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Of all your houses in all the holds, nothing brings you quite the solace as the training room in the sewers.
Ridiculous? Perhaps. But, you'd argue, it's the most reliable place there is. A lockpick, a chest, and therefore loot. Effort reaps reward, plain and simple; which is more than can be said for what happens outside these tunnels.
“Just your typical Morndas, boss?” Rune asks cheekily as he looks up from resetting the locks, seeing you storm in with death hound collars stacked on your wrist like jewelry.
“Vampires! As if dragons coming back to life wasn't enough.” You sit on the adept locked chest and scratch furiously at your shoulder.
“Is that a-”
“Took a cure disease. I'm fine,” you interrupt him shortly.
“From sanguinare, yes.” He unbuckles the neck of your leather armor and loosens the chest strap. “From a festering open wound, no.”
“I'll drink a healing potion in a bit,” you grouse, tugging out of his grip. “After I get my hands on these chests.”
“Unfortunately, I just started,” he replies apologetically. “Only finished the one you're sitting on.”
You groan, as if any of this was his fault.
It was Cynric’s turn to reset the locks in the first place; since he was on a job, the chests had been empty for over a week.
“I guess I'll start with this one, then,” you grumble, getting back up and taking your tools out.
“Come on, I'm sure Herluin has something for that nasty bite.” Rune takes your hand and pulls you towards the Flagon.
“Vex is going to ask me why I haven't picked up any jobs this week, Tonilia’s still low on gold, and Delvin’s trying to get me to sell him the Queen Bee statue.” You dig in your heels. “I just want a bit of peace.”
“And some loot,” Rune teases with a smile.
“Some people drink to relax. I pick locks for shiny trinkets,” you return with a warning look.
“I know.” He squeezes your hand. “That's why I'm in here, doing Cynric's chores.”
“Heard I was coming back?” You ask, a smile forming.
“Boss likes her training chests, so I must oblige.” He lets go of your hand to brush your hair off your forehead, sweaty from dealing with the vampire ambush on your way back.
“Must you?” You can't help the giggle that escapes.
“Indeed.” He leads you to the table, sitting you down.
“And what else must you do?” You tease, sour mood already brightening.
“Fighting vampires creates a lot of tangles,” he adds, pulling a comb out of his pocket.
You sigh in agreement, leaning against the chair back and closing your eyes.
Patiently he works through the tangles. With a light hand trained to pick locks and pockets, he manages to undo the rat’s nest that formed, with little discomfort to you.
“That’ll do until your bath tonight.” He drops a kiss to the top of your head, not minding the greasy state today’s vampire attack has rendered.
You tilt your head back, admiring him as he looks at you fondly.
“Let me see if I can swipe a potion off that old man for you,” he says with a caress of your cheek.
You grab his hand as he turns to leave.
“Yes, boss?” He asks immediately.
“I love you, Rune.”
He blushes, looking at his feet. “I know,” he mumbles as he rushes off to the Flagon.
“Where’s he off to in such a hurry?” Sapphire ambles in, twiddling a flawless diamond between her fingers.
“New score?” You whistle appreciatively as she pulls three more diamonds out of her pockets and jingles them.
“A couple safes in Solitude, and of course the Blue Palace. Queen has fine taste,” she remarks, tucking them neatly under her armor.
“Chests aren't ready yet,” you inform her as she looks around the room.
“Of course not. Cynric's off doing Azura knows what. And Rune didn't start until you came down the ladder.”
“Rune started on the chests? I've been meaning to get some practice.” Niruin joins the conversation from down the hall.
“You know he’s only doing it ‘cause the Guild Master is back,” Sapphire reminds him. “It's obviously not for us.”
“That shill job is taking Cynric quite a long time,” Niruin comments nosily.
“Probably following Vex’s advice,” Sapphire comments. “Do job first, get drunk second. Working on the latter now, I assume.”
“You know she means get drunk after turning in the job, not while still on the job,” you chide.
“Of course we know that,” Niruin quips. “Except for Thrynn, who got in a bar brawl after he finished that bedlam job and had all his stolen goods confiscated. Including the boots he was wearing at the time.”
“Was easy getting it all back, they stashed it in a guardhouse chest. Didn't even bother locking it.” Thrynn comes to his own defense.
“Which is good, otherwise you’d have to smash it open,” Sapphire observes. “Kind of hard to do while surrounded by guards, at least without getting caught.”
“Hey, sometimes a job takes a heavy hand,” he replies easily.
“Right. Because nothing makes as good a thief as a bumbling bandit who sets off every pressure plate,” Niruin snarks.
While the two men trade barbs, Sapphire lowers her voice conspiratorially. “So, you and Rune?”
