Author's Note:
I hope you'll all enjoy this chapter :) I've been looking forward to sharing this one for a while. It's a little detour but it aligns with the current plot time-wise. Aaand I'm not gonna spoil anything more :D
Thank you all for reading and hopefully enjoying :3
Chapter XXXVI – The One That Got Away With It
He paced back and forth around the small space behind his opulent desk.
He was getting impatient. How long did it fucking take to get some information from a weak spineless traitor? He should have done the interrogation himself. That fucker would have cracked within a second and he would have spilled every little detail about that bitch and her operations.
After a few more steps, he sat down in his high-back chair instead with a frustrated huff.
He needed good news. He couldn't remember the last time when he got any. Ravyn was dead, Fronis's smuggler gang near Winterhold was decimated and Lost Knife was attacked yet again. They have persevered, but there were losses. Losses that he couldn't afford right now – not with that fucking bitch hounding his every step. At least he managed to take back Maven from her during the first attack on the bandits, but now that old bag has taken away her funding away again, all because of those fucking dragons!
At least their precious Dragonborn got what was coming to her for meddling. Not enough. He wished that Thorn had shown her what it really meant to mess with the Guild, but that fucking idiot got himself killed all too soon.
Everyone around him was incompetent. They didn't know what was at stake. They didn't know what he was keeping them safe from.
"Boss?" Niruin approached his desk tentatively. There was obvious fear in his eyes. Good, he should be afraid when he was addressing him. If Thorn wasn't around to fill that role, Mercer needed to try all the more to get back the respect that he needed from them. But… the fear had also meant something else. Niruin had bad news.
"Did you get something out of him?" Mercer growled impatiently. He didn't have Thrynn tortured for information back when he found out about his treason. No… he needed him to think that Mercer could be on his side. He needed to send that bitch a message. But no traitor would get away from him. Ever again.
Thrynn had known exactly about one safehouse… well… aside from the Honningbrew Meadery. But Mercer had known about that one for a while now as well. He'd even had the proprietor tortured, but the sap didn't know anything much useful. He did know that Karliah wasn't at the meadery much, unfortunately, and Mercer knew damn fucking well how careful she was – no plans left behind to uncover, no hints of her activities anywhere but on her person. She was infuriatingly meticulous.
In any case, since Thrynn knew about that one safehouse near Shor's Stone, Mercer made sure that he was 'imprisoned' somewhere nearby, just so that he would be taken into that house afterwards. Thrynn seemed pretty confident of this too. Orchestrating the ambush was a trivial matter after that. Mercer just wished that it had turned out differently. One thing he did get from Thrynn right away, after he had him promptly captured again, was that it was in fact Bishop who had rescued him. There was a brief moment of unbridled joy when Mercer thought about Bishop being the one caught in the ambush. Until his men never came back. He had the safehouse investigated and the reports said that everyone was dead. Everyone besides Bishop.
How did that fucker get away from them?!
Thrynn was being held and tortured at a secure location ever since. But he was surprisingly tight-lipped. It was… somewhat understandable. Thrynn actually believed Mercer. He believed all of it – that he would get to escape, that he would get to be free. What a fool he was. No one was free. Not ever. Not in this world. But Thrynn was adamant now – he knew that he was going to die. And the only reason he had to divulge any secrets was to escape the pain.
Thorn's men had always been frustratingly used to withstanding torture. Thrynn had gone through the same training as all of them before he sought refuge in the Guild. He was trained by the best, forced to withstand torture, pain, brutal training, all to meet Thorn's standards. It made him and all the fucking bandits infuriatingly competent, including Bishop, judging from the massacre at the safehouse. It was good while all of them were on Mercer's side, but that was no longer the case.
That was likely why Niruin looked so forlorn. He was probably not able to get new information no matter the pain they caused him.
Thrynn had confessed two days ago that Raven was one of the people working with Karliah. Fucking Raven. Mercer should have known that he would worm his way into his life again. He should have killed him outright, but the idea of the silver-tongued jackass struggling without the only thing that had actually made him useful filled him with untold satisfaction.
In any case, Thrynn didn't say anything else useful ever since. Well… nothing that Mercer didn't know already. But he clearly had more to tell. And he would.
"Yes, boss. We… found out some things. First of all…" Niruin took a deep breath. Mercer didn't expect him to actually have anything new to tell, but it only meant one thing. This was going to be the bad news. "There was another traitor. Sapphire."
"'Was'?" Mercer raised his brow at him. Niruin had better not have taken care of her already! Mercer wanted to make that bitch squeal, just like he did Thrynn. They would pine for the days when they suffered Thorn's tortures when Mercer was done with them. They would both tell him everything about Karliah and her plans. He would not allow her to ruin the Guild again. He would not allow her to bring her twisted views and zealotry back into the thing that he had worked so hard to build.
