Chapter Text
Mercury Black had had a long day, and at this point, all he wanted was for it to be over already.
The theft of General Ironwood’s brooch had been nothing short of a pain in the ass, both as he distracted the pathetic masses and guards alike with his fire-powered boots and ran to catch his frustratingly quick accomplice before he made off with what was supposed to be their treasure.
Or rather, it was supposed to be his treasure, once he betrayed Qrow Branwen, that is, and took it for himself.
But that’s not what happened.
He got away. He got away, and what’s worse was that Mercury practically gave him the escape.
How could he have been so short sighted? Branwen clearly wasn’t, and he was definitely a better thief than him.
All the same though, it was Branwen who got away, and not him.
No, his suffering had only begun at Branwen’s betrayal.
Getting caught was so, so much worse.
Mercury had tried to get away, but those damn Ace Ops knew how to work together too damn well, and even without their leader’s semblance at their disposal, they still had every aspect of his capture covered with next to no trouble.
He was all but dead in the water once Marrow got close enough to him to use his semblance. That semblance slowed him to a crawl the instant it made contact with Mercury. From there, Vine’s semblance-fueled arms stretched out all the way to him, and surrounded Mercury’s body before pulling him towards the rest of his team.
And finally...it was Elm’s turn with him.
There were worse ways to be careened around a forest than in his captor’s arm, bound as if he were hugged from behind.
That list wasn’t very long though.
Elm’s semblance allowed her to stabilize herself at any time, regardless of any resistance she might meet...or rather, regardless of any resistance Mercury attempted to put up in order to fight out of her grasp.
That was the way they’d walked for the past few hours, or at least, she walked. Elm, by her own admission later, intentionally held Mercury’s body in a way that left his feet just inches off the ground, leaving him helpless to walk alongside her as they walked through the forest. No, instead, he had to be carried at his waist like an unruly child, unable to do anything but complain.
Because of that, he made sure to complain a lot.
Maybe, just maybe, that complaining would annoy the Ace Ops enough for them to decide it wasn’t worth it to keep him and let him go. With all the time Mercury had at his disposal while the Ace Ops continued to search for Branwen -- added to the fact that he didn’t even have the brooch anymore -- it was certainly possible.
However, that didn’t happen, and in this awkward way he and Elm continued to travel.
Stubborn guards.
Mercury supposed he’d better start getting used to stubborn guards. Soon enough, they were all he was going to see.
Well, at least he’d get fed and sheltered in prison, not to mention away from some certain...uncomfortable presences currently plaguing his life. Maybe there was something to be said for that.
Based on the limited knowledge that Mercury had about the forest, assuming there’d be no more breaks to scope out the nearby areas, it would take another few hours to return to the kingdom’s capital. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to that -- being paraded through the capital as a prisoner, held in Elm’s clutches and unable to even shield his face while getting laughed at by Remnant’s citizens as he witnessed the last glimpses of a free life he’d likely ever see.
Gods, couldn’t this day just be over already?
It seemed like it was going to be soon, now that Branwen had appeared to have completely escaped and Harriet seemed to be without a plan as to what to do next.
But then Cardin showed up.
Mercury knew Cardin, albeit only in passing. He’d gone to his boss’ pub a few times for a post-heist ale on more than one occasion, and Cardin was a busboy there. Cardin had a mean demeanor about hime, one that was likely created to try to compensate for his lack of strength relative to everyone else at that tavern, but instead just made people hate him and notice his cowardice all the more.
It was curious to see him all the way out here, especially still in his uniform from work.
However, once he spoke, it became clear why.
“Br-Branwen,” Cardin said through laborious breaths. “The thief Qrow Branwen. W-we have him.”
Well, that was unexpected, and peculiar for more than one reason.
As Cardin continued to confirm for everyone present that it was indeed Qrow Branwen who they had, Mercury tried to make sense of how that had happened.
