-This chapter'll be a break from the usual flow of the story. Rest assured, it's all still connected, as it's part of another idea I've had brewing in my head as well. I'm confident I can make this work as well in the long run. Anyway, I apologize for the break in between updates; enjoy this next one!-
"Whoa there," Bjorlam gently pulled back on his reins. His horse slowly slowed its walk to a stop, bringing them both and the carriage to a halt. It shook its head in place to swish its mane hair all around, while giving a contented grunt. This trip had been a long one, and some rest was well deserved, for both of them.
"Hail there, Bjorlam!" a voice called out. Bjorlam turned to see the Riften Stable keeper, Hofgrir Horse-crusher, wave at him from the pillar of one of the empty horse stables, "Haven't seen you here in a while."
"Aye, been some time since I've passed by Riften..." Bjorlam politely waved back. Gathering his small number of belongings in hand, he slowly made his descent off of the carriage and onto the ground, "I'm just lucky I made it before the mist became too thick to see through."
"Yeah, it's been one of those seasons..." Hofgrir said, "Any trouble on the roads? From Imperials or Stormcloaks?" Bjorlam shrugged his shoulders once.
"A small group of passing Stormcloaks questioned me a bit on the way past Fort Greenwall, but nothing too major," he said, "I'm just looking now to relax to a nice mug of ale."
"You enjoy it, I'll make sure ole Betsie here gets treated like the princess she is," Hofgrir said, directing his attention to the horse and carriage attachments, "Now girl, let's get you unhooked..." With that, Bjorlam turned away to let the stable man work and made his way to the city gates. At first glance all seemed quiet enough. The afternoon sun was casting a barely yellow ray of midday light upon Riften's walls. While the mist was not nearly as thick now as it tended to get, what little was there reflected this light through its filter, thus illuminating the walls even further. There was no way this sort of aesthetic was intentional...
He approached the entry gates, where a nearby Riften guard looked up to notice him. He didn't say anything, yet still moved to open one of the gate's doors for him. Bjorlam slipped through, and the guard closed the door behind him.
Whatever mystifying appeal Riften's outer walls greeted any traveler from the outside was immediately gone upon stepping into the city itself. The entire place was coated in a barely visible fog, enough for one to only be able to see about twenty feet in front of them. This fog completely concealed the roofs of surrounding buildings from being seen. As such, only the light from nearby torch braziers as well as the stone pathway themselves could provide one with adequate directions. And it was very important that one knew exactly what they were to do when entering Riften...
A shudder crept down Bjorlam's spine as he walked along the path. He'd just had a long day of travel with his horse drawn carriage, as well as those two passengers from Whiterun. He had plenty of excuse to be and act tired, now if only that excuse could carry over to prevent him from unnecessary interactions with... certain people. This was Riften after all, home to the most unsavory of sorts.
Bjorlam's hand unconsciously drifted backward to brush against the coin-purse that was still secured around his belt loop. Good, it was still there; It was no secret some big gang of thieves made their home here, ready to slit the strings of any passing person's coin-purse. He himself was also definitely not a fighter, nor was he that physically active. There was no way he could fight off any potential thief that happened upon him nor chase after one that managed to lift something from him. He would just do his best to avoid contact with everyone on his way to the tavern-
"Hello, Bjorlam."
Bjorlam's teeth gritted, and he unfortunately was forced to slow his pace down to a halt. If that voice belonged to whom he thought it did, then he was already off to a bad start. Turning his head, he was greeted by the sight of a muscular Nord, clad in steel armor, a massive two-handed sword hanging off his back, standing off to the side. He simply stood there, leaning against a wooden support beam for the house behind him, arms crossed over his chest, a sneer adorning his face.
"Ah, hello, Maul..." he managed. Just his luck, running into Maul of all people...
"Funny you should swing by here," the bigger Nord said, "They do say being on time is a good trait for any customer to have."
"Eh? On time?"
