And here you have it everyone! Book Two of Two Halves!

This book will follow the Thieves Guild quest line as well as part of the Dragonborn questline. I hope you all enjoy this as much as you did the first one!

If you want to follow me socially, I have a Twitter account: NikkiNicole159 and I also have a Deviant Art account: Nicky-Nightmare

Chapter One

The rain fell into the Cistern through the hole in the city, echoing throughout the Thieves Guild hide out and making it hard for anyone to hear anything. But Lassarina could hear past the rain, listening to some of the other Thieves chat across the Cistern. She heard the distinct hissing of Niruin firing his arrows into a nearby target. She listened to the Guildmaster, Mercery Frey, mutter incoherently to himself over some papers on his desk. She could even hear the footsteps approaching her bed at the moment. Using her nose, she picked up the scents of Vipir and Etienne and sighed heavily.

"Hey boys," she greeted them, setting her book down.

"Hey Rina," Etienne smiled beneath his hood.

"Can I help you with anything?" she asked them.

"We were wondering if you wanted to come up to the Bee and Barb with us and get a few drinks," Vipir told her, flashing a smile. "My treat."

Deep within her, her wolf spirit growled and recoiled. Lassarina tried to calm it, but it wasn't having any of that. Ever since she left the Companions two weeks ago, her wolf spirit had been extremely irritable. It didn't like the choice she had made to leave, but she really didn't have a choice in the matter. Lassarina was to blame for the rift between Farkas and Vilkas, twin brothers who were also high ranking members of the Companions. And they were also her ex lovers.

Pushing her waist length, dark auburn hair out of her face, Lassarina gave the two thieves in front of her a sad smile. "Sorry, but I'd rather not be seen on the streets."

"Come on Rina, you've been with us for a few days now and all you've done is sit down here in the Cistern," Vipir sighed. "Come up for some fresh air and have a drink with us."

"Maybe another time," she told them, getting up from the bed and stretching. "I'm still tired from traveling here."

Lassarina didn't give them a chance to try and talk her into joining them. She walked towards the center of the Cistern and stared at the hole in the city, trying to catch a hint of fresh air from there. She could only just taste it on her tongue and it made her crave the outside world. But she couldn't risk going out often. Lassarina knew that Riften was the first place Vilkas and her half-brother, Einarr, would come looking for her and she had finally convinced herself she was never going to return with them.

Her mind still strayed to the memory of Farkas and Vilkas fighting each other in Morthal. They would have brutally beat each other within an inch of their lives if she hadn't stopped them by using her Thu'um on them. Lassarina had managed to split them apart, but Farkas had left, red in the face and furious over the betrayal inflicted upon him by her and Vilkas. Farkas had told his twin he was dead to him and it had inflicted a great deal of pain on Vilkas. One so intense, she made a snap decision that very night.

She had packed up her belongings and left for Riften that very night, stealing a horse from a farm nearby and leaving her pet wolf back at the inn. Lassarina had wanted to take Fang with her, but she knew that Riften was no place for a wolf. The one time she had brought Fang into the city, he had been a small pup, and the guards had given her a lot of grief over it. She knew that Fang would be fine without her, having Einarr's daughter Kiraya to play and run with.

A sharp pain struck her heart as she thought of her family back in Whiterun. She could only imagine how Einarr must have reacted when Vilkas had returned with the news that she had left. Einarr was very protective of her, something she still wasn't accustomed to since they had been separated for sixteen years. Lassarina knew that he would come to Riften soon, searching for her. So she was hiding in the Cistern, making sure he wouldn't be able to find a trace of her scent with his heightened werewolf senses.

"Why the long face lass?"

Lassarina looked over her shoulder and looked at her oldest friend, the man who raised her when she was still a small child, Brynjolf. After her mother had died and her brother had been adopted by the Khajiit Za'nir, Brynjolf had become like an older brother to Lassarina. He had taught her how to pick pockets and lock and how to sneak as well as a master thief. Though she would never admit it, the red headed thief had also been her first love. She often fantasized about one day marrying him when she was all grown up and spending the rest of her days by his side, stealing from anyone they came across together.

