I do not own Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.

Also, hey, what's up? Are we all ready for this exciting tale of Ziris Coldwater and her adventures with the Thieves Guild? I know I am, but I wrote it, so like... I know what's going to happen.

Let's talk to reviewers, shall we?

WilSquare: I love getting long reviews right off the bat! It's always a good sign, and then you actually read through it and you feel ever better because it actually was good. You're commentary on the first chapter was awesome. Feel free to keep doing it for every chapter, friend. I like hearing from my readers.

Okay, now we can keep going.

Chapter 2: Adjusting

"All right," Mercer said, backing away from Ziris a few paces, and holding up his wooden practice weapons. "Once more."

Ziris let out a breath, and flexed her hands around the leather hilts of her own dagger and sword, and then she darted towards Mercer, wooden blades out.

The Guild Master easily stepped out of her way, but left a foot where he was, so that Ziris would trip over it. She let out a yelp as she stumbled to the stone floor of the cistern's practice room. Her knee hit the stone pretty hard, and she groaned to herself and rolled over onto her back.

Mercer stalked over to where she lay, and leaned over her. "What did I tell you before?" he asked dryly.

"That I'm not supposed to rush," Ziris grumbled back.

"Exactly." Mercer stepped away from her, and Ziris scrambled up to her feet, inhaling. Her knee was hurting something awful, and she was pretty sure she had enough bruises from Mercer's wooden weapons to last her a lifetime.

Still, she couldn't give up yet. She needed to perfect the move Mercer had taught her.

"Again," the Guild Master said, backing away even more. "And this time, think."

Ziris did think. She watched Mercer for a moment, studied his stance. His legs were spread apart, and he had both of his weapons held out to the sides, leaving his mid-region exposed. If she could get close enough, she'd have him. That was the problem, though. How was she supposed to get near him?

Instead of rushing straight at him this time, Ziris took a zigzagging path instead. Mercer seemed to be caught off guard by that, because he didn't move out of her way this time. Ziris was able to clash one of her weapons against his, while she used the other to get him in the belly.

Mercer glanced down at her, and Ziris blinked up at him in response.

"Got you," she said, and backed away.

Mercer grinned. "Very good, little raven," he told her. Ziris beamed under the praise.

She'd been with the Guild for almost a month. Mercer had given every spare moment of his time to her, teaching her how to fight with two blades, and how to pickpocket with the best of them. As for her lock picking training, he'd handed her over to Lyslin, who was even better than Brynjolf had told her.

The only thing Ziris had yet to learn was how to sneak around in the shadows, which was, she imagined, the most important part of being a thief. She was curious as to why her mentor hadn't tried to teach her anything just, but she also didn't want to ask him why. Mercer knew what he was doing, she reminded herself. He was the Guild Master.

Mercer was also a good teacher. He was patient with her, and taught by example, which Ziris found to be the easiest way to learn. He let her practice new moves as much she wanted on him, until she thought she had them perfect. He rarely praised her, however; it didn't seem to be his way. So the 'Very good' he'd graced her with just then was extremely welcome.

They'd been practicing for a long time, and Ziris was sweating. Her Guild armor had yet to be finished, and so she was still walking around in normal clothing. At least it was no longer rags. Her shirt was plastered to her skin by sweat, and she feared she would never be able to peel off her breeches.

"I hope that all the stamina you have now stays with you as you get older," Mercer told her, taking her wooden weapons away and putting them back in the chest he'd pulled them from. He pulled out a towel for her, and tossed it in her direction. "You'll need it, if you want to be able to fight as well."

"If I keep practicing, it will stay," Ziris responded, pressing the towel against her face to dab away the sweat.

"That's exactly right," Mercer said, pleased. "Keep practicing, and your skills will never weaken."

That was a common lesson he shared with her, and Ziris had taken it to heart. She practiced the moves he taught her on the dummies in the training room whenever she wasn't busy doing something else. Lyslin had mentioned that the locks on the practice chests were always reset, so she could practice lock picking whenever she wanted, too.

Still, what was the point of doing that when she didn't know how to sneak up to a door to lock pick it?

