the right choice, Karliah. Nothing more."

She leaned over to him, ignoring all the eyes on them, and kissed him on the cheek. She smelled of sweat and leather, but Falnas didn't mind, it was her smell and it made him feel wonderful, as did the brief touch of her lips on his skin. "Now go, everyone's watching."

With a nod, he went up the ladder, and just before the grating of stone on stone drowned out the voices, he had to chuckle when he heard Karliah nervously snap at the others, "Get back to work, you nosy fools, this isn't a show."

As the stone ground away, the elation and butterflies in his stomach made way for the cold realization of the reality of it all. He hoped with some enthusiasm that this Dragonborn didn't just chop him in two right there and then. He supposed it was easy to be a casual killer when there were never any consequences from the law or its enforcers.

He made for the Jarl's longhouse, his heart again speeding up, but for a much less joyous reason than before. He trampled flowers and kicked dirt onto headstones as he walked to the longhouse as fast as he could, but he had no time to be bothered with this now. And in the darkness of the late twilight, he also didn't notice the young Nord with prematurely grey hair standing at one of the headstones, his hands in his sides, studying the name chiselled into it, his face full of hateful determination.

He hopped over the cemetery wall, went past the smithy, and to the stairs leading to the Jarl's dwelling. And sure enough, as he got there, the door opened and out came the person who would either spare them or chop them all up into little bits. She was dressed in impressive armour, made from bones that had doubtless at one point belonged to a dragon. He remembered the stories going around of her walking casually to the smith, dumping the harder-than-steel bones on his floor and telling him to build her a suit of armour, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He closed his eyes, took a breath and walked up to her, meeting her just at the foot of the stairs.

"Lady Arska? I was wondering if you – "

His sentence wasn't even finished or there was already a sword at his throat, drawn almost faster than he could see. He held up his hands and chuckled uncomfortably. "Uh… I just… want to talk?"

Oh Nine, this was off to a bad start.

"Talk, do you?" the woman asked with her eyes narrowed. He could see a faint sheen in them, as if they reflected what little light there was slightly more red, but that was probably only because he knew about her, what she was. "I don't think I want to listen to any of you Guild rats talk. Squeal, maybe. But talk… no."

"I just – "

"And don't call me Lady. I work for a living."

"Uh, s… sure," he stammered, the tip of the wicked, curved blade still on his throat. "Look, if you'd just hear me out – "

"Why should I? Did my friend get a chance to speak? My friend who died naked and all alone, stabbed in the back by an honourless coward, and got thrown into the canal like a Nine-damned cadaver?"

"Can you please take the weapon off my throat?" he insisted. "You're the Dragonborn. If you don't like what I have to say, you can still disembowel me faster than I can say 'naked dancing Greybeards'. So, please… can we talk, because things aren't what they seem. Not what they've told you."

She kept looking at him, her rough but still fairly attractive face pulled into a suspicious frown. At length the blade lowered. "You saying the Jarl's a liar?"

"No," he said, letting out the pent-up air. "But he's been fed false information."

"About the Thieves' Guild innocence, I suppose?" she scoffed. "Which you can doubtless prove with tangible and unmistakable hard evidence?"

"Yes. That's right." Well, sort of.

Her eyes narrowed again. "Don't I know your dodgy face from somewhere?"

Phew, she remembered. At least partly. "We met uh, here in Riften. The flophouse. I saw you doing…" he threw a furtive look around, "… something very naughty to one of the guests."

He saw it on her face. She remembered alright. Remembered what he'd seen. What he knew. And what he hadn't told anybody like she'd commanded him to. He hoped that would count for something.

"Oh, right. You. Well, I suppose it does count for something that you kept your mouth shut. But not much."

"Can we just, I don't know, have a drink somewhere, like civilized people?"

She gave a lopsided grin. "I don't drink… alcohol."

"I do," Falnas said to break the tension. "And I don't think any tavern keeper will make a scene of you not ordering anything."

She harrumphed. "I'll listen to what you have to say, but if I don't like what I hear, I'm running you through right there and then, that clear? So if you're thinking of feeding me lies, you've got one last chance to walk away."

He nodded. "The fact that I'm staying right here should tell you enough."

"We'll see. What was your name again?"

"Falnas."

They proceeded to the Bee and Barb, the Dragonborn staying a bit behind Falnas, doubtless to keep an eye on him, and went to sit at a table. All voices fell silent when Falnas came in, or rather, when people saw the Dovahkiin. Hm, it was nice to be seen with a celebrity, even in these circumstances.

"Over there," the Dragonborn said quietly, but it was clearly not something that was to be argued with.

They sat down in the corner Arska had told him to go. It was a little cubby-hole that only had their table and a few chairs, and both he and his companion had their backs to a wall each. "I'll say again, you try to horseshit me and I'll nail you to the wall, clear?"

