Another chapter. Yipee! The plot is thickening...
Chapter 11:
Mandila stood back to admire her handiwork. The sun was hot against her back, and her hands were covered in dirt, but she hardly noticed, for aggravation had a way of making her oblivious to the world's details. She could only think of the waterfront's grievances as she rolled a piece of charcoal between her fingers, and a slow, lazy smile spread across her face. Her actions were childish, and she knew it, for what kind of petty revenge was drawing on a poster? But still, it was retaliation that was within her grasp, and she had to admit that this was rather amusing. The locals seemed to agree as they came across one defaced Grey Fox after the other. This particular poster sported a thick mustache and eyebrows.
It was because of him.
Mandila frowned and tossed the charcoal into the harbor. Last night had been comforting in a strange way, for she'd been alone with Lex in a personal setting that had previously eluded her, and she'd finally spoken her mind to the captain. He might not heed her words, but at least he understood why she thought that his mission had merit, and if he had ignored her emotions before, there was now no denying that she had an interest in his person. The longer she considered her words, the more she realized that she had given herself, thoughts, and even her allegiances away, but would Lex read into the depth of her words? He was intelligent, yet he was so resistant to personal ties. Damn it, but she wanted to change that, and curses on everything around her for that thought.
After such a meaningful night, and one in which she'd even dared to touch him, she felt as if the barriers between them had slipped by the smallest degree. Lex would have been her knight in shining armor if he'd been around when her brother died, and that was what he had focused on, but Mandila had responded with a notion of much greater importance. She had shown him that he could still be that knight if he wanted to be, but then again, he wasn't about to change, and the morning had hammered that reality into her head with all the grace and mercy of an ogre.
Mandila sighed as she reached out a finger and smudged the thick eyebrows before her into a unibrow. Very childish indeed, but she had found no other outlet through which to express her anger with a certain person, for she'd awoken to find a poster announcing monthly taxes on the waterfront. The news had made everyone groan, and a few of the poorer ones panic. One in particular had retaken to the waters, diving for pearls in order to begin saving the required money, and this after he'd nearly lost his leg to a slaughterfish. He shouldn't need to go back in the water, and Mandila was further frustrated because she could do nothing about this. She was sure that Armand was plotting something, but he had yet to inform her as to the job's nature.
"I want this person found," a voice growled, and Mandila indulged in a giggle. Lex had finally noticed the artfully altered posters, and as he rounded the lighthouse while pointing a guard in another direction, he spotted her with those crystal blue pools of his. Shadows hide her, but Mandila couldn't stay angry at him, for when they began talking, it was like the world disappeared. There were no guilds or guards, only two people interacting, and that made her wish that the illusion wasn't as farfecthed as it was. If she could only stay angry at the man, maybe she'd be able to escape her fascination, but that path didn't seem likely, and she wouldn't want to be angry with him anyway.
"Good morning, sir," Mandila beamed, hiding her hands behind her back.
"Morning, citizen."
"You..."
"Not now, Mandila," Lex protested, holding a hand up to stop her from speaking. "I'm not in the mood. Someone has..." His eyes shifted to the poster beside them. "Not another one," he instantly growled.
"I think that it adds something to the picture," Mandila offered in her best, contemplative tone.
"Yes, I'm sure that everyone finds it amusing," Lex nearly hissed. "Defacing official posters and property is always enjoyable." Mandila laughed, which seemed to annoy him greatly, but she couldn't help it.
"Sir, it was probably just some kid having a bit of fun," she offered. "You know, they once put Arena ads around here, and someone drew breasts on all of the knights. It's nothing personal—just a joke. Not everyone is as serious as you, and I happen to think that humor is as important as law enforcement." Lex ripped the poster off of the wall, and although Mandila hated to admit it, she found his frustration displeasing. So many people gave him a hard time about the Grey Fox, and here she was, worsening his image. But he deserved it! Then why did she feel so guilty?
"The person who did this better pray to the Nine that I don't find them," Lex commented.
"I'm sure that the villain isn't stupid enough to hang around, sir," Mandila stated. To her annoyance, a light breeze blew hair across her face, and she unthinkingly reached to replace the brown locks behind her ear. In the process, her fingers trailed across her right cheek, and Lex's eyes were oddly fixed on the movement. She could feel the heat of his gaze, but he didn't look angry. He was deadly calm as he took a few steps closer to her, and she, unaware of what absorbed him, stood in ignorance.
"Allow me to help you with that," he suggested, and Mandila stood speechless as his fingers touched her skin, sweeping the loose strands of hair away from her face. His touch was light, and the fingers calloused as she had expected. Perhaps the world had gone insane, but she was certain that he was indeed tucking hair behind her pointed ears, and she could feel her body temperature rising in response. What was he doing and why? On second thought, she didn't care about the why. 'Why' was so bothersome. The fact was that he was gently touching her made her melt, and gods, but his hand was even retracing its path across her cheek, and all she could do was gape at his emotionless face, his eyes riveted on her cheek as his thumb brushed across it.
Keep touching. Touch is good.
Mandila knew that color was rising in her cheeks, and as his eyes shifted to hers, she knew that he had noticed her body's reaction. She was blushing, stunned, and felt like she'd entered a dimension where the gods loved her. Her happiness was, however, crushed as he held his thumb up for her to view, for she found herself staring at a black, sooty patch of flesh. That looked like charcoal. Dear gods, it was charcoal, and now she was nervous for an entirely different reason.
"Care to explain this, citizen?" Lex emotionlessly questioned. Mandila couldn't bring herself to look beyond the thumb to his eyes, and so she swallowed and offered him an awkward smile.
"I..." Lex suddenly seized her hands and lifted them by the wrists, exposing her blackened palms, and making her think of running for the harbor water. "Um..."