"Don't play dumb with me; We both know why you've come," Maul dropped his hands and stepped away from the pillar, moving ever closer to Bjorlam, "You owe something, and I aim to collect it." The sight of this muscled, armor-clad brutish Nord about to bear down on him was enough to send a shiver down Bjorlam's spine. This was one thing he did not need at the moment. And a quick glance at his surroundings told him they were all alone in this area; no guards to be seen.
"Ah, y-yes, I have it right here..." he hastily reached to his side to retrieve the items in question: a small, folded piece of paper, and a separate coin purse with a hefty sum of thirty coins. He held them before Maul, who wasted no time in snatching them from his outstretched hands. Disregarding the note for the moment, he held the coin purse in his other hand, lifting it up and down to get a rough feel for it. After a moment, he looked back at the carriage driver, eyebrow raised.
"Seems to me like you're a bit short," he said, "There's also that bit you owe me, personally."
"W-what?!" Bjorlam's eyes widened, "But, you said that debt had already been covered the last time!"
"Did I say that...?" Maul mockingly considered, "Well as it turned out, during last time extra protection was needed, on my part no less. So you can consider that debt 'reopened'..." Bjorlam stared at him; this was ludicrous! He was almost certain there hadn't been any need to cover any more than he had! Plus he had already done his service to him by giving him that sum and the note. Why couldn't that have been enough?
One more solid look at this man told him that such reasoning would be lost on him. That sword on his back was looking mighty sharp, as if it had been sharpened just recently...
With a defeated groan, Bjorlam reached into his pocket. He pulled forth an additional ten septims from within; his own money that he'd been saving up on the road. His heart stabbed in pain as he gave away his honest-earned coins to the other Nord's awaiting palm. They fell into his hand, and Maul clamped it shut with a grin.
"Good doing business with ya," he said, "Now run along; The Bee and Barb's definitely got some ale that even the likes of you can afford...!" Bjorlam flinched in response, then quickly rushed away towards said tavern, or rather in a direction he thought the Bee and Barb was. Whichever way he went that got him away from this man was good for him!
With a small chuckle, Maul looked down at his recently acquired earnings. Not a bad haul for today; The Guild gets its required donations, and he'd still have a little on the side himself! He might even have to swing by the Bee and Barb himself for a drink at some point. Ale up here on the surface always had a different taste to it; a more... richer taste.
"Been hard at work, Maul?" The Nord heard a voice. He turned his head to where he'd heard it from, and smirked when he saw who it was. A wood elf approached him, dressed in a casual outfit. Maul smiled different smile at the sight of her; the kind he would give to a friend or acquaintance.
"Hey there, Gal," he said, "Yeah, just wracked in today's 'donations'. Here you go..." He held out the coin purse and the small note towards her. Her smaller hand took it from him, first testing its weight in her hand for a moment, then tucked it into her side bag.
"Excellent, I'll make sure the Guild gets this," she said. She then crossed her arms and gave him a knowing look, "I also heard a little between you two; 'extra protection was needed'?"
"Heh, what can I say?" Maul said with a shrug, "Even I have to make my earnings somehow. Besides, if he was dumb enough to believe that, then he and his gold deserved to be separated."
"You know you'll get your share, like all the others!" she reminded him, "Just, be careful how often you do this? Might be you'll arouse too much suspicion if you keep being careless."
"Yeah yeah, I got it..." the Nord said.
"Well anyway, I'm off to get this delivered," she indicated to the coin purse and the note, "You have fun up here!" She turned to walk down the path into Riften's central plaza.
"Let Dirge know I'm still on for drinks later on!" Maul called after her. He didn't hear if she'd heard him, but he'd just as well assumed she had. With that he crossed his arms back over his chest and leaned back up against his support beam. Time to see who'd be visiting Riften next...