"She's gone, boss. Escaped. We… we believe that because Bishop survived, they've had enough time to take precautions about anything that Thrynn might have known. To… prevent… this," Niruin sighed.
Of course they would! Thrynn held out for too long and now Sapphire was probably 'safe' with Karliah. But nobody was 'safe' with that bitch. She would do to all of them what she had done to Gallus.
"What else?" Mercer growled through gritted teeth.
"W-well… we found out about the operation in Falkreath…" Niruin continued nervously.
"I already know what happened in Falkreath, dipshit! It. Already. Happened! I need to know what she's planning now!" Mercer stood up from his chair abruptly as he yelled at the elf. This was useless! He knew exactly what happened in Falkreath – he lost his army. All those bandits under Thorn's thumb, available to his back and call, all of them snuffed out, just like that!
He should have seen this coming. He should have known that Karliah wouldn't leave well enough alone. But he was naïve. He didn't suspect a thing for years, leaving her the time to build up her network, to gather allies and spies. He should have been more alert, but any other upstart underworld group that he had ever heard of seemed beneath his notice – they came and went, rose up one day and fell the other. If he had paid more attention to all of it, he could have weeded out the patterns, the alliances, the secrets.
But he had his hands full with keeping the Guild up from crumbling.
It had been an uphill battle ever since Gallus died.
That fucking bitch ruined everything.
He and Gallus… they've had a good thing going. Gallus led the Guild to prosperity with Mercer as his right hand. He was the face – the kind and understanding one, the shrewd one. He was the one that everyone wanted to ally themselves with, the one that they were all happy to obey and rally behind. And while he did all that, he let Mercer take care of all the dirty work. The work which the members weren't supposed to know about, except for the select few who were under Mercer's command. He did what was necessary to keep the Guild afloat. And he didn't mind. It worked. He and Gallus understood this, they both knew what was needed. People needed Gallus to inspire them and they needed Mercer to work in the shadows to keep things cushy for them, even if they didn't realize it.
Everything was going so well back then.
Mercer had never needed a lot of people around him, but he needed someone he could trust. No matter what, everyone needed that. Life would have been unbearable if he had to watch his back around everyone constantly. Like he did now. He was more jaded now, he knew that there was no other way than to carry on through this, but back then, he had Gallus. A trusted friend. A confidant.
They were inseparable.
Until she came along.
At first, Karliah was just another Guild member. She was skilled, a little too skilled perhaps, but there was nothing strange about that. She gained their favor swiftly with how capable she was. And soon enough, she started to be in on the majority of the operations.
It was right then when she started to spew her zealous religious shit. About Nocturnal, about how thieves needed her favor just to exist. How they needed to follow her teachings. It was laughable, and laugh they did. Both him and Gallus. She was ridiculous. As if they needed some 'higher power' to do what they had been doing until then with no fucking intervention. As if they needed help from a Daedra of all things. It was a despicable notion.
Never make deals with those more powerful than you – that was the rule when they were on the top. And dealing with Daedra – that just spelled trouble.
Gallus had always been pragmatic. He didn't buy into any of this idealist crap, but that was all before that whore started spreading her legs for him.
Mercer had noticed the subtle changes. Whenever he laughed at Karliah's yapping, Gallus got a little more withdrawn. He still reassured Mercer that he didn't believe any of that Nocturnal crap, but Mercer could feel him pulling away.
And then the day had come. Gallus's 'little Nightingale' shared a secret with the two of them. They'd already known that she was adamant about spewing her beliefs to anyone who would listen, but this all went beyond that. She started talking about the Nightingales – an ancient order of Nocturnal's followers, all serving the Daedra with their every action. All with their souls bound for eternity to guard the Ebonmere – the portal into Nocturnal's realm Evergloam. The gall of that bitch! She wanted them to become Nightingales alongside her, to bind their souls to a Daedra forever.
To guard the Skeleton Key.
Mercer and Gallus had a private meeting that day and Gallus came up with a shrewd plan. He always had a plan. And it was a good one.
They would comply with Karliah's wishes. They would sell themselves, all for one thing.
The Skeleton Key.
With that the Guild would have been unstoppable. What was a deal with a Daedra in the face of that? And Gallus was cunning. He knew that there was a way to get out of this deal when they needed to. He had vast knowledge of the Daedra from his College days. He knew how to deal with them and he knew how to trick them. He coaxed the lesser Daedra on a daily basis back at the College. And Mercer believed him.
This was their greatest heist ever. Their greatest scheme. Even the Eyes of the Falmer that Mercer had been tracking down paled in comparison to this.