When she had reunited with him a few months ago, he had offered her a place in the guild. She had denied him at first, and kept denying it each time a letter from him came to her. But when she had decided to leave the Companions and had nowhere else to go, she instinctively came to Brynjolf, and he allowed her to join their ranks. He gave her a place to stay when he could have just as easily turned her away.

"Sorry, was just thinking to myself," she murmured to Brynjolf. "Was there any signs of my brother today?"

"Not yet," he shook his head, coming over to stand beside her and stare up at the rain as it dripped into the Cistern. "Finally starting to feel cooped up in here?"

"Just a bit," she admitted with a shrug. "It would be nice if I could step outside in the next few days and start doing jobs for the guild. I appreciate the training I've been getting, but I'm sick of the looks Mercer has been giving me."

She glanced over her shoulder at the Breton, catching him in the middle of shooting her a nasty look. Lassarina didn't understand why Mercer had a problem with her, but ever since she stepped into the Cistern with Brynjolf, the Guildmaster had been snapping at her left and right, telling her to get to work instead of lounge around.

"Mercer's just not used to you yet," Brynjold told her. "He'll come around eventually. Then you'll see he's still just as grumpy."

Lassarina chuckled and sighed. "It would be nice to get a mead at the inn though."

"You could get a drink in the Flagon," he suggested. "I'd even join you."

"I could try bonding with Vex again," she rolled her eyes.

The pale haired Imperial woman had taken an instant dislike to Lassarina the moment she stepped into the Cistern. She openly sneered at her and bumped into her, hard, any time they crossed paths. Lassarina had started avoiding the crabby woman, choosing to avoid any possible confrontation rather than get into a brawl with her.

"She's likely irritated that the men in the Guild have chosen to fawn over you now," Brynjolf joked.

"Aye, that's just what I need," Lassarina laughed. "Countless men bending over backwards just for the chance to crawl into bed beside me."

"You did grow up to be a pretty one," he told her, holding her chin and studying her face. "You look just like Edana."

Lassarina smiled at the fact she looked like her mother. "Well at least I look nothing like my father."

"Finally find out who he was?"

She nodded glumly. "Aye, but I don't want to talk about it. So don't push for more information, alright Bryn?"

"Wouldn't dream of it lass," Brynjolf smirked, his bright green eyes flashing mischievously. "So are we going to get that drink?"

"Alright," she relented, following Brynjolf out towards the Ragged Flagon.

Her mind had strayed to thoughts of her father and his son, her other half-brother, Ulfric Stormcloak. Just thinking his name left a bad taste in her mouth. She didn't like being related to that pompous, arrogant, racist piece of shit. When Lassarina and Ulfric's father died, she was only a year old, and Ulfric, feeling threatened by any claim she had to Windhelm, banished her, her mother and Einarr from the city, and she had never forgiven him for that. Though a part of her still admired Ulfric for trying to liberate Skyrim from the Thalmor clutches and make worship of Talos legal again.

The would-be High King was a constant thorn in the Thalmor and Empire's side, always attacking their patrols and soldiers should the Stormcloaks run into any. The civil war had gotten so bad that, nearly eight months ago, Ulfric and a group of his soldiers were to be sent to the chopping block. Along with Lassarina and Einarr too. She still shook her head often at how she had been in a cart with both her brothers and didn't even know it at the time. Lassarina would have been executed if it hadn't been for that dragon that burned the entire village of Helgen to the ground. A dragon she was meant to kill.

Dragonborn.

The title was a constant presence in Lassarina's life. She was born with the blood and soul of a Dragon, and gifted with the ability to absorb the souls of the Dragons she slayed and project her own voice into a Thu'um as they did as well. Einarr too was Dragonborn, though he cared little about his responsibilities as one. And to be honest, Lassarina didn't care much either. Just because she was Dragonborn, didn't mean she was going to risk her life and go out into Skyrim to hunt dragons. If one were to cross her path, she would kill it, but she wasn't about to go out seeking them herself.

