Of Fiends and Misfortune Pt. 02

"Oh. Um, sure." He slid around the parameter of the room, leaving enough room for at least one large person to fit between the pair. This seemed satisfactory to Marina.

"So how did Jack the Dead manage to come back to life?"

He regaled her with the tale of his from hours earlier, leaving out as much detail as possible about his pitifully one-sided match against Dritver and Garrett.

"That sounds like an awful morning! Are you hurt?" Marina rubbed his bicep affectionately.

"No, nothing too bad." He knew he was lying, but his wounds could always be addressed tomorrow. "That reminds me, I need to talk to Alyssim's leaders about those men."

"Two fanatics who seem to have it out for Tieflings? Bah." Marina waved her hand. "It's nothing we haven't dealt with before. By all means, bring it up to the governor or Aldermen, but I would wait until after the Festival. I doubt anyone will be happy with an interruption right now."

Jack nodded, realizing Marina had narrowed the gap between them during his story.

"So, what type of work did you do back in the city? Adria mentioned you were a scout." She slung one leg onto the bench and folded her arms onto the back of the couch before resting her head on them.

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm a scout exactly. It's a lot of the same skill set: tracking, athleticism, moving as quietly as possible. Sometimes it does lead into the woodlands, so you do have to have some navigation and survival expertise"

"So, what is it that you do?"

He thought for a moment. His job was just whatever contract was assigned to him. Usually, it involved stealing from or killing a target. Or intimidating clients into paying protection money. Or just tracking down and obtaining a specific item, with various clearances of violence permitted. "Asset management." He finally answered.

"Really?" She said, skeptical. "I'm curious what kind of assets require that kind of heavy lifting." She was waving a finger from Jack's neck to lap.

He hadn't noticed, but the robe had widely split above the belt, revealing a large portion of his chest and stomach. "Um, high risk ones." He responded hastily, closing the robe. He immediately regretted it when Marina turned back away from him. Damn it, why did he do that?

"Sorry, sorry, I won't pry anymore." She said despondently.

"...I'm a contract killer and thief." He blurted out.

"What?"

"That's what I did back in Hillsfar. I worked for a guild known as the Cloak and Daggers. I took on assignments and committed various acts of violence for pay. It's not something I'm proud of. But there it is."

"Huh." She didn't look appalled or fearful. "I feel like your story suddenly makes a lot more sense." She turned towards the sleeping old man on the other side of the room, whom Jack nearly forgot about. "Hey Silas? Silas?? SILAS!" He finally startled awake when she screamed his name. "Would you be able to do the final round? I already shut down the clinic." The old man nodded before slowly standing and shuffling off without saying a word. She followed behind the old man as he left the tiny building.

Jack first noticed that she was a rather short woman, as her head passed under the oil lamps without grazing them. By his estimation, he was probably about a foot taller than she. The second thing he noticed was her backside. The flowing fabric clung to her so he could see every crease, curve, and crevasse of her thick thighs and round, full ass. Her graceful tail swept side to side, accentuating the way her hips swayed hypnotically in just the few steps she took between their seat and the doorway. Jack tried to gather some of the fabric of his robe into his lap, an attempt to hide his growing interest.

"You're the best, Silas!" Marina yelled out the doorway. She closed the curtain and turned back towards Jack. "Do you mind? It's chilly." Jack shook his head, staring, as she sauntered her way back to the couch. Her body was even more magnificent from the front. A perfectly proportioned hour-glass, her thick hips tapered into a small waist before his eyes were drawn up to her voluptuous breasts. Like the back of the dress, its front also clung to her and revealed a fantastic amount of detail. He could see the crease hinting between her legs and flowing along the tops of thigh, outlining exactly where Jack wished to trace with his fingers and tongue. The fabric was taut across her shapely chest, the cloth shanks clasping the dress together slightly strained. Her hard nipples were barely visible through the thick linen. Jack wanted nothing more than pop open the buttons, one by one, and feel each mound of flesh overflow in his hands, while he ran his tongue along the tight space between them.

No. This was not fair to her, she did not ask for this. Jack was getting ready to mentally fuck her, for what? Existing in the same room as him?

"Hey, so I think I'm going to go." He said, as she sat down next to him.

