It had been too long since the Guild had brought in some real gold. Mercer Frey was beginning to feel more impatient as time passed and the newer members of the Guild were frequently being arrested or leaving altogether. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before the Guild dissolved and, what little cash-flow existed, dried up completely. Lately, an unknown adversary had been making themselves known by putting the squeeze on the Guild's finances.
There was word around the hold of a new mercenary from Whiterun who had slain a dragon at Whitewatch Tower. He was on his way to Riften and was expected to arrive by dawn, according to Mercer's sources. This would be the perfect opportunity to recruit new blood to their ranks and find out who was trying to destroy what was left of the Thieves Guild.
"Brynjolf!" Mercer called from his desk in the cistern.
"Yes, Mercer?" Brynjolf answered as he made his way over to Mercer's desk. "What's on your mind?"
"Don't you think it's about time we recruited some new talent?" Mercer's voice stayed low and quiet. "Why don't you come up with another one of your little "interviews" and begin aggressively recruiting anyone that walks through Riften's front gate? Starting at dawn." He growled.
"Aye, Mercer. I've just been trying to stay out of the guard's way lately, what with four of our newest members being arrested just last week. It's a crying shame, really. Such a waste of talent."
"If they possessed any real talent, they wouldn't have been caught in the first place." Mercer stated plainly. "I don't want any potential new recruits slipping through our fingers, do I make myself clear?"
"Perfectly clear, Mercer. You don't need to worry about a thing." Brynjolf turned to leave. He could feel the tension in the air lately, and Mercer seemed more on edge than usual. "Did you need anything…else, Mercer?" Brynjolf didn't turn around to receive a response.
Mercer looked up quickly at Brynjolf and remained silent for a moment. "Perhaps later." He mumbled quietly.
Though Mercer spent most of his nights wrapped in the arms of strange women, Brynjolf and Mercer had shared more than a few sleepless nights together. Brynjolf was someone Mercer could trust to be loyal and hold his tongue, qualities most people in Riften did not possess. It was only a matter of time before the Guild disbanded and Mercer would be able to make his getaway to the Imperial City. He hoped that Brynjolf could leave Skyrim behind when the time came, but first, he would have to see how the Guild's new recruit could handle some jobs even Vex couldn't pull off.
The next day, Brynjolf waited patiently in the cistern for the new recruit to arrive.
"So?" Mercer barked with a sly grin on his face," What's the hold up, Bryn? I thought you'd be able to pull off convincing some ignorant fool to join our little family."
"Aye, Mercer. I found a new lad who shows great promise. A Nord; didn't catch his name. He should be joining us here shortly. He pulled off quite a feat for a new blood in the marketplace. Snagged Madesi's ring from his strongbox and dropped it right in to Brand Shei's pocket. I was impressed." Brynjolf smiled, quite proud of himself.
"Right…" Mercer's voice trailed off. His thought's wandered to Goldenglow and some disturbing correspondence he had received. "Have you spoken with Vex? She never gave me an answer about that special job I had set up. She fucked it up last time, but I think I have a new plan that will work, and it involves cutting that shit-for-brains Aringoth's throat."
"Sounds like Dark Brotherhood territory, Mercer. Best to tread lightly on such matters. I'm sure there is another way to get into that safe of his." Brynjolf met Mercer's eyes for a moment. "We'll figure this out."
Mercer scoffed, "Brynjolf the righteous, always here to put me in my place." He said jokingly. Brynjolf smile and shook his head. Footsteps alerted Brynjolf and he looked up quickly.
"Ah, Lad! You made it." Brynjolf smiled. "Mercer? This is the one I was talking about...our new recruit."
Mercer eyed the odd-looking Nord for a moment, noting his bulky and muscular appearance not typically seen in their line of work. Was this the same man from Whiterun? "This better not be another waste of the Guild's resources, Brynjolf." He paused and grimaced. "Before we continue, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. If you play by the rules, you walk away rich. You break the rules and you lose your share. No debates, no discussion. You do what we say, when we say." Mercer looked at Brynjolf through the corner of his eye.
"Wait a moment" Brynjolf spoke hushed, "You're not talking about Goldenglow, are you? Even our little Vex couldn't get in."
"You claim this recruit possesses an aptitude for our line of work. If so, let him prove it." Mercer smirked smugly. "Goldenglow Estate is critically important to one of our largest clients. However, the owner has suddenly decided to take matters into his own hands and shut us out. He needs to be taught a lesson. Brynjolf will provide you with the details."
"Mercer, aren't you forgetting something?"
"Hmm? Oh, yes. Since Brynjolf assures me you'll be nothing but a benefit to us, then you're in. Welcome to the Thieves Guild." Mercer nearly rolled his eyes.
The new recruit was sent out promptly and Brynjolf approached Mercer's desk.
"What was that about?" Brynjolf placed both hands on the desk. "You asked me to get a new recruit and it was done. I'm trying my best here to make this work. I'm following your leadership." He nearly began to shout.
Mercer didn't immediately look up from his logbook. He glanced to the side and shook his head, scoffing. "I assure you Bryn, I am not displeased. I was expecting someone…different. You performed your task, as I had asked, and you will be rewarded appropriately." Their eyes met and there was a moment of silence until Mercer decided to smile smugly. Brynjolf huffed and rolled his eyes, pushing himself off of the desk.
"You really ought to stop messing with me like that, Mercer," Brynjolf stated plainly, before heading in the direction of the Ragged Flagon. He felt a firm grip on his upper arm and turned slightly. Their lips met in an aggressive and firm kiss and Mercer's hand firmly secured Brynolf's head by the hair. Their lips parted but their foreheads touched.
"You know what you mean to me, Bryn." Mercer spoke in a low, quiet voice.
"The others will see, Mercer." Their lips quickly met again.
"Tonight, my place. You and me, Bryn."
"Aye."
Mercer let Brynjolf go and watched as he walked towards the Flagon. He knew damn well that no one would be in the cistern at that time, and he would not risk being seen by the others. Losing what little respect the Guild members still had for him and the Guild's premature disbanding would be devastating to his plans.
Mercer opened one of the drawers on his desk and pulled out an open bottle of skooma. He drank it down in one shot and winced, exhaling loudly. It always burned like a bitch going down but the buzz was intense. He continued to look over his logbook. Everything was going to plan, so long as the new recruit could unwittingly set it into motion.
