Kirsty wiped the counter impatiently, though she had just cleaned it fifteen minutes ago. Wrothken had been gone for a few days and not one single letter from him, letting her know he was okay. He was a big boy and could take care of himself, but still. He promised.

She watched the courier and his sack of letters pass the bakery yet again. She huffed and threw the rag down hard. As soon as he came back, she was going to beat him silly.

A sweet, spicy scent filled the area, letting her know that the sweet rings were done. She carefully took them out and set them in a basket that sat on the counter. A few people were already starting to gather and in moments they were sold out. Some left disappointed that the latest favorite was gone, but Kirsty was happy to sell them chocolate filled croissants or strawberry muffins instead.

She almost forgot her sour mood when Awour entered with another other girl. Kirsty took a deep slow breath, trying hard not to fantasize about jumping over the counter and beating some sense into her. Awour didn't dare ordering anything, which was good. Kirsty wouldn't risk her shop by poisoning her, but there were so many other vile things that could be done to a person's food.

Awour and the other girl sat at one of the tables in the center of the room. "I still can't believe he left like that," the other girl said.

Awour shrugged. "I almost couldn't either, but then again, he wasn't much of a man in the first place. Now, Bacchus..." She licked her lips. "Now, that's a man! You know he left last night for the Imperial City? He's training to be a legionnaire."

Kirsty's heart pounded. If Wrothken and Bacchus were both were heading in that direction and happened to run into each other, then there would be a new reason to call it the Red Road.

"Least Wrothken did something good, though," Awour continued.

"What?"

"He left these," she said, lifting her hair up to reveal a pair of diamond earrings. "And this," she said, showing off a topaz ring. "I'm gonna go sell them tomorrow, though." She laughed. "He ran away and he doesn't know that he'll be paying for my new wardrobe!"

The two of them cackled loudly.

"Excuse me," Kirsty said, her ears burning. "After all the hard work he put into saving up to buy that jewelry for you, you're just going to get rid of it like that?"

Awour scoffed. "Look, I know you're friends with him, but what I do with my things is frankly none of your business."

Kirsty shook with rage. She had a point. Like it or not, they were hers to do with what she wished, but after the weeks of saving and scrimping Wrothken had done...

"Speaking of," Awour continued. "Where is he anyway? His clothes are way too big to fit Bacchus and I don't want them cluttering up my house anymore."

"Your house? He's the one that bought the place!"

"And he's also the one that ran off with his tail between his legs, so by default, the house is mine now, along with all the stuff that I can sell off. That way while Bacchus is in the Imperial City training, I can support myself."

The tremors in her body were visible to anyone watching. She glanced at her chopping knife, wishing with all her might she could teach her. Wrothken was a great man, with a heart that was obviously too big for his own good. If he wasn't so brotherly toward her, she would've scooped him up immediately.

"You know what? I know one thing for sure. Once he's recovered from your selfish betrayal, he's going to be glad you did what you did, and he's going to find someone a lot better than you. Not that it's going to be difficult. You set that bar very, very low. Now you, and the trash you brought with you, can get out of my bakery before I call the guards."

Awour stood up with her jaw clenched. She knocked over her chair and then she and her friend left. Kirsty's sour mood had turned completely bitter.

By late evening, Kirsty was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she repeatedly mixed up orders. Most people were understanding; they thought she wasn't used to working alone. In reality, her conversation with Awour made her really stop and think about the black and white in which she had previously saw stealing.

Her entire life she was taught that with hard work, you could have anything. Her mother died during childbirth, so her father had to work twice as hard to support his young daughter. He was often gone from the time she was awake until she had fallen asleep at night. When he was home, he had to fill the role of father and mother. Through everything he did, he was able to give her a comfortable life. She always ate and had beautiful clothes.

