The Fool of Hearts [A Skyrim Fanfic]

Chapter Nine: Guilds and Gifts

The road to Riften was dreadfully long. It was warmer and drier than my trip to Winterhold, but my heart was heavy and my movements slow. It might've been enjoyable had Brelyna's face not been etched into my mind.

But I pushed through. No matter how much I wanted to curl into a ball and wait for a passing carriage- which was useless anyway because carriages hardly ever came from Winterhold-, I forced each slow step. My body was shaking with exhaustion, but the rush of adrenaline from finally seeing once I saw the City of Thieves' helped.

Two guards stood outside the gates. The one on the left had her arms crossed, glaring at all civilians, and the one right looked uncomfortable and unsure of himself in his facial expression as well as his posture, as if what he was doing wasn't morally correct. "Stop!" The female shouted as I came closer to the city gates. "To enter the city you just pay a tax. If you decide not to, leave and seek shelter some place else."

Sighing, I dug through my pockets. "Whatever. This is obviously a shakedown, but I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now." I threw the coinpurse, almost accidentally hitting the man on the right in the head, now with a look of guilt plastered on his face. He barely caught it, stuffed it into his pocket, and moved to unlock the gates. The damn tax better be worth it, I thought.

Inside, I was hit with the repulsive smell of dirty water. I walked down the old cobblestone path, taking in my new surroundings. Two story houses stood creakily overlooking the streets, their shadows giving Riften an even eerier presence. A few guards stalked the streets, prowling for any wrongdoers that could be hiding beneath sewer grates or inside locked doors.

When I came upon a bridge, I saw a river, if that's what you would call it, lying still beneath the city. It was impossible to tell how deep the water went exactly, as it was filthy. Beggars swarmed the lower level, perhaps searching for a slice of disregarded bread or a forgotten coin that slipped it of its owner's pocket.

I walked over the bridge and past an inn, finding myself in a circle of merchants and their stands. I'm not sure how I'll be able to tell who's in the infamous Thieves Guild and who isn't. Surely they don't parade around in their armor. Going to the left of the well, I notice a Breton selling potions, a Nord selling armor, and a Dunmer selling various good. To my right, I see an Argonian selling jewelry, but it's the Dunmer that really catches my attention. Any one of his miscellaneous goods could be fenced for the Guild.

"So," I said, with all the confidence I could muster, but keeping my voice semi-quiet do not to attract unwanted attention, "have you heard anything about joining the Guild?"

"Uhh," The man looked around, his eyes flicking different directions. "N-no?"

"Oh. Do you know where I could?"

"Get away, thief! Away!" He shouted, waving his arms.

So it seems the direct approach isn't the way to go here. Moving to run, I collided with the Nordic merchant. A smirk happened upon his lips, and his dark green eyes shined with amusement. "Aye, lad. Joining the Guild, are you?"

I'm going to be arrested, I thought. My first day in a new city and I'm going to be arrested for talking about the Thieves Guild. The man must have saw the panic in my face because he said, "Don't worry, just follow me."

He took me to his stand, shoving me inside. The man looked over his shoulder, checking for any nosy strollers.  "So you're interested in being a part of a certain Guild." His uncommonly accented voice was a whisper, and his breath smelled horribly of mead mixed with snowberries. A droplet of red could be seen at the corner of his mouth.