Falnas sighed. "Look, there's really no need for all these threats. I know you're crazy powerful, I know you can kill me just by thinking about it hard enough. Just… can we do this with some dignity, please."

Another grunt. "Fine. But say what you're going to say."

Keerava came to stand at their table, wringing her hands nervously. If Argonians could sweat, this one would have drowned them all in minutes. "What… what can I…"

"Mazte, please, Keerava," Falnas said. "And my friend whatever she's having." He gave her a small purse of septims. "Just return the rest to me."

"Y-yes of course… My lady?"

"Don't call her Lady," Falnas said with a grin, even though he was nervous as Oblivion. "She works for a living."

He got a disapproving frown from the blonde woman, but he thought, hoped, he'd amused her somewhat. He had to play out his charms to the fullest, make her not want to kill him.

"Just mead," Arska Gvalhir grunted at her. "Put it down, then leave us."

"O-of course," the Argonian stammered, shuffling away backwards, bowing all the while.

She glared at Falnas in silence until the drinks arrived, along with the remainder of the gold. Falnas was pretty certain there wouldn't be a single coin too much taken out.

With a wordless gesture, the Dragonborn ordered Falnas to start talking.

He cleared his right. "Right. Well, erm, for starters, the Thieves' Guild had nothing to do with the death of Mjoll the Lioness."

"I already knew you were going to say that," she said, leaning forward on her elbows, her face irritated. "And it's what they all say. How 'bout you tell me why I should believe you, instead."

"Because we're thieves, Arska."

Her eyes flashed.

"Errr… we're thieves, Dovahkiin?"

She snorted, amused. "I'm just pulling your leg. Just call me whatever." Her face went serious again instantly. "As long as your arguments are good."

"Right." She was a strange one. "Like I said, we're thieves, not murderers. It's true that Mjoll… well, didn't like us much, but she always saw us as the lesser of two evils." Stretching the truth a bit there. He'd have to be careful but it had to be done. "She knew Maven was up to much dirtier things than the thieving jobs we did for her."

"Not convinced."

"Look how things are, Arska." He felt uncomfortable calling her by her first name, but he had to make sure he forged a bond with her. That, and he didn't know what else to call her. "The guard's got us all but locked down. We're not idiots, if we'd planned this, we would have known this would happen. Why would we saw the legs from under our own chair?"

"Makes sense," she admitted. "But you thieves aren't the brightest bunch. So no, you'll have to do better."

This was to be expected. What else could he tell her? He ransacked his brain for arguments, hoping she wouldn't just run him through for thinking too long. "We know who contracted the hit, and we know who executed it. It was Maven Blackbriar, and she hired the Brotherhood to get it done. We had no knowledge of it."

"That's nice, but you could say whatever you want. Without proof, I'm holding you all responsible."

If only they had the assassin to show her. It'd probably end very messy for the little thing though. And assassin or no, Falnas' conscience didn't permit it. "Then give me a chance to prove it." He put his palms together. "Just a day or two. That's all I ask. If I haven't been able to show you anything before then, you can chop off all our heads and mount them on your wall."

"I give you a few days, you all scarper and set up operations somewhere else."

He sighed, lowering his head. She was right to be worried for that. "I promise, Arska. I swear on my soul. I know we'll never be able to run far enough. I've kept your secret, now I'm asking you to trust me."

She looked at him intently, leaning back in her chair. "Listen," she said. "I wish I could believe you, but – "

"Arska, we're thieves, not murderers. Surely Mjoll must have told you about Maven? How she was worried that one day she'd have her murdered? And honestly, who would Maven contract? Us, or the Brotherhood? With her means? She won't hire a bunch of thieves, she'll go to the professional murderers."

The woman was silent, looking away, thinking it over.

"Trust us when we say Maven's kicked us all in the balls by doing this. We're on the same side here. You and us, we'll both be happy when she's gone. You'll get justice, and we'll be able to breathe again."

Her eyes fixed on him again. "That sounded awfully like manipulation, Falnas. I don't like it when people try to manipulate me."

It was, he had to admit it. And she was sharper than he thought. "Alright, I just meant… we would've had nothing to gain and everything to lose by getting Mjoll murdered. And if you just let me get proof, I'll – "

"Fine. You've got one day," she snapped. "Get it? One day."

It was better than nothing. "Alright, thank you Arska, I promise you, we're worth the trust."

"You better be. And just so I'm certain," she said, cocking her head, "You're staying with me during that day. Anywhere you go, I go. You go to your rat hole, I'm there with you. You read a book, I read over your shoulder. You go to eat bangers and mash, I'm at your table. You go to a brothel, I see if you're treating her right. You go to take a shit, I'm right outside the door. Clear?"

Really? Really? How was he supposed to gather evidence with this walking fortress next to him? And no one else dared burgle Maven's house. Gah, what a miserable situation. But there was nothing else for it. "Fine, but I'd like to ask for one exception."