When she was old enough, she decided to move to Cyrodiil. She lived close, so the journey wasn't expected to be hard. Her problem was surviving when she got there. Her first job was harvesting grapes for wine near Skingrad. Eventually she saved enough to have a little cart so she could sell pastries outside of the arena in Kvatch. After years of skipping meals just to have enough spare septims to make more pastries and perfect her recipes, she finally bought the Iron Champion bakery, conveniently located across the road from the arena. In all that time, she never resorted to stealing. In her not-quite-so-humble opinion, the Gray Fox, if he was indeed real, should hang. She said it often and believed it...until now.

When the bakery first opened its doors, Wrothken was there to ensure that things stayed under control because, when a busty Bosmer with a high-pitched voice tells a group of drunken idiots to shut up, they laugh and pay her no mind. When a tall, broad shouldered Nord says it, mouths shut and drunks magically sober up a little. It wasn't his dream job, but he never complained. In fact, he was happy to do it so that he could buy little gifts for his beloved. It made Kirsty sick to imagine them pawned off so she could lay about all day. As much as she hated to do it, she needed expert help with what she was about to do.

After locking the doors behind her, Kirsty set off for the alleys in the west side of town. She draped a cloak over herself with the hood casting a shadow over her eyes. Skooma sellers glanced over at her as did a few working girls standing outside the brothel. Kirsty quickly averted her eyes, keeping them at the ground.

She walked to a man laying on the ground in ratty clothes. "Um...excuse me," she said. "Are you a beggar?"

The man snorted and rolled over, facing away from her. "Listen, I need to speak to the..." She cleared her throat. "The Gray Fox. Can you tell him that I need some things stolen?"

Cheers, clinking of glasses, and roars of laughter echoed in the Dancing Minotaur. It was the same every night, but special to each of them none the less. Each night symbolized another day survived and a chance to drink away their worries until morning when they returned.

Lilitu Serano sat at in the center of the room, toasting not just to another day, but to her new position in Kvatch.

A drunken Redguard lifted her glass high and said, "To never again having to take a long trip with our goods!"

The crowd roared, toasting up their glasses and bottles.

"Hey, hey!" The Orc woman behind the counter called. "Don't forget today is Little Frankie's birthday!" She nudged a quiet Breton, smiling shyly behind light brown waves.

The crowd cheered as she brought out a small cake with nineteen candles in it. Frankie blew it out and as everyone toasted once more, Lilitu asked, "Did you make a wish?"

"I did, can you make it come true?"

"Depends. What'd you wish for?"

He blushed and smiled. "A kiss from you."

Everyone hooted and hollered as Lilitu gasped in mock indignation. "Oh, aren't you smooth!" She winked. "But alas, Armand Christophe has banned me from consorting with anymore guild members."

"He banned you?" The Orc asked. "Good grief, what did you do to those poor men?"

Lilitu smiled slyly. "Who said anything about the men?"

As the room resonated with laughs, Lilitu caught sight of a robed person speaking to a beggar. Something about it looked off to her. An Imperial joined Lilitu, staring out. "That's Kirsty," he said. "She's got a bakery on the other side of town."

Lilitu looked at the Imperial. He was slightly shorter than her and very stocky. He had auburn hair that looked like it hadn't seen a brush in a couple days. His light skin was spattered with red-brown freckles. While he stared at Kirsty, his eyes seemed to set on fire.

"How do you know her?" Lilitu asked. "And if she lives in that upscale area, what's she doing talking to a beggar? And who're you anyway? Not Thieves Guild, I'm guessing."

"Name's Capaneus. Capaneus Tempestius. I'm not with the guild, but believe me when I say I know everything there is to know about everyone around here. 'Cept you, of course. Not yet, anyway." He grinned widely, a smile that would have charmed Lilitu if the statement didn't creep her out. Last thing she needed was another stalker. "I've had my eye on Kirsty since she came here... I'm not sure what she wants with that guy though. Maybe he stole something of hers."

"It would make more sense for her to call the guard when it happened, not wait until now." She put her hand on her hip, squinting. "He looks like he's getting irritated. I better have a look."