"Is something wrong?" She probed, placing a hand on his as he hurried to put distance between them.

"No, nothing's wrong. Just think it's time for me to go."

"Oh." Her voice sounded as if Jack just delivered some devastating news. "Well, I certainly won't hold you down. But I was really, really hoping you would stay just a little bit longer."

He could have left then and there. Instead, he found himself scooting back into his original seat. "Why?"

Marina shrugged. "Because I find you intriguing and attractive and I was really looking forward to us staying here and passionately kissing for a bit, if you were interested." Her eyes locked onto his, as if challenging him to move.

"I... don't believe you." He said.

Marina stroked his cheek, moving in even closer as their bodies began to press against each other. "Would you like me to prove it to you, then?" She breathed, long lashes fluttering as she narrowed her eyes. She was so close Jack could smell, no taste, her, like fruit and honey.

He stared at her lips, soft and pouted and inches from his. Fuck it.

He pressed his lips to hers, hoping he remembered what to do. It had been years since he kissed anyone, suddenly realizing that, even with everything he and Adria did the previous night, they never actually kissed.

She draped her arms behind his neck, melting into him as she returned the gesture with even more affection. He put his arms around her waist in response, ignoring the pain shooting from his shoulder. Jack tried to mirror her movements and passion, terrified of offending her with too much inhibition or vigor.

An urgency seemed to awaken in Marina as she softly moaned and sought out his tongue with her own. Holding him tightly, Jack could feel her coaxing him to press against her as she leaned back on the soft bench. He tried to keep his body somewhat lifted from hers, partially due to the awkward angle of the couch, but mostly because his robe was impossible to hold close now. His cock, which had been frustratingly fluctuating in rigidity all day, was begging him to press onward. He suspected Marina felt the same way as he her legs spread, locking an ankle behind one of his knees.

"Gods, yes..." He gasped, breaking their kiss to catch his breath. He was thankful for the relaxing herbal mix they had just smoked as Marina gently pressed her hips against his.

She moved her mouth down to his neck as she began running her hands along his back, pulling the robe down over his shoulders. Her fingers reached the bandage he had applied that afternoon. She fiddled with it, then unclamped her body from his.

"You're injured." She said, her demeanor switching from aroused to concerned while still under him.

"It's nothing, really. Just something from this morning." He nuzzled back into her, desperate to reset the mood. "Please, please, can we just keep going?" Jack felt as if his manhood would simply break off if he had a repeat of the previous night.

Marina's fingers pulled off the dressing before grazing her finger across the wound. Jack involuntarily rasped as the searing pain spread from his shoulder.

"That," Marina declared "does not feel like nothing. Come on, up. Let me see." She patted him twice on his other shoulder, shimmying her way out from under him.

He sat up and took several extremely long drags from the pipe before turning away from her, letting Marina pull the robe off his shoulders. "What in the nine hells happened here?!" She demanded, tapping her fingers along the edges of the wound.

"I... may have been stabbed," Jack admitted.

"Yeah, no shit. What were you going to do, just leave it? This could've festered, then you'd be looking at losing your entire damn arm."

"I've had worse."

"Perhaps, but not on my watch." She pulled her bag off the floor and rummaged through it. "Damn, nothing I have on me will do any good for a wound this deep. We're going to have to go back to my house."

He turned back towards her and tried to hand her the hose. "Marina, really, please stop worrying. I'm sure it just looks much worse than it actually is. I mean hells, if anything, my eye hurts worse."

"The eye under the sash?" Jack nodded slowly. She had it off in less than a second. "What the fuck, Jack, can you even see out of it?" Marina said sharply. He shook his head hesitantly. "Unbelievable. Let's go." She clasped his wrist and they traveled through the darkness.

At some point, Jack just stopped listening as Marina chastised him for the entire several minute walk to her home. "Why didn't you find a healer immediately?" "Do you have any idea how much damage you caused by waiting?" "I hope whatever dilly-dallying you were doing was worth your eye-sight! It's probably never going to come back!" When they reached the cozy wooden house, she finally let go of his wrist. "Okay, inside." She ordered him.

