Claimed: A Thieves Guild Fanfiction [Revised&Edited]

Chapter 9

  Arsha's eyes did not close immediately after she had slipped into her bedroll. For awhile she lay awake, thinking of the strange duel that Mercer had demanded of her and what would have happened if she had lost. The idea of being forced from the Guild because of a grudge that Mercer held still frightened her, but with Brynjolf's explanation she found it didn't bother her as much as it had earlier.

If Brynjolf was correct in his thinking, Mercer was just trying to put on a strong front for the sake of the Guild. She still wished that he could have found some other way to do it, but she understood where he was coming from. He had tried to use the newcomer as proof that the old Guild was still strong. If he had beaten her, that was the message that he would have believed he had sent.

The rest of the Guild didn't see it like that, she knew. She could see it in their eyes when they spoke to her of the glory days of the Guild. They thought that the old Guild was dead and gone, but a few of them had hope that a new Guild could rise. Arsha sincerely hoped that it would and that she would somehow help make that happen.

She woke the next morning as the sun was just beginning to rise. The morning was cool and everything was damp with dew. Brynjolf was still asleep in his tent next to hers, so she went about making a breakfast for the both of them. It was an odd feeling, cooking for two people. It had been a very long time since anyone had travelled with her. If she had had her way, she would be alone right now. In fact she would probably be in Whiterun by now, having rode through the night. But she wasn't alone and she wasn't in Whiterun, and for some reason, she was okay with that.

Before very long she had their food ready. The smell had awoken Brynjolf who was now sitting across from her, a little bleary-eyed. Apparently the second-in-command was not a morning person. They ate, saying nothing as Brynjolf was still trying to wake up.

When they finished, they unpacked the camp and loaded their few items onto the horses before jumping on themselves. Then they were back on the road to Whiterun. Arsha figured that the trip today wouldn't take more than a few hours. In fact, if everything went smoothly, they could finish the job for Maven and begin to head back to Riften today. With that thought in mind, she spurred her horse into a faster trot.

The conversation between her and Brynjolf was sparse, but she enjoyed it. His little offhand comments and sarcastic humor made her laugh to herself. Nevertheless, she answered any questions about her past carefully. She didn't want to give away too much information, but she found it hard to refuse to answer his questions. Instead she answered his questions in short sentences and with as little information as she could. Brynjolf didn't seem frustrated though. In fact he seemed a little excited. She had seen looks like that before. He was determined to figure her out. Arsha laughed to herself and silently wished him good luck. Her secrets were buried deep.

They made it to the gates of Whiterun about three hours later. It was only nine o'clock, so the market was just beginning to really come alive. Arsha saw her mark for the fishing job that Delvin had given her and within a few seconds she had a flawless ruby and Nazeem did not. Brynjolf also slipped away, undoubtedly to do his own set of jobs from Delvin and Vex. They met back up outside of the Bannered Mare where Maven's contact, someone named Mallus, was supposed to be.

The conversation with Mallus was fairly short and straightforward. She and Brynjolf had to talk to the owner of the Meadery and convince him to let them use poison to get rid of a skeever infestation. Except they would be putting the poison in the mead vats so that when the commander of the Whiterun guard came to sample some mead, he would decide that the mead was contaminated and shut down Honningbrew.

Arsha thought briefly about how she would have solved a problem like this back when she was still a much darker person. She decided that this way was better. Sabjorn would end up in jail for quite some time, but it was better than being dead. Brynjolf shook her out of that train of thought when he stood from his seat across from Mallus and headed for the door of the inn. Arsha followed him, and soon they were back out in the sunlight of the day.