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You rubbed your ears with ungloved hands slightly, hoping to warm them from the blistering cold. They were still slightly ringing from the thrill of pickpocketing an egoistic Jarl, an action that sped up your heart rate and made you more happier than you'd like to admit.
Between the snow that was falling down at an angle because of the wind and the wind itself, you were too caught up in your hatred for Skyrim's cold weather that you didn't realize that you had reached your destination of Snow Veil Sanctum.
"You're late," Mercer's voice called out, stopping you dead in your tracks. "I told you to get here as soon as possible so we can stop Karliah."
"Sorry," you flashed a sheepish grin, "Vex gave me a job in Windhelm... And after seeing how shittily the Nords treat everyone else I decided to pay the Jarl a visit. Do you think Jarl Ulfric will miss this?" You dug into your satchel and held out his signature Amulet of Talos.
Mercer's face stayed in its normal disappointed look. "Lucky for you, I'm certain that Karliah is still inside. I found her horse and have taken care of it, she won't be using it to escape."
You frowned, stashing the necklace back into your satchel. How hard was it to impress this guy? "Then are we all good to go inside? It's cold out here and I am super excited go into an Old Nordic tomb and fight decades old dead dudes."
"I hope that's sarcasm I detect. Karliah will shoot you down with a single arrow if you're not careful," Mercer stated. "Take the lead."
"Wait, what? Did I hear that right?" You stared at him with wide eyes. "You want me, the 'incompetent Breton who trusts strangers way to easily' to lead you into a ruin?" You stepped forward and rested one hand on his forehead warily. "Are you feeling okay?"
Mercer scowled, an action he did far too often, but didn't swat your hand away. "I'm sorry, I was under the impression that I was in charge. You're leading and I'm following. Does that seem clear to you?"
"Fine, just don't be loud or trip on anything. I like sneaking up on Draugr with a bow and would rather not get too close." Mercer gave you a glare so you rushed to explain yourself, "They smell funny and it takes weeks to get rid of the stench off my skin."
You pulled your hand back and began walking slowly up the side of the ruin, the ice developing making you worried that you might slip and fall.
"If you were planning on being this slow, you should've came earlier," Mercer remarked from somewhere close behind you.
You sighed and tried to walk faster up. You were almost at the stairs when a patch of ice appeared out of nowhere. "Shit!" You yelled as you went flying backwards, about to land on your bum.
Arms wrapped around your stomach right before you make impact, pulling you into a much nicer embrace than what you would've gotten from the snow.
"You're pretty loud for someone who calls herself a thief," Mercer said, his breath hitting your skin in waves of heat.
"You're pretty thoughtful for someone who claims he doesn't like me. You saved me from falling flat on my bum," You retorted.
"If you fell you're armour would get wet, making you even noisier," Mercer defended himself, speaking quicker than usual. He stood you back up and nodded, "Lead on, and don't fall this time."
You carefully walked down the steps and towards the tomb's door, only to find it locked with a puzzling layer. "What in the world is this?" You murmur to yourself, turning back to Mercer. "It's locked."
"Locked, you're a thief, aren't you?" He walked towards you until he was right beside you, facing the door. "This one doesn't look too difficult." He crouched, pulling out a golden type object that you've never seen before, but the shape reminded you of a key. "Quite simple really, I don't know what all the fuss is about these locks. All it takes is a bit of know-how and skill." Somehow, the golden key thing unlocked the door. You mentally wrote it down on your things to get. "That should do it. After you."
"Always the gentlemen, letting the ladies go first into a tomb of dead dudes. Divines smile on you," You teased. You reached into your bag and equipped your favourite pair of gloves before using your now gloved hands to open the old door.
You were immediately greeted with the smell of rotting corpses and a dimly lit entry way. There were pillars housing flames on either side, flames you weren't sure how survived that long of being lit.
Mercer entered in after you, stopping far too close behind you for your comfort. "The stench here... this place smells of death. Be on your guard."
