Annoying Mercer, Impressing Brynjolf. (A Skyrim Fanfic)

Annoying Mercer, Impressing Brynjolf.

Grace sat with her legs folded on her bed in the cistern. Her thieves guild jacket sat on the ground next to the bed. Her white hair tied back and out of the way. She fidgeted and fiddled with the pegs on a lute she had found. It was out of tune, but she was determined to fix it.

Written on the neck was 'Finn's Lute' in scratchy old letters. "Hmmppff" she muffled to herself, her lips pursed, she continued pulling at the pegs. This lute was old by the looks of it. She was intrigued that it hasn't shattered to pieces already. 

She plucked the first cord with her thumb as a test and with it she heard a grunt from across the cistern. As she lifted her head she saw Mercer peering over at her from his desk. 

Their faces connected instantly as she saw she had broken his concentration. A smirk lingered across her face once she realized his annoyance.

With his eyes still locked on her like prey, she placed her thumb over the second cord and strummed it. The sound was a little off, but it was alright.

Mercer continued to stare at her with disgust as she carelessly dragged her fingers across the last six strings, causing the 'boing' of each cord to bounce off the walls of the cistern.

"Don't you have better things to do than disturb me?" He scolded 

No, actually.

Grace throated a deep chuckle in response to that and shifted one leg to hang over the edge of the bed. Annoying people was fun, especially grumpy guild masters.
She thumbed an irregular tune and noticed Brynjolf had been standing nearby for some time. When did he get here? 

"I'd watch yourself, lass" he teased with one hand on his hip, the other to his chin, touching the small amount of stubble with his fingers whilst facing the direction of Mercer. 

"Your protege is a pain in my backside" he growled to Brynjolf from across the Cistern. 

Brynjolf in return just shrugged and turned his attention back to Grace.

She continued, trying to impress him with each note she played. He watched her as she went on for minutes. She knew how to play. She was the youngest bard in the Bards College after all.

After a few tunes one of the strings snapped, hitting her in the face. 

"Well, color me impressed lass" he said with that lovely accent of his. 

Grace stared into the void. Her cheeks burned red from embarrassment - and from being smacked by a lute cord. What now? her brown pupils moved to Brynjolf who chuckled, then to Mercer's desk. He had clearly lost interest and had his head fixed in that big ol' book that always sat on the desk. Well that was that, now what can she do to kill the time? 

"Maybe I'll grab a drink from the Bee and Barb, Keerava has taken a liking to me" she tossed the lute aside. After that, her determination to tune the lute had ceased. Grace got up from her bed and passed by Brynjolf. 

"Fancy a drink?" She looked back at him, hoping he'd join her.

"Sorry lass, I've got important things to do, we'll have a drink another time" 
She wasn't the least bit surprised by his response, he was always busy it seemed. Too busy for her. But then what was he doing right now? He didn't appear to be busy at all right at this moment. She would just have to keep trying.