Claimed: A Thieves Guild Fanfiction [Revised&Edited]

Chapter 5

  Arsha crept around the walls that surrounded Goldenglow Estate. So far no one had seen her, but she knew that it wouldn't last. She neared the beehives, fire flickering in her gloved hands. She sent a bolt of fire into one of the hives. Soon she had set three of them alight.

The smoke rose into the air and frenzied shouts began to sound. The mercenaries that Aringoth had hired were running toward the flaming hives. Good.

As she snuck toward the house, Arsha met very little resistance. Apparently, the beehives had sent almost everyone running. Those that hadn't gone to the hives stood around the doors of Goldenglow. The two guarding the door closest to her fell, clutching arrows in their throats.

Arsha entered the house cautiously. She knew the safe was in the basement, but it was most likely locked. If she could find Aringoth and make him give her the key it would save time.

She snuck through the house slaying all of the guards. When she reached the top level a group of three mercenaries gave her a bit of trouble. One managed to cut her right arm pretty badly. Arsha hissed in pain and stabbed the offending nord in the stomach before slitting his throat. His two companions died quickly.

Once she had healed her arm, Arsha continued on making her way towards Aringoth's room. The mercenaries outside of the door fell quickly and she snuck in. Aringoth was hiding in a corner, cowering.

Arsha snuck towards him carefully. Eventually, she was close enough to steal the key he kept in his pocket along with a few other valuables. She had had almost made it out of the room when something caught her eye. She snatched the bee statue. Maybe Delvin would like it.

Arsha made her way down to the basement where the safe was kept. A few more mercenaries tried to stop her. They died.

She reached the safe and emptied it of its contents. She cursed softly when she found a paper saying that Aringoth had sold Goldenglow. This was not good. She used the sewer passage that Vex had mentioned to escape the house unnoticed.

Before long she was outside. One of the few mercenaries left saw her and tried to shoot her. His comrades ran toward her, but Arsha merely cast a breathe water spell and dove into the lake. Eventually, she resurfaced near the city walls.

A few minutes later she was descending the ladder in the Cistern. Mercer was leaning on his desk studying something. Arsha marched over and placed the paper in front of him. Mercer looked up, annoyed. "What do you want?"

"Aringoth sold Goldenglow." Arsha would have laughed at the look on Mercer's face if she knew she wouldn't be killed for it.

Mercer was about to speak when another voice said, "Stupid elf. He should know better than to cut Maven out of a deal. Any clue as to who the buyer is, lass?"

Arsha turned to Brynjolf. "Only this symbol," she said pointing at the paper. "Ever seen it before?"

Brynjolf studied the strange image before sighing, "No, but I'm sure we can find someone who has."

Arsha nodded and headed for the Flagon. She heard Brynjolf say something to Mercer before following her.

"Where are you going, lass?" he inquired when he caught up to her.

Arsha shrugged. "I don't know. I might see if Delvin has any good jobs for me."

"You just got back, lass! At least wait until tomorrow."

Arsha was about to decline when Brynjolf added, "Besides, its Midsummer's Eve. Vekel is throwing a party. You don't want to miss one of Vekel's parties!"

Arsha rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll stay." Brynjolf grinned and led the way to the Flagon.

They sat down at the bar and Brynjolf looked at her expectantly. Arsha rolled her eyes again and ordered a mead. Brynjolf's eyes widened. Arsha laughed. "Don't get your hopes up, Bryn."

She held out her hands and they glowed with a purplish light. She cast the spell and reached up to her hood. She pulled it down and Brynjolf's eyes widened.

"It's a spell of illusion," she said in response to his confused look. "It makes it seem like I still have my hood and mask on." She pulled her mask off as she spoke and laid it on the counter.

"How do you keep it going?" Brynjolf asked.

"The illusion is built into the armor. Once I trigger it the spell slowly drains my magicka but my magicka regenerates fast enough to cancel out the effects of the spell. Basically, I could run the spell forever." She took a long drink from the mead savoring the taste.

"What would happen if you got knocked out?"

"If I was somehow cut off from my magicka supply in any way the spell would feed off of any soul gems in the area and then the armor itself. The energy from the armor alone could feed the spell for weeks."

"There goes that idea," Brynjolf said grinning. Arsha laughed and took a large swallow of the mead. "Maybe I can get you to dispel that illusion eventually."

Arsha laughed again. "You can try, Bryn, but I'll never get that drunk."

"That sounds like a challenge, lass," Brynjolf said grinning. He ordered her another mead causing Arsha to grin and finish her bottle.

Quite a few drinks and hours later, the party was in full swing. Different Guild members took turns telling stories and singing songs. For awhile Arsha listened to the different member's tales. Some were bold and cocky, others were somewhat timid, but always witty. A few of the stories she could tell were outright lies, others may have been true, but she couldn't really tell.

She loved that about the Guild. Liars and thieves were who they were. They would lie to their Guild Members just as quickly as they would to a guard. Yet these lies were different. They were told with love. Love for the trick and love for the people they told them to. It was a strange kind of love, but it was love nonetheless.

Eventually, Brynjolf became too drunk to have a steady conversation with, although Arsha was impressed with the number of drinks he managed to put back before that happened. Many others around the Flagon were the same way. They were stumbling around and generally acting quite drunk. It was an interesting sight.

After about an hour of watching the people around her get more and more drunk, she decided to head to bed. The mead wasn't affecting her much, but she was tired enough that she figured she should crash in the bunk that Brynjolf had offered her. The Cistern was empty. Mercer wasn't at his desk and Arsha hadn't seen him at the party, but she was too tired to think about it much. She made it to her bed and collapsed, as soon as she had hidden a dagger under her pillow. One could never be too careful.

Arsha awoke with a start to feel someone's hands on her hood. She whipped her dagger out from under her pillow and placed it under the person's neck in an instant. They froze, hands still clutching her hood.

"Let. Go," Arsha growled at them menacingly. The person appeared to be Thrynn, the former bandit.

"I don't thinksh sho," Thrynn spoke with the slur of someone too drunk to know what they were doing. That didn't change Arsha's threat. "I'sh been dared to take off that mashk of yoursh, and thash wha' I'm gonna do." Arsha realized that there were likely other Guild Members nearby, watching, but she didn't really care. No one touched her hood and mask.

"Let go. Right now," she told him again, more forcefully this time. Her blade pushed a little harder into his throat drawing a small amount of blood.

"Nosh!" he slurred drunkenly.

"I said, let go!" she was about to push even harder on her dagger when someone grabbed her hand. She thought about yanking her arm away, but for some reason, she didn't.

Instead, she turned her head to see Brynjolf standing there, his green eyes bright and alert and not drunken looking at all. "Lass..." he warned and she dropped her arm to her side. Thrynn let go of her hood at the same time.

She reached up with her free hand to make sure her hood and mask were in place before twisting out of Brynjolf's grip. She sheathed her dagger in one graceful movement before turning swiftly away and striding toward the ladder that led out of the Cistern and into Riften. She was gone in an instant.