A Master Thief (A Brynjolf Fanfic)

One

Riften, 10 years before the Dragonborn's Appearance.

"Oh, do come along, Ria! We'll be late."

I turned to study the woman who was rushing me. Madam Missandra Callick, my benefactress, stood dressed in her impeccable silks, appearing ready for an audience with a queen. She held her fan before her face, as if wishing to push the fumes from Lake Honrich back out our window. Below in the Plankside I heard the vendors shouting their wares and cursing violently at the children who dared try to pickpocket them. I sighed and stood, allowing the maid the finish tying the bow at the back of my waist. As I turned, Madam Callick's face softened. 

"Oh, my pet," she sighed, giving me a rare smile. "Don't you look lovely?"

I turned to study my reflection in the tall mirror. I didn't feel very lovely at all. It wasn't that I was ungrateful, but the dress was stifling and the solemn colors of daring black-and-white made my otherwise golden Imperial skin look pallid and sickly. My hair, rather than being pinned to my head as Madam Callick's had been, hung about my shoulders wantonly, making my neck appear bare and plain. Still, to show my true feelings would be discourteous. So instead I smiled and dipped a soft curtsy. "Thank you, Madam," I mumbled.

"Oh, but by Mara's blessing," she suddenly clicked, handing her fan to the same maid. "Having your neck naked like so is highly scandalous." Before I could blink, she pulled a ribbon of jet black from behind her skirts. Where she had hidden it, I had no idea. But she stood before me, bidding me to lift my thick hair so that she could tie the silky fabric about my throat. When I turned to study the effect, I was shocked. It did look considerably better. 

"Now, that's more like it," she smiled. "Can't have you looking like an expensive floozy from one of the brothels, can we?" I blushed but didn't respond. Madam Callick didn't care. She flounced and snatched her fan from the startled maid and ordered me to gather my things. 

After all, we had an audience with the Jarl today.

~

My name is Riannia Atticus. I was raised in Cyrodill by my highly ambitious Imperial father. My mother, may the Gods watch over her, died when I was born, and according to the stories, she was in fact, quite Breton, and not Imperial at all. But Father loved her dearly and mourned for years. When I was five, my father remarried an Imperial woman who I only referred to as "Stepmother." She wasn't kind, nor did she like me much; this was fine, as I liked her even less. When I had reached my womanhood at twelve, she decided it was time to find me a benefactress. My father weakly agreed, and I was sent to be educated and live with Madam Callick, a middle-aged Imperial of meaning who had recently been widowed. Though upon meeting her, I was surprised to see that the single life appeared to be doing her just fine. 

Madam Callick was harsh and stern, but she had no daughters of her own. We bonded, albeit in odd ways, and she took a liking to my rebellious tongue and smart wit. I'll admit I grew spoiled, but I was smart and easily bored. By the time I was seventeen, we had visited more provinces in Tamriel than I could imagine. I became worldly and knowledgeable about my surroundings, and though I wrote to and missed him terribly, my father and his cruel wife were far from my mind. 

Then the truth came out one fateful night when the madam had had too much wine. I had been sent to her not only for an education, but in hopes that she could find me a suitor. I was upset, but I didn't dwell on it. I was too stubborn and far too smart for most men's liking, so I was set to be a single, flippant woman of means if necessary. But all of that changed when, one morning, Madam Callick announced that we would be traveling to Skyrim.

"Whatever for?" I asked as my maid, Noreen, brushed my hair. "Isn't it littered with Nords and warfare?"

"Nonsense, child," Madam Callick admonished. It was early and the day and I could tell she had already been drinking. "There are many there of varying races who would go to war over a girl like you."