The Altmer girl had fire in her eyes that made his own seem dead cinders. Edd Theman quickened his pace through the mist-shrouded morning streets, barely noticing the chill air from the rush of blood that still darkened his sunken cheeks. She also had a lashing tongue that would be deadly if she were a mage.
He turned the next corner aimlessly, deciding on the alley, where there would be less growling Hlaalu guard dogs. He had nowhere to go, really. The excesses of the night had emptied anything useful from his coin purse, and it would take long days and perhaps long fingers to refill. But considering the rather...awkward situation she'd woke to, he felt the need to give them both more space than his hole in the wall could allow.
Muthsera.
He didn't really feel guilt over having rifled through her knapsack while she slept; he knew damn well she'd have done the same with his meager belongings, had she awakened first. As did she. He hadn't needed to nose through her "friend" to know he'd brought a thief home, either. It was obvious the girl was looking to steal something other than his heart the more she slipped around his admittedly slippery invitations. With several protective spells on his long throat, though, he was willing to take a risk.
She was progressively proving herself to be harmless, however. No wonder the Imperials caught her. The sharpest thing that menaced him when he was discovered were her angry words, and even those flagged to indignant silence, as though she knew she were being a hypocrite. She probably did realize. She was surprisingly well-written for a thief, though her untidy scrawl in the tattered journal made that difficult to ascertain at first. Maybe she stole books? He smiled sardonically, teeth shocking bright against his sooty flesh. She was welcome to the few he owned. Perhaps The Real Barenziah would awaken those other appetites she pretended to have.
He shook his head, bony fingers reflexively seeking to smooth the short red-brown ponytail at his neck. He couldn't help but dwell on the glorious treasure that was held out to him in false temptation, then withdrawn behind walls of stone and flame. Though at this point, in all realism, he couldn't truly make it worth her while. From crab and flin to kwama eggs and murky river water, both boiled to bitterness. If she was still at the apartment, he doubted she would stay long at that rate.
Still, he hoped she would. The Empire had some interest in her, and it was as much a puzzle to him as it was to her. But unlike the poor, lovely tower of rags and wicked thoughts, he knew enough of the bigger picture of Morrowind to want to know where this golden piece fit. It made a nice change of pace from fuming over the bastard duo of Gothren and Drathas.
Even the passing thought of them shadowed the lopsided smile over with the darkest scowl. He had to lie low, after that fracas, he reminded himself; wait for the chance to stick their treachery up their nether cheeks, just as they had lain in wait for him. Maybe after old Therana finally went on to the spirit world to be reunited with her mind, and before one of them could do the other in.
So, if he couldn't lie low beneath rough hempen sheets tangled around the Altmer, he may as well try to by nobly offering to escort a lost lady to her questionable business with the Imperials. A fellow rat, after all. She had no use for his body, but she would certainly find use for his mind.
The sun finally roused, angling to guide him back to the riverside at last. There were opportunities everywhere save House Telvanni this morning. You just had to be quick enough to snatch them. And he certainly wasn't called Fast Eddie for his luck with women.