A/N: For reasons even I don't understand, I'm on a Mercer kick right now. There are going to be a few chapters of his misadventures with the Black-Briars. I hope you enjoy and please feel free to leave feedback!

"Good to see you back on your feet again, boss," Delvin Mallory snickered.

Mercer Frey had just entered the Ragged Flagon, his usual sneer already in place. It had been two months since his "adventure" with Maven and his hip had finally healed enough that he had returned to his duties as Guildmaster. Now, if only if his hip didn't twinge when it was going to rain, he could forget the whole sordid ordeal.

"Shut up, Mallory," Mercer snapped. Most the Guild knew better than to tease their Guildmaster. He could assign them in Morthal or Falkreath for some useless burglary jobs or maybe something even worse if the mood struck him.

Delvin seemed to think he was outside of Mercer's sphere of influence since he was one of the permanent fences in the Cistern and their best contact man. He knew who needed what and when. That didn't mean Mercer was going to turn a blind eye to any snark from the man.

"Where's Brynjolf?" Mercer growled.

"Out with his new protégé," the other Breton shrugged. "Probably going to be a while since Bryn had a huge bag of his Falmer Elixir and poor new kid was the one stuck carrying it."

Mercer sighed as he rubbed his forehead. How was he supposed to get anything done if his second in command was out roaming around the countryside? Bastard was constantly finding new protégés and promising, "This will be the one, Merc. I just know it. This one will help turn the Guild around." Usually, the unfortunate fool just ended up dead on a botched job or, if they were lucky, stuck in jail for a fortnight.

"A job came in from Maven," Mercer said, looking around the Flagon to see if there was anyone in this sorry group he could trust with this mission. "We need someone to go sabotage Goldenglow Estate, set some hives on fire and clear out their safe to teach them a lesson. Apparently, they've decided that they don't want to deal with the Black-Briars anymore."

"I can't," Delvin said. "I'm waiting for a numbers job to get back."

"I'll go," Vex volunteered. "This sounds like something that requires…a woman's touch."

Mercer didn't care for that sly look the blonde gave him as she left or the snickers of the Flagon's regulars. Surely Brynjolf hadn't told anyone what had happened. The Nord knew better than go to flapping his lips lest he wake up without any.

Mercer shrugged. Maybe he was just being twitchy after being out of action for so long. Granted, his paranoia had kept him alive much longer than his enemies would have liked, but everyone wasn't always out to get him.

Well, not always. Just most of the time.

"I'm going out," Mercer said. "Gods know I could use some fresh air."

Brynjolf, gods curse his addled brain, had brought Mercer back to the Cistern for his sabbatical. Why the fool Nord hadn't just left him at his much more pleasant Riftweald Manor was a mystery to Mercer. So, not only had Mercer been stuck in bed for the last two months, he had to endure it in the Ratway.

That place might be good enough for the rest of the Guild, but as Guildmaster Mercer had certain privileges and he planned to use them whenever they were relevant. And staying in his own home in his own bed while recovering from his… "injuries" definitely qualified.

It had been too long since Mercer had any ill-gotten gold in his hands. He decided that he would head down to Elgrim's Elixirs. Old Elgrim was always compliant unlike some of the other businesses in town when it came to paying for Guild protection. Haelga had been whispering more than sweet nothings in certain ears and now the Guild was forced to deal with several stores refusing to pay their fees. It might be fun to rough a few of them up to send a message later, but first Mercer wanted to stretch his muscles before doing anything too strenuous.

The alchemist's shop was dismally dark after the bright sun shine. Mercer paused, waiting for his night vision to come back. "Elgrim," he called, "it's Mercer. I'm here for your rent."

"He's out," a young female voice said from the shadows. Mercer squinted. "Hafjorg dragged him down to Shor's Stone for a delivery. She said he needed to get out more."

"Who's there?" Mercer growled, reaching for his dwarven sword. None of the thieves had been assigned for any jobs here, so he had no idea why someone would be lurking around in the dark.

When the woman stepped forward, Mercer relaxed slightly. It was only Maven's daughter, Ingun. He didn't know much about her other than she didn't get along with her mother very well, which was enough in Mercer's book.

"If you're interested in buying more stamina potions, I'm afraid that we currently don't have any in stock," the young Nord smirked. "And I don't have the key to Hafjorg's private stash from the Hag's Cure, so I can't help you there."

"Haha, very funny, girl. So, are you an alchemist now?" Mercer sneered as he leaned against the counter. "Not gonna be Momma's heir?"

Ingun sniffed in disdain as she came from around the counter. "I have absolutely no interest in my mother's 'business'. Let one of my brothers deal with it instead."