I really do need a stiff drink, she thought to herself as she and Brynjolf stepped into the Flagon.

"Brynjolf, come over and have a seat!" called out Delvin Mallory, a male Breton and high ranking member of the Guild. "Bring your pretty little protege too. Vekel, two more tankards!"

Lassarina walked with Brynjolf over to the table Delvin was sitting at and took a seat across from the Breton. She still hadn't gotten to know him in the days since she had joined the Guild, but she got a feeling she knew what kind of man he was. The appreciative look he gave her showed that he was, at times, quite a lecherous man, but there was a glimmer of amusement behind it, indicating he was also very easy going. He flashed her a friendly smile, one that she couldn't help returning, and patiently awaited her mead.

"So how are you liking the guild little lady?" Delvin asked her.

"I like it well enough," she replied, nodding her head to Vekel when he brought her and Brynjolf their drinks. "Certainly different from what I did before."

"Aye I heard you were a Companion," he chuckled. "Lemme guess, Brynjolf plucked you off the streets after failing to bed you, and dropped you into the thick of things without tellin' you which way is up. Am I right?"

Lassarina exchanged an amused looked with Brynjolf over the rim of her tankard. "Actually I came seeking Brynjolf out."

"Aye, Delvin, I've told you about Lassarina before," Brynjolf added. "Remember the stories I told you? About the little lass I trained to be a master thief one day?"

"Ah so this is her then?" Delvin's brows rose. He stared at Lassarina a couple moments more before adding, "Now I remember, this is the same girl that got into the Cistern a few months ago."

"I recognized the Shadowmark on the secret entrance," she explained. "Brynjolf taught me about them when I was still just a girl."

"Would have never taken such a pretty girl for a thief though," Delvin shrugged. "An assassin perhaps, but not a thief."

"I'm an excellent thief," she protested.

"Talk is cheap," Delvin laughed. "Do some jobs for me and then I'll decide whether or not you're a good thief."

"I'd be more than happy to listen to some suggestions on how to improve myself," Lassarina told the Breton. "Brynjolf is too much of a charmer to say whether or not I need to work on something."

Delvin looked at Brynjolf. "See, this kind of attitude comes from someone who wants to get rich and stay alive long enough to enjoy it." He looked back at Lassarina and reached out to pat her shoulder. "We're goin' to get along nicely."

"Careful lass, he's just trying to soften you up before he tries to bed you," Brynjolf warned with a smile.

"You always know how to ruin my fun, don't you Brynjolf?" Delvin sighed. "You can't just keep stealing all the women for yourself."

Brynjolf's eyes flashed. "I practically raised her Delvin, I won't sit back and let you take her for a ride."

"I can take care of myself you know," Lassarina interjected. "If he tried anything I didn't approve, I could always geld him like a horse."

"And with that, I'm no longer interested," Delvin grinned, taking a sip of his mead. "Anyways, if you've got the nerve, I've got plenty of extra jobs to help the Guild back on its feet."

"Maybe later on," she told him. "For now I shouldn't be seen on the streets."

"And why's that?"

"Because my brother and former lover are more than likely looking for me," she answered, her voice falling into a sad monotone. "Wouldn't want to get taken from the guild without making a bit of coin first."

She caught the look Brynjolf was giving her. Lassarina knew that her friend wished to know exactly what happened to make her leave the Companions, but just thinking about it caused her heart to ache. She might be able to tell Brynjolf someday, but for now, he would just have to deal with her silence.

"On the run then?" Delvin mused. "Well you aren't the only thief here escaping their past."

"Guess I'll fit in here just fine then," she sighed.

"Hard to believe a few decades ago, this place was as busy as the Imperial City," Delvin quipped, looking around the Flagon. "Now look at it. Fallin' apart and you're lucky if you don't trip over a skeever."

