Disclaimer:Bethesda's game, I'm just messing about with it.

Rating:Rating changed to T because, for once, my writing did not turn to a darker road as the story progressed. Whether that's good or not, it's pretty tame, with just some brief adult situations, violence, and language.

Pairing:Slight F!Dragonborn/Brynjolf romance & tension; more of a precursor of things to come than anything else.

Note(s):This deviates almost entirely from the Thieves Guild playthrough, but still has plenty of thieving :) Cover picture is art by Brett Manning (brettisagirldotcom) Enjoy!

Work your fingers to the bone, building castles out of snow

I'm a nomad walking on, humming to the same old song

Lower-case society, tied to no community

A kingdom without a king, with no sense of belonging

-Marina and the Diamonds

"You're going to Riften?"

Kara looked up from her pack to the woman standing in the doorway. "Yeah. What's it to you?"

Lydia narrowed her eyes. Kara hadn't asked for a housecarl - or even worse, a nanny. "Why?"

"Why not?" Kara hefted up her pack, testing it for weight. She glanced around the small room, taking inventory in her head. The Bannered Mare would never miss her.

Lydia was still staring. "Because it's awful."

Kara threw the strap over her head, adjusting the buckle on her shoulder. Over that, she slung her bow. "Yeah, yeah, scum and villainy. I heard it the first time."

"And you're still going?"

"Looks like it!" She brushed past Lydia, and headed for the steps down.

"Wait!" Lydia followed, standing at the top of the stairs. She held the Axe of Whiterun. "What do I do with this?"

"Sell it!"

Lydia gasped from behind her, nearly falling down the stairs in her haste, still clutching the axe. "With all due respect, my Thane-"

Kara smirked, cutting through the common room, dodging noisy patrons with full tankards and empty pockets. "You know, whenever someone starts a sentence that way, what usually follows is the opposite of respectful. But don't let me interrupt you; please, go on."

"The axe of Whiterun - it's an honor - you can't just sell it to some swindling vendor like Belethor-"

"Hi," Kara said to the woman behind the bar as she leaned against it. She dug a few septims out of the pouch tied to her belt and laid them on the counter.

The woman looked confused, pausing in her vigorous scrubbing of the wooden surface. "You're not staying?"

Kara almost smiled. "Everybody sounds so surprised."

She turned away, not answering the woman more than that, but Lydia persisted, following after her. "That's because they are surprised. You can't just throw this away, it was given to you by our Jarl-"

Kara stopped in front of the door, looking back at Lydia, her grey eyes hard. "Your Jarl."

Lydia slumped for just a fraction of a second, staring at the woman she was sworn to serve all her life. Then she straightened, her mouth pulled taut in a line, brow furrowed.

Bowing her head, she said, "Yes, of course. Enjoy your trip, my Thane. I'll wait at Dragonsreach until you return."

"Right. If I'm not back after a week, come look for my body!"

Shoving open the door with one hand, Kara stepped out into the night. This time, Lydia didn't follow, and for the first time since coming to Skyrim, Kara was free.

"It's not like I wanted any of this," Kara said, shifting. The bench beneath her was uncomfortable, but she'd take it over a walk across Skyrim any day. "I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, y'know?"

The driver of the cart grunted. Kara took that as her sign to go on.

"I came here for one thing - one thing! - and then I got sucked up into all this dragon nonsense. Did you know they arrested me as soon as I crossed the border? They called me a Stormcloak. I don't even know what that is, or I didn't, anyway, until I met that Ralof fellow. Some help he turned out to be…"

Kara remembered the man who had saved her life, from the dragon at Helgen and the Imperials both. She'd been all too happy to trust him at the time, even going so far as to take him up on the offer of seeking shelter with his sister in Riverwood. But afterwards? It had been one sidetrack after another. His sister, Gerdur, wanted her to go to Whiterun, and that awful shopkeeper had his own favor to ask of her, sending her skulking through a barrow den with tricks and traps, enormous spiders and dead things. It was nothing she wasn't used to, given her past—minus enormous spiders and dead things—but when Ralof told her she ought to join the Stormcloaks, she drew the line.

