How to Pickpocket a Pickpocket

Chapter 18

Brynjolf paced the Flagon back and forth, not in the mood for drinking, nor eating, nor training, nor pickpocketing, not even gambling with Delvin and Vex. He was restless while knowing that the lass he recruited, was out there all alone on a life-threatening job that Mercer so spontaneously gave her. He just had to give her the hardest one there was, didn't he? She just had to accept the challenge without thinking it through, didn't she? He had this suspicion that she wasn't the type of lass that would back away from a challenge easily. It was both a good and dangerous trait for a thief to have.

"Keep pacing like that and I'll have to let you pay for damaging the floor." Vekel joked from the bar, "What has gotten you this worked up?"

"I bet you a hundred septims it's that girl he picked up." Delvin smirked, "Heard she's on her first job to prove herself to Mercer."

"Not just any job." Vex butted in, "The one that almost cost me my life, mind you."

Etienne, who was silently drinking at the table the farthest from the bar, nearly chocked on his mead, "She's what?!"

Brynjolf stopped his pacing to sit down next to Delvin, subconsciously grabbing Delvin's tankard and downing the contents in it. Delvin scowled disapprovingly at the redhead drinking his ale but decided against it to start an argument. Instead, he placed a hand on his shoulder for comfort.

"You're wasting your youth, Bryn. Stop frowning like that! You'll get wrinkles and then you'll be no prettier than Maven Black-Briar." He chuckled at his own comparison, but kept it light and brief, "If that girl is as good as you said she is, then I wouldn't worry about her. Besides, you've seen her pick a lock and plant a ring, but you haven't seen her use a sword yet, now did you?"

Bryn opened his mouth to speak, but another voice popped up, "I have."

All heads turned to Etienne, to where he was now sitting at the bar to get a refill. Dirge and Vipir scooted closer as well and even Tonilia left her usual crate to hear what the long lost thieve had to tell.

"Remember how I told you I was held hostage at the Thalmor Embassy? And how I was rescued by the Dragonborn? Well, have any of you actually figured out that Artis IS the Dragonborn?" he smirked as realization and surprise flashed in the small crowd's eyes, "I had a very clear view of her fighting off two Thalmor guards like they were nothing but petty bandits. She has skills beyond anyone's imagination. We escaped through a trapdoor that led to a cave guarded by a frost troll, and we all know how hard those are to kill. She merely had to shout two words to make it fly across the cave, like it was lighter than a raven's feather. She took down that troll faster than the eye could see. Honestly, there's no reason to be worried about a few mercenaries. I'm actually more worried FOR them."

"Sounds like the two of you had a blast." Brynjolf huffed and yanked Delvin's plate from underneath his nose, digging into his fresh horker steak and grilled leaks. Again, Delvin had to bite back a row of curses he wanted to shout at Bryn. He knew the guy was stressed, but still, it was his lunch.

"But shouldn't she be back by now?" Bryn continued in frustration, "Goldenglow isn't that far away and how long does it take to kill a few mercenaries, then? What if she's trapped? That's it, I'm going after her!"

He shot up from his chair, ready to head for the exit, with Delvin and Vex short on his heels to stop him. But when he turned around to stomp out, he was met by the familiar figure of a very beaten up, very wet, very disoriented and very pissed looking Artis. The whole group stopped dead in their tracks, all very surprised to see her here at that moment.

"Lass?" Brynjolf felt relief washing over him, "You made it? I mean, of course you would make it! I never had a doubt!"

"The floor would say otherwise." Vekel muttered.