She snorted. "You can ask, but the answer's going to be no."

"Hear me out. To get the evidence I need, I'm going to have to do some… well, burgling."

Her eyebrows went up. "Yes, and?"

"Well… I don't mean to be rude, but I don't think sneaking around is your – "

She laughed, the first time he heard her do so. He supposed it was a good sign. "A lot about me you don't know, elfling." She leaned in. "I'm a Vampire. How do you think I get my sustenance? Trust me, if you're going to go prowling, I won't get in the way." She added a condescending, "quite the opposite."

"Is that a challenge?" he tried to lighten the mood.

"No. Just a fact. So no, you don't get off the hook." She looked around, then picked up her cup and made the mead splash onto the floor beneath her seat. "First thing we do, is see your contact, tell her you'll be spending some quality time with the most beautiful and deadly woman since the Nerevarine got drunk, put on a dress and stuck two oranges in his brassiere. You're going to tell your contact you'll die a gruesome and messy death if they try to double-cross me. Then we're going to get your burgling done."

There was nothing else for it.

"You uh… brought her here?" Karliah asked Falnas, waiting for him at the mausoleum. His new baby-minder stood a few metres back, her arms crossed. "You sure that's wise?"

"Only way she'd let me have a day to find evidence," Falnas said. "She's actually coming with me to burgle Maven's house."

"Good," Karliah said with a wicked grin. "With any luck, you'll get caught and Problem Dragonborn will deal with Problem Maven right then and there."

"That's not the idea. We won't be a party to murder. We find the evidence, and then Arska does what she thinks is best. If she wants to kill Maven, fine, but without us."

Karliah raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "It's 'Arska' already, is it?" Her grin made it clear she wasn't being serious. Not entirely.

Falnas shrugged. "I have to call her something."

Karliah looked past him, to the woman standing amid the flowers, gently lit by the pale moonlight. "I suppose she's not bad-looking. I'd imagined her to be this manly and butch almost-man, but as far as Nord women go…"

"Told you she wasn't as terrible as the stories made her out to be."

"Well, I'm glad you're safe," she said, briefly touching his arm. "Now stay that way. Don't worry, we're not going anywhere. We're all in this together. Find that evidence so we can get this woman and the guard off our backs."

He nodded. "Don't worry about me."

She sighed, looking across the graveyard, tranquil and clam in the frigid night. "Rebuilding the Guild ought to be a lot more fun than Mercer and Maven had ruining it."

"Tell me about it." He looked back at Arska, glaring at him impatiently and tapping her foot. Strangely, he began to like the grumpy woman. "I have to go. I'll be back, promise."

She nodded, this time not giving him a kiss, probably due to a certain Dragonborn ruining their privacy. "If it's you or her, kill her, alright?"

"It'll be fine. I'll see you soon."

He tore his eyes away from her, and rejoined Arska Gvalhir, looking back one last time to see her standing there, hugging herself against the cold and looking wonderful, giving him a weak smile. He had half a mind to give the Nord woman the boot and just stay with her. But he had to do this.

"Bout time," Arska remarked as they started walking. "You're aware she's got feelings for you?" She asked it like she was asking about the weather.

"Bhuh, what, huh?" Falnas blurted out. He hoped she did, but as if this buckethead could tell from just watching them from afar for a few minutes.

"It's obvious," she said with a shrug. "You may not think of me as one, but I am a woman, and what I saw in her eyes was more than just comradeship."

"I… don't think of you as anything else than a woman," he said, carefully, so it sounded like the compliment it was, "but I'm not sure if what you say after observing us for a brief moment is very reliable."

"Forget reliable," the Dragonborn said, surprisingly sociable. "More important question is, are you glad to hear it or not?"

Falnas chuckled, "What, did you turn into a love therapist when I wasn't looking?"

"I'll have you know that despite my obviously considerable power and my aloof demeanour, I'm also someone who finds joy in seeing people love and care about each other."

What a strange woman this was. But fine, he'd play her game. "Yes, Arska, I'd like nothing more than to know she cares about me."

She smiled, and just said mysteriously, "Good."

"Thank you for this, Arska," Falnas said, eager to shift the topic. "Giving me the chance to prove our innocence."

"Mm. Don't thank me for that, I'd be a horrible person if I didn't give you the chance. Don't betray my trust and prove you stopped me from killing innocent people, and we'll owe each other gratitude."

That was a good way to look at it. And all that for a Vampire. "I won't let you down. Now, next stop is Maven's house."

"Right. Let's stop by Mjoll's house. I need to change first."

"Yes, please. I'm sure you're good at stealth, but wearing that? No."

"No."

Mjoll's house was just around the corner, and when they reached it, Arska stopped and looked up at the front wall, with its green shutters and creeper plants running up one side.