"Join the Stormcloaks," Kara muttered, snorting. "Fight for Skyrim? I don't even know Skyrim!"

The driver didn't say anything. Kara went back to stargazing, laying on the bench with one arm behind her head. One simple journey with one objective was turning out to be a muddy, confusing mess. Okay, so maybe it wasn't that simple to trek across a country you hadn't seen since you were a child, but it wasn't like she was plotting to kill the Emperor or something. She was just trying to help.

She tried to think of what her uncle would say in her position. Something wise and wordy; that was always his way. But Father, what would he say? He was always coming up with sayings on the go, right when they needed it. It was a talent of his she'd always envied and often tried to imitate, to no avail.

One thing at a time, she thought. That's a good one.

Kara cleared her throat. "Uh, Bjorlam, was it? How many times have you been to Riften?"

"Plenty."

"What can you tell me about it?"

"Well, what do you wanna know?"

If it's such a terrible, filthy place…why would a young girl want to go there?

Someone nudged her. Kara made a muffled sound and rolled over.

"Oy. Get up, girl. We're outside Riften."

Kara opened her eyes, sitting up in the back of the wagon. It was just before dawn, the sky a slate-gray, the air chill. Dew sparkled on the autumn leaves of the trees lining the road stretching away from them, and mist hung low over the lake spanning the skyline to their right. Slowly, she climbed down, stretching her sore muscles and gritting her teeth. Her stomach grumbled as she draped her satchel over one shoulder.

She turned to Bjorlam. "You know where I can get a bite of food?"

"Try the Bee and Barb. And here." He handed her a brown bottle filled with liquid, stamped with a label that read Black-Briar. "Good luck, girl. You'll need it in there."

Kara held it up to the weak light, before smiling and sliding it into her bag. "Thanks. I could probably use it."

She watched him rumble and creak down the road, before looking up at the light blossoming in the eastern sky, at the birds flying overhead, calling back and forth to each other on the air currents. Nothing felt better than being outside. She skipped a little, before walking up the road towards the stone walls just past the stables. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of the forest and lake water, of horses and hay from the nearby stables. Distantly, she could almost smell bread baking, and if she was very quiet, she could already hear someone hard at work at a forge.

"Doesn't seem so bad," she murmured, adjusting her bag and climbing the hill.

Or, so she thought, until she reached the entrance and found the gates shut. She turned to the lone guard standing outside, frowning.

"Hey, what's—"

"Visitor's tax. Pay up."

Kara raised her eyebrows. "You're kidding me, right?"

"No. Any visitors to the city need to pay, or you can't go in."

Kara sighed. She had heard this kind of noise before. Remembering what had happened last time, she took a deep breath and smiled.

"Well, as I live and breathe: a shakedown! It's been a long time since I've been involved in one of these—"

The guard looked around. "Hey, keep your voice down, will you?"

She raised it instead, practically shouting. "I'm sorry, what's that? I can't hear you over the sound of this shakedown!"

"All right, I'll let you in! Gods, just be quiet."

She smiled sweetly. "Thank you."

He opened the doors with a key, muttering to himself all the while, before gesturing for her to head inside. She brushed him as she walked past, and came up with a coin pouch as she entered Riften for the first time. The doors closed behind her, and she snickered to herself, tossing the coin purse up in the air and catching it. That'll teach you.

She was just slipping her spoils into her bag when a rusty voice called out. "Hey! You!"

Kara turned and jumped, squeaking involuntarily. Leaning against the nearest building was a bulky man dressed all in steel armor. His dark hair was pulled back from his face, and his thick arms were crossed over his chest.

Oh, shit.

"Uh. Yeah?"

"I don't know you," the man answered, his voice deep and gravelly. "You in Riften looking for trouble?"

She frowned. "You know everybody here?"

"Everybody worth knowing. Now you got five seconds to tell me what you're doing here, or I'll pound your pretty little face in."

Kara grinned. "You think I'm pretty?"

"One."