"Brynjolf told me in a letter that you think the Guild has been cursed," Lassarina mentioned.

"And they think I'm daft for sayin' it too," Delvin glared at Brynjolf.

"We're just having a run of bad luck," Brynjolf sighed, rolling his eyes. "We aren't cursed."

"I'm tellin' you, somethin' out there is piss-drunk mad at us," the Breton thief growled. "I don't know who or what it is, but it's beyond just you and me. We've been cursed."

"Angered any Orcs lately?" Lassarina joked. "They might have prayed to Malacath to put a curse on us."

"This isn't a joking matter little girl," Delvin snapped.

Lassarina narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "It's called making the best out of a difficult situation, Delvin."

She finished off the rest of her mead and got up from her chair, walking back towards the Cistern.

"Lass where are you going?" Brynjolf called.

"Away from him," she snapped. "I don't appreciate being talked down to."

While she spoke the truth, the real reason she was walking away was because her wolf spirit was becoming irritable. It didn't like getting snapped at and Lassarina could feel the presence of her beastblood, as if she would change any moment.

Please, not in here, she pleaded with her wolf spirit.

I wish to hunt, her wolf snarled. You haven't allowed us to become one in too long. I need my freedom.

Very well, but allow me to get outside the city first, she growled.

Hurry.

Lassarina rushed across the Cistern, heading towards the ladder that went up to the secret entrance. Once she was under the crypt, she pulled the chain and let herself outside, in the grave yard. She ran at the rock wall that surrounded the entire city, jumping onto a gravestone before grabbing onto the top of the wall. She pulled herself up and over the wall. She let out a hiss of pain as she felt her hair become caught on a branch, several strands ripping from her scalp. She rubbed the sore spot as she dropped onto the grass on the other side and began the arduous process of removing her Thieves Guild armor.

"Damn all these straps and buckles," she snarled quietly, practically ripping them apart.

Once she had removed the armor, her bones snapped and reset, making her fall to the ground and groan in pain. The fur sprouted all across her naked skin and her groan turned into a guttural howl. Her change was quick and she lay on the ground, panting heavily, her nose twitching at all the scents. She got to her feet and ran into the underbrush, losing herself in the freedom that her werewolf form gave her.

oOo

She was on the carriage to Helgen again, her hands bound and sitting in between her half-brothers. Ulfric was gagged and Einarr knocked out. She knew right away she was dreaming, having had this nightmare several time before. The carriage came to a halt and Einarr groaned beside her.

"Why are we stopping?" asked the horse thief, Lokir.

"Why do you think?" Ralof replied grimly. "End of the line."

No, not again, Lassarina thought to herself.

"Let's go," Ralof told them. "Shouldn't keep the guards waiting for us."

It was happening all over again. Word for word. They got off the cart, Einarr still delirious behind her, just like the first time. Lokir protesting. Ralof and the Imperial soldier with the list glaring at each other as if they knew each other. Lokir running off, only to be shot down by a barrage of arrows. Finally the soldier called her forward.

"Who are you?" he asked her.

She had no control over her words or her body. "Lassarina of Riften."

She hadn't heard it the first time, but she heard it now, the sharp intake of air from Einarr behind her. But she was led away before he could say anything, Einarr had known it was her. The knowledge made her smile. She watched General Tullius reprimand Ulfric for his crimes against the Empire, for murdering the High King. She heard the dragons roar.

Don't ignore it, she silently pleaded. It's coming!

The priestess began to give them their last rites, only to be interrupted by a Stormcloak who walked up to the block and had his head chopped off.

"Next, the Nord in rags. Step forward woman!"

The dragon roared again. Lassarina was roughly shoved forward, the tears that she had experienced that first time were once again rushing down her cheeks. She was lowered to the block and her face was pressed against the gore from the first man. It was still warm. She looked up at the executioner, and for some reason the dream changed. The executioner had changed to her adopted father, Trebon, and he was sneering down at her.