Stubborn old goat! Kirsty had done everything from throwing coins at him to pleading, but he wouldn't tell her where to find the Gray Fox! With every second wasted, she became increasingly aware of people staring at her. If she shouted, would the guards hear her over that seedy tavern across the road?

"Listen, I really need help with this and he's the only one that can do it!"

"Listen, girly," he spat. "I ain't got time for your little troubles! If you don't carry your pretty little rear away from me-"

"What's the trouble?"

Kirsty nearly jumped, hearing the other voice. It belonged to a Dunmer, who stood next to the beggar.

"This little busybody keeps pestering me about the damn Gray Fox! Everyone knows that's just a myth, don't they?"

"Of course," she said, winking to the old man.

"Please," Kirsty said. "I just need to speak to him!"

"Why?" The Dunmer asked, her eyebrows arching up.

"I need him to steal something for me."

"Hmmm..." She said thoughtfully. "Alright, just come with me."

Kirsty hesitated. "Where?"

"To discuss this privately. After all, the Gray Fox isn't the only one with eyes and ears, if you catch my drift."

"Right," she said.

The house wasn't as grand as the ones near her bakery, but it wasn't as worn down as the houses in the seedier parts of town. It was slim, sandwiched between others like it, and made of dark stone. There was a small yard enclosed by a wooden gate.

The dark elf knocked twice on the door. "Dolce, unlock."

After a moment, there was a loud click and she opened the door. "Good girl!" She cooed. A short dog jumped onto the dark elf, her tail wagging with delight. However, once it saw Kirsty, it barked ferociously, her hackles raised.

"Dolce, no!" The dark elf said. "Get in bed."

The dog growled softly, but turned and went back inside.

"Sorry," she said. "Dolce is like a man in that the only way to her heart is through her stomach. Anyway," she said, offering Kirsty a seat at the table. "We haven't been properly introduced. My name is Lilitu Serano. And you are...?"

Kirsty hesitated.

"I know you're trying to be anonymous, with that...outfit, but seriously, if I posed any danger, I'd rob you and lock you up in the basement and no one would say a peep." Kirsty went numb at the very thought. "Just think of this as an ordinary business transaction."

"Okay, I suppose. I'm Kirsty," she said, removing her hood.

Looking around, Kirsty was surprised at how much red the Dunmer's house contained. Red curtains, red table cloth, red candles, red cushions on the reddish couch. In the light of the house, Kirsty noticed that her hair was red, though her black eyebrows revealed that the color was unnatural. She wore a red corset with black pants. Her lips were stained dark red. The only gems on her jewelry were rubies.

"Oh wow..." She said. "It's so..."

"Red?" Lilitu smiled. "Well, except Dolce's things. They're all blue." Lilitu stroked the petals of a red flower in a silver vase. "Someone once told me that colors can attract certain things. Blue is said to be calming and protective. My precious Dolce is my protection and the gods know she needs to calm down some."

"And red?"

"Desire, energy, excitement...passion." Her eyes glittered for a moment. "But we've gotten off topic. Now, about the items you want stolen..."

"Aren't you going to tell the Gray Fox?"

Lilitu laughed a little. "If people knew where to find him, he'd be in a lot of trouble. After all, people can easily infiltrate to spy on us. It happened all the time back in the Imperial City. What usually happens is someone contacts a doyen, and the doyen picks out a thief to go do the job."

"Oh." Kirsty was surprised to see that it was somewhat organized. "And are you a doyen?"

"Not yet," she said. "I'm a fence. However, as the doyen here is... occupied, to put it politely, why don't you tell me what it is you want and I'll pass the word on?"

"Right, well, they're in town. It's just a couple items that I'm concerned about. A pair of diamond earrings and a topaz ring. The problem is, I don't know if she sleeps with them on or not."

Lilitu nodded, twirling the curled end of her ponytail. "Don't worry, our thieves are highly talented. Who's currently in possession of the jewelry?"