"All right! Let's not be hasty. I'm, uh, looking for someone." She reached into her bag. He straightened, unfolding his arms, but she held out a hand. "Wait, I just…here." She pulled out a piece of parchment and approached, holding it up to show him. "This girl. You seen her?"

"Might have. Can't say for sure." The look on his face said otherwise.

Kara sighed, pulling out the coin purse she had just filched. She tossed it to him. "There. How about now?"

He opened it up and peered inside, shaking the bag. The coins jingled merrily. He stashed it on his belt, before stepping closer to inspect the portrait drawn on the parchment. He scowled, before nodding.

"Sure, yeah. Came through just a few days ago."

"Any idea where she is now?"

"No. Try the Bee and Barb. That's where the rest of the sods like you end up."

"Right. Well, uh, thanks."

She made a move to put the sketch back in her bag, but he grabbed her elbow, jerking her close. She made a strangled noise in the back of her throat as he loomed over her.

"Listen, the last thing the Black-Briars need around here is some troublemaker tryin' to steal a piece of the action."

"Um, okay—"

"They have Riften in their pocket and the Thieves Guild watchin' their backs, so keep your nose out of their business. Understood?"

Kara nodded.

"The name's Maul. I watch the streets for 'em." He glanced over her shoulder, at the bow strapped to her back. "Don't care if you know how to use that; you step out of line against Maven, I take you down. Get it?"

She nodded again, and he let her go. She stumbled back, before shooting him a glare. He flashed her a quick, menacing smile. Creep.

"If you need dirt on anythin', I'm your guy. If not, steer clear."

Dirt, huh? Kara tossed back her unruly hair, before extending her arm in front of her and pulling up her sleeve. She watched his gaze focus in on the mark on her forearm, just below her elbow. "I'm not exactly clean myself."

"We're speakin' the same language, then." He jerked his head. "Go on, get out of here before someone sees me talking to you and starts asking questions. The last thing you need is the Black-Briars in your business."

"Hang on – you mentioned the Thieves Guild. They hole up here?"

Maul snorted. "You're kidding, right? My brother Dirge works in their hideout. Used to run with them myself, but took a job with Maven after they started hittin' a rough patch. You want in or something?"

Kara shook her head fervently, letting her sleeve fall back down. "No."

He cocked an eyebrow. "That scar on your arm says differently."

"Yeah, well, I say no. I'm just looking for someone."

"Right. If you change your mind, find Brynjolf in the marketplace. Might be he could use someone like you."

"He'll have to do without, but thanks anyway."

Shoving the sketch back in her bag, Kara hurried off down the street, until she was sure he'd lost interest. She tested her arm to make sure he hadn't done any lasting damage, before stooping down low and picking up a piece of broken stone from the ground. She turned and threw it as hard as she could. It clanked off his armor-clad back, and when he glanced back at her over his shoulder, she took several large steps backward. He just shook his head, before facing the north gate once more. She stuck her tongue out and continued down the street.

For the next hour, Kara wandered, easily finding the Bee and Barb and several other establishments, including the marketplace. She climbed up on top of the well in the middle of the square and stood, spinning slowly, surveying the city as the sun rose. Riften didn't look like much, with its leaning, ramshackle buildings and the smell of fish lingering in the air, but the breeze was cool, and Kara could hear the waters of the canal gurgling below on its way to Lake Honrich. All in all, not too terrible, but she wasn't there for the sights. She let her hand drop to her satchel, running her hand over the leather. The breeze stirred the ends of her wild black curls, and she stared out over the mostly empty, sleeping city. Where are you? She whistled once like a bird, the way they used to, but there was no reply.

Kara took a deep breath. One thing at a time.

The Bee and Barb was empty, save for an Argonian woman behind the bar. Weaving through the three tables, Kara put on her best "I am a nice, not crazy person" face and tried to sit on one of the stools at the bar. It was harder than it looked with the bow on, and even with some maneuvering, she still slid off twice. When she finally figured it out, the woman was staring at her with an undisguised look of bewilderment.

