Morning Star

It was dusk when Kara arrived at Riften's North Gate, the sun descending over distant mountains in a blaze of fire.

She nudged her horse into the stables, untying the large rucksack from the saddle, slinging it over her back. She carried her bow and quiver in her hands, digging around in one of her pockets for the modest lodging fee, dumping several septims in the hands of a Redguard.

"Hey, I remember you," he said, blinking at the coins before looking up at her. "You're the dragonslayer, the one who helped me out of trouble with Sapphire."

"Yeah, Shadr, right? I remember." My, how time flies. "She still giving you trouble?"

He shook his head, smiling. "You're a godsend."

"That's what they say!" She clapped him on the shoulder, before ducking out of the stables. She popped back for a second, poking her head in. "Oh, and Shadr? Happy New Life."

"And you as well!"

Kara smiled.

Twilight settled over Riften as she walked the familiar streets, remembering her escapades now four months past. It seemed so long ago and yet, at the same time, like only yesterday that she too was walking the planks of weatherworn bridges and looking up at the majestic spires of Mistveil Keep.

People were everywhere, doors flung wide open, the promise of free ale from every tavern in Tamriel for the holiday drawing them from their homes with cheer. She looked around as she moved among them, a spectator, a shadow, eyeing the city she'd left behind. The wreckage she'd left in her wake - crumbled stairs and walls - had been fixed. Even the roof of the Bee and Barb had been repaired, along with the rest of it, looking far less shabby than it had in Last Seed. All that remained in disarray was the well, still missing its latticed walls and carved roof. She wondered if she should flip a septim in. She wondered if the Thieves Guild would find it.

Pushing through the crowd, she entered the Bee and Barb's crowded common room. Keerava, the proprietor, was still hard at work behind the bar where Kara had left her. Kara was disappointed, as it was clear that a lovely gold and amethyst ring was not adorning one of her fingers.

"Well, are you having fun or what?" Kara asked, grinning.

Keerava slowly turned, squinting. "Is that-? It is you!" She threw down her rag, running around the bar, pulling Kara into a tight hug. Kara gasped, eyes watering, as several of the homemade arrows sticking out of her quiver jabbed straight into her chest, crushed between them.

"It's good to see you, too," she managed.

Keerava released her, and Kara rubbed at the spot on her ribs. "I'm so happy you're back! Wait until Talen hears. What you did for us… You really are an extraordinary girl, Kara. We wanted to wait actually, to get married, but I think the real reason both of us kept pushing it back was because we were hoping you'd return." She smiled.

"Well, where's the ring, then? I'd like to see it!"

"Oh, I don't want to ruin it! But it's here." She reached into the neckline of her dress, pulling out the leather throng around her neck. The ring was strung on it, shining and beautiful, just as Kara had known it would be.

"Now that you've returned, we'll do it! We want you there. You've given us so much, it's only right."

"Flatterer. But yes, I would be honored. On one condition."

Keerava nodded. "Yes, anything!"

"Give me my old room back? Something a little more permanent, if that's all right with you."

"You're…living here?" Keerava's eyes looked ready to fall out of her head.

Kara nodded. "Just until I can afford a place of my own. Until then, I need somewhere to go, and I'd prefer…" She thought of the Thieves Guild, of their home in their sewers, all the walls and low-hanging ceilings of dank stone. She suppressed a shiver. "Well, if I could sleep out under the stars, I would, but a girl needs a roof every now and again."

"Of course! I'll tell you what: Talen and I were just thinking about doing some more renovating with what's left of the money you gave us. We could knock out a wall, give you two rooms - after all, we have plenty others - so you could have your own wash area, and you wouldn't have to share with the other guests."

"That sounds absolutely delightful. And I'm all too happy to lay down the first three months' payment."

Keerava's eyes widened even more, if that was possible. "Oh, you know I can't have you pay! Not after what you've given us."