"Her name is Awour. She's got long, really long, longer than yours even, blond hair, green eyes-"

"Today, was she wearing a light green dress, with long sleeves and silver trim around the cuffs? Kind of a round face for a high elf? An attitude problem?"

"You know her?"

"I wouldn't say know her... I just moved here a couple days ago, but I did meet her this morning. She caused quite a scene earlier. She was rather insistent petting Dolce. My precious baby doesn't like strangers very much and… well, she almost pulled back a stump. Then she had the nerve to try and report her as a dangerous….mutt." The word seemed to bring out a certain anger in Lilitu. "Anyway, since she's such a pain, I'll take care of it myself and I'll do it for free."

"What? Are you sure?"

She leaned back in her chair. "Completely. I was just trying to think up a good reason to get her back and now I have it." She leaned forward, placing her hand on Kirsty's. "Thank you." You'll have the jewelry tomorrow morning."

Kirsty stood up. "I… Thank you." She went to the door, pausing to say, "You know, I never thought I'd ever do something like this."

"You think I pictured myself working for the Gray Fox? Some things just happen. Just one thing, though."

"What's that?"

"I need to know where she lives."

Kirsty led her outside. "It's that house there," she pointed. "The one with the purple curtain."

"Great. See you tomorrow."

Kirsty nodded and went back to her bakery. She couldn't help smiling as she passed Wrothken's house. She envied Lilitu. She would've sold her soul to be the one to rob Awour blind in the middle of the night.

When Kirsty left, Lilitu found herself staring after her. That girl is certainly blessed by Dibella, she thought. Dark, shiny hair, cool brown eyes, a cute little beauty mark above her plump lips. And that figure! She'd kill for it. She sighed, shaking her head. Some girls have all the luck, she thought.

She opened her curtains and placed a chair so she could keep an eye on Awour's window. First step was waiting for her to fall asleep. Shortly before meeting Kirsty, the chapel bell rang ten times. Sadly, without the opportunity to watch her for days, she had no idea what time she usually went to bed or if she slept alone. She considered asking Capaneus, but she knew if she went back to the Dancing Minotuar, she'd get caught up in the merrymaking and forget all about Kirsty's request.

Lilitu couldn't tell how many minutes had passed, but she knew that she couldn't stare at the window too much longer. She was starting to get antsy. Her favorite book sat on the table by the couch. She leaned over and grabbed it, opening it up to where she left off. Within seconds, she was swooning. Romance novels were her guiltiest pleasure.

Before she knew it, the bells chimed twelve times. She set her book down, wondering where eleven o'clock went. She must have been so focused in the book that she didn't notice. Awour's window was dark, but she wasn't sure for how long. She smiled, opening the book back up. Just three chapters and she'd get ready. That was plenty of time for Awour to sleep.

Three chapters became four, since Lilitu couldn't stop once it got heated. She giggled, fanning herself with the book.

She went up to her room and slipped into more comfortable clothing. She pulled her hair back into a bun and put a cowl on over it, to avoid letting any red strands loosen and fall to the floor. After grabbing her lock picking set and a silver ring enchanted with night eye, she left the light on in her bedroom to make it appear that she was still home. She blew Dolce a kiss, as she always did before leaving her alone in the house. Not only was it a way of saying goodbye, it let Dolce know that it was time for guard mode. Dolce sat in front of the door, ready to do her job. As she exited the house, she put her lips to the door. "Dolce, lock." After a click, she whispered, "Good doggie."

Not many people were on the streets so late at night. The occasional guard passed by, but he paid her no mind. He probably wouldn't even recognize her in the morning if the passed each other again.

When the area was clear, she stopped in front of Awour's door. She placed her hand on the knob and barely twisted. It was locked. She looked around to make sure no one was around. She double checked and then took out her pick. Slowly, she slipped it into the lock, gently moving it around to get a feel for the pins inside. She laughed softly, counting only three pins. It wasn't that strong of a lock. She twisted it counter-clockwise first, immediately feeling it stop. She turned it the other way and felt a little more room to move. She carefully pushed each one up, feeling the second one to be the most stubborn. She pushed it up repeatedly until it set in its place. Then she moved on to the first and third. Once they set, she looked around once more and went in.