"Mercer," she started, lowering her towel.

"Hmm?"

"When are you going to teach me how to sneak?" Mercer glanced over at her, and Ziris bit her lip. "I just… I need to know how to do that, to be able to pick pockets and pick locks effectively, right?"

"Yes, you do," Mercer agreed, "but for right now, you need to perfect the extension skills of sneaking. When you have them down, we'll move on to the bigger picture, all right?"

Ziris frowned at him, but didn't try to argue. She nodded, and glanced around the training room, throwing the towel back to him. "I should practice my lock picking a little before supper," she said quietly.

"That's a good idea," Mercer agreed, putting the towels on top of a haybale. "Go ahead."

Ziris parted from him and went across the room to one of the chests, the one with the adept lock. She pulled a lock picking set out of her pocket, and set to work. Mercer watched, pleased, as she got the adept lock open within a minute, and she reached into the chest to receive her incentive for doing so. She pulled out the small purse of gold that was inside, and smiled to herself.

Mercer decided to leave her to it, and exited the training room. He walked down the short hall back into the cistern, and found the Guild's armorer, a big burly Nord named Daglin, waiting for him by his desk.

Mercer wasted no time in crossing the cistern to get to him, and Daglin nodded in greeting.

"I finished the armor set you asked for," he said to Mercer.

"Perfect." Mercer waited, and Daglin sighed before producing the armor from a basket he had by his feet. Mercer examined it. It seemed well-made, and to Ziris's size. She would be a true Thieves Guild member in this armor.

"Thank you," Mercer said, reaching into one of the pouches on his belt and pulling out a coin purse. "She'll be happy to finally have it."

"Mercer," Daglin began as Mercer started to pick up the armor set. "There's been rumors in the Flagon that we've lost a few of our normal clients. Is that true?"

Mercer froze, and glanced at the Nord. "Is it your business?" he retorted sharply.

"Yes," Daglin responded shortly. "It is. You pay us to set up shop in the Flagon, but if there's no money being made, then there's no point in us staying around."

Mercer glanced around the cistern to make sure they weren't attracting attention, and then he leaned across the desk towards Daglin. "It was only one client," he growled under his breath. "Nothing to start a panic about. Understood?"

Daglin didn't seem convinced, but he said nothing more. Instead, he moved away from the desk and headed across the cistern towards the door that led into the Ragged Flagon. Mercer watched him go through narrowed eyes, and then looked towards the hall that led to the training room. Ziris was coming out of it, yawning. He watched as she made her way towards the bed she had been given, and sat down on the edge of it, pulling a necklace out from under her shirt.

Mercer exhaled, already feeling calmer than he had been. He caught Lyslin's eye from where she was sitting on the edge of the stone walkway, and gestured for her to come to the desk.

The woman rose and walked over to him. Mercer passed her Ziris's armor.

"Hide this in one of the training chests," he told her, "and have Ziris practice lock picking on it tomorrow. Spread the word around so no one else gets to it first."

Lyslin smiled at him. "Inserting a lesson into a gift? You're too sweet, Master Frey."

Mercer rolled his eyes. The older woman winked at him and headed off in the direction of the training room. Mercer returned his attention to Ziris, and saw that was she looking around the cistern, as though trying to spot somebody. Mercer didn't doubt it was Brynjolf she was looking for. The two young thieves, separated by just a year in age, had become fast friends. If Mercer wasn't available, but Ziris felt like she wanted a live sparring partner, she went to Brynjolf. The footpad received the least amount of out-of-Riften jobs, and he was available to her more often than not.

Mercer wished that he had more time to give to Ziris. She was a quick learner, but she wouldn't hone the skills he was teaching her any faster than a normal thief if he didn't train with her everyday.

He had too many other responsibilities, however.

The red haired lad walked into the cistern, and Mercer saw Ziris's eyes light up, even from the distance. She stood up and hurried across the cistern to Brynjolf, who grinned when he spotted her, and slung an arm around Ziris's neck in a friendly manner.

"Where'd you go today?" Ziris asked him, her voice easily carrying across the cistern to where Mercer stood behind his desk.