Jack stopped. "Look, Marina." He sighed, rubbing the space between his eyes. "Thank you for your generous offer to fix me up. But if you're just going to scold me like a child the entire time, I'm going to go find a different healer or something. You... have a good night." He turned and ambled into the darkness, realizing it was probably a mistake. But, as he learned from Adria who had spoken to him in a strikingly similar tone, no one, no matter how pretty or sexually promising they may seem, was worth his self-respect.

"Jack, wait!" Marina had followed him, and gently took his hand. "You're absolutely right." She said. "And I'm really sorry. Just please come inside? No more scolding, I swear." Her expression and voice were heavy with remorse.

He paused, Marina reminding him less and less of her sister as she looked up at him with genuine guilt. He nodded and walked back with her, satisfied with her apology thus far. "To be honest, I'm not normally such a harpy. I think I was caught a bit off guard. I've never known someone to be so collected and um... functional with such severe injuries. A lesser man probably would have approached me crawling and writhing in pain."

Marina showed him inside the small house, which opened up into a tight living space. The room itself was brimming with a rich variety of odds and ends, from books and drying plants, to arrows and animal skins, scattered about the eclectic array of furniture in an organized chaos. As they walked past the hearth tucked in the back of the square room, Marina threw in a bundle of herbs off the mantle onto a stack of logs in the fireplace. She lit a match, and the fire quickly roared, warming the small home in its glow.

"Lemon grass and beeswax." Marina stated, noticing Jack's inquisitive look at the bundles. "Works better than a tinderbox, in my experience. Anyway, come along, this way." She pulled back a curtain that previously blended into the wall.

On the other side was a tiny bedroom. The bed was centered on the far wall, wedged between two small chests of drawers. It was large enough for a couple to share for a few nights but would probably become tediously tight long term. There was also a small but thorough grooming table, with an abundance of bottles, bowls, and tools; the purposes of which Jack couldn't even begin to fathom. The opposite wall had been entirely replaced with a floor-to-ceiling apothecary cabinet, which Marina had already started scouring through. "Please, make yourself comfortable." She gestured at the bed, not looking up from the drawers.

Jack slowly sat down at the foot of the bed, trying his best to avoid bumping anything on his way. As he sank into the feather-down mattress, he stared into the floor length mirror facing him. He could see the area around his right eye was heavily bruised. His large, normally solid black iris seemed to be drowning in a pool of blood within in his eyeball. Shit, it did look pretty nasty.

He saw Marina hop onto the bed behind him. He watched her through the mirror as she laid out several bottles and a handful of metal tools next to him.

"Let's see what we got," She muttered, kneeling being him and gently sliding the robe off his shoulders. "Okay, this may sting a little," she warned, popping off the stopper on the first bottle. Jack cringed as she doused the wound in a burning liquid. "Sorry," she said, gently massaging his opposite shoulder to distract from the radiating pain "I know its uncomfortable, but it will only hurt for a few moments, then you'll be glad I did it."

"It's fine. Thank you again for doing all this."

"You're welcome." She smiled at him through the mirror.

Suddenly, his shoulder stopped hurting, in fact, he couldn't even feel where he got stabbed. It was like that portion of his body had just been completely removed. "Marina! I-I can't feel it at all..."

"Yeah, that's because I numbed it of course. Fantastic poppy-based blend here." She replied, shaking the bottle. "Why do you look so shocked?"

"Is that something you came up with? Usually, the guild's healer would just stitch me up and send me on my way."

"That's completely barbaric!" Marina gasped, tracing one of his other long scars with her finger. "And it is not something I came up with. I'm fairly certain blends like these are common everywhere."

"Fascinating." Jack responding coldly, reminiscing of the many painful memories from inside the Hillsfar infirmary.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Marina said, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his uninjured shoulder. "No wonder you were so hesitant to find a healer. You must have been through so much agony." Jack nodded, distracted by her breathe on his neck and her chest pressed hard against his back, seemingly getting closer and closer to popping out of her dress. "Well, I'll try to make this a much more pleasurable experience..."

Before Jack could turn to face her, she had already pulled away and begun selecting her instruments from the pile besides him. "Keep forward and hold still, please." She said, suddenly stringent.