They would steal from a Daedric Prince.
You could not make that shit up. They would have become living legends for this.
Mercer agreed readily. He was so glad that he hadn't lost his closest friend to Karliah's bullshit. Gallus was still there, plotting and scheming. He was playing nice, laying honey around Karliah's mouth, all to get her secrets. All to find the treasures of Nocturnal.
How naïve.
Gallus had never actually told Mercer how he intended to trick Nocturnal, and Mercer didn't need to know. He trusted him. He trusted him to make everything right after the deed was done.
And so he followed, blindly, after Gallus, after Karliah, swearing his soul for eternity in the Twilight Sepulcher.
The Key… it was glorious. It was a legend that they had all known for a long time – a key that could open anything. A door without a lock, ancient Dwemer mechanism, Ayleid vaults, it all lay at their feet.
And then it happened.
Gallus revealed his plan.
And it was not the plan that Mercer was hoping for.
He started to talk about gaining more followers, about turning the Guild members all into Nightingales. They could gain Nocturnal's blessings, all just in exchange for that one small favor – their eternity.
Mercer didn't understand at first. What happened to their heist? What happened to betraying Nocturnal?
But as it turned out, he was the one who got betrayed. He was the one who had been lied to.
His soul was bound to guard the Ebonmere for eternity… irrevocably. To a fucking Daedra! To a despicable traitorous… creature.
And Gallus wanted to inflict the same fate on the rest of the Guild. All because Karliah convinced him that it was the right thing to do.
Mercer would not allow this. They have worked hard to pull the Guild up on top together. They have shed sweat and blood together to make it into the most successful and profitable underworld organization that Skyrim had ever known. And for those efforts, those that toiled and tried alongside them would get betrayed?
And they would follow Gallus. All of them would. They all trusted him with their lives, with their souls, just like Mercer had.
Mercer had to save them. He may not have trusted all of them, he might have not liked all of them, but he would be damned, if loyal men got rewarded with this.
And he would be damned if he did some fucking Daedra's dirty work.
There was only one way to end it. Only one way to save them.
Gallus had to die.
Karliah had to die.
If his soul was doomed, so be it. At least he would have his revenge. At least he would have justice. Let them taste their own poison! Let them stew in the Sepulcher for eternity, just like they wanted. The Key was at his reach, and with it, he could ensure that the Guild would continue to prosper, even without Gallus.
It was the only way.
And he was forced to put down his dearest, oldest friend like the mad raving dog that he had become.
Karliah escaped, but at least he managed to steal the Skeleton Key. She was going to pay for what she had done but… then she just disappeared off the face of Nirn.
The Guild members believed Mercer when he told them that Karliah had betrayed them to kill Gallus. They didn't know her as well as they could have – she concentrated all her efforts on corrupting Gallus and she had never gained that many allies in the Guild. Some of them were skeptical, sure, but they had no choice but to toe the line.
They may have thought that Mercer was getting away with their Guildmaster's murder.
But they were wrong.
She was the one that got away with it.
But since there was no sign of her anywhere, there was only one thing to concentrate on back then. It was up to Mercer to keep the Guild afloat.
It was… harder than Gallus had made it look.
Whatever Gallus had that inspired people, whatever he had that made them fall in line, Mercer didn't have that. He had been operating in secret from the shadows for years. Most of the members didn't even know what kind of work he had been doing for Gallus. And now, when he had the Guild to contend with, that kind of work had to be laid bare, to be taken care of by the people under him. And they did not like that.
But it was necessary. It was necessary to keep the Guild on top. With Gallus gone, a lot of their alliances fell through and Mercer was forced to make new ones. And after the events at the Sepulcher and after all his failures with the Guild, he had learnt an important lesson.
It wasn't kindness or cunning that he needed to keep people in line. How well did it serve Gallus when he got duped by the first whore who had the guts to try and trick him? How well did sympathy for Gallus's lover work for Mercer? He should have slit her throat the minute that she started to spew that religious shit. Being sincere about his endeavors didn't do Mercer any favors with getting the Guild to cooperate.
No… he needed one thing and one thing only.
Fear.
Fear was why Karliah did Nocturnal's bidding. She hid it under a thin veil of devotion but Mercer saw right through that. He saw her face when she talked to the apparition of Nocturnal back at the Sepulcher. She was terrified. She was terrified of what the Daedra would do to her if Karliah failed in gaining her more supporters.
Mercer needed to wield that fear.
And eventually… he met Thorn.