The Ragged Flagon, Riften's 'other' tavern. There was no mistake in reasoning for its notoriety. Whereas the Bee and Barb up top was for the more noble souls of this world, this one was for the more... 'honest' type. Of course, honesty of this type was a more flexible than one would think. At the Ragged Flagon, one didn't need to hide any ulterior motives that were kept hidden in the back of one's mind. Everyone here knew what their neighbor was all about, and were perfectly fine with that.
And of course, so was Galadriel.
As she closed the sewer door behind her, she once again gazed upon the lower tavern before her, a body of sewer water separating her from it. From up above, afternoon light that poured down in from the city well above illuminated the entire chamber. Even without the nearby torches on the opposite side wall, the Flagon was still lit up like a beacon for 'degenerates', 'frowned-upon', and 'disreputables' of society. The perfect place for someone of her trade to fit in.
She made her way around the stone walkway that encircled the body of water. From her current angle and out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Herluin Lothaire's dimly lit apothecary in one of the occupied spaces within the wall. The man in question could be seen working diligently at his alchemy station brewing something up. Knowing him, it was a toxin for some special occasion.
She neared the edge of the stone walkway itself, where the next section was in fact a massive platform of wood held over the water. From where she was she could hear the faint chatter of the Flagon's patrons, as well as who she was returning to meet up with. But of course, before she could get to them...
"Were you followed?"
Dirge would have to come first. The fair-haired Nord stood at the wooden entryway of the platform, arms crossed. The man was clad in leather armor, which still managed to showcase the taut muscles in the skin of his arms. He looked down upon the smaller wood elf, that same stern gaze never changing nor lifting. She was thoroughly convinced that the man was born was that same face, and would enter the grave himself with that same face adorned. At first this look did its job to cast intimidation, but after a while and she got more used to it, the more tiring it seemed.
"Dirge..." Galadriel said with an exasperated sigh, "Look behind me; that door back there is the only way in and out to get to the Ragged Flagon! Does it look like I was followed?!"
"Can't be too careful you know," the Nord bouncer with an aloof tone in his voice, "Trouble could come from anywhere, from anyone, which I ain't about to let happen. Don't expect mercy from me if you cause trouble, doesn't matter if you're one of us."
"Yeah yeah, we've been through this practically every time we've spoken..." Galadriel replied. The harshness in his tone did not cut deep with her anymore, yet his meaning still held strong, "And no, I was not followed, so that's something you can drink to. Oh and speaking which, Maul up top told me to tell you he's still on for drinks later." Dirge's face maintained its stern image, yet the corners of his lips pulled back ever so slightly. In Galadriel's eyes, that might've been the closest thing she would get as a smile out of him.
"Heh, another round of me drinking him under the table you mean?" he said, "If baby brother still thinks he can beat me, he's welcome to try..." Galadriel shook her head slightly, even as she walked past the bouncer. Along this wooden platform, the voices of the patrons could be heard much clearer now.
"It's all true! You can ask any one of them you see! 'Vekel the Man, I'll never find another man as great as him'!"
"Uh-huh, sure..." Sitting at the bar an Imperial woman held her look of non-caring, even as she sipped from her tankard, "And when you say anyone we see, do you really mean anyone only 'you' can see?"
"Oy, speakin' of seein' women, look who's 'ere," said another man sitting from a nearby table. The two at the bar turned their heads to see the wood elf make her way up to the bar. She leaned an arm up against the bar-top, a tap of her palm against the wood signalling a tankard as well.
"Oh hey Galadriel, you made it back," the woman said, "And I assume with good news?" Vekel finished pouring a healthy tankard of Honningbrew mead and slid it over to Galadriel's awaiting open hand.
"Yes I have, Vex," Galadriel replied, then made a quick glance over her shoulder at the Breton sitting at the table behind her, "And same you too, Delvin."
"Do you now?" the man said, "Well then, let's see what you got..." She reached into one of her pockets to fish forth two items: a pure, flawless sapphire stone, and a golden band adorned with an equally flawless emerald gemstone. Both of these precious minerals sparkled light from the tavern's nearby braziers. This in turn caused the surrounding three peoples' eyes to sparkle at the sight, which caused Galadriel to smile.
