The Skyrim Pirates (A Skyrim Fanfiction)

Chapter 10

10.

“Oh come on, now, Vivian. Is that any way to treat an old friend?” Mercer Frey asked, with a subtle threat in his eyes.

I shut my mouth with a snap, and watched him with wide eyes as I sank to my knees in utter disbelief.

“Didn’t you miss me?”He asked casually, sitting in a comfy-looking chair.

“You … I killed you! You can’t be here! You’re dead!” I screamed, shuffling backwards until my head hit the hard wooden door behind me.

Ralof was stirring, lying on the floor with his hands bound and blindfolded. Jolgar spun looked around blindly and someone had stuck a gag in his mouth so he tried in vain to say something.

“Well, obviously I’m not,” He said in his annoying sarcastic manner.

I looked at the Breton, not sure what to think.

“No, no, you’re dead. I saw you die!”

Mercer lounged in his chair as if it was a throne, and he looked down at me with a bored expression.

“Did you really think you could kill me after possessing the Skeleton Key for so long? That little bit of Daedric magic was more than an unbreakable lockpick. It contained such a power that I never even knew existed! I unlocked some of its potential, which included the power to stave off death,” Mercer said simply, looking at me as though I was dense.

“You … you can never die?” I asked, my heart sinking.

“Only when I wielded it could I keep away death and you rudely took it off me while I was temporarily dead,” He glowered at me, and I flinched under his harsh gaze.

Suddenly, he smiled again.

“How’s the guild doing? I assume you’re the Guildmaster now,” He continued, looking oddly interested.

I frowned as anger surging through me as I thought about the guild.

“No, not anymore,” I said quietly, and Mercer’s curiosity peaked as he leaned forward.

“Really? Why not? I was certain that Brynjolf would make you the head,” He said thoughtfully.

I couldn’t believe I was having a rational conversation with a man whom I had thought dead five minutes ago, but I felt myself almost wanting to tell someone about what had happened with the Guild.

“He did … and then kicked me out last week,” I mumbled, and Mercer laughed loudly.

“He kicked you out of the guild? Brynjolf’s little protégé? What in Nochturnal’s name did you?” He asked in surprise, wiping a tear of mirth away.

“Nothing,” I sniffed, and his eyes widened as something dawned on him.

“You were kicked out because of me, weren’t you?”

“Yes! If you hadn’t started this little band of thieves then Skyrim wouldn’t be slowly going poor, and the High King would never have ordered me to sort out this mess, just as Brynjolf did!” I fumed, much to his amusement.

“Let me guess, Brynjolf threw you out of the Thieves Guild because he found out you were working for Ulfric? I bet he thought you were a traitor,” Mercer guessed accurately, and I frowned.

“How did you know?” I inquired suspiciously, and a part of me was marvelling about how easy it was to sit and chat with a past enemy, let alone one I’d killed.

“Brynjolf, my friend, is as predictable as he is skilful,” Mercer said darkly.

“But to be fair to Bryn, it was more Karliah who persuaded him to kick me out,” I said angrily, and he stiffened