He was one of the most despicable, twisted people that Mercer had ever seen, perhaps save for Karliah. But it worked wonders. His bandits cowered in fear, they did anything that he asked of them. And then, they learned his ways. They followed in blind devotion because the life that he offered them ensured their safety from the abuse. They turned into abusers in return and unless you toed the line, you were at their mercy.
That was what Mercer needed.
Oh how they cowered when he sent the first traitor to Thorn. The word spread like wildfire – of how that traitorous whore who sold the Guild's secrets about their operations in Markarth to the Jarl ended up. Tortured and raped to death by Thorn and his men. Nobody dared to say a word. Nobody dared to defy him again.
In time, some of them got uppity again. Raven, Bishop… but they all learned their lesson. He had the perfect system going with Thorn. He would take some of the bandits in, offering them the illusion of a sanctuary. Thorn allowed this, merely because he knew that they would be sent back eventually. And they always were. These were the people who couldn't stand Thorn's methods and it was inevitable that they would have a problem with Mercer's own too. They were used on the worst, most violent and vicious jobs after all. It was reasonable – they had Thorn's training. They could handle it. But they did not like it. So they were punished when they finally got the guts to misbehave.
Thorn worked wonders for the Guild. In time, Mercer didn't have to worry about keeping them happy with money. Now they were kept in fear and it was enough.
He could do whatever he wanted – with the money, with the Key. And why the fuck wouldn't he?! What else was there to do than enjoy his life while he could? There was nothing pleasant waiting for him in death after all – only eternal servitude to a monster that he despised with his very being.
He had been betrayed constantly. He had to watch his back constantly. He might as well get some fucking comfort in life with whatever means that he could.
And now… Thorn was dead. And Mercer needed that fear back. Without it, they would kill him. They would send him towards his eternity of misery. Anything but that!
He knew why Karliah was still after him. It wasn't revenge, it wasn't some warped desire to get the Guild back to its former glory. No… she wanted him dead. Dead and serving. And she wanted the chance to gain more followers to her cult in the Guild.
Those that had turned on him, her 'allies', they would all be betrayed, just like he and Gallus were.
A disturbing smile spread across Mercer's lips when he started to imagine that. Raven would want to scream, even though he was no longer able to. He had so many fucking ideals about honorable thieves and shit from storybooks. Mercer would give anything to be there when he found out that his new object of devotion was a fucking Daedra worshipper.
And Bishop… that man would not stand to bow down to anyone. How was she going to convince that fucking rebellious upstart to sell his fucking soul for eternity?
And the Dragonborn. The fucking religious Dragonborn raised in a temple of Stendarr. She was working for a cultist this entire time and she didn't even know this. If she got even a whiff of that with her Stendarrite education and training, she would probably smite that Dunmer whore right where she stood.
If only they knew. If only they knew who they were dealing with. Karliah would have been dead already.
None of them would bow to her.
None of them would forgive her.
And yet… she persisted. Blinded by her faith in her ignorant, brainwashed state.
She would get what was coming to her the second she revealed her true nature.
But she would never risk it, not before Mercer was where he belonged – a ghost, forever trapped in the Sepulcher.
He had to do everything to prevent that. Even if it made her a martyr, he would not go to his death willingly. She would go first.
She thought that she suffered after Gallus had died and after she had been forced on the run? She'd seen nothing yet. She had never suffered like Mercer had. And he would make sure that she would before she got trapped in her precious eternal servitude.
"Mercer, did you hear the rumors?" Brynjolf suddenly interrupted Mercer's ruminations. Niruin was long gone now. He didn't even notice. Well… it was not like the elf had anything more useful to tell him anyway.
"What rumors?" Mercer raised his brow at the Nord. Maybe it was finally something useful to him.
"Sibbi Black-Briar is missing. Maven is having the whole town and the area around searched for him. They might even have to use the hounds on this one. Nobody knows what happened to him," Brynjolf nodded at him with barely enough interest.
He was right to be disinterested. Mercer was disinterested too. Why the fuck would he care about Maven's spoiled brat? All of them were just little entitled shits who had made demand after demand from him in the past. That was one part of his alliance with Maven that Mercer did not miss. And Sibbi was the worst. It was so blessedly quiet when he had been imprisoned for show.
He deserved whatever he got, that spoiled little shit.
"Hope he stays missing," Mercer snorted.
He had other things to concern himself with now anyway.
His plan was already in motion and it was going great. They thought that they were subtle? The Dragonborn suddenly buying a house in the city. It was either a recon effort or a ploy to infiltrate the nobility to learn about his contractors.
Whatever the case, it played right into his cards.
Soon, he would get what he needed. Soon, his plan would unfold and the years of chasing legends would finally pay off.
He would come out on top again.
He would be free again.
And with luck, he would get rid of his enemies in the process.