Claimed: A Thieves Guild Fanfiction [Revised&Edited]

Chapter 6

A/N Look at what an amazing picture ChippyCon from Archiveofourown drew me!!!!!!

    Crunch! Brynjolf's daggers sunk into either side of the dummy's head. He stepped back, breathing hard, to look at his handiwork. The training room dummy was in pieces. Brynjolf had been hacking at it for who knows how long. He had had a hard time sleeping lately, so here he was. Sighing in both satisfaction and exhaustion, he turned to grab a rag and clean up.

From the entrance of the room, a voice spoke saying, "You're slipping, Brynjolf." Startled, Brynjolf whipped around. When he saw who it was he relaxed, but only slightly.

"Oh, Mercer, it's you. Did you say something?" Why was he here?

"I said you're slipping. Word has it that that new recruit of yours beat you in a duel. Not only that, apparently she gave you a hard time even when you won. That can't be true, though." Mercer's voice was dripping disapproval for both Brynjolf's lack of skill and for his recruit.

"Aye, you heard correctly Mercer," Brynjolf admitted, unashamed. "For once the rumors around here are true. Arsha won our duel right before she went to Goldenglow." Brynjolf felt a strange urge to defend the lass. She had done well at Goldenglow despite her only having one week to train.

Mercer sneered at Brynjolf. "How the mighty have fallen. You are constantly bragging about your blade skills, Brynjolf, and somehow a recruit, who hadn't even completed her first real mission yet, beat you."

The way Mercer smirked at him set Brynjolf's blood on fire and he snapped. "I only boast when there's truth to it, Mercer. I haven't been slipping. The lass is that good!" One glance at Mercer told Brynjolf that he would regret his outburst later. Frey had that plotting look on his face. To Brynjolf's surprise, Mercer changed the subject, although the new one was no better than the old.

"Your recruit almost killed Thrynn last night."

"They got in a fight, it happens," Brynjolf said carefully still wary of Mercer's true intentions. "No one was hurt much. Thrynn was trying to prank Arsha and the lass didn't take well to it is all."

"I know what happened. Thrynn tried to take Arsha's mask and she almost slit his throat." The way Mercer said her name so disdainfully made Brynjolf's skin crawl.

"Thrynn is fine, Mercer!" Brynjolf exclaimed, unable to believe that they were having this conversation. "The lass stopped herself! It's Thrynn's fault anyway. He shouldn't have tried to take off Arsha's mask. If she wants to wear it she can!"

Mercer's eyes narrowed and Brynjolf knew he was about to regret everything he had just said. "You don't make that call. I do."

"You're going to make her take her mask off?" Brynjolf didn't know why the lass hid her face, but it didn't matter now. She was part of the family, and family meant accepting each other as they were, masks and all.

"Yes, I am. Unless..." Mercer's voice trailed off into thoughtful silence.

Brynjolf knew that Mercer was playing him, but he couldn't help himself. "Unless what?"

"You seem to have two problems. Your recruit needs to keep her precious mask and you need to prove that your skills aren't slipping. We'll kill two birds with one stone. Your little recruit will duel me to earn the right to hide her face. If she wins she is as good as you say. If she loses the mask goes and you stay in the Cistern, no missions until your swordplay improves. To make the duel fair I'll even use daggers instead of my swords."

Brynjolf was speechless. Mercer was insane! The lass had barely beat him, and Mercer was the best bladesman in the entire guild and possibly one of the best in all of Skyrim!