You smile, not bothering to hide it. His bed certainly didn't get any use when you were in town. You like your privacy, and he certainly likes to oblige. Even has some of his spare clothes in Honeyside now. “Mhm.”
“Odd, that romance kindled here of all places,” she comments. “Pleasant, and odd.”
“You mean the den of iniquity where Vipir tirelessly propositions you, Tonilia and Vekel bicker like old rivals, and bald old men spy on proteges in the river?” You ask, more amused than sarcastic.
“Precisely,” she replies with a roll of her eyes.
“Does defy logic,” you muse, lips twitching playfully.
She scrutinizes you briefly, before a look of surprise crosses her face. “You love him, don't you?”
“I do.”
She shakes her head with a laugh of disbelief. “You’ve told him?”
“Naturally.” You may be sly with your hands, but you speak your mind freely and you say what you mean.
“Now I'm really curious,” she admits. “Has he said it back?”
“He has not.” He's soft-spoken and unassuming, perfect for a thief. It took numerous attempts at being friendly over the course of several months before he was willing to say more than a few words to you.
Of course, getting on your knees and wrapping your lips around his cock definitely sped up the process. No need to coax the words out of him anymore; he's whispered the dirtiest ones in your ear already.
“Hmm. Shame.” Sapphire comments, not the least bit surprised.
You shrug. “Some say that silence is the music of life.”
“Someone should tell Vipir that.”
“Sorry to make you wait. Got roped into a discussion with Delvin about Stormcloaks against Imperials.” Rune hands you a healing potion.
“Politics? Not really his expertise.” You drain the bottle in a large gulp, grimacing at the taste.
“Oh, it was about which side would make us richer.”
“Figures.” You chuck the empty bottle behind an archery target and take his hand, leading him outside.
“What about the chests?”
You chuckle dryly. “I wouldn't be a very good Guild Master if I didn't even know how to set up some practice locks.”
He raises a brow. “And the contents?”
“From my personal stash.” With the help of the steed stone, you had plenty of gear and valuables on you. You included the death hound collars as well, hopefully getting rid of them would get the heat off you for a bit.
Upon hearing this, Thrynn and Niruin make a mad dash for the training room.
“What are you doing?! You hate picking locks, you filthy bandit!”
“For the boss’s stash? I'll learn to love it!”
Sapphire rolls her eyes, giving the two of you a wave goodbye.
“Not going to try your luck?” Rune asks her curiously.
She shakes her head. “I’ll take it out of their pockets once they're asleep.”
After a dip in the lake to wash off all traces of the vampire attack, you retire to Honeyside for the evening.
You sit on the bed, flipping through the books you collected during your last heist. Rune counts the septims he pocketed from the passersby on your wall back from the lake. Something is clearly on his mind though, because he's lost track around fifty seven at least twice already.
“How's the weight?” You ask him. He can usually guess to the nearest five just by touch.
He sweeps them off the table back into his pouch, testing with an expert hand. “About a hundred,” he estimates, based on weight.
“Not bad for a quick walk,” you offer.
“I need the exact number. Vipir’s using a new technique; pocketing one septim a day from us so we don't notice what's missing til it's half gone.”
You laugh dryly. “No honor amongst thieves?”
“None whatsoever.”
You lean against the headboard, watching him for a bit.
This time he doesn't even make it to thirty.
“You're being very distracting right now,” he states coyly, tossing the remainder of coins still in his pouch onto the table and getting up.
“Oh? How so?” You're in your typical nightgown which reaches your ankles and doesn't even come close to showing your breasts.
He sits next to you, tracing his index finger along your neck. There are still faint pink lines where the freshly healed bite was. “Does it still hurt?”
You smile at him, a bit curious. “Nope.”
“Good.” He trails his tongue up your throat, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh just under your jawline with a sinful groan.
You gasp in surprise, whimpering when he sucks on the love bite softly.
“You like being bitten?” He teases, adding another mark to your neck, soothing it with his tongue.
“By vampires? No. By you-”
Rune interrupts you with a searing kiss, punctuated with a bite on your bottom lip.
“By me?” He repeats with a wink as you climb onto him, straddling his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Maybe,” you admit, rocking against his hips.
He chuckles huskily, catching the lobe of your ear between his teeth and biting down.
You grind against him with panting breaths as he litters your neck and shoulders with bites, blooming bruises underneath his lips.
He looks into your eyes, pupils blown, and growls.
You almost cum from that guttural, possessive sound alone.
He tears the nightgown down your shoulder, attacking any unmarked skin with ferocity.
You shriek in surprise as he rips the neckline of your nightgown wide open, leaving it in tatters pooled around your waist.
