Skyrim One-Shots

Mercer and Brynjolf x Reader ~Rejections~

You recoiled, frowning at Vex's bold statement while Delvin gave a sharp look to the white-haired woman. 

The Flagon murmured with quiet talk from the guild members, though most were out for jobs at this time of night. You took a stiff drink of your ale, trying to formulate words for a response.

"So what you're telling me," you started, meeting her eyes with raised brows, "is that both the Guildmaster and the Second-in-Command have it for me?"

The master thief nodded.  "I'm not kidding you, ____. Niruin will tell you the same thing. They were bitching on each other about it yesterday."

"Oh, that's shit, darlin'," Delvin claimed. "There isn't a way they'd do that."

"They did, and they just came in," she muttered.

You forced your eyes to keep contact with hers. "I barely interact with them."

"I know," Vex huffed. You glanced behind you, getting a glimpse of Brynjolf's red hair and Mercer's cold scowl. You were out on jobs so much and with clientele that you rarely needed to report to them- you were independent enough that you'd find small jobs, pass them to Brynjolf, and continue on your way.

Mercer, though? You'd talked to him twice. Twice! The first time was a year ago, when you first came up to him, threw a notice on his desk, and said you wanted to join. After that, you reported back for Goldenglow, not a speck of blood on you, and that was all.

You would admit you did indeed exchange small talk once a week about the general business of the guild, but nothing more. You kept to yourself and didn't talk much. When you did talk, it was sharp and sarcastic, bitter, even.

Maybe that was what it was.

Or maybe, it was the fact that your entire story was a mystery. Mercer had commented on it, Brynjolf had commented on it, and all other members on the guild too. A safe they couldn't crack- your past. Of course, they would be interested.

"Bryn's coming," Delvin cleared his throat.

Sure enough, in a few seconds, the call held true and the smooth-talking accented voice reached your ears.

"____," came the hum. "How's it going?"

"Exit is to the left, bar is to the right. I am not in those choices," you answered, taking a swig of your ale.

Vex barely held in a grin and Delvin wheezed.

The redhead visibly faltered, taking a long inhale before continuing. You got a glimpse of Mercer, who was watching with a shake of his head. The Guildmaster stayed by the doorway leading to the Cistern.

"Oh come on, love," he chuckled. "You've been busy?"

"I'm always busy," you stated.

"Right, right. You have any free-"

"Get lost, Bryn," Vex barked. "____ ain't interested."

The man met her with a glare, but eventually walked off.

You looked to Delvin, his laughter starting to bubble out. "That was brutal, kid."

"Wait, wait, wait," Vex choked with a grin, "Mercer's laughing at him."

"You gonna do the same to him?" Delvin asked, sniggering.

"I'll be out by the time he tries," you sighed. "I'm going to get another drink and then I'm hitting the hay."

Both thieves laughed and said their goodbyes as you stood and went to the bar, leaning against it and signaling the bartender over, the man rolling his eyes and pulling up a drink from underneath the bar without a single word from you.

You moved to get coins but the man shook his head. "You're good."

There was a loud cackle of Vex cracking up, and you had no doubt Bryn had jumped at the chance to cover it for you.

You rolled your eyes, slapping the coin on the counter. "I pay for my own shit."

Swiping the drink from the counter, you stalked off with silent footsteps and a wicked sharp gaze, sidestepping Mercer as you attempted to get into the Cistern.

He did not move.

You looked up at him coldly. "Guildmaster," you stated.

"Got a job for you," he answered monotonously. 

"How much?"

"A thousand."

"And?"

"Is 1,000 not enough for you?" he barked.

"If it's coming all the way to me," you raised a brow, "it better be more than that."

You were the unspoken third in command, if not second to some members. 

The Breton shook his head, now scowling.

"You can't steal from a thief, Guildmaster," you raised a brow. "Now if you'd excuse me, I have a bed that is calling my name."

Abruptly he moved to let you pass, face schooled into complete disinterest. Oh, but you knew better.

His fist was clenched so hard it turned white.

Mercer didn't like that.

He didn't like that one bit.

Not only had you dissed of the Guildmaster, but you'd rejected Brynjolf entirely. 

Two birds with one stone.

Hopefully, they wouldn't be back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry it's short!

Part 2?

Other requests?

Dani out,

Adieu!