Sorry I'm not sure what is going on with the summary. Fanfiction is doing something weird to it. Anyways please enjoy!

I remember being told a tale as a little boy. One about a being who blessed the lands of Skyrim with each step. One who can speak the tongue of the dragons, one who can place their hands on their heads without being eaten alive. They would be able to cast spells more powerful than the professors at the College of Winterhold and fight stronger than any man. This being was known as the Dragonborn.

But the day of the Dragonborn's arrival was delayed . . . and delayed and delayed. The people of Skyrim soon began to live their lives, each day their hope of the dragonborn arriving dying. All until it was nothing more than an ember.

What did I do you ask?
Well I grew up as a sneaky young lad. My fingers tingling to steal something. I grew up never once focusing on the dragonborn. He was soon thrown into the depths as my mind, nothing more than a tale. Of course he was someone I looked up to, real or not. He was to be strong, courageous. I looked to him as if he were a father.

But little did all of Skyrim know that in a remote little cabin off in the forests lived a girl who held such powers. And little did I know that one day, she'd hold my heart in her hands as well.

Brynjolf narrowed his eyes as he checked his surroundings before picking the lock with ease. The door swung open, allowing him to sneak inside. With a soft click he closed it while waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark. A smirk danced on his lips. Another job for the guild. Which meant more money.

He crept around as silent as the floorboards let him. He opened every door, checked ever self and scanned every corner. Still no luck.

Then something glistened.

He turned and saw it sparkle again. His hands moved over the piece of flooring. He gave a slight tug. It moved.

He quickly pulled up the plank and low and behold, the necklace.

He snatched it up without a second guess before letting the wood fall back into place. He winced as it hit the floor with a thump. Stupid, he let his excitement get the best of him.

Then the sound of a sword being drawn rung in his ears. He rolled quickly to the right, the blade just skimming past. Then he got to his feet and ran for it.

" Guards! Guards!"

He cursed as he fumbled with his reins. He had tied them in a knot so then his horse wouldn't try to bolt for it. But as the sound of the guards closing in on him he began to question on waisting the money on the damned thing to begin with.

And arrow skimmed past his hand, cutting through the reins. It wasn't the best thing in the world but he would have to make do.

As he dodged arrows Brynjolf swung his leg over and grabbed hold of the mane. With a click of his tongue and a kick of his feet the horse reared and took off.

He had thought he had made it, that was until another arrow skimmed past his nose. He growled and got low. So the guards had their own horses too huh?

" Come on, show me I didn't waste my money on you." He whispered into its ears. The horses ears flickered in response. As if taking offense to his comment it charged even faster, nearly throwing Brynjolf off his saddle.

But the guards were still close behind. He weaved in and out of trees to try to throw them off his tracks but had no luck. So he pulled right.

Brynjolf slowed his horse down to a walk and looked around. His eyes darted back and forth. The forest was quiet. Too quiet for is own liking.
Then his horse reared as an arrow pierced its side. Brynjolf's hands slipped from its mane and he went toppling back. As he slowly rolled to his side he watched the horse take off in a run, without him on its back.

" God damn beast. Toughest one I have my ass." He growled as he hobbled to his feet. As much as he wanted to sit there and complain he didn't have the time. With pain shooting up from his ankle to his ribs he was left to limp his way to safety.

" He's got no horse. He must be close, spread out!"

Brynjolf stuck low to the ground, using the night to conceal him just like how he would on the rest of his jobs. He had gotten out of trouble before, he could get out of it now. . . hopefully.

He dove for the bushes as a guards passed by him. He held his breath for 5 counts before it was safe to dart for it. He had to find a place to hide and fast.

Brynjolf looked to the skies. His eyes widened with hope as he saw smoke. He rushed towards it, the pain in his ankle increasing. He pawed at the bushes as quickly as he could. Then a smile brightened his face.

A cottage! The perfect place to hide. He glanced down at the dagger on his belt. Surely the owners wouldn't mind his stay.

He glanced left then right before darting for it. When he came to the door it opened without the need to pick the lock. Then again seeing how no one came out this far he could see the lack of reasoning to.

He shut the door behind him and peered out the window. In the forest he could see the distant light of lanterns through the trees. He'd be safe till morning.

He turned his attention to the cottage. It was small, perfect for a single person. Some items were organized, like the food. Others were not, like the mess of paints and brushes.

He stood up straighter as he walked towards the center. The fire in the pit was still burning well enough to send out the smoke through the chimney that led him there. Someone had just fed it.

His eyes flickered around, looking for the owner. Of course he wouldn't kill them but he'd have to knock him out cold longer enough for his stay.

Then a hand latched onto his shoulder, yanking him around. Before he hand a chance to react a fist collided with his temples then to his gut. Brynjolf doubled over in pain then fell to the ground. The last thing he could remember was a pair of boots walking up to him, hesitating as if the owner wasn't sure on what to do. Then his world went black.