Branwen wasn’t the type to stop for an ale in the middle of a heist, especially not with one of Remnant’s most valuable treasures in hand. And even if he did for some reason Mercury couldn’t so much as hazard a guess at, Lil’ Miss Malachite’s was in the other direction from the nearest black market, and despite how fast Branwen had proven himself to be, there’s no way he’d be able to get to the black market, sell the brooch to the highest bidder, and then back to Malachite’s in that amount of time. It just wasn’t possible.
So why had he gone backwards from his destination?
If the Ace Ops -- or Ace Oops, as he had now taken it upon himself to call them in a further attempt to annoy his way to freedom -- actually managed to capture Branwen, he’d certainly have to ask him...in between beating the crap out of him for causing all of his torment today.
With Cardin’s lead, the Ace Ops -- and by extension, Mercury -- were on the move again. Upon seeing Mercury’s...unique means of travel, Cadrin walking beside Elm, snickered.
“Shut. Up,” Mercury grit.
“Or what?” Cardin mocked. “You seem a little too indisposed with your cuddling to do anything about it right now!” He proceeded to laugh his head off.
Mercury seethed on the comment, but before he could bark out another threat, Elm sighed, glaring at Cardin.
“Less talking, more walking, okay?” she ordered, clearly just as annoyed with Cardin’s comments, and voice, and...everything as Mercury was.
It seemed to do the trick, effectively shutting Cardin up the rest of the way to Malachite’s.
Mercury had plenty of problems with Elm, not the least of which was her style of holding him -- though he supposed it could have been worse seeing as how he wasn’t plopped over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes -- but he had to admit that he appreciated her stopping that mocking.
That seemed to be the only thing that had gone right for Mercury today, and after everything that had happened and was sure to happen, he could appreciate that just a little.
Once they arrived at Lil’ Miss Malachite’s, Harriet looped her horse around the neighboring horse post, and signaled for Elm to wait outside with Mercury until she received further orders. As the minutes continued to pass and pass, Mercury found himself curious.
If the staff at Lil’ Miss Malachite’s had Branwen like Cardin said they had, then why hadn’t the Ace Ops brought him out yet? Why hadn’t Mercury heard so much as a bit of Branwen’s voice? He heard everyone else’s just fine -- the other Ace Ops, Robyn, Sun, and the Juniper Jaggers were all coming in as clear as day, even through the closed door.
However, there was no sign of Branwen.
Mercury was pretty sure even Elm had picked up on that, as he could feel a certain rise of tension in her grasp and abs.
Suddenly, the door flung open, with Harriet on the other side.
“Brawen got away,” she grunted.
“He escaped through a hidden tunnel in the bar,” Marrow supplied. “It was actually a little cool.”
“Marrow,” Vine scolded.
“It was!” Marrow defended, “But whatever -- we’ve got to go after him!”
Harriet nodded at him before turning back to Elm. “Elm, chain the prisoner up to the horse post. I’m going to need your help to capture Branwen.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Mercury howled, trying once more to pull against his restraints. Still, Elm’s grasp remained as relentless as ever.
Harriet snorted. “Afraid not, thief.” She walked over to her horse, took a set of chains out of his saddle bag, and gave them to Elm. Elm then carried Mercury over to a nearby horse post just across from the tavern’s entrance.
Mercury loudly groaned upon feeling the cool, harsh metal bind themselves to his wrists, one after the other just after the chain that connected them was looped through the open piece of the metallic horse post.
Grimacing, he looked at his new situation.
On one hand, he could finally move around a bit more, no longer contained to just Elm’s clutches and finally able to walk now that his feet were on the ground again.
On the other hand, this may have been worse.
Mercury was so close to his freedom, but the metal of both his chains and the horse post stood as quite the barrier between the two of them.
Jeez, even Harriet’s horse was only bound to the post by rope -- not metal!
Did he seriously get more restrictions placed on him than a horse?
How was this his life right now?
“Don’t worry,” Elm teased, a chuckle under her breath as she pat Mercury’s shoulder. “You’ll just be here for a few hours. Then it’s off to the kingdom’s prison!”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Mercury sneered.
“I’ll leave that interpretation to you.”
