All in a Day's Work

He looked peaceful now. In his dark eyes behind the half-closed lids the vacant stare at whatever vision comes upon us at our very last moment. There was a serenity to his being that would have seemed completely at odds with his character when still alive. Now it became him, somehow. The tip of his tongue peeking out from between those full lips which had so eagerly pressed on hers during these past few days. On her lips and . . . elsewhere.

But never again. She felt almost regretful thinking about it.

But that's the way it was with Runa Fair-Shield. With her, you got once chance and one chance only. You blew it, and she and you were through.

She doffed her iron helmet and ran a hand over her sweaty scalp, the close-cropped stubble of her hair prickly against the skin. She'd still not quite gotten used to the feeling. But when some bastard grabs you by your customary braid and nearly cuts your throat, well—your preferences in style tend to change pretty quick. For the same reason she'd sawed the horns off her helmet. Kind of a stupid way to decorate a helmet to begin with, now that she thought of it.

She shrugged and turned on her heel.

The kid was standing there, looking bewildered, amongst the wreckage of Dwarven machinery. Some fledgling out for adventure whom they'd found wandering about the ruins in his brand new armor, his blade and shield barely dented. Way over his head. This is how she imagined Erik had been, back in the day. They—herself and the now dead Nils at her feet—had taken the young thing along, if only to try to keep him alive.

Well, just perhaps, for eye candy as well.

He was undeniably cute in his downy, untried way. There was callow naiveté about him, innocence he tried his best to conceal. Had its own charm.

She grinned at him.

"Is he . . .?" the kid said, his eyes on dead Nils.

"No, dear, he's only resting. He'll be back up in no time and we can continue our little fight. Yes, of course he's dead, you big dummy!" At his blinking, she rolled her eyes. "You're welcome for that as well, by the way. Now, don't look at me like that! I'll have you know that he tried to screw us over and take the loot all for himself. Was gonna kill you too." She paused, gave him a significant look. "At least eventually."

Runa had invented the last bit just to see what his reaction would be like. Mildly amusing, as it turned out.

She shrugged. "In any case, we got what we—"

The kid took a careless step to the side, placing a foot on a round metal disc embedded in the floor. The disc gave with a click.

This was followed by another sound down the hall. A metallic, rolling sound. Nearing fast.

His eyes wide on her. "I didn't—"

"Look out!"

Her blades in hands, Runa pounced to step in between the young fool and the Dwarven Sphere rolling rapidly at him. It was just unraveling from its balled-up form, the metallic anthropomorph springing out from between the orb's separating halves, the long blade attached to one arm lashing out. She caught the automaton's blade in between her own crossed ones, neatly dodging the bolt which simultaneously flew from its other arm.

Runa Fair-Shield was one to brag, yet when she bragged she was rarely wrong. And when it came to being fast on your feet, she'd yet to encounter anyone who could best her. These mechanical monstrosities might have beaten most folk in speed, but not her.

She swept the machine's sword aside with her left one, then dealt an accurate and decisive blow with the right, landing a good hit at the crossbow on its other arm, incapacitating it. Then she spun to her left and gave the thing's side a hard double-blade swat. The automaton was jolted forwards a bit, then attempted to roll out of harm's way. She did not give it a chance, but dashed after it even before it got properly moving.

Putting all her strength behind her foot, she kicked at the edge of the automaton's spherical base. This spun the thing around, causing it to temporarily lose its control over its movement. She took advantage of its mechanical confusion, and, aiming carefully, jabbed hard at the back of its neck with one blade. The tip of the blade slid in through the narrow seam where its head was attached to its shoulders.

A hissing explosion and a flash of light. A jolt ran through Runa's blade; she felt the tingling even through the leather wrapping around the handle. She drew the blade out, and the automaton collapsed to the ground, juddering and popping as the weird magic that kept it up and running failed. Then it was still, just a pile of faintly smoking scrap metal.

Runa rolled her shoulders and resheathed her swords at her hips. "That takes care of that." She glanced at the kid. He stood there stupidly with his mouth open. Shrugging, she ignored him.

There were bedrolls lying all about the hallway, as this was a fairly popular place for adventurers to come trying their luck, and for lowlifes to hide in. This was further evinced by the corpses that one routinely came across in these places. Wood still in the fireplace, though it was doubtful whether that would do much to warm the place up.

"Well," she said through a yawn. "I guess this place is as good as any for a little shuteye before we start heading back." How many nights had it been since her last good sleep?

The kid was eyeing her all weird.

"What got into you?" she asked.

"You saved my life," he said, sounding puzzled.

"Yeah," Runa said, "I guess I did. How's that make you feel?"

Not anything depictable with words, it seemed.

Smiling, she slowly approached him. "S'alright," she said. "No biggie. Goes with the job."

He said something in very serious tones. He had a rather cute mouth, she realized. Those lips looked soft. She stopped right in front of him, just in time for him to stop talking. He frowned at her silence.

"Well?" he said.

Her smile widened. "Yeah," she said in a dreamy drawl.

And his frown deepened. "Were you even listening?"

Runa shook her head. "No."

He tried to repeat himself. But she then pressed a finger on his lips. They were soft.

"Hush," she said. "Surely it can wait."

The kid's eyes bulged most comically.

