The Girl Who Cried Thief

A Change of Pace

I sat down, nibbling on a fresh piece of bread and even fresher salmon steak, thinking of the words the voice had said. Having a Guild behind me provided more gain than loss--constant flow of gold, a way to get out of trouble, perhaps even someone to sell stolen wares to--but I couldn't help but remember the high price I'd paid for joining a Guild before, and it worried me. But I had to make a decision. And friends in a foreign land were much better than years in prison.

"I see you've come to your senses," the voice said.

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        I remembered the day vividly and with unease as I sat atop the Bee and Barb, debating with myself whether or not I actually wanted to meet Maven Black-Briar.

        The entering into the Guild part was easy: I handled a few people who owed us money, which resulted in me being a bit unwelcome in their places of business, but that was fair. And then there was the Goldenglow job afterwards--and that was just laughable. But now here I was, about to jump through one of the inn's upstairs windows, to meet a woman who probably didn't even care enough to know my name. 

        My feet padded softly as I landed on the wooden floor, careful not to disturb the large, Imperial man who was napping there with mead stains all on his clothing. I swiftly opened and closed the door, inspecting the dimly lit upstairs area.

        I sniffled and pouted; the room that I'd slept in comfortably just days before was now being rented to someone else, an Argonian woman who was yelling snobbishly at a little Redguard girl. "Voa! I said clean the dress, not turn it into a soggy disaster! It's a wonder you make do at all!" and she stormed from the room, leaving the girl she called Voa teetering on the edge of tears. I'd have to deal with that later.

"Asmiir, I presume?"

        I felt myself flinch slightly, but hopefully not enough to see. A woman sat in a chair to the left of me, arms folded across her noble clothes, dark hair tossled sassily behind her hear. I felt my eyebrow raise involuntarily. "Maven Black-Briar?" I asked, my dark, leather Guild armor scratching me uncomfortably. 

        She smiled, "In the flesh."
        "Your name carries quite a bit of weight in Riften," I sat down across from her in a little corner of the upstairs area. Our little corner was furnished with a little wooden table that held a lantern, and two wooden chairs that held us. Her eyelids narrowed, and she ground her teeth. "Of course. Nothing gets done in this city without my knowing of it. You'll do well to remember that next time you say something so stupid...che. What's your name again?" 

          I thought about rolling my eyes, but I instead chose to brush an invisible spec of dust from my leathers. "How about we skip the conversation?" I glared, throwing back my hood so that she could see my face. She seemed taken aback for a moment, and then she smiled. "I always heard that you Redguard women were a bit of a firebrand. It's about time Brynjolf send me someone with a business sense; I was beginning to think he was running some sort of beggars guild over there." there was a sound after that statement that could have been a laugh, or could have been an ugly scoff. I could differentiate. 

       "Your faith in the Guild is lacking, then," I smiled, cocking my head to the side. Accidentally, I overheard the Argonian woman from earlier curse at Voa, and a loud smack. My ears twitched, and my hand begged to hold my blade, but I shushed them and forced my smile to stay in place. 

        The rest of that conversation was a blur of Maven telling me tat she cared nothing for faith in anyone, and about the job she wanted me to take care of in Whiterun. I almost missed the name of the contact, and she seemed very fed up with me. "Just...get out of my sight." she waved me away with a sigh.