After a moment of silence, Falnas risked saying, "I forgot to tell you, I'm sorry about your loss. Really."

"If you weren't involved in killing her, you have nothing to apologize for."

"Would you like me to… wait outside?"

She grinned. "Nice try, but no. And before you get your hopes up, you won't get to see me change either."

"I wasn't hoping I'd get to see you – "

"Good. But just so you know," she said playfully, "I have nothing to be shy about. My body is as amazing as my sword skills."

"I'll… take your word for it."

They went inside, to the guest room. So this was where Mjoll had lived. A tiny house, with almost no furniture, a few weapons hung on the walls. When Arska led him upstairs and to the guest room, he threw a glance through one of the open doors and saw an empty bath tub, an open window, and blood everywhere. Someone had tried to clean it up, but most had been sucked up by the stone and could never be cleaned off, only painted over.

"Poor Mjoll," Arska said hoarsely when she noticed him looking at the bathroom. "She just wanted to make this city a safer place. I hope you realize that."

"I do, Arska," Falnas said solemnly. "What happened to her was terrible. I mean, us and Mjoll, we had this cat and mouse game going, but it was always harmless, you know? All of us respected her, and I'm… actually glad, in a way, that you're here, threatening to kill us."

She turned to him, giving him a questioning look. "How's that?"

"Well this way," he explained, "I'll get the chance to help you bring the culprit to justice. It's much better than doing nothing, like we were before." He actually meant it for the most part, now that he stood in the empty house, looking at a bathroom that would never again see Mjoll throw her clothes on a stool or brush her hair.

She smiled sadly. "Still some honour among thieves, huh?"

"Indeed."

"Alright, stay."

Ah, she had a screen to change behind. Yes, that would work. Her head stuck out above the edge of the screen, but the rest of her was invisible. "So," she said as buckles clinked and chain mail jingled, her hair popping up and down behind the screen. "What makes you so sure it was Maven?"

"Who else could it have been?" Falnas said, spotting a stool but not sitting down on it. These were Mjoll's things.

Arska's head appeared above the screen again, her eyes on him. "What, that's all you got? That's the only indication you have?"

"No," he said, wringing his hands. Oh, this would be embarrassing to admit. "We actually caught one of the assassins. She confessed it was Maven. But she uh… escaped."

"What?" she asked, incredulous but not sounding angry. "How'd you let that happen?"

"It's a long story. We… got interrupted during the questioning. Some guy with a massive chip on his shoulder and a score to settle with our prisoner. She… escaped in the confusion." The entire story would take ages to tell, but he did add, "We… let her escape. The guy was about to torture her to death, and no way I'm allowing that, no matter who it is." He knew this would either anger her for letting the assassin go, or make her trust in him as not-a-killer more solid. He hoped for the second.

"Then you're a better man than I am," she merely said. Good enough. "Well, than I am a woman."

More shuffling of fabric and chinking of metal as the underlayer of her armour, the cloth and leather padding, was thrown over a stool next to the screen. "Oh by the way, if you're thinking of running, you better believe I'm running after you as is, feeling the wind go through my pubes. It'll be the last thing you see anyway."

"I'm not running," Falnas said again. He wished the woman would lay off the threats, despite coming to like her more as they spent time together.

The sounds that came from behind the screen as she put on the other set of apparel, thankfully, were free of clinks and clangs, with only the rustling of cloth and the occasional muffled creak of leather audible.

A moment later, she emerged from behind the screen, transformed. Gone was the massive, noisy armour, and the broad girdle carrying weapons and potions and medical items, replaced by a tight-fitting set of dark leather gear with muffled buckles and a subtle enchantment on it to make it better match the colour of the background, as if she was part of the wall behind her.

Neat. Falnas sure wanted some enchanted armour of his own.

"That… would work better for burgling, yes," Falnas had to admit, feeling like a vagrant with his worthless common leathers.

"Told you you didn't have to worry," she said with a bounce. She certainly looked a lot more feminine like this, without the bulky armour and with her golden hair neatly brushed and tied in a ponytail behind her head. "Let's get this done."

"Apart from the staff and other nuisances, we need to be especially wary about two things," Falnas explained as they walked across town to Maven's house, near the gates. "One's her dogs. She's got two of them. They smell us or see us, they'll bark the whole house apart. Not good."

"Mm. Second?"

"Maul," Falnas said, grimacing. "Maven's bodyguard. He's a mean son of a whore, a massive bastard who'll rip the arms off a troll with nothing more than a grunt, and worst of all, he's a thief like us. He knows the tricks of the trade, and he's sharp as a knife."

"I'll worry about the dogs," Arska said. "Don't worry, I've got just the way to deal with them. This Maul character, well, we'll just have to try and avoid him. I could just shout him all the way to Markarth, but since we're staying undetected, well…"

"Yes, we are. If we're spotted, or things go loud, Maven will be able to deny everything and say we planted the evidence."

