Murderer #2

Story by bluedraggy on SoFurry

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#5 of Prequel

Posting the full image from the Prequel Fanart booru. Though the sketch things on the right are simple, I also like that one of her outside the door she blocked. That split second when she realized what she had just done, and still had a chance to reverse it.


She peered through the keyhole. She saw his back within, breathing deeply. So peaceful, he seemed. And she was about to screw up his life too. Well, there was no help for it - short of turning herself in that is. She thought about that for a moment before knocking. Beheading probably. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. She certainly deserved it. Justice in Cyrodiil was harsh and swift, and there was no leniency for a crime like hers. But was it murder?

"Idiot, you locked the young fool in with that... thing," Rajirra thought. "She burned her own gloves with the fucking fire spell. Did you really think she had a chance against it? She's probably a charred corpse by now."

An image of a body, charred and black leapt into her mind. It's eyes burned from their sockets, the teeth ever-smiling now. Smiling at her. Grinning. It's fangs long and sharp. It turned it's black and bone-colored skull towards her. "MURDERER"

She screamed, then covered her mouth. A sound came from within. She'd woken him. She shook her head out of her nightmare and returned to reality, then knocked at the door.

She heard words spoken in Ta'agra within. To anyone else in town they would be unintelligible. She however, understood them quite well.

"Fucking goddamn shit! At this time of night? I'll fucking bash whoever is there with my fucking mace and fuck their dead body and eat their head. Who the fuck is awake at this fucking time?!"

"Who is it? Who is out there?" she heard the bartender switch to the Common language.

"It's... Ra'Jirra," she replied in Ta'agra as assurance that it was her.

She heard keys rattle and the bolt thrown back. The door opened just enough to see the bartender's face beyond.

"Ra'Jirra? Do you know what time it is? What the hell do you want?"

"Please... S'thengir isn't it? I... I need to talk to you. It's urgent."

"Hold on a minute," he grumbled and shut the door again. She heard something heavy thump onto the floor inside before the door opened.

"What?" S'thengir said impatiently, standing within the doorway. Had she not been so distressed, the sight of the khajiit dressed in silly blue-striped pajamas would have at least elicited a chuckle.

"Can I come in?" she asked. This was the moment of truth. He had to let her in!

"What for?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

She began to unlace her bodice.

"Wait! Stop!" he said, and she stopped. He leaned out and looked around, making sure no one else was around. Then he looked back at her, his eyes still full of suspicion.

"Why?"

She shrugged. "We can't help ourselves sometimes, S'thengir. Surely you know that. You're a khajiit."

He grumbled, but opened the door wide and stood aside. "Come in. Of course I do. But I control myself."

She entered and looked around the little room as he closed and locked the door behind him.

"I've... done so myself, pretty well. But tonight. I just couldn't," she said, finishing the unlacing and removing the vest. She started unbuttoning the blouse underneath.

S'thengir sat back on the rough 'bed' he'd made on the floor and watched her, a touch of a smile reaching the corners of his mouth. It was a smile few had ever seen on the gruff face before.

"Do you want to become pregnant?" he asked her. "I'm not prepared to father a litter."

"No, khajiit. I have potions. I just need you. I am leaving town in the morning. Before I go, I need this."

"I see. Yes, I know the need too. But you must have more self-control, khajiit-woman. We must not be seen as animals here among the other races."

"That is why I come at night," she answered. She stood now with her blouse open, her breasts not fully revealed, knowing they would have their natural effect."

"That was wise," he said, watching her in the flickering candlelight, his eyes focused somewhat lower than her face.

"Will you not join me, khajiit-man?" she asked, her hands ready to remove the blouse and reveal herself to him. "You make me feel... wanton."

He laughed a short, somehow angry laugh.

"You are wanton, are you not? No, thank you Ra'Jirra. I prefer to watch you undress. It arouses me."

"I see," she said, and let the blouse slip from her shoulders. Then, with as much grace as she could muster, she lowered her skirt slowly. She stood naked in front of the bartender, awkward and embarrassed. Her hair covered her breasts after she had bent to step out of the skirt now, but he was looking farther down than that now. She felt the familiar heat rising within her, and it shamed her. She did like this, and she didn't want to.

"Turn around," he said, and she did so, bending to rest her hands on a chair. Behind her she heard him removing his pajamas."

"Will you not... "

"Foreplay? Of course. I am no rapist. I do not enjoy an unprepared woman. But, turn back around Ra'Jirra." he replied.

She turned back to see him fully dressed.

"What?? I don't understand! I need..."

"You need nothing. Thank you for the show. Your body is excellent. But now, put your clothes on and tell me why you wake me this late at night," he demanded.

"I... I wanted..."

"Ra'Jirra. Do you know what a bartender does? It is my trade to know my customers. And you are a khajiit. I can read you better than these humans, and I read them well. Your eyes are red. You have been crying. Your hair is brushed, but until recently it was disheveled. I do attract you, and perhaps sometime we may mate, but that is not why you have come. Tell me or leave."

Rajirra turned around and sat on the chair heavily.

"You see much, S'thengir," she said. "More than with your eyes."

"And more than with my cock," S'thengir smiled. "But you had a disadvantage in your scheme, whatever it was, Ra'Jirra. You see, I'm already in a relationship. A serious relationship. Your body, as tempting as it is, will not move me to compromise my love."

She smirked. "You were none to quick to stop me undressing, I noticed."

S'Thengir stood and walked slowly over to her and bent to put his mouth beside her ear. She could feel his warm breath inside it.

"She never said I couldn't look," he whispered, tickling the sensitive fur inside.

She turned to him, but he backed away.

"Now now, foul temptress. Hands off the merchandise. Wait here a moment. I'll be right back," he said, and left the room.

Ra'Jirra thought desperately. Seduction was out. Still, she had managed to secure a refuge, at least for a little while. She tried to think of something else. Something that might convince him to help her escape the city in the morning. But he returned with two glasses of strong khajiiti drink and she'd not come up with anything yet.

"Still naked? I guess you didn't understand me," he said, handing her one glass.

She shrugged. Being naked didn't bother her.

"Drink. I call it Eye of the Tiger. My own mix. Try it! I'm rather proud of it," he said, taking a sip of his own.

It tasted like cold fire on her tongue. She had thought of nothing. She was running out of time.

"It's good," she said. "Very good."

"So, now. Ra'Jirra. Why are you here? And please tell the truth. My patience is growing thin, and my vow to my love hangs by a thread. I will kick you out instantly and call the guards if I sense any lie. And I'm very, very good at sensing lies."

She looked at him. She looked at the drink. She looked back at him, and the expression on her face was no longer contrived. It was one of sincere desperation. She downed the drink and felt it begin to do it's work.

"I killed someone tonight. I need to get out of town."

S'thengir's drink hit the floor.