It Pays To Be Nice, Sometimes

"No shit."

"None at all. Next thing I knew, I heard her shout 'Kitara!' and this weird wash of light and heat flew past me. There was a clash, some screams and shit, and next thing I knew I opened my eyes and?" She jerked her thumb toward the pieces of orcs. "There they were. Sorcery, I guess."

"No. That's the power of She-Behind-The-Blade, I think." Fewnick, suddenly weak, slumped back down. "I wonder if Gelsen knew," he sighed.

"Knew what?"

"Raella is obviously a priestess." He smiled. "See, Molley? Take that as a lesson. It pays to be nice sometimes."

"Yes." Molley thought about Kenning's lost ear.

"You never know who they might turn out to be."

She looked down at him, her expression veiled. "I'll be nice to you," she murmured.

"You already are." He smiled. "Your face is bloody."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Can you imagine? I spend half my life training with a razorwhip, and not a scratch. Then, in my first battle?" She touched the cut. "Self-inflicted wound, I'm afraid. I'll need to get my weapons skills up to a higher standard, if I'm going to be hanging around you people."

"Are you?" Fewnick found he was holding his breath.

She shrugged. "I'll stay for awhile. Long enough to get you back on your feet." She hesitated. "I might be able to think of some things to do with you while you're on your back, too," the mused, giving him another quick, dry kiss on his cheek. "I was a little worried when I saw you get hit."

"I should have been faster," he grunted. "I'm not as quick as I once was."

"No. That's another reason I should stay." She patted his shoulder. "You're old. You need people like me."

"We have Phurlin."

"No," Molley laughed, "Thansy has Phurlin. And she'll keep him too, it looks like, as well as her arm." She glanced at Gelsen across the little battlefield. "Though, from the looks of things, we might not be hanging out at that rodent-infested tower of yours."

Fewnick followed her gaze, seeing where Gelsen was still standing with that Lady. "Shit. Penfold Castle?"

She shrugged. "And maybe Jorlan's Well, eventually. She seems to like him. Who knows what the future holds?" She winked down at him. "But I know what you'll be holding, Master Fewnick."

He felt a sudden surge in his cock. But even that hurt, so he laid his head back down on the stones and decided to think about Molley some other time. From the looks of things, he'd have time.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Thanks again to Nouh Bdee for the idea of Leinyere, and to the other Lit writers who helped flesh out his world. Read their efforts!

Loqui Sordida Ad Me is planning on writing a story involving an elf-girl, since grown up, who loses a doll at Lurik's Rest. Whatever happens to her, it'll no doubt be well-written.

Thanks, also, to Juana Salsa for helpful suggestions along the way.