"Brynjolf!"

The Ragged Flagon fell dead silent as the voice of their Guildmaster echoed clearly, the walls shaking subtly. A few people jumped, startled at the sound, one tankard falling to floor. The Guildmaster was typically quiet, or at the very least not threatening to shout down the Ratway.

A beat of silence permeated the air before she called again, louder and sharper this time. "Brynjolf!"

Every guild member in ear shot (read: every guild member) snuck down the halls until they found the Guildmaster right as she seemed to have found Brynjolf.

"Sorry lass, I've got importan-"

"Don't even start with me. You can do important things on your own time, do I make myself clear?"

Vex grinned, a hoard of thieves behind her less than subtly eavesdropping.

"Oh, this is gonna be good."

"Ten Septims says they finally fuck."

A heavy sigh. "What is all this about, lass?"

What sounded disturbingly like a growl pierced the momentary silence. "Samuel told me about your little conversation you had with him in the market place."

"What about it, lass? Ain't nothing wrong with looking out for the future of the Guild."

"Yes, yes there is! When it's my son? Brynjolf, you leave him alone!"

"Lass, you're not making any sense; you don't want your son in the Guild?"

"Niid! No!"

Well this conversation certainly wasn't going where the eavesdropping thieves had thought it was going to.

"Don't tell me the son of the Guildmaster is too good for the Thieves Guild now, is he?"

"Damn it Brynjolf, I don't need you grooming him to be your next protégé!"

"You didn't turn out so bad. When you're not over reacting."

"Now he's done it."

A hoard of angry dragons would have fallen dead at the glare the Guildmaster gave her Second-In-Command.

"Brynjolf, gods damn it, I am not over reacting! The boy's ten! I don't want him stuck in this Gods forsaken city for the rest of his life!"

"Now see her-"

"You tell me right now you wouldn't move the Guild if you could. Right. Now. Because I can't afford to move my own kid right now, let alone an entire Guild."

"Lass, don't you think you're o-"

"Don't you say it. Not one word to him, Brynjolf, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, lass."

"Don't roll your eyes at me."

"Yes, Mother."

"Not a single fuck given; You owe me ten Septims."