"I hear someone 'lost' their precious ring," she subtly glanced in Delvin's direction, then back over to Vex, "and someone 'misplaced' their 'heirloom'." She tossed the ring over to the man, and passed the blue stone over to Vex. Both of them looked over their respective items, and in turn sporting satisfied smiles. From the other side of the bar, Vekel watched this scene unfold, and his eyes narrowed in contrast.
"People really oughtta 'old on to their valuables better," Delvin played along with the meaning, "Seems stuff like this gets lost all the time."
"Yeah, this looks like the right one," Vex stopped squinting at the sapphire to look back at Galadriel, "Good job, the client will be pleased. I guess you'll be wanting your payment for this."
"That would be nice," Galadriel said, extending a hand out. Vex handed her a small coin purse loaded with precious coin. The Wood Elf turned around and also accepted a second one handed to her by Delvin. Two jobs done equaling two times the pay; not bad for the aspiring expert thief.
"She got 'em? She got the stuff?" a nearby Redguard's voice called out from the other side of the wooden platform.
"That she did, Tonillia," Delvin replied, "Both of 'em in one go!"
"Ha! You lose, Vekel!" Tonillia said, "In fact, looks like you lose double for her bringing both of them in!"
"Drgh, blast it...!" the barkeep grumbled as he fished his own hand into his pocket in search of something.
"Wait a minute, there was a coin bet going on?" Galadriel looked back and forth between the four other people in the tavern.
"It's a... nothing really, I mean..." Vekel stammered, finally retrieved a thick coin purse of his own and placed it on the bar-top. With a smirk, Vex took the bag along with the sapphire and brought them over to the other woman.
"What he means to say is he lost that bet, fair and square," Tonillia said, "He'd bet that you couldn't pull off either of Vex's nor Delvin's jobs successfully, whereas I said you could!"
"Really? Huh, would you look at that," Galadriel said, looking at Vex, "Wasn't it you that said no one was getting past you? Looks like I'm getting 'big enough' that people are placing bets on me!"
"Yeah yeah, whatever," Vex said, "I was just lucky to stay out of gambling any of my coin... Anyway, how went stuff up top?"
"Nothing of any major concern up there, everyone is paying their dues..." Galadriel said, taking another swig from her tankard, "And I just picked up the 'contributions' from Maul, including the 'inventory list' from the local carriage driver. Guess I should go deliver that in."
"Ah, perfect timing on that," Vex said, "Brynjolf came back in about five minutes before you did, so you can give it to him yourself." Galadriel her mouth curl up into a smirk at the mentioning of that name. With one last swig of her tankard, she tucked away her recent earnings into her pockets. She then shuffled around the tables and towards a small hallway on the same wall as the tavern itself, Delvin watching after her.
"You just had to go say it like that, didn't you?" Delvin turned back to Vex. The blonde Imperial shrugged her shoulders, as she took a seat back up at the bar stool.
"She's got another bit of job to get completed, Delvin, in case you've forgotten," Vex said. Still, for a brief moment, the corner of her own mouth twitched upward as well before relaxing, "And besides... I'd say she's earned every bit of good stuff comin' her way. For all she's done for this Guild?"
"Ah yeah, really brought us out of the figurative gutta', didn't she?" Delvin said, going back to taking bites out the meat on his plate.
"She has helped us out a great deal..." Tonillia added, "With all these clients agreeing to meet back with us for business, it won't be long before our reach isn't just restricted to down here in the Ratway. And speaking which, Vex, Delvin? I've got some more clients with jobs lined up for us, so listen up!"
There was a time, a while back, when the Ratway was nothing more than that of its own namesake. A sewer chamber, where water, wastes, and whatever discarded things from the world above drifted down into. A place where no one in any right mind would ever want to find themselves at any point, whether they were of 'good' morale standing, or... perhaps those of 'alternative' lifestyles. Light shone down from above the enlarged chamber, a sole window connecting this world to that of the outside. This light was all there was at one point to showcase the sad, decrepit state the world below really was.