"You say that as if I plan on acting as if I'm entering a city and not an enclosed tomb of angry dead people," You said, turning your head back to grin at him.
"You're the one who trusted Brynjolf instantly just because he had an accent," He replied, stepping away from you to get a better look at the room.
"What? Have you heard his accent? He could've literally asked me to burn the city to the ground and I would've. You know what I think?" You felt your grin grow even bigger as a thought occurred to you. "I think you're jealous because you don't have a sexy Brynjolf accent."
If looks could kill, you would be twelve feet under. Wait, that's a bad example of how dead you would be, based on the fact that you were already underground.
You awkwardly cleared your throat, "Let's get going then."
You went through the suspiciously already open door and down the stairs. There was a gate to the left that you instantly had an interest of looting whatever was inside. You looked around, trying to figure out what triggered the gate to open. Finding nothing, you turn your attention back to the gate, just to find there's a pull chain within reach on the inside. You squeeze your hand in through the narrow gap of the gate and pull it down. You pull your hand back as quick as you can and almost do a happy dance when you notice it opening.
You walked in and bagged the potions that were there, figuring they'd be useful and if not you could always sell them.
Mercer, who had been doing Mara knows what, finally comes down the stairs.
"You know, if you're going to follow you should probably stick closer to me. Otherwise you're not a good follower," You commented, leaving the small gated room to join him in the main section.
"You're right, wouldn't want you getting eaten by a Draugr, now would we?" Mercer agreed, surprising you. Even with his ever present rude tone, it seemed out of character.
Together, you fought your way through rooms of Draugrs. All was going swell and well, but then to your surprise there was a word wall.
"What are you doing?" Mercer demanded, but your eyes were too captivated by the word wall to make a remark back.
You were standing, back to the weird small upper floor for two tombs, and trying to make out what the word wall was saying.
Mercer moved to stand in front of you, snapping you out of your search for ancient knowledge.
"Could you move? I'm trying to read something," You said, mentally shaking your head at Mercer's impatientness.
"And what exactly were you trying to read? A centuries old wall filled with a long lost language?" Mercer asked, his eyebrows narrowing.
"Yes, exactly that," You, this time physically shook your head, and pushed him slightly away.
Not even a moment passed before a section of the word wall began flowing an eerie blue, a glow that soon turned into a current of warm air that landed on you, warming you completely despite the fact of how deep underground you were. You closed your eyes, giving your mind time to decipher this new knowledge. It was a shout, a shout to disarm to be exact.
When you opened your eyes, you found Mercer staring down at you with disbelief clear in his eyes. "You're the Dragonborn? I always expected the legendary Nordic hero to be... Taller."
"I'm tall enough to kick your ass," You said with a shrug. Mercer opened his mouth to reply but you cut him off, "Now that we've covered that, shall we move on? I don't think the traitor will be hanging around for long once she realizes we've come this far."
Mercer just nodded, an agreement you took as a sign to pull the chain that opened the gate.
You were about to step into the room that was closed off when you noticed nuisances on the floor. "Bear traps," You called out, warning Mercer, despite the fact that you're sure a Master thief like him wouldn't need such a warning. "I wonder if Karliah put them there, or if it is simply to be sure the Draugr don't escape. I really can't imagine a Draugr being caught in a bear trap," You mused to yourself as you glided across the floor and around the bear traps. You were about halfway across the room when you realized the door at the end of the hall, the sort of door that ancient Nordic ruins took so much pride in.
"Damn," You muttered, turning to your companion, "I don't suppose you'd have the matching claw for this door, now would you?"
Mercer shook his head, but accepted the challenge all the same. He approached the door in long, confident strides. He stopped a few steps back to examine it.
"It's one of the infamous Nordic puzzle doors. How quaint. Without the matching claw, they're normally impossible to open. And since I'm certain Karliah already did away with it, we're on our own. Fortunately, these doors have a weakness if you know how to exploit it." At that, he crouched to unlock the door, with what you were guessing was the magical golden key thing again. There was a soft clicking sound as the Nordic door unlocked itself, giving Mercer his cue to flash you an overconfident smirk, "Quite simple, really."