“Rune,” you cry out as he sucks a line of bruises down your cleavage, rolling your nipples between his teeth.
Pulling away with a loud pop, he continues down your body with his lips and tongue, until he reaches the waistband of your underwear.
“Up,” he orders, but you're too dazed from the way his mouth claims you to do anything but roll your hips, rubbing your clothed nether lips along his thick length tucked under his pants.
He smirks, flipping you onto your back and yanking the offending fabrics off of you until you're laying bare beneath him.
You squirm in his grip, trying to get his pants down his legs but he clicks his tongue.
“Let me have a taste first,” he growls, hooking your knees over his shoulders and diving in.
You mewl helplessly as he licks all the way around your labia, ending with a tiny nibble on the hood of your clit.
You buck your hips upward in surprise, and he thrusts his tongue past your slit.
Weaving your hands into his roots, you hump upwards into his mouth, moaning as he fucks you with his tongue.
You move one hand to touch your clit but he intercepts it and replaces it with his own, using all his precision and finesse to bring you over the edge.
You cum with a cry, babbling his name.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, finally pulling down his trousers.
Shaking yourself out of your daze at the sight of his mouth-watering cock, you release his hair and drop your legs from his shoulders to the bed.
Before he can get his legs all the way out of his pants, you yank him down onto the bed. Rolling him onto his back, you clamber on top, rubbing your folds up and down his length a few times, coating them with slick.
“Ready?” You ask him, as if you could wait any longer. Before he can answer, you drive your hips down, taking him to the hilt.
He groans as you work yourself up and down, knocking the headboard against the wall as you ride him.
He grabs your butt cheeks in his palms, squeezing with a growl.
You tip your head back and laugh, picking up your pace until he spills inside you with a powerful thrust.
Sighing in satisfaction, you climb off him and collapse on your back onto the mattress.
“Didn't bite too hard, did I?” Rune asks softly as he turns onto his side and kisses a mark on your shoulder that's turning purple.
You shake your head, closing your eyes and feeling a sudden wave of tiredness overtake you.
He climbs out of bed and fetches a washcloth, and does his best to clean his spend from between your legs. You barely register his touch as you drift off.
“Ninety seven,” you mumble drowsily.
“Hmm?” He smooths a hand across your belly gently.
“Ninety seven septims. You lost count; I didn't.”
He tosses the washcloth onto the pile of soiled clothes you’d stacked in the corner of the room, looking at you with amusement. “Nothing escapes your eye, boss.”
Too sleepy to bother with a reply, you curl onto your side without a word. Rune tucks a quilt around you, getting back into bed beside you, careful not to move the quilt around or jostle you awake.
One last thing slips out as you drift off.
“I love you, Rune.”
His heart swells as the words ring in his ear, always catching him off guard no matter how many times he's heard it.
He opens his mouth, wanting to answer differently, but nothing else ever makes it out.
“I know.”
You're in your room of solace once more, resetting the master lock when Etienne sidles up to you.
“Any reason why Vipir is sulking by the cooking pot with a black eye, Guild Master?”
You listen carefully for the last pin dropping in place. “Probably deserves it.”
He laughs dryly. “So it's true. He was stealing from Rune again.”
You step away from the chest, dusting off your hands. “Guild rules: don't steal from our own people-”
“Unless you can do it without getting caught.” Sapphire joins in. “Haven't seen anyone dumb enough to try it on Rune until now.”
“He’s a light sleeper,” you comment.
“Right, like that's the real reason,” she drawls sarcastically.
“What's the real reason?” Etienne asks under his breath as the two of them walk away.
“I’ll fill you in over an ale,” she replies smoothly.
You're plucking the ebony arrows Niruin practiced with out of the archery targets when you feel a pair of arms around your waist.
“Fighting my battles for me?” Rune asks, pulling you into his chest and nuzzling your ear.
“Just a passing reminder,” you say breezily, dropping the arrows into your quiver.
“Surely you can afford your own,” he teases, kissing the crown of your head.
“Cleared out Bersi’s home already?” You deflect, picking up your bow and hitching it over your shoulder.
“Ah, so you were waiting for me.” He smirks knowingly, pinching your cheek. “Off to the mage’s college, perhaps?”
“Can't let Tolfdir do all the work. See you in a week.” You press a lingering kiss to his lips, before turning and heading into the cistern.
“Come back in one piece, you hear?” He calls after you.
You grunt in acknowledgement, making your way to the back exit.
“I think he might just feel the same as you,” Sapphire whispers conspiratorially as you pass by her.
You grin as you climb the ladder, muttering that same phrase under your breath.
“I know.”