Arska shrugged. "Only one who needs to know the evidence is real is me. Nobody will stop me. Not the guards, not anyone."

"Well, she'll also have the chance to destroy any evidence."

"What makes you think she hasn't done that already?"

Falnas chuckled. "Old Maven is a stickler for routine and bookkeeping. She'll have it booked somewhere, but it'll be marked under something phony. So if we see a suspicious entry in her ledgers on the week Mjoll was murdered, well…"

"It'd be a strong suspicion," Arska said as they walked. "But not proof."

He knew all too well. "I know, Arska. But we have to hope we'll find more than that."

"No, you do."

"Come on, for Oblivion's sake, are you – "

She grinned at him. "I'm playing with you. I'm pretty sure you're telling the truth. Just… pretty sure isn't enough. I need to be certain."

That was certainly good to hear. "Appreciate it, Arska. You're… nowhere near as bad as your reputation makes you out to be."

The Dragonborn slapped a hand on her chest, making an exaggerated wounded face. "I have a bad reputation? People say bad things about me? Oh Aedra, my frail heart!"

Yeah, he was definitely beginning to appreciate the grumpy termagant. He supposed it was always that way, the more you got to know people, the more you understood and liked them. Or hated them completely.

And so they reached the gates, looking up, from a distance of course, at Maven's house. "Well, here we are." Falnas said. "We should look for a better way in than the front door."

The door in question would be the worst possible entry point, as it always was. The house was large and broad, the second floor forming an overhand over the ground floor, creepers growing up against the wood. The shutters were all open, but none of the windows at the front opened, so that wasn't an option either. The roof, on the other hand…

"What about the back?" Arska asked.

"No, the canal's there, and there's a balcony that offers a good view over the area. It'll be impossible to approach undetected. No, I've got a better idea."

Maven's house was flanked by another residence on both sides, and it'd be much easier to reach the building from up high.

"Come on. We're going via the roofs." He grunted to himself, "Should have brought my climbing rope."

Climbing another house would be safer. After briefly glancing around for any possible guards, Falnas jogged to the house next to Maven's, and checked the side wall for climbability. "Got a few handholds," he said to Arska. "Should be doable."

"Mm. And once we're on the roof?"

"Then it's just a matter of removing a few shingles and we're in."

She nodded, her eyes reflecting the moonlight in pale red. He liked the person, but not the eyes. There was a bad hunger to them.

"You're not, uh… gonna drink my blood for extra strength at some point, are you?"

She snorted. "Tch, why would I drink the blood of some rugged Dunmer when there's nubile, juicy servant wenches in there?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Nubile, juicy serviant wenches?"

A shrug. "Young, sheltered blood tastes better." She grimaced. "Had to drain a Forsworn once. I swear to Talos, he tasted like thistles. You know, plant fibres. Bah."

"I'll… take your word for it." What a strange thing to share. Still, he was glad she was sharing odd stories and not showing him his own bowels. "Let's go."

The climb was challenging, but there were enough handholds, protrusions and balconies for them to be able to make it to the rooftop of the adjacent house without too many muffled curses and stifled grunts. Arska was a more than decent climber, and she made sure the tempo stayed high. Now they were on the ridge of the roof, carefully skulking to the other side of the house, and from there, onto Maven's slightly higher roof.

"Alright, now to get a few shingles loose," Falnas whispered while Arska looked down to make sure there weren't any guards walking by.

"Long drop," the Dragonborn remarked flatly. Indeed, Falnas doubted that even the Dragonborn could reliably survive a plummet three stories down onto the street flagstones. Of course, neither of them was planning on taking the plunge, but still.

Falnas stuck his dagger between the shingles and wrenched a few loose, making minimal noise as he did so, until he'd made a decent-sized hole. "This good?" he whispered, "or want me to do a few more?"

"You calling me fat?" she said with a grin.

"Forget I said anything."

Carefully, they lowered themselves down into the dark attic. It was disconcerting to see Arska's eyes glow slightly in the dark. Creeped him out, but on the other hand, she probably had much better vision in this darkness than he did. All he could see was vague, dark smears of what looked like walls and a door. There were cobwebs everywhere, he felt them on his skin. Good, that meant this door probably never saw any use. He saw the vague, dark form of Arska creeping forward, the wooden boards creaking ever so slightly, and she opened the door, peeking out.

"It's good so far," she whispered, "come on."

He followed her, and they found themselves in the second-floor hallway, looking down at the stairs, rooms on both sides.

"This is the sleeping quarters probably," Falnas whispered. "Won't be much here except sleeping people, and we best not linger." He fancied hearing light snoring from behind one of the doors, and told himself it had to be Maven sawing logs. Had to be.

