Moonlight's Embrace (A Skyrim Fanfic) (ORIGINAL)

The Sweep Job

((13th of Second Seed, 4E 202))

My orders were clear. With the tip from Brynjolf, I was directed to an easy escape from the cistern. "Go up the ladder," he'd said. "There's a pull-chain up above that'll open a trapdoor."

It didn't take long to prepare myself. The disdainful stares from the others only served to push me onward, a challenge to excel and to crush their doubts.

My fingers curled around the splintered wooden ladder, but I didn't get a chance to climb up. I paused before climbing up, pounding footsteps heading my way. My sword was instantly drawn, but also knocked away in the same second. Something rough-- an arm, my mind whispered-- was positioned against my throat for the second time since entering through the Flagon. The force threw me against the wall, and my attacker gripped my chin tightly. Sharp nails curved into the skin. Somewhere, my mind wondered: Why in Oblivion is everyone trying to kill me?!

"You little bitch," the foe snarled viciously, slamming my skull against the rough bricks again. My vision swam, leaving me unable to focus. The voice was vaguely familiar, but through my dazed state, I couldn't place a face. I scratched at their forearm, trying to escape the grip. Despite my attempts, they held fast. "Don't try it, whelp." I took the chance to gather a mouthful of saliva and hurled it at them. 

My gamble proved successful as they grunted and released my throat, giving me a chance to take a deep breath and hurl them backwards. "Fus Ro!" I still couldn't see correctly, and a horrible headache was on its way. The pain didn't stop me from recognizing the person on her knees in front of me.

"Why the hell are you here, Sapphire?" I hissed, touching my throat. It would undoubtedly bruise and hurt like hell for a few days. That in addition to the previous battering from Mercer wasn't going to be a picnic. Regardless, it wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. I'd suffered worse in training.

"Kicking your ass!" Sapphire lunged towards me once more, and I prepared to burn her to a crisp. I hadn't trained with the Greybeards any more than a day or two, but I could still use the Thu'um to my advantage.

I never sent the Yol her way. Someone behind the irate woman had wrapped an arm around her waist, a Wood Elf whose name I had yet to learn. "Let me go, Niruin!" she demanded, not bothering to hide her hatred. "That-- that whore--"

"Did what?" I challenged, squinting as my eyes cleared.

"Your little stunt at the bar? I lost respect. Lost a client!" I pressed my lips together, trying not to respond in an equally violent way. Niruin seemed to have a difficult time restraining her the longer the banter lasted.

"That's not my problem, Sapphire." She shook off the Bosmer but made no further move to attack me.

Slowly, a half-smirk, half-snarl made its way onto her face. "Like hell it isn't. You're a part of the Guild now? Brynjolf has been known to pick random hussies off the street and throw them into the thick of things." My nostrils flared at the harsh insult, and I noticed even Brynjolf bristling slightly off to the side. "But you cost the Thieves Guild, you rat!"

"My name is Russet," I said slowly, trying to keep myself under control.

"I don't give a damn. You--"

"That's enough!" The angry words echoed around the cistern. "Russet, what do you think you're doing?!"

Brynjolf's eyes widened. "Mercer," he greeted, taking a step away from the Guild Master. I tried explaining what had happened-- even though I didn't entirely understand it myself-- but the stubborn man refused to listen.

"Don't try to put this on Sapphire! Why, you little-- you're out, witch. Out of here, out of the Guild!" His authority in the Thieves Guild meant that his commands were to be obeyed. Unfortunately for him, the only person I respected enough to listen to was Kodlak Whitemane. Mercer was a prick, and I wasn't going to let him lord over me.