Now though, things were different for the Thieves Guild.
In every sense, things were definitely turning around for those who made their home down here. What was important now was that fortune seemed to be smiling back upon this now hardy organization. The name of the Thieves' Guild was now stretching out across Riften and even to outlying settlements within the Rift. As a result, crafty, cunning, and stealthy individuals were now practically begging to join up within its ranks to plunder Skyrim's very pockets.
As Galadriel walked within the Thieves' Guild's main chamber, she looked all around at these new recruits. They could be seen at various points around the stone archways that acted as bridges over the central water area doing various things. There were sets of training dummies and long range targets that were being made use of by an archer, and several beds outlining the wall's perimeter. It was almost hard to believe that once upon a time, back when she'd first came here, none of this was here at all. There wasn't even any decent furniture down here; this place was an actual sewer, a dead-end stop for the unfortunate. And of course, the Ratway and the Thieves Guild were both reflections of each other, as the organization had fallen on hard times. Galadriel could feel a frown growing over her face as she recalled these hard times, and especially what she had been through to overcome them.
But overcome them she did. She was now a better sneak, a better thief, held more confidence within her, and more importantly, she now had a purpose to live for. An additional reason to want to do what she did. It was all tied to the very shadows that she took comfort in when she plied her trade. Someone would be there for her, from beyond, but also in the physical world as well: her two partners Karliah and Brynjolf.
Speaking of the latter, she crossed over the stone archway connecting to the other side of the walkway. On the other side was a small desk with various items of immense value decorating it, and a man standing behind it. Like her, he was also dressed as a casual city-goer; an every day salesman. He was currently looking down and reading from a parchment on the desk before him. At the sound of her footsteps, he looked up from his work, a smile gracing his mouth as he realized who it was.
"Ah lass, you've returned," he said, "So, how did you get on?"
"Here I am, but..." Galadriel looked all around at the Ratway's current inhabitants, "Karliah isn't here?"
"Not at the moment, she's still outside of town running that other job," Brynjolf explained, "But you on the other hand, I trust you've returned with something good?"
"Oh yes, something very good," Galadriel said with a smile. She held out a hefty bag of gold coins and set it on the desk in front of him. Brynjolf smirked at first, then looked back up at the Wood Elf.
"Oh, that is good news; well done indeed," he said, taking the jingling bag and setting it underneath the desk, "You run into any trouble getting this?"
"Eh, nothing I wasn't able to handle," Galadriel shrugged, "That Vulwulf acts tough until you know the right buttons to push with him."
"Aye, a right pain the ass he is," Brynjolf agreed, "You know he's one of the few in this city that claims my Falmerblood Elixir isn't genuine! Oh, can you imagine the audacity?" The man added a mocking tone regarding the man in question.
"Sounds like the 'best salesman' in Riften's market just needs to pitch the product better," Galadriel teased with a smile, "Oh, and also... there's this." She handed the folded note to Brynjolf as well.
"Ah, even better, practically a whole shopping list of potential items to lift, straight from the eyes of the lowly, unsuspecting carriage driver," he started to unfold the parchment, then stopped as he glanced back up at the Wood Elf, "You know what...? How about you be the first to hear of these potential takes, before I pass this to Tonillia?" Galadriel's eyes narrowed at this strange, out of nowhere suggestion.
"Me? Really?" she said, "Isn't the honor of first viewing reserved for the leader?"
"Come now lass, we both know I'm far from being cut out to be leader of anything," Brynjolf said while shaking his head, "I'm just playing the role of 'acting leader' until someone more worthy fills this void..." Brynjolf looked back into her eyes, "You know, the offer you were given is still there, if you're interested. Even some of these green recruits around here wouldn't dispute you being chosen for the job at all."