"I'm not going to rob you of two rooms." Kara narrowed her eyes. "I will pay you, Keerava, if I have to hide the septims where I know you'll find them."

Keerava waved her hands at Kara in a dismissive gesture, smiling. "Well, how about you go up there, settle in, have a drink, celebrate New Life, and we'll talk about all of this tomorrow?"

"You know, I did ride for quite a while. That sounds like a great idea." Kara hugged Keerava once more, shuffling past a group of cackling Nords, and up the stairs.

The room was empty, everything the way Kara had left it. She wondered who had stayed there in her absence, what had gone on inside. Doesn't matter, it's mine now. She set her rucksack down, storing her bow and quiver beneath the bed, like she used to. Making sure she had her dagger at her back, she reached up to touch one of the braids in her hair, before leaving the room.

There's someone I need to find.

Kara got a free bottle of Black-Briar mead from Keerava on her way out the door, and she merged with the crowd, surveying the night. The moon was rising, the stars alive. It was cold, but nobody seemed to notice, bolstered by furs like the ones Kara wore, and the warmth of honeyed alcohol swimming through their blood. Everyone was talking and laughing, and somewhere, some reedy pipes were playing, someone beating on a drum. The marketplace was hung with streamers in shades of purple and gold, braziers blazing at four points around the square. Balimund, the blacksmith, was doing something fancy with his forge, while a crowd of people looked on. Kara saw Leonara and Addvild, two farmers she knew, hocking goods like roasted corn and hot stew served in bowls made of bread. She bought one of their boiled crème treats, sinking her teeth into the confection with a fierce pleasure.

It was a good night to be back.

She saw several familiar figures clad in leather near the edge of the market, where groups hung back in the shadows, on the fringe. She was almost surprised they had surfaced before she reminded herself: New Life, free ale. Of course they'd come out for such a sweet deal as that. There was a loud laugh, and she smiled, handing off her drink to someone with an empty hand, moving around to the outskirts.

"So she says, 'That ain't mine, that's my husband's!'" There was a raucous chorus of laughter. It was the perfect distraction.

Her hands were quick, fingers nimble, and this time when she cut the purse strings, there was no cousin to run into her and bump her from behind. She grinned fiercely to herself, before edging back around and standing up, entering the light where they could see her.

There were five of them: Vekel and Tonilia, arms wrapped loosely around each other's waists; Delvin leaning against the wooden railing surrounding the walkway; Vex sitting beside him on a barrel, kicking her legs and drinking from a flask; and Brynjolf, taller than all of them, red hair shining in the faint light, green eyes sparkling, arms folded over his chest as he surveyed the crowd beyond.

"Good one Delvin," she said, nodding at the Breton. "Really hilarious. But you know what's even funnier?" She shook the coin purse, the septims rattling around inside. "How much do you think is in there? Enough for Brynjolf to pay me back for his theft of my purse four months ago?"

Delvin stared at her, open-mouthed. Everyone else looked surprised, even Vex, who had brought the flask to her mouth, but had yet to take a drink.

Suddenly, Delvin laughed. "I imagine there is. You sure know how to make an entrance, Kara." To Vex, he grinned and said, "You owe me twenty septims."

"I dunno, I think it's quite dull compared to last time. Could always try and rustle up a dragon, though, for a laugh!"

Everyone laughed but Vex and Brynjolf. The former took her drink, swallowing hard and eyeing Kara indifferently. "So? What's wrong now?"

"Besides losing you a bet, what do you mean?"

"Your cousin's lost again, right? You need our help to fish you out of some hole?"

"Vex," Delvin scolded, elbowing her in the head. "Who says she needs our help? Maybe she just missed us."

"Yes, I was under the impression you weren't returning," Brynjolf said, glancing at Kara evenly. "Why are you here?"

"I…I've spent a lot of time thinking, and I decided I liked it here."

Vex snorted. "Nobody likes it here, princess. But we do what we can to survive."