Now, Runa knew perfectly well that she had never been the prettiest of faces. But she knew what to do, and how to do it—and, most importantly, when to do it. She knew how to get their attention and particularly how to keep it. She also knew that the strikingly blue eyes, nearly cobalt, which she'd inherited from her mother, were a dangerous weapon when used right. Coincidentally, that was how she always used 'em.

But they were by far not the only part of herself she knew how to use.

She pressed herself against the young man, placing her hands firmly on his back. "See, I just thought of a way you can repay me." And she kissed him deep. And after the initial surprise, he responded to it. Her other hand then slid down his back, down his ass, and over to his crotch. She squeezed his bulge, sought out the outline of his cock. The thing immediately began to harden.

These pups . . .

Pulling back, leaving him looking suddenly starved, she studied him. "Tell me, have you ever done it before?"

Something like offence came upon his expression. "Of course I have!"

Runa was only a little bit disappointed. Then again, who knows . . . "That's good," she said, pushing him toward one of the sleeping mats. "Then this should all be familiar to you."

"Wait—" he said.

She did not wait.

She jolted awake without an idea of how many hours had passed. Then quickly reoriented herself. The ruins, the scattered metal junk, the man still dead—A bit of a shame that one, still. And lying beside her the other, younger man. Still very much alive. Warm, emitting his heat onto her own; naked, the fur of his bedroll pulled up to his navel. Asleep and looking every bit like a man content.

Oh, right. Him. Well, that wasn't half bad!

She was also naked, but uncovered, yet did not feel particularly cold. It was partly due to her Nord blood, but certainly the moderate layer of fat covering her tautly muscled frame didn't hurt. While her way of life kept her in a plenty good shape, her affinity for food and drink ensured that she'd not be freezing to death for simply forgoing a blanket.

Still, had she lost some weight? Better get on that once I get back to civilization.

She regarded the pup and smiled. What experience and skill he might have lacked, he'd certainly compensated with eagerness. That, in general, was the best part of the youngins. That is, if you were lucky.

He was rather skinny still, and looked far more likely to suffer for the chill air in the hallway. She reached out to tug his blanket up all the way. But as she grabbed the blanket's edge, she changed her mind. Her grin quirking, she instead slowly pulled the fur lower. The kid shifted in his sleep, looking slightly uncomfortable. Yet remained asleep.

His member rested against his thigh, still looking slightly engorged. Runa traced her finger along its length a couple times, and it once again began to respond. Early bird gets the worm. There was a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Well, she thought. Might as well give him a pleasant wakeup. Grabbing his cock, she eased herself down to close her mouth around it. As she looked up, she saw the smile on his lips widen.

Later, after their little morning exercise, Runa and the kid—Lars, surely? Or possibly Jorg—stood outside on the rickety catwalk which led out from the ruins. That should be enough sleep for one night. The sky was already paling, yet the moons still hung in the firmament. They were full and strangely red in color. Something to do with the dustiness of the past few days, Runa thought. As she let her eye linger on the larger Masser, it seemed almost misshapen. More like an egg, actually. A bloody egg, eh? Surely a good omen.

Shrugging, she regarded the kid, who still looked a bit frazzled. Well, he oughta! she thought, smirking.

He had paid him his share in gold. She thought that since he'd helped her—albeit minimally—in acquiring the loot, he might as well be afforded a part of that treacherous snake Nils' share. Runa Fair-Shield was nothing if not generous.

And speaking of generosity. "Alright," she told the kid. "Guess this is it, then. Go now, and take to heart all that I have taught you tonight!"

"What would that be?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed. "If you need to ask, you weren't paying attention."

He suddenly looked uncharacteristically bold with his grin. "Oh, I paid attention alright. I'm sure I learned plenty. Thanks!"

"The pleasure," she said, smiling sagely, "was all mine. Now, skedaddle while you still can."

He tipped a hat he wasn't wearing, and started walking up the winding catwalk with an easy, jaunty step.

Runa looked after him for a while, studying the curve of his behind as he walked. A little more muscle and he'd be just fine. So long, kid. Try not to get yourself killed. Or worse.

She then reached under the wide belt of her beat-up leather armor and took out a folded paper, the one which the young messenger Bosmer had brought her just before she'd gotten here. That one had also been cute in his own way. Awkward like a baby bird on its first legs. The sort just begging for the guiding hand of an older woman.

Ah, what's wrong with me tonight! I just fucked twice and already I'm in the mood for more! Must be the moons. Or the spring, now that it's finally here.

She read the letter again. 'To Runa Fair-Shield. We have heard word of you as a woman who can get things done. We have things that need doing. Bloody work. If you feel that you might be up the task, please come see this one at Whiterun within the next few days. Work will be dangerous, the payment generous. Yours, Dra'Ajira of clan Da'kheavek'.

After studying the paper for a while longer, she folded it again and slipped it back under the belt. Well, at least they got me pegged pretty good. And they seemed to know what sort of payment she preferred. Generous.

And dangerous work, they say?

In other words, what's not to like!

It had been a while since she'd last worked for the Khajiit. What sort of a dangerous job could the cats have in mind? She shrugged. Well, it's a job like any other. Can't be anything too complicated. Perhaps I'll just head over there next.

But not before a drink or four.