"And I already told you I still need time to think it out," Galadriel said, "I mean, being the new leader of the Thieves Guild, and so soon after... well..." She was lucky that all she did was trail off, as that line of thought was bound to bring up some very unpleasant conversation topics. Not to mention a very unpleasant someone. The Nord thief waved and dismissed the notion with one hand.
"Alright, I understand," he said, "But anyway, I'd still say you've earned a right to a preview to rich pickings before others..." His hand pointed down towards the note still before her.
"Well, alright, why not?" Galadriel took the note in her hands, unfolded it completely, and beheld the words written upon it.
"Let's see... 'A pair of silver rings, held by a blue-garbed Imperial woman, during the trip from Dragon Bridge to Markarth'... 'A coin purse of at least sixty coins', by the loose-lipped man's count anyway, 'and a gold locket with ivory finish, held by a Breton man on the trip from Markarth to Whiterun'..."
"Ivory finish?" Brynjolf said, "That's pretty rare, as ivory mostly comes harvested from mammoth tusks. Gods know how hard those are to come by... It sounds like that last one might be a right heirloom!"
"Plus that coin purse with all those septims?" Galadriel added, "Now I'm really loving that you had me read this first before anyone else!" The two shared a smile and a light laugh between each other before the Wood Elf continued to read. Slowly however, the smile on her face diminished into a small frown, which Brynjolf quickly took notice.
"Lass? What's wrong?" he said. She said nothing, but slowly tilted the note at an angle to allow him to see it slightly. While her one hand held one side of it, he reached up with his hand to pinch its other side.
"'Sword owned by Balgruuf the Greater, held by his housecarl, Lydia, while also travelling with another Nord woman, on the way to... Ivarstead?" He read. Galadriel's fingers released the note, allowing Brynjolf to take the note completely and scan it more thoroughly, "Huh, Ivarstead... that's an unusual stop for..." He trailed off as he looked back up at the girl's face. Her mouth was still in a frown, and her eyes appeared to have darkened a little, "Hey um... are you alright lass?" Galadriel looked back up at him, then gave a sigh.
"I'll... I'll be fine," she said, "You already know how I feel regarding the Jarl of Whiterun. I try not to let it affect me too much, and then comes moments like this when I feel like... like..." Brynjolf reached over the desk and placed a comforting hand on the Wood Elf's shoulder. The smile he held on his face was one of equal comfort. Galadriel found her face flushing uncontrollably at this contact. Of all the times she could've been wearing her thief's hood, why couldn't it have been now?!
"Having moments like those don't make you weaker... they make you stronger in the long run- they give you resolve," he said, "But just be sure that you control it, rather than let it control you. You- no, 'we've' seen what happens to those who do let it control them..." Memories that she had tried to banish from her mind earlier came flooding back in. Galadriel gently closed her eyes and shook her head. At the same time one of her gloveless hands reached up to rest on top of Brynjolf's at her shoulder. Hard, coarse leather greeted her skin, yet she somehow felt his natural hand all the same.
Luck was truly restored for her to know this man!
"Thanks," she said, giving the hand a pat, "I think... I'll be fine... I'll just... Yeah, I will..." Brynjolf pulled his hand back and took the note back.
"How about you get some rest then?" Brynjolf suggested, "You must be tired after running Vex and Delvin's jobs, and I hear Niruin's making that special soup of his that you like." Just like that, Galadriel's eyes nearly lit up. Her mouth curled back up into a smile.
"Oh Brynjolf, how ever do you know my weaknesses...?"
"We're thieves, lass; it's in our nature know," the man gave a smirk of his own, "I'll get this stuff finished with on this end, then hand this off to Toniliia." Galadriel gave a nod and prepared to turn around, "Oh and lass?"
"Yeah?"
"Well... perhaps at some point, off work and all that..." Brynjolf rubbed the back of his head, "We could find... 'other' ways to spend our 'hard-earned' coin... you know, the two of us?" Galadriel's own smirk became a clear smile.