"Might score a meal though," Arska said, and in the light of the oil lamps on the wall, he could see the tip of her tongue brush across her lips. She probably wasn't even aware that she was doing it. Falnas wondered if other Vampires were the same. "I'm getting pretty hungry from listening to all your innocence-claiming."

Falnas decided not to say anything, instead creeping down the stairs, away from the sleeping people who could probably be awakened with just one wrong move and who'd make enough noise to be heard all the way to the Flagon.

They sneaked down and reached the landing between both floors. A few more steps down, their boots only making quiet taps on the hardwood, and they were on the first floor hallway.

"Shh," Arska whispered quietly. "Stay here." He made a questioning face, and looking back, she explained, "Dog."

Right, she had the way to deal with them, she'd said. As she crept forward, a dog indeed emerged from one of the doorways, wary with its ears flat against its skull. It was adorned with a spiky collar, because of course it was. Falnas' heart beat hard in his chest as he watched the Dragonborn hold out one hand and gently whisper something that sounded like, "Kaan… Drem… Ov."

And to Falnas' amazement, with a single quiet whine, the dog lay down, crossing its front paws and looking up at the Dragonborn cheerily.

Arska looked back at him and flicked her eyebrows, her irises lit up by a faint red glow.

Seemed like being able to use the dragon's shouts was usable for more than just throwing people around like rag dolls. He sneaked after her, coming to kneel behind her as she was scratching the dog behind the ear.

The hallway they were in had three doors on either side, a set of stairs leading down, and several oil lamps lighting it up. And of course, one pleasantly tranquil and placid dog. There was something else hanging on the wall too. He had to grin when he saw it, and tapped Arska on the shoulder to get her attention. Her face turned from the dog to him, those red-reflecting eyes first settling on him, then looking where he was pointing.

Against the wall, framed in a massive and incredibly tacky gilded frame, was the square-metre portrait of a regal-looking and ludicrously idealized Maven Black-Briar.

The face Arska made said, Nine, the bad taste of some people…

He'd been in this house before, and he was aware of the lay-out somewhat. The second floor was mostly sleeping area, and the first floor, the one they were on, had all the business-related rooms, with the ground floor reserved for living, dining, receiving and the like. So if they were going to find anything, it was going to be here. The only door that was open was the one the dog had come out of. That probably wasn't her office, but still, it'd be worth a look. He crept forward and made his way inside. The place was dark, but not too dark to see what he was doing. He ruffled through the papers on the desk, but these were all more domestic type of things, probably written up by one of the servants. Orders for milk, wheat, all of those trivial things. No, this wouldn't be it.

When Falnas emerged from the room again, his ears perked for any sound, he found himself looking at one of the servant girls in her nightgown, standing in the middle of the hallway. And behind her, Arska Gvalhir with one hand on the girl's mouth and nose and a dagger at her throat. His companion gave him a wearily annoyed look that said, look at all the annoyance I have to deal with all the time.

Great. The wench had walked in on them. Even though Arska had reacted quickly and appropriately, it was all ruined. She was quiet and under control, yes, but they'd been spotted, and there was no way she'd be quiet. So they could either abort the whole thing and hope that Maven didn't kill every last member of the Guild, or they could cut this girl's throat and drag her body outside and dump her in the canal – and even then it'd be risky. Unless… he recognized the girl, pretty in a waifish sort of way. She was the one who'd been pelted with the apple when he'd come to report to Maven, an eternity ago. Maybe, if she'd suffered enough abuse, just maybe…

He motioned for Arska to bring the girl into the office. The hand she was holding over the serving girl's mouth was wet with tears.

The Dragonborn unceremoniously, but quietly dragged her into the office and sat her down on the chair. "I'm going to take my hand off your mouth. You scream, I cut you open from bladder to throat. That clear?"

Weeping, the girl jerked her head up and down. There was no need for this kind of threats, but on the other hand, there was. Just as long as Arska didn't make good on her threats, it was fine by him. Sometimes you had to be cruel lest you had to be cruel.

"Listen to me," Falnas whispered, kneeling before her. "Do as we say and you will survive this. Alright?"

The girl nodded frantically again, wiping her tears from her cheeks.

"You know me, right? I'm from the Guild, I'm no killer. So believe me, I don't want to kill you any more than you want to die, but I will if I have to."

Or at least, Arska would. She stood behind their captive, her arms crossed.

"I know Maven hurts you. Treats you badly." She looked away, biting her lip. Even in the faint light, he could see the bruises on her wrist, and it looked like there was one on her throat as well, and it hadn't been made by Arska, unlike the little cut on her larynx, that had a little droplet of blood sliding down from it. "You must hate her, don't you?"

She closed her eyes, pulling her mouth into a narrow stripe.

"And you're not the only one. Maven is a bad person. She's hurt other people too. Killed some of them, even. You must know about Mjoll, right?"

Her head slowly went up and down.

"You know it was Maven?"