Elm then casually ruffled Mercury’s hair before walking towards Malachite’s entrance, her body moving away just in time to perfectly avoid Mercury flailing head attempting to hit her. She seemed amused with herself at that development, still chuckling as she joined up with her team.
Great. Now on top of everything, his hair looked like a disaster, and without the free use of his hands, he could only do so much to fix it.
Mercury could, even without seeing his reflection, feel it -- so messy and unkempt, just like his former accomplice’s locks.
“Branwen!” he shouted out in frustration.
No one responded to his cry -- not that Mercury expected anyone to, given that he was supposedly gone. Instead, Mercury just heard the jovial sounds coming from the bar he stood outside of, muffled through the tavern’s closed door.
Oh yeah, and how could he forget? He wasn’t just chained up -- he was chained up right outside of Lil’ Miss Malachite’s, too, and in broad daylight, no less.
So now he didn’t even have the dignity of the relative privacy he received while traveling as the Ace Ops’ prisoner. People -- people Mercury knew and had a reputation with -- would see him helplessly chained up, and given how word tended to spread in this kingdom, it wouldn’t be long before everyone in the capital knew of this as well.
How much more humiliating could this day possibly get?
If the Ace Ops didn’t get to do the honors first, he was going to kill Branwen for this personally.
...And then move somewhere where absolutely no one knew him.
...And then change his name, too, for good measure.
“Mercury,” a man’s voice called out from behind him.
Surprised, Mercury jumped in place, ever so slightly. He’d hoped whoever was behind him wouldn’t have noticed, but given how the rest of his day had gone so far, he didn’t hold his breath.
Mercury tried to turn around to see his new guest as best as he could, and succeeded, if only a little, giving him a half view of the man behind him.
That turned out to be all he needed, for upon turning around and seeing him, however poorly, Mercury realized that he recognized the man -- Tyrian, he believed. Yes, Tyrian. He was hard to mistake for anyone else -- lanky in his build, but by no means weak, adorned in white clothes, sporting a scorpion’s tail, and hosting eyes that all but promised a trouble that he could no doubt deliver on if he so desired.
What was he doing here?
“Tyrian? You’re one of Salem’s minions, aren’t you?”
Whatever was the right thing to say to Tyrian, Mercury soon learned it wasn’t that.
“I’m more than just her minion, boy,” Tyrian sneered.
“Well, you’re not Cinder.”
“For now, at least,” Tyrian muttered underneath his breath.
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Mercury mumbled, rolling his eyes.
Tyrian made a ‘tsk’ noise, giving Mercury an unimpressed look. “Don’t mumble. It’s hardly befitting of one of Salem’s men.”
“Well, I’m probably not going to be one of Salem’s men now. As you can see,” Mercury said, flinging his chains as well as he could, “my last mission didn’t exactly work out as expected.”
Tyrian smirked. “Yes, you’re absolutely the epitome of failure right now, aren’t you? Caught by the Ace Ops and with no brooch to speak of. What a stroke of bad luck.”
Mercury grit his teeth. “Don’t talk to me about bad luck. I’ve had more than enough of that for one day.”
Suddenly, Tyrian’s tail slinked out from behind his back, brandishing its small, yet sharp point at Mercury before it started to move towards him.
Oh Gods...what was he going to do?
Mercury knew Salem didn’t take failure well, and he also knew that poison lived in Tyrian’s tail the same way ale lived in a keg. Was this going to be his punishment for a job poorly done?
But no, Tyrian didn’t do that, and that didn’t seem to be his intention. Instead, he let his tail slowly move towards the lock of one of his chains, but stopping just short of touching them.
“Well, then this should come as a pleasant surprise because luckily for you, you’ve caught me in a deal-making mood. I’d like to offer you something for your freedom, as well as my silence to Salem on this little problem of yours for the time being.”
“What’s that?” Mercury asked, unable to keep every last bit of the vulnerability out of his voice.
Tyrian took a step closer to him. “I need you to get the man Qrow Branwen is traveling with away from him. From there, you can just leave the rest to me. Simple, no?”