"Justice for murdering my son," he told her as he raised the axe.

The dragon then appeared, it red eyes smoldering and its black scales ominous against the gray morning. With a mighty Thu'um, the skies became tinted with red and smoldering rocks rained down on Helgen. She felt Ralof pull her to her feet and towards the tower.

"Quick into the tower!" Ralof shouted at her, pulling her by her still bound hands.

The town was in the grips of panic once again. Many fell to the dragons shouts of Fire and the rocks the fell from the skies. She was pushed into the tower and looked over her shoulder. Einarr was right behind her, no longer in rags but wearing the Steel Armor he always wore.

"Jarl, what is that thing?" Ralof asked. "Could the legends be true?!"

"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric replied, his voice calm.

"We need to move now!" Ralof told her. "Up through the tower, let's go!"

She followed him up the steps, knowing that she would wake up once the black dragon broke through the wall and used his Fire shout. But the dream took another strange turn. Right where the dragon was supposed to break through, Vilkas stood there, looking down at her sadly.

"You said you loved me," he murmured, the sounds of the chaos outside completely silent now.

"Vilkas," she whispered. "I do love you."

"Then why did you leave?"

She reached out for him, her hands no longer bound. But the black dragon broke through the wall, it's flames enveloping Vilkas. Lassarina screamed, falling to her knees as he turned to ash.

oOo

Lassarina's eyes flew open and she sat up, her breath coming out in quick panicked gasps. She was lying behind a cluster of bushes, completely naked. It was where she had changed back to her human form sometime last night and decided to pass out. It was still dark out, so she must not have slept long. She raised her hand to her forehead, wiping the sweat from her brow and trying to calm her heart from the terrifying dream.

"Why did it change?" she wondered aloud. "It was always the same before."

With a heavy sigh, she got to her feet, wiping off the dead leaves and dirt from her body. She looked around at her surrounding and tried to remember how far she ran last night. She had made sure to not run too far from Riften. Her nose picked up the smell of water and she walked through the trees until she could see Lake Honrich not too far off and Riften right across.

"I might be able to make it back before it gets too late in the morning," she said to herself.

She started walking towards the water, deciding to swim across rather than walk along the shore, when her nose picked up the smell of smoke. Lassarina looked around and spotted the familiar glow of a campfire not too far off.

"Well I do need clothes," she grinned, walking towards it.

She dropping into a crouch as she got closer and stayed in the shadows, her feet barely making any sounds as she stepped lightly. She could see a couple of men sleeping on the ground on top of bedrolls. She also noticed their armor and the very familiar blue cuirass.

Stormcloaks, she thought.

She proceeded forward great care and walked into their campsite, spotting their packs on the ground. She walked over to one and found a tunic and a pair of tundra cotton trousers inside. Grinning from ear to ear, Lassarina pulled on the clothing and rummaged through the pack for anything else to steal. It was mostly food and some linen wraps for injuries, so she left it alone. Her eyes then caught the glint of a nice looking steel dagger lying beside an empty bedroll. As she picked it up, she froze and made a frightening realization.

Why would there be an empty bedroll?

She heard the familiar sound of a weapon being drawn behind her. "Put it down thief."

Lassarina gritted her teeth and dropped the dagger.

"Now hands in the air," the man said, his voice sounding strangely familiar.

She raised her hands and sighed heavily.

"Turn around, nice and slow," he ordered.

Lassarina slowly turned around, her eyes hard so the first thing she could do was glare at the Stormcloak. But when she saw his face, her jaw dropped, as did his.

"Sweet Talos," he said, lowering his sword.

"I can't believe it," she muttered, dropping her hands. "Ralof?"

Time to bring back everyone's favorite Stormcloak soldier! And we take off with an exciting ending, as well as peek back into the scene from Helgen. I hope you all enjoyed the start of my sequel and remember to Fave/Follow/Review!

Much love,

Mirage