"I... I suspected… yes." She sniffed, making too much noise as she did so.

"We want to bring her to justice." Probably Arska's own brand of quick and bloody justice, but that wasn't his concern. "I promise you, if you help us, we'll find a place for you in the Guild. I know it's not the career you'd envisioned, but anything's better than working for this rotten woman, isn't it?"

"I… don't know."

Arska leaned in, whispering in her ear, "Would you rather stay here and wait until she's tired of you? You know what she does to those people, don't you?"

She sniffed again. "Fine. What do you want?"

He put his hand on hers. "You won't regret this. What's your name?"

"Mruki."

"No last name?"

She shook her head.

"Orphanage girl, huh? Figures." He looked up at Arska. "Count on Maven to purchase orphans to use and abuse as household slaves." Then, back to the serving girl, "You'll get a better life when this is done. You'll be an outlaw, but at least you'll be free."

She nodded slowly.

"So, what I want you to do is first, tell me if you have any idea where we could find any evidence implicating Maven of Mjoll's murder."

"I… I can do that. Maven keeps all her secret documents in a small chest hidden in the upholstery of the sofa in the brewery office." She hiccupped. "Door just across the hallway. Has to be in there." She looked miserable, her hands in her lap, forced to betray her mistress and being jerked back and forth between the desire to be free from this horrible old witch, and the misplaced loyalty she still carried. She'd be happier when this was done, Falnas told himself. She would be.

"Good. Alright. And second, we need to get out of here, so if you want to come with us, we need to leave through the front door. Which means we'll probably have to get past Maul."

She nodded again, whispering, "He's guarding the front door."

"You'll have to distract him."

She looked up at him with big, teary blue eyes. "How?"

Arska let out a stifled snort. "Girl. This Maul person is a man, right? All it takes is for a pretty thing like you to come down in her nightgown and say you're cold and need some company. He'll be as distracted as a magpie in a silverware manufacture."

The girl's eyes flashed up at Arska's. "I'm sure that won't work. He rapes me three times per week."

For the first time, Falnas saw the Dragonborn looking genuinely guilty and embarrassed. "Oh. I'm… sorry, I didn't know."

She shrugged. "I'm used to it. Orphanage girl." Her eyes went to Falnas. "Right?"

"It won't be this way any longer after tonight," Falnas assured her. "This is the best thing that's ever happened to you."

"We'll see. So how do I distract him?"

Falnas looked away, staring at the papers on the desk, thinking.

But before he could come up with an idea, Arska shrugged and said, "Tell him the truth."

Both pairs of eyes went to her.

"Just go downstairs, say you've heard suspicious noise in the attic but that you're afraid to go look."

"What kind of plan is that?" Falnas hissed. "He's going to come upstairs and we can sneak out, yes, but he'll see the hole in the roof and he'll know. The idea was to get the evidence without arousing suspicion."

With a smirk, Arska said, "He won't see anything when he's upstairs. Because I'm going to be there."

Falnas sighed. "Killing him will – "

"I won't kill him," Arska said. "At least, not until I'm ready to take my revenge on Maven. But I have a way of making people briefly pass out and wake up thinking they just had too much wine."

Oh right. She'd mentioned being hungry. So her plan was to jump him, drink her fill, and then leave him to regain consciousness on the ground.

"By the time he wakes," she whispered, "I'll be on the roof, the shingles back in place."

Falnas nodded. "And we'll both be gone through the front door. Alright, that just might work. First things first though."

"I'll stay with the young lady," Arska said, putting a friendly hand on the servant's shoulder. "You go find whatever it is you need."

"Great, I get to do the work."

She shrugged. "You're the Guild guy."

He sneaked across the hallway, the dog apparently having trotted off, and fished his lockpicks from his pocket. He went to work, pushing the tumblers up carefully with one pick and setting them in place with the other. He wasn't very good at picking locks, not compared to Brynjolf or Sapphire, but he knew enough to not have to resort to raking the picks, which was unreliable and noisy.

After a few tries, the lock snapped open, loudly enough to bring Mehrunes Dagon all the way from Oblivion to investigate, but no reactions, no alarms. He looked back and could only barely see Arska and the wench in the other room.

In he went, trying to spot the sofa, and seeing it set against the back room. He tiptoed over to it and stuck his hands between the cushions. Sure enough, there was a button there, and when he undid it, he could peel the leather back to reveal the cushion stuffing, and tucked into it, the small wooden box. He went to stand next to the window, and in what little light the moon cast, opened the box and checked the folded sheaf of papers inside. A lot of them were about her schemes to evade taxes, sabotage rival breweries and bribe officials. Juicy stuff, but nothing that would lead her to the gallows.