"Yeah, well so do I." Kara turned her gaze on the Imperial woman. "That's why I came back."

Delvin folded his arms across his chest. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, I uh… I did some thinking - soul-searching, whatever you want to call it - and I realized that the only thing I really know how to do well is steal. And I figure if that's true, there's a place for me here."

Vex cocked an eyebrow. "What if we don't want you?"

Delvin elbowed her again. "All right, that's enough. Everyone here knows Mercer offered her a place if she ever showed her face again."

"I'm just making sure she's really going to do this," Vex snapped, capping her flask. "And hey-" She leaned over and punched him in the groin. He groaned and toppled, falling over in front of Tonilia and Vekel. They just watched him writhe, their expressions amused.

When Vex straightened, she was grinning. "Welcome back."

And just like that, Kara had a job and a place to stay. If she had known it would be that easy, maybe she would've skipped joining up with her dad and just gone to Skyrim. Still, as she was learning, it was her experiences that had gotten her to where she was, her experiences that made her the person she was today. And if that person just happens to be a thief, so be it.

The music kicked up, something fun, and there was a lot of clapping. Kara turned her head, watching as people began dancing in a circle around the well. The streamers rippled in a breeze. Someone grabbed her elbow, pulling slightly. "C'mon," the low voice said and she followed, out into the darkness.

They walked slowly, the music fading by the time they reached the Shrine of Talos, where they'd had their first real conversation together. The moon lit their path, but Kara walked close enough to feel him, just in case. Neither of them said anything, until he stopped at the gate surrounding the graveyard.

"How's your family? You didn't really say much in the, hm, let's think, zero letters you sent."

Kara grinned, placing her hand flat against her chest. "My dear friend, are you offended?"

"Just expected you to update us on the situation we all got so invested in, is all."

Kara's smile faded. They all had been very invested, laying their own lives down for her and Eiri. She bet if she reached up and touched his neck, he would still have the scar from the vampire incident. She owed him, for a lot of things.

"I'm sorry, I got caught up in being back at home."

"So? How was it?"

"My Uncle Harald is alive, and quite healthy. So far, there have been no repercussions, other than Eiri having to make up for quite a lot of missed studies. Things have been going well for them, and I was sad to say goodbye, but it was necessary. They'll do all right without me. I, uh, didn't tell them, but I left them quite a lot of money after doing some freelance thieving in Bruma and Cheydinhal. It should make its way to them any day now." Her grin widened. "I sent it to them in a letter of inheritance from an old friend I pretended they know."

"Clever. Think they'll take it?"

Kara nodded. "They will if they think a dead person sent it."

"And Eiri's well?"

"Yes, she's been enjoying her lessons once more. I just received a letter from her, and she says she's recently been given some time away from the college to visit for the holidays. It's good that they can see her. When we got back, she was in quite a lot of trouble, but her parents were just so happy she was alive, they weren't too hard on her. I gave her a stern talk about her daedra-loving friend, though." Kara looked down at the scar still burned into her palm. Two of a kind, we are.

"And?"

"I don't think she listened."

Brynjolf frowned. "Wait. She told you in a letter? But I thought you just arrived today."

"Well, I arrived in Riften today. I, um… I've actually been in Skyrim for months."

"Months," Brynjolf repeated.

"Three, in fact." She looked up, meeting his gaze. "I've been on High Hrothgar, studying under the tutelage of the Greybeards."

He was silent for a long moment. "What made you change your mind?"

Kara shrugged. "A few things. Don't get me wrong, I still like stealing and I love money, but… I dunno, I suppose I grew up a bit. Mostly, it was the people here. Look out over this city, at how they're celebrating a new year, celebrating life. There's so much here worth fighting for, in the cities, in the wilds, in the people - and not just in Skyrim, but in Tamriel as well. Maybe it's time someone actually does it. And if that's me, well… I'll try as hard as I can."