"Just to the Marketplace," Brynjolf replied, and he reached into a pouch on his armor's belt. "I got this, though."

"Ooh!" Ziris exclaimed, grabbing for it.

Brynjolf held it up and away from her however, and shook his head. "This one goes to the Guild, Ziris. Sorry."

Ziris stopped trying to grab whatever it was, and she grinned at him. "That's fine. I don't want it. It's very pretty, though."

Brynjolf parted from her and jogged across the cistern to the desk. Mercer crossed his arms and watched as Brynjolf set down a silver amulet with four blue sapphires embedded to it. The young thief then looked at Mercer, smiling.

"I got it," he said.

"I see that," Mercer agreed. He reached into his desk and pulled out a coin purse. "There you are."

Brynjolf nodded, and started back towards where Ziris waited near the door to the Flagon. Mercer, however, had more business with him.

"Brynjolf, hold on a moment," he said. Brynjolf stopped, and turned around to face the desk again. "I've been watching you for the past month, and I appreciate you sparing with Ziris when I am unable too."

Brynjolf shrugged. "You're welcome. I know you're busy, and that she needs to learn."

"Still, I wanted to thank you, and offer you an incentive for doing so without being asked," Mercer continued. Brynjolf tilted his head, and Mercer handed him one of the many sheets of paper on his desk. Brynjolf read it over, his eyes widening considerably as he did so. He looked up from the parchment.

"Are you giving me this job?" he asked.

Mercer nodded. "If you want it, of course. I know it isn't that exciting, just a small heist on Whiterun's marketplace, but the majority of what you steal, you can keep. Our client just wants one item in particular." Mercer watched Brynjolf's expression change to a more level one. "Think you can do it?"

"Of course," Brynjolf responded, sliding the parchment away into one of his pouches. "I'll leave tomorrow morning."

"Sounds good," Mercer agreed. "Get some rest, then."

Brynjolf nodded, and turned away from Mercer's desk. Ziris gave him a look when he joined her again.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"I get to go to Whiterun on a job," Brynjolf answered, holding the door to the Flagon open for her.

Ziris blinked at him in amazement. "Really? That's great!" She then sighed. "I wish I could go with you."

Brynjolf glanced down at her, and saw her expression. He grinned, and put an arm around her. "Soon enough," he said to her. "You'll be better than me before you know it, and I'll be the one wishing I could go on jobs with you."

That seemed to make Ziris feel better, and she gave him a grateful look. She then parted from him to sit at one of the tables in the Flagon. Brynjolf went to the bar to retrieve some food for them.

Vekel the Man, as he was called, although Ziris doubted he was much older than twenty years, gave Brynjolf a nod.

"What can I get you today, young Brynjolf?" he asked.

"You're not much older than me, Vekel," Brynjolf replied disdainfully.

Vekel put a finger to his lips and grinned. "What would you like?"

"Whatever's hot," Brynjolf answered with a shake of his head.

Vekel winked, and turned around to retrieve the food he'd had over the fire pit. He turned back to Brynjolf with two wooden plates full of fried potatoes and a rabbit leg.

"How did you kill a rabbit?" Brynjolf asked him, taking the plates.

"One of my many talents, Bryn," Vekel answered, and turned away again, snatching the gold Brynjolf had dropped on the counter for him.

Brynjolf sighed to himself, and carried the dinner over to the table where Ziris had sat down. He set down the plates, and Ziris started to pass him some gold, to pay him back for her supper. Brynjolf shook his head. "Keep it."

"Are you sure?" Ziris asked him.

"Yeah," Brynjolf answered, grinning at her. "I'm about to get rich off a Whiterun heist."

Ziris snorted, but took her gold back all the same. "Whatever you say, Brynjolf the Great Thief."

Brynjolf glanced up from his food at her comment, and watched Ziris sniff at one of the fried potatoes before putting it into her mouth. She met his gaze. "What?" she asked.

"Are you… resentful?"

"You don't even know what resentful means," Ziris responded, smirking.

"I bet you don't, either," Brynjolf retorted. The girl opened her mouth to shoot something back, but realized that she didn't know what resentful meant, and she couldn't say anything. Brynjolf lifted an eyebrow. "You know what I mean, anyway. Are you mad that I'm more experienced than you?"