"You have got to show me how to open Nordic ruins without the keys and claws," You admired. And possibly tell me where you got that golden key thing.
Mercer was quiet for a long moment before responding with a simple, "Possibly."
His gaze was unfocused for the next few moments, almost as if he was considering something. Still with the unfocused daze in his eyes, his eyes turned to you. If you didn't know any better, you'd wonder if he was considering something involving you. But based on the fact that he often remarks that he doesn't see how you're an 'asset of the guild', you doubted that.
He blinked hard, if one could, and his eyes snapped back into focus to the task at hand. "Karliah's close, I'm certain of it. Now let's get moving," he ordered in his usual tone. He finished up opening the Nordic door and nodded you onward.
You passed him and barely had a chance to step into the unlocked room before an arrow pierced your flesh.
***
Consciousness eventually comes to you once more, and your eyes struggle to open. You don't feel soreness where the arrow hit you, and now that you've come to realize it, you don't feel anything at all. All that you're able to do is watch and listen to the scene that was about to unfold in front of you.
Mercer at one point, probably after you collapsed, had passed you to enter the room and was now facing towards a feminine dark elf.
"Do you honestly think your arrow will reach me before my blade finds your heart?" Mercer threatened her. Your tired mind cheered him on and hoped that his blade will find her heart as vengeance for her arrow in your---wherever it landed.
"Give me a reason to try." Was all you heard back.
"You're a clever girl, Karliah." A deep part of you has always wanted Mercer to call you clever in a way that's not completely sarcastic. "Buying Goldenglow Estate and funding Honningbrew Meadery was inspired."
"'To ensure an enemy's defeat, you must undermine his allies.' It was the first lesson Gallus taught us," Karliah replied. If you weren't immobile, you would've scoffed at her (and possibly spit in her face). How dare she quote the man who she repaid his love for her with his death.
"You always were a quick study," Mercer replied, surprisingly not annoyed by her quoting Gallus.
"Not quick enough, otherwise Gallus would still be alive."
Wait, what?
"Gallus had his wealth and he had you. All he has to do was look the other way," You were shocked and downright terrified to hear Mercer say.
"Did you forget the Oath we took as Nightingales? Did you expect him to simply ignore your methods?" Karliah accused, her words confusing you even more.
"Enough of this mindless banter! Come, Karliah. It's time for you and Gallus to become reunited!" Mercer unsheathed his blade.
At this point, you weren't sure who to root for. Probably still Mercer because at least he hasn't and probably never will stab you.
Karliah fiddled with something quickly before she disappeared completely, but her voice still rang out through the tomb. "I'm no fool, Mercer. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence. But I can promise the next time we meet, it will be your undoing."
Mercer, with his opponent fine and his blade still unsheathed, walked towards where you lay.
You, noting the blade still drawn in his hand, were cautiously rephrasing your last thought about him never, and probably never will, stab you. As he approached you closer, his eyes unfocused again like was debating something, you sent a silent prayer to the Divines that you will live past this day, and hopefully be able to move from whatever coated the arrow soon.
With his eyes still dazed and his footsteps still taking him nearer and nearer to you, he begins talking out loud. "How interesting. It appears Gallus's history has repeated itself. Karliah has provided me the means to be rid of you, and this ancient tomb becomes your final resting place. But do you know what intrigues me the most? The fact that this was all possible because of you." He stopped then, probably because he had no where else to go since he was right in front of you.
"Sweet, innocent (Y/N). You only wanted to impress our little family of thieves. Every little thing you did wasn't for your own wealth, I've seen your house and it is perhaps the most bare one out there," Mercer paused to look down at you, and you were tempted to spit an insult his face, was he seriously insulting your house? When had he even been inside your house? "Perhaps the reason why you strived to impress the guild wasn't because of Brynjolf with his accent, but because you wanted to impress some higher personnel with all the coin you've brought in. The person you've tried to impress, dare I say, is your Guildmaster."