Brynjolf smiled. "You've changed, lass. You have grown up."

"Yeah. A stupid little girl told me once, 'Sacrifice is the greatest gift.' I'm testing her theory."

"And how's it going?"

Kara smirked. "I'll get back to you on that."

Brynjolf let out a noisy breath. "I'm surprised. Didn't expect you back, if I'm being honest here, lass."

"Like I could resist," she said. "But honestly, neither did I. Like I said, I'm testing some theories, one of which involves me joining the Thieves Guild."

"You're the Dragonborn, starting to embrace your power, and you want to run with us. How does that make sense?"

"Maybe it doesn't. Maybe it doesn't have to. But I do know that you have resources unavailable to many others that might be more…conservative with the law."

"Uh-huh. What else is there?"

She shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I may or may not have something to do for the Greybeards. A quest, if you'd like. It's classified, so don't even ask. Important Dragonborn business."

"So there was something you needed."

"Not from you necessarily, but from me, once I'm a member of the guild."

Brynjolf laughed. "And here I thought you came back for your esteemed friends and acquaintances. Turns out you're just using us for our resources."

"It doesn't hurt that I like relieving honest citizens of their shiny things."

"No, lass, it does not." Brynjolf sighed slightly. "It is good to have you back, Kara. You got a place to stay?"

Kara nodded. "Above ground, thankfully. I'll be right as Rain's Hand by tomorrow."

"Good to know. Mercer will want to see you."

"I'm sure he will." She frowned slightly, looking over at him. "By the way, I was wondering this: Whatever happened to Clavicus Vile's mask?"

"Oh! Right, that. It upped and vanished one night about a month ago. Next morning, it was gone. We've never been able to find it."

"Hm. Doesn't sound good."

"No, but like you said, no repercussions so far. Maybe Vile just wants us to leave him alone."

"Better hope that's the case." I'd hate for Eiri to find out.

There was a pause filled with distant cheering from the market. A breeze blew past, stirring the ribbons she'd woven into her braids.

Brynjolf reached for one, running his fingers over it, tugging lightly. "These are nice."

"Thanks. Figured I might do a little something nice for my birthday."

Brynjolf looked surprised for all of one second, before grinning. "Well, well. Today's your birthday. That seems right." He eyed her up and down. "You look different."

"I feel different." It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Suddenly, plumes of light shot up from the market, streaking high, before there was an explosion, a chorus of pops, as half a dozen fireworks burst in the sky, purple stars and gold sparkles raining from the heavens. The crowd cheered and clapping, shouting for more. Kara gazed in wonder. Guess we know what Balimund was doing.

She and Brynjolf fell into a comfortable silence, staring up into the sky as more and more fireworks appeared, silver and gold, blue and green, red and purple. There were even several made to look like the constellations, and one of Talos himself wielding a mighty sword. Kara smiled.

"Brynjolf?"

"Kara."

She reached for his hand, weaving her fingers with his. "Happy New Life."

"That it is, lass. That it is."

It was dark. The moon wasn't high enough to filter light in through the barred window, and it was dark, it was cold. Rats scuttled around the edges of the cell. He could hear their whiskers scraping against the stone walls as they searched for some tiny morsel, something left from the scant meals he devoured. He grinned savagely. They would find nothing.

From somewhere down the corridor, two guards were snickering, telling a story. "...told the wretch that if he even looked at me wrong, I'd stick 'im in the belly. Well, sure 'nuff, he decided to make a run at me. Was only right, what I did. Self-defense and all."

"Yeah, but didn't you whack him in the back of the legs with the flat of your blade?"

"Only to get 'im moving faster."

"Well, that's not self-defense then."

"Eh, the warden don't care. What's one less prisoner, aye? Besides, I never liked the look of him. Sneaky sort. No wonder 'e got branded."

The man in the cell looked down at his own brand, still raised and puffy, still a reminder of the hell he'd created for himself. His fingers clenched reflexively, as the guards laughed some more, before walking towards his cell.