"Well… when you put it that way…"

"Ziris, you've been here for a month," Brynjolf said. "I know it seems like ages, but I went through the exact same thing you did. Give yourself some time to perfect your skills. It'll be worth it."

Ziris rolled her eyes, and then she remembered something she'd wanted to share with him. She glanced over her shoulder, and then leaned towards him. "You want to hear something I heard?"

"Always," Brynjolf replied, picking up a fried potato.

"Apparently we lost one of our clients," Ziris told him. "I heard Mercer talking about it with Molgrom."

Mercer had chosen Molgrom to be his second-in-command.

Brynjolf looked up from his meal, the fried potato halfway to his mouth. "When did you hear that?"

"Earlier this afternoon," Ziris answered, pleased she knew something that Brynjolf didn't. "Mercer thinks that clients are going to start leaving, now that Gallus isn't around to keep them with us."

Brynjolf had explained to Ziris that part of the reason Gallus had been a great Guild Master was because of all the connections he had with important people all over Skyrim. He understood, then, why those clients would leave the Guild, since the connection through Gallus no longer existed.

Mercer's fears weren't unwarranted.

"I hate to think what that'll do to the Guild," Brynjolf murmured, almost to himself.

Ziris frowned, not understanding. "Why? We don't just have the clients Gallus had, right? There's others."

"Well, sure, there's the Black-Briar family. They've been with the Guild since even before Gallus, but… that's just one." Brynjolf sighed to himself. "This could be really bad."

Ziris was getting more and more worried. She hadn't thought it was that big of a deal when she'd heard Mercer and Molgrom discussing it, but apparently it was.

She hoped that Mercer would be able to get things under control before too many clients left. Not having any would mean the Guild wouldn't have footing in some of Skyrim's holds, and that wouldn't be good. They needed to be feared - it was what brought in gold without stealing.

Brynjolf had explained all of this to her and more. Being Gallus's protégée had given him the ability of having an inside look of the Guild. He knew more that a lot of the other thieves did, and he'd been sharing what he knew with Ziris since she'd arrived. She was grateful for the information, but she was careful to keep her knowledge to herself. She didn't know if Mercer would get angry that she knew so much after only a month of being in the Guild.

Maybe it was common knowledge that the clients kept the Guild upright, and it wasn't just the work of the thieves on its own. Maybe Ziris had nothing to worry about in knowing it. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry.

She glanced down at her supper, suddenly not feeling very hungry. She knew it wouldn't be fair to Brynjolf if she didn't finish the food he had bought for her, but she didn't feel like eating. Looking across the table at Brynjolf, she saw that the redheaded boy seemed to feel similarly.

"Brynjolf?" she asked quietly, and his eyes raised from his partially eaten supper. She frowned at him, and he gave her a reassuring grin.

"Don't worry too much about it," he said. "I'm sure Mercer will get it figured out."

As soon as he finished speaking, the sounds of shouts erupted from the direction of the cistern. Ziris and Brynjolf exchanged concerned glances, and both quickly abandoned their meals in favor of going to see what was happening.

They poked their heads into the cistern, and Ziris let out a gasp when she saw what was occurring inside.

It appeared that an all out war had broken out amongst the thieves. Some had others pressed against walls, daggers to their throats. More still were fighting one another along the walkways. Ziris spotted the Khajiit thief, J'saad, with his blade to Mercer's throat, behind the Guild Master's desk.

"New management," the cat was hissing. "The Guild will do nothing but sink under your leadership, Mercer Frey!"

Ziris quickly drew the iron dagger Mercer had given her earlier on that week, and she darted across the cistern towards the feuding thieves, ignoring Brynjolf's protests. She clambered onto the desk and jumped onto the Khajiit's back with a grunt, wrapping one arm around his neck and pressing her dagger against his temple. The cat let out a yowl, attracting everyone's attention. Delvin, who'd been cornered by someone, was able to snatch the thief's blade from his hand and turn it on him. Niruin managed to pull an arrow back in his bow and aim it at the thief that was approaching him with a drawn dagger. Vex elbowed her attacker in the stomach and pulled away, drawing her dagger as she went.