"Good luck with that, given that Sibbi is currently cooling his heels in the Mistveil prison," Mercer said. The scent of lavender wafted to his nose. It was strong enough to be noticeable in the dank store, but not so powerful to be overwhelming. A useful side effect of being an alchemist's apprentice, he supposed.

"Hmph, Sibbi is currently living better than most of Skyrim. Once Mother feels that he has learned his lesson, he'll be released and will scurry back home." Ingun placed her hands on Mercer's chest and rubbed the black leather of his armor. When had she gotten so close?

"You're touching me," Mercer said, darkly. He didn't normally allow people to get close to him and he definitely didn't like people touching him. He had personal space issues. In that people in his personal space usually ended up with a knife in their ribs.

"I am," Ingun said, looking him in the eyes unabashedly. Mercer noticed that she was the same height as he was. Damn Nords and their ridiculous height. She leaned closer so that her face was only inches from his. "Is that a problem?"

"It could be," Mercer said, using his best intimidating voice. It had been known to make initiates wet themselves. It, however, seemed to have no effect on the younger Black-Briar.

"What's wrong with your eyes?" Mercer asked. He grabbed the younger woman by her chin and tilted her so he could get a better look. Normally, Ingun's eyes were a very light blue, almost like the sheen of ice melting in the morning sun. Today they were so dark as to be black. Closer inspection revealed that her pupils were so dilated her irises were barely visible.

"Oh, that," Ingun tittered. "I figured since Elgrim and Hafjorg were out that I would try some of my new potions. A minor side effect, I assure you."

Mercer tried to refrain from rolling his eyes. Was he surrounded by fools? "You don't experiment with strange chemicals alone, girl," he snapped. Not that he cared, but he definitely didn't want to be the last person seen with Maven's daughter alive if her potion went wrong.

"It's nothing dangerous," Ingun said coyly. Her hands were flitting around Mercer's hips, playing with the many buckles and plucking at the leather. "Besides, it's the only way I'm going to learn. I worry Elgrim babies me because of my natural talent." Ingun shrugged. "I'm someplace safe and I know what ingredients are poisonous from previous experiments." She grinned wickedly. "And I know I don't have to worry about anyone dangerous coming in since you're already here."

"Girl, I'm old enough to be your father," Mercer snorted, although he did revel in the compliment.

"Never had a daddy," Ingun murmured, "so I wouldn't know what they're like."

"So you're looking to get one now?" Mercer asked suggestively.

Imagine his shock, when Ingun merely leaned back so she could cover her mouth with one hand while she laughed. "Oh, Mercer, you are priceless. Just like Mother said." The younger Black-Briar fluttered her eyes prettily. "I know you wouldn't dare do anything to me. The Thieves' Guild is too far in Mother's pocket for you to even consider it."

"And just what did your mother say about me?" Mercer asked, his eyes narrowing. He grabbed Ingun's arms and shook her slightly.

"To me? Nothing," Ingun said, that annoying smile never leaving her lips. "However, I overheard her talking to Maul. She talks to him quite a bit since he's her personal bodyguard. It's important for him to know whose knees he can break and whose he cannot."

"And?" Dammit, if Maul knew, that meant Dirge knew. Which in turn meant the whole Guild knew since the moron couldn't keep his mouth closed if he sewed it shut.

"And you're on the no broken knees list," Ingun said. "And, it seems you made quite an impression on her."

"A little hard to tell given her lack of reaction," Mercer muttered.

"Mother just likes to play her cards close to her chest," Ingun reassured him. She patted his shoulder reassuringly, but her touch lingered. "But enough talk about her. I'd rather talk about something else."

"Like what?" Mercer asked, bored. If Elgrim wasn't here with his rent, Mercer would rather get out of this dank, miserable store. Maybe go up to the Bee and Barb and see if he could find Maul so he could ply the man with liquor until he spilled his guts about Maven's secrets.

"How I want you to fuck me."

"Whoa, what?" Mercer asked, blinking in surprise. He definitely had not been expecting that.

"I want you to fuck me," Ingun repeated slowly. Her arms snaked around the Breton's body, tightening into an embrace.

Mercer suddenly was aware of exactly how much of Ingun was pressed against his body. He had to admit that she was a pretty young woman, barely into her twenties. It was easy to tell that she was Maven's daughter; the two women had similar physical traits although Maven would never be described as more than handsome nowadays.

Why in Oblivion are you thinking about Maven Black-Briar when her much younger, hotter daughter is here and prepositioning you? he mentally berated himself.

Most men, given this situation with a much younger woman, clearly drugged and the daughter of one of the most influential families in the country, would have sadly said "No, thank you" and left. Some would have done it out of a sense of honor, some would have done it out a sense of morality, and most would have done it out of a basic survival instinct that involved being scared shitless of incurring Maven Black-Briar's wrath.