"I thought you'd never ask; I'd like that," she said with a wink. She turned around and made her way back over the stone arch walk-way above the central water. 'Other ways to spend coin'? For all that man's charm at selling phony potions, he still lacked a certain 'finesse' at speaking with women. But maybe that was just one of the reasons Galadriel took such a liking to him. That quality of his helped make him endearing!
Looking off to her left side, she could see the larder where all the food was located. Even from this distance, a cooking pot was hanging off of a spit over a small cooking fire. No doubt that was where that delicious Valenwood soup would be found. She felt her mouth watering just from the memory of when she'd tasted it last. She turned in that direction and passed by her fellow Guild-mates, who casually waved to her.
"Welcome back, Galadriel!" the Bosmer Niruin called out to her in the middle of shooting his bow at target dummies. He pointed over to the kitchen area, "Just whipped up my Falinesti Soup a few minutes ago!"
"I know! I can't wait to get some!" She retrieved an empty bowl from the table and scooped out generous helpings of the soup that was still in the larger, black pot. Her nose was already being bombarded by the savory aromas! Once she was done she grabbed a spoon from the table as well and moved around on the surrounding stone walk-way.
A row of beds also lined the outer walls of this sewer chamber, with hers being at the very end and right next to the exit space. She plopped herself down on her bed and wasted no time in eating her soup.
"Hmmm...!" she said. It was still as great as the last time she'd had it! There were few times while in Skyrim of all places that someone like her could sample foods from her own country. That's why it was lucky a fellow Bosmer like Niruin was around to provide what she'd mostly been missing out on! Regular Skyrim soup recipes hardly held candles to good Valenwood cuisine. A taste of home...
Valenwood. That was something that crossed her mind on more than one occasion, the place where she was born, along with most Wood Elves everywhere. In fact, her earliest memories she could recount, she could see in her mind the tall trees of thick forests, hear the chirping of the native birds, even smell that distinct aroma of mist in the air. Those were not feelings someone like her could so easily forget.
Galadriel broke from her spoon-fed sips to sigh. Not all the memories of her home country were happy ones. There were those that were sad, almost painfully so. Her parents...
She glanced over to her bed's nightstand, its top drawer. Galadriel reached a hand over and slid it open by a crack. Was it still there...? Yes, it was. A simple folded note. One hand set her soup on top of the nightstand while the other pulled the note out. On the surface, nothing was special about this piece of parchment. No deformities, no embroideries added to it, nothing. And yet, the words that were contained within this note were worth far more than anything in this world. Galadriel could steal one of those fabled Elder Scrolls themselves and they would hardly compare to the value of this single note!
She unfolded it and beheld the words written upon it, silently reading to herself. The more she read, the more misty her eyes got. Finally she finished and folded the note up again, strictly following the previous folds the note already had. Skyrim was as harsh a land as one could be, and Galadriel was far from native to it. In fact, the chances of how she'd managed to end up here of all places in Tamriel might remain forever insane. Thus in this whirlwind of insanity, this single note was her most trusty anchor; a reminder of a home from another lifetime. One that brought her equal parts peace as it brought sorrow.
With another hefty sigh she wiped her eyes before tears could form in earnest. Then she placed her precious note back inside the nightstand drawer and took her soup back in hand. That was enough heavy emotions for one day; time to eat!
-Yes, I am in fact incorporating the Thieves Guild into my story! To those of you wondering if I'll do the same for the other Guilds? It ranges from probably to definitely not. Tbh out of all of them, this one I felt had a lot more going for it and a lot that came out of it in the end than the others did. Not to mention I am one of those few who is not a massive fan of Aela and the Companions, nor am I into the cultist nature of the Dark Brotherhood. There was just a lot more I could work with Thieves Guild, especially in conjunction with the main Dragonborn story. Speaking of which, next chapter will definitely be returning 'back to the regularly scheduled story'. Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought, and I'll see you next time!-