So much for not being crazy. "Uh, sorry about that. Longbows, you know? What can you do?" Kara shrugged and laughed. The woman laughed too, but unsurely, as if she was wondering if she should call for the guard. Kara cleared her throat. "Anyway, uh, I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me."

The woman eyed her suspiciously. "Not many ask questions in Riften."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that. Not quite the popular business, huh? But I swear, I'm not trying to infiltrate the Thieves Guild or get secrets out or anything. I'm just looking for someone."

The Argonian seemed to relax a bit. "All right, maybe I can help." When Kara showed her the sketch, she nodded. "Right, I've seen her. Young. Couldn't have been more than eighteen."

Kara nodded, her heart pounding. "She came in here?"

"Yep. Few days ago. It was raining, and she was soaked to the skin. Didn't have a septim on her but I felt bad. She was just a kid, you know? So I let her stay for the night. Went up to offer her breakfast the next morning, but she was already gone."

Damn. "Any idea where she might have gone?"

She shook her head. "No, sorry. I didn't get to talk to her much. She was dead tired when she came in, and after I told her she could stay, she went straight to bed. Well, almost…"

"Almost?"

"Yes, I remember now. Before she went upstairs, she ate. I thought she could use a hot meal, so I gave her some stew and bread. She sat down at one of the tables, and I remember Mjoll and Aerin sat with her, talked to her for a bit."

"Mjoll and Aerin. Okay, anyone else?"

"Hmm." The woman tapped her chin with one long-nailed finger. "Come to think of it, yes, on her way up the stairs, Sapphire stopped her. Don't know what was said, but it was brief. After that, it was candles out. Like I said, she was really tired. Poor thing must have walked from wherever she came from."

"Yeah, she probably did." Kara could picture her plodding onward, one foot in front of the other, teeth chattering in a fierce downpour. She clenched her fist against her thigh, before mustering a smile and shoving the sketch back in her bag. "Thank you very much."

"Can I ask why you're looking for her?"

"She's family. A runaway. I just want to bring her home."

"What could a young girl like that be running from?"

Good question. That was the biggest mystery Kara had yet to solve, but there would be time for that later. She reached into her coin purse and pulled out a handful of septims.

"Can I get a room?"

"Sure, it's yours for the day. My name's Keerava, by the way. Anything you need, let me know. If you have any more questions, my partner Talen-Jei will be up soon. He might know something."

"Thanks, but I think for now, I'm going to hit the hay. Was up almost all night on the way from Whiterun."

"That's quite the journey. I'll make sure no one disturbs you."

"Thanks." Kara managed to wrangle herself off the stool and head for the stairs. Before she climbed, she turned back. "And Keerava?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you, for taking care of her."

Keerava nodded, wiping down the counter. "'Course. Someone's got to be decent around here."

Kara didn't reply.

When she had settled in her room, she crawled beneath the thin blankets, thinking about everything that had happened in the last week. It still felt like a dream, standing before Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun, shooting a dragon between the eyes with her bow. How did I get here? And there was that word, and the great shouting from the mountain. "Dragonborn." The word tasted strange on her tongue, but it reminded her of a rare time in her childhood, when her father was actually home, and telling her tales every night before he tucked her into bed.

One night, he'd told her a story of Talos, the mighty warrior who Ascended to godhood beside the Eight Divines. He told her of the immense honor bestowed upon him, the blessing of the Dragon God Akatosh, the gift of his blood. "He was Dragonborn," her father said. "He possessed the blood and soul of a dragon, but the body of a man."

When she'd asked him what that meant, all he would tell her was a poem, a riddle.

When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world

When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped

When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles

When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne and the White Tower falls

When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding

The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn

She'd never understood it, and still didn't. To her, they were just tales. To everyone they were just tales, but the difference was now everyone else was starting to believe them, whispers flowing like wind across Skyrim. And even though there had been that shouting from the mountain, swirling around Kara as she stood over the corpse of a very real dragon, the ground shaking beneath her feet, she still couldn't believe it.

These are Nord stories, she reasoned, shutting her eyes and rolling over. How can they be about me when I'm half Imperial?