"I want to make a deal with you, old man."

Lizzy Stride certainly knew how to make an impression, that much was clear. She'd arrived in Dunwall not a year ago with her gang already half-formed, had managed to carve out a reputation and a nice piece of territory in an already crowded criminal underworld, and now she was personally calling out the leader of one of the oldest, deadliest gangs in town.

Mortimer Hat admired the gall so much that he actually came out to meet her.

"And what would a green girl like you have to offer me and my Hatters?" he asked, arms crossed as he leaned casually against the wall of the alley they stood in. His men watched both exits.

Lizzy, standing alone, grinned. There was an unnatural sharpness to her teeth. "I've heard your story. You used to rub elbows with the well-to-do around here, 'til too many people found out about all the blood on your hands and your customers couldn't pretend they didn't know about it anymore. Now you can't sell to anyone."

He snorted, amused at the boldness of her admittedly not inaccurate summary of events, and took a moment to study the undeniably familiar features of Lizzy's face before responding. It had been curiosity as much as admiration that truly brought him out here. He hadn't paid much mind to the rumors before, but now that she was standing in front of him, this skinny scrap of a thing calling herself a gang leader, he could see where all that talk was coming from, could see his own eyes and stubborn chin.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Make your point, girl."

"I have a ship, I have a crew, and I have papers," she said briskly. "Give me the docks along Draper's Ward – just the docks – and we can get your goods sold real quick. Won't be noble coin, but it's a better deal than the rats eating through your storehouses are giving you."

He laughed, sharp and barking. More than anything, Lizzy seemed to resemble her mother, his sweet Darina who had left him with a kiss and a knife in his side, running off with half that month's profit and several bolts of his finest cloth. He'd never loved anyone more.

He pushed away from the wall. "Come inside, girl," he said. "We'll talk business."

"I told you to keep your damn Hatters from crawling around near my ship."

Mortimer sighed and rubbed his hand down his face. So he had dragged himself all the way out here just to hear a complaint. "It's not my fault if you can't control your own borders," he said wearily.

She scoffed. "Don't give me that shit. I shouldn't have to waste time killing idiots who should know better. The first dozen or so of 'em were fun, but now it's getting irritating."

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning against the alley wall a little more heavily than he might have if it weren't just Lizzy here to take notice. He was so tired these days, and it was getting harder and harder to maintain discipline, sometimes even to get his feet under him and leave his rooms. "I'll see what I can do," he started to say, hoping to simply appease her and be done with it today, before a sudden coughing fit took hold of him, sweeping the words away.

For an instant, Lizzy started forward, stopping herself after only half a step and watching him from across the alley with a frown. "If you're planning on dropping dead of plague anytime soon, that'll also solve my problem," she said when the coughing eased off, but her brow was furrowed in a way that he dared to tell himself showed something like concern.

"It'll pass. Nothing's killed me so far," he said with a careless wave of his hand, though in truth, he knew that this sickness was lingering far longer than any others had. "I'll remind the boys where the lines are drawn and what sort of monster makes her home on the other side. Can't do much more than that, if your reputation isn't keeping them away already."

She snorted. "They shouldn't have to be afraid of me to listen to you."

"I guess you'll have to work around my failings as a leader, then."

With a roll of her eyes and a disgusted noise from the back of her throat, Lizzy turned to leave.

"Wait."

She stopped and shot a glare over her shoulder, any hint of worry on her face now completely replaced by impatience and annoyance.

Hand in his pocket, Mortimer hesitated. If she already thought him going soft and weak, this would only prove it to her. But if there was a chance she would use it… "Here," he said, pulling the folded scrap of paper from his coat and holding it out to her. "Door password into Hatter territory. I can't come running every time you have something to complain about. You can come to me next time you want to negotiate."

"It's not worth talking to you anymore," she said with a snarl. "You can't even keep the deals we already made." But she strode briskly back across the alley and snatched the paper from his hand, pocketing it without a glance at the word inside.

She had a beautiful smile, those rare times she bothered to show it. It was a shame she was angry with him today. He hoped she might come and see him in a lighter mood someday, before he breathed his last, but he knew that chance was slim. This would be it, more likely than not.

"What ever happened to your mother?"

Lizzy's shoulders tightened for a moment, startled, but she forced out a careless shrug. "Don't know. She smuggled me onto a boat heading south out of Morley when I got myself into trouble. Never saw her again after that."

He nodded slowly. "She was a survivor, that one" he said quietly, fondly. "Always knew how to get by in this world and passed it onto you, I think. Don't you ever forget that, Lizzy."

For a moment, her expression softened. It wasn't a smile, but it was something. "You don't have to worry about me, old man."