She slipped the ring on, cursing in her mind as it was still slightly too big. Damn her skeletal fingers. She balled her fist tightly, to keep it from falling off. When she blinked everything was light blue.

The place was simply furnished. A loveseat in front of the fireplace, a little table next to it. In the kitchen, there was a small, round table and two chairs. The flowers on top were wilting and brown. A short shopping list was pinned to the wall. Something about it touched Lilitu's heart. It seemed so cozy, though very cluttered. Dishes sat on the kitchen counter and there were old papers everywhere.

She proceeded up the stairs into the bedroom. The door was unlocked, so she sighed in relief. She didn't want to spend too much time sneaking around. Her book had gotten pretty juicy.

The first thing she saw was a large bed with Awour sprawled out in it. A large axe hung up on the wall. Lilitu had a hard time imagining Awour even lifting it. She tiptoed over to the slumbering Altmer, lightly lifting her hair up. No earrings. If she didn't need to be silent, she would have sighed in relief. She set her hair down and looked at her hands. No ring, either. She looked at both night stands and neither of them had a jewelry box on them.

There was a large chest under the window. It was locked, but Lilitu managed to open it quickly. All she found were men's shirts that were twice as big as Lilitu and reached her mid-thigh. She put them back and shut the chest.

She was about to check the wardrobe when a sparkle caught her eye. On the desk were the earrings and the ring along with a note.

Romancing the Stones, 130 septims

Ring Around the Rosie, 122 septims

Marilyn's Diamonds, 140 septims

Marilyn's shop was circled. Lilitu recognized the names as the jewelers around town. She picked them up, note included and stuffed them in her pocket. She turned to leave when she noticed a small mountain of ripped or crumpled papers by a wicker basket. Lilitu glanced at Awour. Was she a writer or something? She picked up one of the crumpled ones and smoothed it out.

Lilitu was breathless as she read the sweet words of a man pouring his heart out to the woman he loved. Her sinuses burned as she forced herself not to cry. It was so beautiful... what in Oblivion was it doing crumpled on the floor? She looked it over once more, recognizing the name as a Nord's. Wrothken. She looked back at the axe and remembered the giant shirts. Obviously, the two had ended things. The note made her want to believe that Awour was at fault, but she had no way of knowing for sure.

Lilitu walked over to the bed once more, staring down at Awour. Even with the negative feelings she had, she had to admit that she too had beauty...physical, anyway. Her face may have been round, but it made her look more youthful. Her long hair was beautiful in both luster and color, something Lilitu felt a flash of jealousy over. She had big eyes and thin brows, arched perfectly. She wasn't stringy; she was far less top heavy than Kirsty and herself, but had wide hips, the ones men often saw as perfect for gripping tight in the heat of the moment. She read the poem once more and shook her head. To let go of a man who could write like that... if that was what happened.

Awour stirred in her sleep, cuddling up with her pillow. Lilitu took that as a sign that it was time to go. When she was out, she carefully walked down the stairs. She felt her way toward the door and opened it slightly. A guard was passing by, but he didn't notice the door opening a crack. He continued down the street, turning at the corner. Lilitu slipped out and casually walked back to her house.

After pouring ylang-ylang oil into the bath, Lilitu sat in the steamy water, reading the letter repeatedly. Each time, she felt her heart quicken. She wanted to know where he was. She heard of people who can decipher everything about a person based on their handwriting. All Lilitu could tell from the writing alone was that it was likely written by a man. She had also heard of people who can hold something belonging to someone and then connect mentally with the person. If only she had that power.

In her life, she had loved only twice. As she recalled, love making was what gave her the best feeling in the morning after. It had been for too long, she thought reading it over once more.

The poem accompanied her to bed that night and she couldn't help wondering if one day, someone with a heart like Wrothken would as well.