But the last paper, oh, that last paper. Grinning, he held it up to the moonlight and read:

Astrid,

I thought your people were supposed to be reliable. I've performed the Black Sacrament, I've paid the proper penance and I've waited patiently for results. If you can't handle a simple assassination, I'll find someone who can. I want this contract handled, and I want it handled immediately!

Maven Black-Briar

Falnas had to hold back laughter. Almalexia's worn and stretched-out pooper, she'd been dumb enough to actually sign it with her name and everything! This was probably a letter she'd been meaning to send, but didn't have to since the assassination had been carried out in the meantime. Oh, what joy. This was what they needed. Arska would definitely consider this suitable evidence. She'd walk up to this exact villa in the morning and chop Maven up in tiny pieces. The guard wouldn't dare lay a finger on her, and the Guild would be absolved of any guilt concerning Mjoll's assassination.

The only thing he wanted to do now was run to the Flagon and kiss Karliah square on the mouth.

But they had to get out of here first. The evidence was already secured, now safely stuffed inside Falnas' chest pocket, true, but Maul could still pose a problem, and part of absolving the Guild would mean not letting people know they'd procured the evidence through burglary.

He sneaked back to Arska and the girl, and announced in a triumphant whisper, "Got it. Oh Arska, you need to see it. You'll jump for joy."

"My friend is still dead, Falnas," she informed him flatly. "No joy in that."

"No, no, you're right," he said, realizing he was being a dolt. "But… well, this paper is all the evidence you'll need."

"I'll read it when we're back at your hidey-hole," she said calmly. "Now we have to get out of here. Wench, you're up." To Falnas, she said, "Keep her here until I've had time to reach the attic. Then let her go down to get this Maul lummox."

"He's not a lummox," Falnas warned. "He looks big and sluggish, but he's surprisingly fast and agile."

With a wink, Arska said before disappearing down the corridor, "Everyone is a lummox compared to me."

Falnas found himself grinning at the woman's snootiness. Worst thing was, she was probably right. Uppity, conceited little demigoddess she was.

"Alright," he said, kneeling by the servant girl. "Will you be able to handle this?"

She nodded, still sitting in the chair with her hands in her lap.

"Good. So just go downstairs and go, 'Big strong Maul, please go check upstairs I'm so scared'. That's all you need to do. I'll wait 'til he's gone upstairs, and I'll rejoin you. Then we leave together. They'll just think you ran away or something." He hoped. "You just lay low until Maven's got her comeuppance and then this whole nightmare's over for you."

"I'm not an idiot," she said, her tears dry. "I know what I need to do. But just… you're not going to kill me afterwards, are you?"

"No. No, of course not," Falnas said, indignant at the very notion. "We're thieves, but believe me, Mruki, we're the good guys here." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Trust me."

"So we just leave." She took her night gown between the thumb and index fingers of both hands. "With me dressed like this."

"We can't let you go to your room to pack. It'd be too risky."

"Great."

"Hey," Falnas whispered, trying to lighten the mood. "Think of it this way, a few minutes ago, you thought you were going to get your throat slit. This is an improvement, right?"

"I s'pose."

He nodded at her. "Go on, just stay calm and say what we agreed. It'll be fine."

She stood up without a word and took a breath. Before she went down, Falnas touched her arm and said, "Thank you for doing this. You're doing the right thing."

Still saying nothing, she glided past Falnas and out the door. He heard her bare feet patter on the wooden stairs, and then heard muffled voices, first hers, light and soft, then his, crude and low, only a single word. Then she spoke again, and after a moment of silence, there was the sound of a chair being pushed back.

Yes! He was falling for it!

As he went up the stairs, Falnas heard him go past the corridor and muttered, "Stupid bitch is probably just imagining things. Nine damn it. I'll give her something to imagine when I'm back downstairs."

It made him shudder with anger and disgust at the same time.

But he went past, and that was what mattered, and he had the second dog with him. When he heard the man's boots thump on the floor above him, he quickly, quietly darted downstairs and rejoined their new, unexpected ally. "Nicely done, girl," he grinned at the serving girl. "Let's go, we'll meet Arska across the street when she's done."

Silently, the girl snatched a cloak off the pegs next to the door, and with Maul's key, she opened the lock and led them outside. They crossed the street and from the alley opposite Maven's house, they looked at the roof, Falnas holding the girl against him and rubbing her arms to keep her warm, the girl shivering and standing on one leg, occasionally switching, to keep the cold from freezing both her feet.

After what seemed like an eternity, they saw a shape emerge onto the ridge of the roof, then bend over and fiddle with the shingles, and from there, scoot over to the other house, climbing back down the way they'd come. Unabashed, Arska trotted across the street to meet them.

"He went down like a sack of potatoes," she said with a grin. "Probably going to wake up in a few minutes and feel embarrassed for fainting dead-away like a little girl."

Inconspicuously, so the servant girl didn't see, Falnas permitted himself to reach out his hand and wipe the rivulet of blood from Arska's collar.