Mercer was not like any of these men.

It had been two long months of recovery. Not only had Mercer been forced into celibacy, he couldn't even indulge in self-pleasure given the state of his hips. He was pent up, and there was no way he was going to turn his back on this young thing who was practically begging for his cock inside her. No thief worth his salt walked away from an easy score.

Mercer slammed Ingun against the counter and growled into her ear, "I think I like this topic much better."

"I thought you would," Ingun replied as she licked his ear.

Mercer lifted Ingun until she was sitting on the counter. With one hand he flipped up her skirt, while his other drew his dagger. Two quick swipes and her small clothes were little more than scraps on the floor.

The thief wrapped his hand around one shapely thigh as he ran his tongue down it. Ingun was already gloriously wet and he could smell her arousal as he pulled her other leg over his shoulder. Mercer's pants were getting painfully tight as he pressed his tongue against Ingun's clit and she cried out his name.

Mercer quickly stood up and jerked on the buckles on his pants until he was able to pull free. He was not in the mood for foreplay and clearly his partner didn't need it.

Ingun looked up and a smile crossed her lips when she saw Mercer's erection. "Oh my," she murmured. "I think I can see why Mother has taken a liking to you."

"Shut up," Mercer hissed as he grabbed Ingun's hips and jerked her to the edge of the counter. "We were going to discuss other matters."

Ingun barely had time to wrap her legs around Mercer's hips before he slammed into her fully. Her cries of pleasure were enough to drive him to slam into her harder against the counter top while his hands wrapped around her hair and jerked her head back.

Once her neck was exposed, Mercer buried his face in the crook, enjoying the taste of her skin as he nibbled the flesh. She smelled of her perfume, but there was also an underlying scent of deathbells and nightshade. Dangerous plants for a dangerous woman.

"Mercer!" Ingun cried over and over. "Oh gods!"

Mercer leaned back far enough to pull Ingun's ties loose to remove the top of her dress, revealing two high, perky breasts with pink nipples. Mercer ran one rough hand over one before taking it roughly in his mouth. The extra attention only drove Ingun wilder as she screamed his name.

His hands drifted down to her bottom to grab it and pull her closer to him as he drove into her. He didn't know how much longer he could last with how tight Ingun was, but it seemed to be a moot fact as he could feel her tightening around him already.

"Oh, Mercer," Ingun purred as she wrapped her hands into the buckles on his armor. She thrust forward just as he did and the moment threw the thief backwards so Ingun lifted off the counter and all her weight rested on him as he stumbled back against the wall.

For a horrifying moment, Mercer's hip twinged and he didn't think it was because of upcoming rain. The Breton gritted his teeth as he shifted to keep his pace while Ingun hung off him. Just a bit more…

Then Ingun was clenching around him, screaming louder than ever as her nails dug into his armor. She arched her back so her chest was thrust into his face. She bounced up and down wildly. Mercer felt himself release and suddenly his legs couldn't hold up any more.

The two slid down the wall into a sweat cover slump with Ingun more or less sprawled over Mercer.

"Oh gods," Ingun gasped. "I never thought about getting married, but something like that could change my mind."

"Ugh," Mercer moaned as he pushed the younger woman off him. "That is not going to happen with me. Ever."

"Don't worry. I wasn't talking about you," Ingun said as she pulled her clothes back into place, apparently unphased by Mercer's reaction. "Besides, even if I were interested, Mother has her marks all over you. You're practically hers, you know."

"Yeah, right," Mercer snorted as he cleaned himself off and straightened his own clothes. "I don't belong to anyone."

"That's not what she thinks," Ingun said, smiling wickedly.

"I don't give a fuck what Maven thinks," Mercer snapped. The thief stood suddenly, not bothering to offer a hand to Ingun to help her up. "You be sure to tell Elgrim that his rent is due!" With that the Guildmaster stomped out of the store.

Ingun leaned back, her smile still lingering on her face. She reached into her belt pouch and pulled out an eye dropper that she carefully used. She blinked a few times waiting for the solution to take effect. It was hard to see properly when her eyes were dilated, but it had been worth it to get Mercer's attention. She still couldn't believe Mercer had accepted the idea that she would carelessly test unknown potions on her own. He truly had a low opinion of others.

Maven constantly stuck her fingers into other people's business, her own children especially. The woman liked taking whatever she wanted when she wanted, regardless of how it affected other people's life. Ingun couldn't wait to see how the family matron was going to react when she found out what happened between Ingun and Mercer.

It would serve her right to have a dose of her own medicine after all.