Mercury grunted. Deals with Salem’s forces always started out easy at first, but they had a habit of never staying that way. He’d been cheated out of untold amounts of gold over the fine print of those little deals, and forced to agree to more just to stay afloat.
Right now though, it looked like he had something of a choice. It couldn’t hurt to push his luck just a bit.
After all, what else did he have to lose?
“And what if I’m not feeling in a deal-making mood myself?” he snipped.
Tyrian eyes flashed -- as violent as a storm for the briefest of seconds, but then settled, replaced instead by a smirk. Calling it unsettling would be something of an understatement. “Oh I think you’ll find yourself very quickly in a deal-making mood, unless you wish for me to tell Salem of your failure to grab that brooch.” Immediately, Mercury’s eyes bulged.
“I don’t think I need to tell you that she’ll be...less than pleased to hear that news,” Tyrian continued. “And let’s be honest -- not even the guards and the prison cells in the capital will be enough to protect you from whatever retaliation our goddess will see fit to bestow upon you for such weakness.”
Mercury felt his blood freeze. Gods, damn it.
“Besides, Tyrian added, “you’ll get more than just your freedom and my silence out of this little exchange of ours.”
“Oh?” Mercury asked.
Grinning, Tyrian grabbed his satchel and took out something Mercury hadn’t expected to see again any time soon. “If you do this, you’ll get this back,” he said, flashing the emerald brooch in front of Mercury in the same way a wealthy man might flash a crust of bread at a starving beggar. “You’ll have an opportunity to redeem yourself in our queen’s eyes, but that’s not all.”
Mercury gulped. “I’m listening,” he said.
Tyrian’s smirk widened. “You’ll also have your chance to get back at the man who took it from you -- Qrow Branwen. Once I have the man he’s traveling with, Branwen is all yours to do with as you see fit. So, I think your choice should be obvious, but I’m not the presumptuous type -- what do you say?”
Unfortunately, Tyrian was right. There was only one thing to say.
And so he said it.
“Deal.”
“Good.” Immediately, Tyrian pushed his tail the rest of the way into the lock of one of Mercury’s chains. Once that one unlocked, he got to quick work on the other.
When they were both undone, Mercury massaged his wrists, taking a deep breath of the open air.
Free.
After this long, lingering, humiliating day, he was finally free.
However, just as Tyrian’s tail had given Mercury his freedom, with a pull of his chin that was sharp in more ways than one, he took it away just as quickly, pulling Mercury towards Tyrian so that he was just under his harsh, wild gaze.
“Don’t forget,” Tyiran added, smiling serenely. “I’ll be watching you very, very closely, even if it doesn’t seem like I am.” Suddenly, Tyrian’s smile dropped, and he began glaring at Mercury. “If you fail to meet your end of our little deal, there won’t be so much as a stone in Remnant you’ll be able to hide under where our goddess won’t be able to find you, you wretch. Understood?”
Mercury felt devoid of all manner of speech, simply nodding.
“Wonderful,” Tyrian said, his smile blossoming back like a rose. His tail released Mercury, causing him to almost trip.
Then...Tyrian took off, and Mercury was alone, or at least, was as alone as he could be with Tyrian’s promise in mind.
Gods, Mercury didn’t even know where Branwen was, much less who was his traveling companion that Tyrian seemed to care so much about.
What would he do?
What could he do?
Mercury looked at his surrounding, no longer bound to them, but instead able to use them as he saw fit.
And then, he saw what it was he should do.
Well, if he was going after Branwen, he couldn’t just rely on his own foot power. No, Mercury needed a horse, and right now, he had the pick of the litter. He looked at the other options -- a black steed with a gray mane, an orange steed with a cream mane, a chocolate-colored steed with a matching mane -- but quickly decided that none of those would do.
No, it was the horses with a white coat and white mane -- Harriet’s steed, in fact -- that would do the trick.
Not to mention, it would serve as not just a great means of travel, but also as a great means of revenge, both to the Ace Ops and soon enough, to Branwen.
It looked like Mercury was getting a bit of an upgrade.
Even still though, the work he now faced was anything but enviable.
His long, long day had just gotten a lot longer.