For the next several minutes, Marina did not acknowledge Jack as a person, but rather a canvas. She would not catch his gaze in the mirror or give any touches of affection. He felt nothing of the procedure, except the occasional odd bit of pressure. Jack was tempted to initiate conversation while he watched on; ask her how she learned to be a healer, or if she was from Alyssim or a pilgrim, or what other interests she held outside of herbalism. He was itching to get to know the woman who's interest he was so fortunate to have peaked. However, if there was one characteristic he could ascertain from her staunch expression and methodical procedure, it was that Marina was not one who appreciated an interruption when focused.

"Okay, the difficult part is over." She said proudly, rubbing a final layer of some mysterious cream to the area. "Now, I'm not the best seamstress around, but that should be sufficient for the wound to heal up in a few weeks. As long as it doesn't fester, and you limit the use of this arm. So no bow shooting or sword swinging."

"A few weeks?"

Marina began bandaging back and chest snugly, wrapping her arms around him with every pull. "Yes. I'm sure you'll find there's much worse places than Alyssim to recover. You'll be galivanting around the forest again soon enough." Jack resisted the urge to grumble as she tied off the bandage. "Now for your eye, unfortunately there's not much more we can do other than waiting and seeing if your vision comes back. But keeping it covered in the meantime is a good idea." She handed him a stiff black eye patch to replace the makeshift one he had been wearing.

Jack thanked her and put it on, examining himself in the mirror. Between the beard, horns, and now eyepatch he had to admit he didn't hate this new look.

Marina began clearing the tools from her bed. "Well, what do you want to do now?"

He was unsure what Marina wanted to hear. Most truthfully, he simply wanted to fall back and go to sleep after the exhausting weeks he just endured. However, he was tempted to suggest they resume their activities from the smoking hut as Marina leaned over Jack to grab a stray bottle of salve. The indecision hung heavy. "I'm open to anything." He finally replied.

"Hm... Do you drink?" She asked.

"Yes." Jack answered definitively.

***

A few hours had passed, and the pint of Dark Elf spirits that Marina had uncorked was half empty.

"It was a gift from some Drow traders we hosted a few months back. You could drink it straight, but it's better to mix it with water and sugar cane if you'd rather like your wits come tomorrow." Marina had explained, handing him a cup of the diluted, black, swirling liquor.

Over the course of four bitter glasses, the pair sat cozy on the sofa in the cluttered living room. They had changed out of their Festival wear early on in the evening; with Jack wearing the outfit he stole from the drying line, and Marina donning just a comfortable, massively oversized tunic who's hem reached just to her mid-thigh. They let the booze do its job as social lubricant, spending the majority of their time just talking about what ever crossed their minds.

However, it became apparent that Marina was a rather emphatic conversationalist, often leaning into Jack or letting her hand linger on his thigh or arm. At one point, Jack completely lost track of her story about some injured baby deer when she suddenly laid back on the couch and stretched her bare legs across his lap, asking if he minded. He shook his head as he awkwardly placed his hands on her smooth shins. If her goal had been to turn him on, it was working. The hem of her shirt had wrinkled all the way up her thighs as the loose, thin fabric draped across her upper body to emphasize each curve. If she wanted your hands to wander, she would say so. He reminded himself of how direct she was in the smoking hut. Marina seemingly finished her tale before refilling their glasses and resuming her original upright position, much to Jack's dismay.

The slow sipping had placed Jack at the perfect level of insobriety: enough to momentarily forget his anxiety, but not nearly enough to allow his actions to cause later anxiety. He was thankful for this, as Marina continued to press him for details of his life back in Hillsfar and tales of dangerous missions.

"I'm sorry, I just don't see how that's all that impressive." Marina shrugged, finishing off the last of her drink. "I mean, aren't you trained in knife throwing and all that?"

"I threw an unbalanced kitchen knife and took out a house guard's tongue from over 20 feet away." He repeated the detail of a last year's mission, where he successfully intimidated a stubborn noble to pay up the protection money she owed. "C'mon that's pretty damn amazing."

"Okay, the tongue part I'll give you. But throwing a kitchen knife from here to there?" Marina pointed towards the wall above the hearth with the dying fire. "I bet you I could do that."