Just like that, the tables had turned.

Mercer let out a breath through his nose and took a step forward towards J'saad, drawing his sword. The Khajiit squirmed against Ziris's hold, but she tightened the grip she had around his neck, and the cat let out a choking gasp.

"You have two choices," Mercer began, his voice low and dark enough to be a snarl. "Leave, or be killed."

"We're dying off anyhow!" J'saad spat. "You know it, I know it… the Guild isn't going to survive Gallus's death, and you, Mercer, are going to personally see to its extinction."

Hearing this, Ziris's grip on him loosened as she looked at Mercer in shock. The Khajiit immediately reached behind him and grabbed her by the back of her shirt and easily tossed her away. She hit the floor hard, aware of the crack that sounded as her head hit the stone. Almost at once, Mercer flew at J'saad, blade flashing in the lantern light. The cat hissed at him and ducked away, hurrying for the ladder. The thieves that had attacked rushed after him, pushing the others to the ground or narrowly avoiding a swinging blade.

A few minutes passed as the betrayers darted up the ladder and disappeared. They didn't come back.

Mercer slid his sword away and walked over to where Ziris lay. He crouched beside her, and helped her sit up, slowly.

"All right?" he asked, gazing at her, and she managed a nod, rubbing the spot where her head had hit the floor. A bump was going to form there for sure.

Mercer helped her stand and supported her weight as she took stock of the remaining thieves. Vex, Niruin and Delvin, who had rushed to the other side of the cistern and was bent over something, sobbing.

Brynjolf slid into the cistern and walked over to him, stopping after he'd reached a certain distance. He then glanced over towards where Mercer stood.

"They killed Lyslin," he said, just loud enough so his voice would carry.

Ziris let out a moan and turned so that her face was hidden in Mercer's chest. The Guild Master placed a gentle hand against the back of her head as he glanced around at the rest of the thieves that still remained. The number was… not good.

"I appreciate the loyalty you all showed just now," he said, wording his phrase carefully. "Clearly, not everyone was happy with the way things turned out. I'm sorry to say that our numbers have been, obviously, diminished."

"What do we do now?" Vex asked him, and Mercer turned his gaze down to Ziris, who lifted her head long enough to look at him. He exhaled.

"We keep going," he replied. "We're still the Thieves Guild. We'll simply have to rebuild."

At that moment, there was the sound of movement at the ladder, and Niruin quickly drew an arrow back in his bowstring. He lowered it, however, when Molgrom hopped down off of the ladder. He turned around, stared at the empty cistern for a moment, and then looked at Mercer.

"I warned you," he said solemnly, and then he made his way over to his bed and sank down onto it.

Mercer didn't respond to this. Instead, he glanced down at Ziris again, who was still gazing up at him, her eyebrows drawn.

"'Personally see to its extinction'." Mercer exhaled, and Ziris's frown grew. "What did he mean?"

"He was just trying to convince himself that what he and his followers were doing was right," Mercer answered after a moment. "That's all." He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "You didn't hesitate before jumping onto his back and pulling him away from me."

"He was going to kill you," Ziris responded, not sounding the least bit doubtful. "I couldn't let that happen."

Mercer offered her a nod, and then Ziris pulled away from him and started across the cistern towards where Brynjolf was crouched beside Delvin. She joined them on the floor, carefully avoiding looking at Lyslin's dead body, and she silently put her arms around Delvin.

She glanced at Brynjolf as she did so, and the young thief shook his head tiredly. Clearly, he felt the same as she did; he had no idea as to how the Guild would be able to survive this.

Ziris pressed her forehead against Delvin's shoulder and exhaled. They'd figure it out. After all, they were thieves. They could handle anything.

So, it's been said that the uprising after Gallus's death was a lot more drawn out than this, and that there were a lot more factions involved but uh...

I like this way better. Sorry about that.

Anyhow, leave a review if you want, tell me what I'm doing wrong, or what I'm doing right. I'd really appreciate it.

Love you!