The Skyrim Pirates (A Skyrim Fanfiction)

Chapter 12

12.

Getting to the cells was easy – no one acknowledged me, and the guard at the door grunted and let me through.

Jolgar was sat on the hard wooden bed inside his tiny cell. The bed took up most of the room, and there was a bucket in the far corner – no guesses for what that was for. When he saw me he leapt up and rushed to the door, clutching the bars.

“Viv. You’re ok.”

“I’m fine,” I said dismissively, coming closer, “How are you?”

“At the moment? I’m alright.”

“I – I can’t get you out Jolgar. I’m sorry. If I try and free you then Mercer will hunt us both down. You’ll just have to bear with me for a while,” I said apologetically, watching him with concern.

“I trust you,” He said seriously, and I smiled slightly.

“Good. That makes things easier.”

“But I don’t understand what you’re trying to accomplish here. Are you going to stabMercerin the back? Or were you being serious about wanting to be part of this … guild?”

I crossed my arms, a well-known sign of my annoyance.

“Of course I wasn’t being serious,” I lied for his benefit, and relief crossed his face.

“Oh. You had me worried there.”

“I just need to gain the guild’s trust before I act against them. That’ll take a while.”

“I can wait for you,” Jolgar said simply.

I sighed and leaned against his door.

“I can’t believe everything went so wrong. How many people died? And what happened to Sprig?” My eyes filled with sudden tears as I thought of my precious dog. Now she was gone.

“I’m sure Sprig’s fine. She’s a war-dog after all,” Jolgar said comfortingly.

“Maybe if I had got to the Tower quicker-”

“There was nothing you could have done to stop the bandits from killing the soldiers,” He said, so bluntly that I believed him.

We talked for a while longer before I had to leave him, and I slept fitfully.

When I woke up at dawn the next morning, it was due to someone’s heavy fist pounding on my door. If they had known me well, they’d know never to wake me up early.

Growling, I leapt up off my bed and pulled the door open so violently that I was surprised the old door didn’t fall off its hinges.

“What?”

It was Gudlin, and he grinned at my anger. I noticed his eyes look me up and down, and I was painfully aware that I was wearing a light fabric top that had a low neckline, and the leather leggings I wore were fairly tight.

“My eyes are here,” I snarled, pointing at my face, and he looked up reluctantly. I rolled me eyes, feeling disgusted. Gods, some men had no manners.

“The Chief wants to you to come up to his room as soon as possible.”

“Fine.”

I slammed the door in his face, feeling the sudden need bathe.

I put my armour back on from the day before, and I had washed off most of the blood. I treaded lightly as I passed the other rooms, not wishing to wake anyone up. At least I had some manners. It pained me to think that I was the only woman in the Guild.

I rapped on Mercer’s door before opening it. He was sat at a table, and he gestured to the seat opposite him. With reluctance, I sat down, still not sure whether to trust him. Skyrim was an unforgiving place, and trust was very hard to come by.  

“Good morrow Vivian. I hope you slept well?”

“I’ve slept in worse places,” I said truthfully, thinking back to Riverwood, and Mercer smiled.

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because the Dragonborn goes where the wind takes her?”

“You mean where the action takes her.”

I flashed a grin and settled back. This reminded me of when Mercer was the Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild. Although cold and distant, and sometimes down-right rude, he had never failed to rival my sarcasm, which had made me like him. Well, before he tried to kill me anyway.

“Same difference,” I said flippantly.

He shuffled some papers on his desk, and then looked up at me seriously.

Here we go.

“I think that our next move should be to strike at the heart of the Guild, meaning its members. Any ideas how we could do this?”

I pondered several different possibilities, and then a small smile crept across my face as I thought of something. It was an evil and horrible idea, but the thought of revenge was too sweet. The nice, caring, forgiving Dragonborn was long gone, and replaced with a cold, killing, merciless Dovahkiin.  

“What are you thinking?” Mercer asked me with a gleam in his eyes.

“I was just thinking about Vex’s wedding. It’ll be this Sundas, at midday. The entire guild will be there.”

Mercer, looking slightly taken aback by new found wickedness, and then suddenly grinned.

“Excellent. I knew you wouldn’t let me down Viv. I wonder what would happen if the bride was killed, right in front of them at her own wedding?”

I felt a tiny pang, but my darker side dismissed it. This was for the greater good … sort of.

“So who’s Vex marrying?” Mercer asked absently as he scribbled some notes down on a piece of parchment, no doubt conjuring up a plan.

“Delvin.”

Mercer’s quill stopped, and he looked up at me with his mouth practically hanging open, completely gobsmacked. I smiled bitterly.

“Yeah, I had that reaction too.”

“Vex … and Delvin?”

“Yes.”

“By the Gods.”

“I know.”

He shook his head, smiling slightly.

“That old dog. I can’t believe his patience won out.”

“I don’t think anyone expected that,” I grinned, laughing.

“I know I didn’t.”

We were silent once more as Mercer continued his writing.

“Who are we going to kill then?” I asked finally.

“Vex and … hmm,” Mercer frowned, trying to decide.

“How about Karliah?” I asked, unable to help the eagerness that crept into my voice.

“No, not yet. I have something special planned for her,” He smiled impishly, and I shrugged.

“Fine, who then?”

“Brynjolf.”