Your eyes grew wide, or as wide as they could will your nerves were still poisoned, and you could've sworn that your heart skipped a beat.
"Don't look so shocked, little thief. I've known your intentions to impress all along, ever since I tried to dismiss you as a non valuable asset to the guild you've been dying to prove me wrong." He paused and sent you a smile that made your heart skip even more beats. "Ironic that I say that, with you dying with whatever poison Karliah put on the tip of that arrow."
He crouched down so he could be almost considered kneeling beside you. "It's always been my least favourite decision, to decide whether or not to kill a fellow Guild member. With Gallus it was a fairly easy decision, he was a respected Guildmaster who had grown suspicious of my ways. As for you, (Y/N), I can't bring myself to decide."
You tried to move your lips to say something back, maybe to persuade him to let you live, but found yet again that your body parts were useless. All you could find yourself to do was stare through hopeful eyes, eyes that were perhaps too hopeful towards someone who killed their leader in cold blood.
"I could leave you, letting whatever poison is running through your system finish you off or wear off. Or I could finish you off," Mercer lifted his Dwarven blade so it glinted in the little light that was entering the tomb. It had excellent craftsmanship, you'll admit, the Dwarves certainly knew how to make a blade. It was smooth, and if it wasn't so sharp it probably wouldn't hurt if it brushed your skin. He brushed the blade over your neck, "How easy it would be, with you paralyzed. I'd be rid of my pain in my back for once and for all."
At this, you narrowed your eyes. Did he seriously just hint that you're a pain in his back? After all you've done for his guild?
"But, I think I'll miss you, (Y/N). Despite how irritating you can be, you are the best at what you do. Hell, I think I'll even miss your clever retorts that tend to be annoyingly amusing," Mercer laid his blade down beside you and clumsily scuffled through his pockets, looking for something. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction and he leaned over to pour some red liquid in your mouth.
It tasted sour, so sour and bitter you wondered if he was poisoning you further. But after some rubbing of the throat by him, you managed to swallow it and slowly you could feel your body once more.
And man, did your stomach ever hurt.
"Ow," You managed to mumble, reaching your hands down to rest on the injury. You pulled out an Orcish arrow with a jagged edge and forced yourself to cast a healing spell. You felt drained, but not drained enough to not thank your misleading Guildmaster.
"Thank you, Mercer," You whispered, your voice not fully functioning yet. "You trust me to live with the knowledge of what truly happened to Gallus, and tolerate me enough to save my life from a poison."
"About that," Mercer shifted uncomfortably on the floor. He picked up the arrow and examined it before saying, "The poison was a paralytic poison that slowed your heart rate. It wouldn't have actually killed you."
"Well, aren't you just a nerd for alchemy," You tried joking. "I guess you could've just left me, but you didn't, so I'm still thankful." You grinned at him, a gesture he did not return.
"If you ever mention a word of what you've learned here..." He threatened, reaching to pick up his sword.
"What happens in Snow Veil Sanctum stays in Snow Veil Sanctum," You said before he could push the sword to your throat once more. "But before we go on our own ways and pretend like this whole thing never happened, I must ask..."
"You're leading on to the question like you want an answer," Mercer scowled.
Your grin didn't waver at the sight of his scowl, but it rather encouraged you to go on, "Does this whole thing mean that you actually like the 'incompetent Breton who may or may not have been trying to impress her Guildmaster ever since she saw him'?"
Mercer opened his mouth to reply but you nudged him, an unspoken hint that he better be honest or else you will bring it up whenever you could.
Instead, he just sighed and leaned over to land a peck on your lips. A peck you'd much rather have as a full on kiss, but it was enough for now.
"Aw! Mercer has a crush!" You exclaimed louder than you should've, an action that sent pain coursing through your body where the potion and spell hadn't fully taken effect yet.
"Ow."