They'd killed Jona that morning. He had seen it all, had seen the guard hitting Jona's legs, which were already sore from working in the mines he'd been assigned to for mouthing off to the warden. Jona had been a patient man, a peaceful one, but after so much time away from his family, after so many days and nights laboring in the mines, there was only so much he could take. He snapped and now, he was dead.

One of the guards had been a Nord, just like him.

That was all it took for the man in the cell to set his plan, three years in the making, into motion. He would mourn for Jona later, when he was finally free, and he could bring the news back to Jona's family.

He waited until the voices of the guards faded and the door shut, before he sat and meditated at the back of his cell, as he often did. The stone wall was cold, seeping through the thin material of his tunic. He closed his eyes, praying to Nocturnal for guidance and Talos for strength - if Talos didn't mind consorting with thieves.

When he was certain everyone was asleep, despite the moaning and mumbling down the cell block, he crawled over to the corner he had dutifully worked on every night for the last three years. Pulling a spoon out of a hidden niche, he continued to pick at the mortar between bricks, loosening the few down at the bottom that he had already picked clean. Digging in his broken nails, he managed to pry loose the lowest brick, wiggling it out into the open. He listened for the drop, trying to determine how far down it was, but a cold wind blew inside, and he couldn't hear. He moved onto the next one, and the next one, until four of the lowest bricks had been pushed out, and the wind was whistling around his cell.

He moved a layer up. Someone murmured in their sleep, someone screamed. Still, he dug and yanked, fingernails breaking, bleeding, as he pushed and strained, muscles seizing, protesting the sudden effort for the first time in years. With only two bricks left, he was wheezing and trembling, from both cold and exhaustion. He was weaker than he had suspected. It was taking too long.

A door creaked open at the end of the hall, out of sight from his cell. He could only barely hear the guards over the sound of the wind. He caught the words "noises" and "cold draft" but that was it. His heart leaped in his chest.

Shoving his shoulder up against the next brick, he threw all of his weight into it, until his muscles screamed and he was biting his lip so hard he bled. It suddenly dropped away, falling out, leaving him to slip, hitting his head against the wall. He winced, swearing quietly. The guards were moving closer.

There wasn't time to do the last brick. Instead, he turned and backed up, fitting himself into the opening he'd made. It wasn't big enough, his tunic sliding up, the stone and the floor razing the skin of his chest and back. He gritted his teeth, trying not to scream. His legs were out, swinging in the cold, and the only thing holding him up was his arms, his torso still supported by the bricks. If he let go, he'd fall out, into the night. He hoped it wasn't a long drop.

Light entered his vision, as the guards arrived. One was holding a torch, but it promptly whooshed out when the wind hit it. "Hey!" the one with the torch shouted, pointing through the bars. To his associate, he said, "Get this thing open!" The other guard reached into his pocket, fumbling with the keys.

He really hoped it wasn't a long drop. He looked over his shoulder. He could see the ground, but it looked hazy. Maybe fifteen feet. Maybe more.

The first guard dropped the torch, staring intently at him. "Where in blazes do you think you're going?"

The prisoner looked back around, smirking. "To find my daughter."

The other guard fitted the key into the lock and turned. At the same time, the prisoner let go, falling backwards into the night.

Happy New Life.

So on the wiki page for the list of holidays in the Elder Scrolls universe, the New Life Festival is listed twice, once as the equivalent to Christmas and again as the equivalent to New Year's. In this case, I wanted it to be New Year's, so if there's any confusion about the day/time, hopefully that clears it up.

Anyway, that's the end! Thanks so much to everyone who gave this a chance, and for everyone who faved, followed, and reviewed :) For updates on when the sequel will be posted, you can check my profile. Until then, I'll be working on some other things (Dragon Age and Mass Effect-related) and hopefully I'll post those too!

xo.