Was just doing the Thieves Guild jobs and this popped into my head, It's not very polished, but hopefully you'll like it.



Dragonsreach stood silent, save for the quiet tapping of metal on stone as the guards patrolled the various corridors of the castle. The Jarl and his children had long since retired to their beds, as had the housecarl and servants. Many of the torches had been doused, leaving huge shadows that spilled across the floor and walls, entire sections shrouded in almost complete darkness, the shadows only retreating when a guard carrying a torch came by.

Only one figure didn't belong, shrouded in in cloth as black as the night outside, and completely silent as he moved carefully through the corridors, not a single floorboard creaking under his enchanted boots. He made his way slowly toward the Jarls quarters, silently racing up the stairs moments after a patrol had disappeared over the top, quickly darting into one of the rooms before they turned round to double back on their assigned path. The patrols and routines of the Castle Guards were well-practised, very rarely did they waver from their designated routes which doubled back and overlapped in seemingly random locations. An effective tactic against an attacking force, not so much against a solitary thief, especially one who had the favour of Lady Nocturnal.

The thief turned to survey the room, three children slept comfortably in their beds. Two boys and a girl, and there atop the girls bed-stand sat his target, a necklace studded with some of the most precious gems in all of Skyrim, a prize fit for a princess. The thief strode across the room and plucked the amulet from the bed-stand, giving a quick look around her corner of the room to see if any more valuables were carelessly left laying about, there were none. Giving a shrug, the thief turned back toward the door, his foot knocking the bed-stand as he did so, the noise alerted a guard who had been passing by at that moment. The guard stopped and took a step back into the doorway, peering into the darkness, he was about to step into the room with his torch to light up the area when a shape much darker than the shadows of the room flashed by. Surprised, he turned his head, and was greeted by a fist which slammed full force into his face, followed by a knee to the stomach which hit hard enough to wind him despite the protective padding from his chain-mail. He barely had time to register the seeming inhuman strength of the attacker, however, as a pair of hands grabbed his head, pulled it back, and then slammed it into the side of the doorway, knocking him out. The thief grabbed the mans torch, stopping it from rolling onto something flammable, and stepped outside. There were flowerbeds at the top of the stairs, close enough to the rooms that it would keep people inside, but not so close that it could cause harm before the flames were doused. The perfect distraction, and no chance for fatalities.

He moved quickly, thrusting his torch into one set of flowers then racing over and setting alight the next, stopping to give a wave to the guard below as he dropped the torch in amongst the already burning plants. The guard shouted, alerting all those nearby, and drew his sword, but the thief was faster, jumping down away from the fire and landing not two feet from the man with his half drawn sword, the man saw the thiefs daggers and he glared at the thief, whose red eyes shone malevolently from the cowled mask he wore, as if daring the thief to kill him. In a blur of motion the thief struck, one blade sinking into the mans shoulder, rendering his sword arm useless, the other sinking into his leg, stopping him being able to give chase. Another guard had arrived, and gave another shout, though there was little point now, as the crackle of flames and the sound of pounding footsteps on the stone floor told the thief his presence was well and truly known now. He raced backwards before and spun round, ducking under the guards wide swing with a wicked looking two-handed steel sword. He swept the guards legs out from under him, sending him face first to the floor, where the thief was upon him in an instant, delivering a blow to the back of the skull that rendered him immediately unconscious.

Now the crackle of flames had become loud enough that the children had awoken, and were screaming in terror at the flames, unable to flee. Smoke had begun to fill the corridors, meaning the castle mage would be coming soon. More guards approached as he raced back out of the Jarls personal wing and into the main area of the Castle, the thief expertly ducked under their blades and rose again once he was past, his pace barely slowing. He raced through a doorway and onto a balcony that overlooked the main court. A voice behind him telling him to stop made him turn, and he gave the housecarl a cheery wave, as if they were old friends, ignoring the bow she had trained on him. He gave a mock bow and then raced for the ledge, an arrow barely missing his head, he grabbed the banister and jumped over, calling upon Nocturnals power as he landed, and a cloud of smoke eruped from him, shrouding him for a moment, and when it cleared he had vanished, which was just as well, considering a second arrow and a blast of ice soared through the spot where he had stood. The sound of smashing glass as a window suddenly exploded outwards told them all that the thief had eluded them all, and invisible as he was now, would never be found in the city.

***

"It was a message, nothing more." the Jarl said the next day, his carefully nuetral tone belying his anger.
"A message? From who? About what?" asked his steward, clearly puzzled.
"That thief could become invisible, could have remained undetected the entire time, yet he chose to alert us to his presence once he had what he came for, knowing full well we would never catch him. No, this was more than a message, it was a warning. The Thieves Guild are telling us they have returned to Whiterun, and they are letting us know just how far their reach extends."
"And there I was thinking we only had to worry about dragons, how foolish of me." The housecarl replied dryly. The Jarl did not reply save to scowl more deeply.

***

The thief had changed his attire almost as soon as he had left whiterun, keeping to the shadows and slowly making his way back to Riverwood. The sun was just creeping above the horizon as he approached the camp he had set up just outside of the village, his horse waited patiently for his return, and gave an excited whinny when it saw his approach.

Faendal, a friendly Wood Elf who lived here in the village, had been looking after the horse, despite having no idea what its master was up to. He hid a small pouch of coins under a bedroll for the elf as a thank you, and then mounted his steed, giving the village one last look before turning and heading back toward Riften, and the rest of the Guild with news of his success.