"Rather incriminating hands, aren't they?" Lex dryly ground out, leaving Mandila speechless. "What? You aren't going to try and defend yourself? I find that hard to believe."
"I'm trying to think up a convincing lie."
"At least your honest," Lex muttered. "If I release your hands, I don't suggest that you run. You've nowhere to go that I can't find you." He dropped her wrists, and Mandila observed that he did not seem as angry as before—only a little annoyed and one hundred percent determined. What that determination was aimed at, she didn't want to know.
"I didn't mean any harm," Mandila stated. Liar.
"It doesn't matter," Lex countered. "You should have thought before you acted, as difficult as that is for you," and she imagined that he seemed a bit sullen for having just caught her red-handed. "I expected somewhat different behavior from you after everything that you've said." Now Mandila knew that she felt guilty, and to make matters worse, she had acted rashly in the heat of the moment yet again.
"It was revenge," she blurted, and Lex raised his brows.
"Revenge for what, elf?" Elf? He was more annoyed than he looked.
"Did you know that a disabled man who is in his sixties is going to be forced back into pearl diving because of your taxes?" Lex crossed his arms over his chest and eyed Mandila with a regard that was both stubbornly fixed but somehow appreciative.
"You have a very large heart, Mandila, but that doesn't warrant defacing property. You told me your thoughts, and now there is nothing left for us to discuss on this topic. You're paying for the posters."
"You don't care about the man?" Mandila calmly asked, perfectly serious.
"His problems are unfortunate," Lex allowed. "It sounds like a hard existence, but his private life is of no concern to the law. There are charity organizations that might help him." Now Mandila also crossed her arms, making the two opponents look like different versions of the same stubborn soul as they faced one another. She was actually quite surprised that Lex hadn't already clapped her in chains.
"Have you thought about what I said at all?" she challenged.
"I have, and your fine is still ten gold—one coin for each waterfront poster."
"Ten gold?" Mandila repeated, brow furrowed. "The government can pick up the cost, I'm sure." Lex opened his mouth, shut it, and then finally sighed.
"The watch didn't pay for them." What? Mandila had to think a moment before she realized that Lex had probably personally paid for every single poster in the city. But that meant that he spent hundreds of gold on these, for they were constantly destroyed by hands or the weather, and they were literally everywhere. The man was dedicated, and whereas others would see a fanatic, Mandila saw a man that was willing to spend his gold on what he thought was right. Or was he just bitter at lawbreakers? Sometimes it was hard to tell.
"I didn't realize," she told him, voice reserved, which seemed to grab his attention. She reached for her belt and jingled the small purse that dangled there. There was only one coin inside, which was hardly enough to satisfy the captain. "I don't have money," she confessed, lips pursed.
"And I suppose that you'll miraculously have it by tomorrow morning," Lex mused. "Mandila, what exactly do you do for a living?" Mandila faltered, realizing that she had no believable cover story, for Lex would easily check to see if she was telling the truth. There weren't many places for someone from the waterfront to work, and he knew every single employer that would hire someone like her since he patrolled here.
"I do odd jobs," Mandila lied, knowing that he didn't believe her as his eyes narrowed.
"You better not be a prostitute, citizen. The fine for that is much higher." His conclusion was a logical one, for she wandered the city at night, and the only women out and about unescorted at such late hours were often selling their bodies. He would know, for he'd put quite a few of the poor away for performing sexual duties, but his reasoning still spiked Mandila's emotions.
"I'm not a prostitute," she hissed, angry at herself for being so roused by his words. How could he think that she was a prostitute? Did she look that cheap and desperate? She glanced at her old and worn clothing, and thought that maybe she did look a little ragged, and she had jumped into the harbor despite having men stare at her inappropriately clothed body. Did other people think that...?
"Mandila," Lex spoke, and more softly than before.
"No!" she sharply responded. "I'm not a prostitute. That was my mother, sir, and I'll never be her. Of course, you'd know nothing about how hard life can be, would you? The idea of selling yourself has never been forced to cross your mind." She had said too much, but she didn't care as she turned to storm off. She wanted to leave before the tears came, for her childhood had not been easy with a working mother and absent father, and given that her mother had tried to ply her into the same disgusting trade as herself made Mandila's stomach churn. No one had dared suggest that she was or should be a prostitute since she'd broken the arm on one of her mother's more aggressive clients. She despised what her mother had been, and to be called the same thing...
"Citizen, wait," Lex was saying. "I was concerned for your welfare. The accident that you had..."
"I'll get you the money, sir," Mandila dryly replied. "And the accident had nothing to do with—I'll see you later, captain." She heard him walking toward her back as she crossed the stone walkway that cut down the harbor's center, but she refused to acknowledge him. He had been mistaken, and he knew it, but that didn't make Mandila feel better. She needed to find a place to relax before her bubbly nature could overcome the dark memories and insults that she had once frequently endured. Even on the waterfront, prostitutes were often ridiculed, and their children caught the same derision.
"She's not interested in talking, sir," someone said, intervening on her behalf. She half-turned to see that Armand had intercepted the captain and was keeping him from following her. The older thief was stern and even looked a bit disgusted as he addressed the captain, who looked equally ready to strike. His fingers were itching to arrest Armand right on the spot. He was just looking for a reason to do so.
"My affairs are none of your concern, good citizen," Lex told the other man.
"You've insulted her," Armand countered. "The decent thing to do would be to leave Mandila alone. She's not interested in you." Mandila wondered why Armand sounded so threatening when he spoke of her not liking Lex, and she wasn't entirely sure if the words were meant for her or the captain. Perhaps her superior had decided that her game with the guard had advanced too far, and he was now trying to reestablish the lines that separated them. Mandila didn't know as she watched the scene unfold.
"Mandila can speak for herself," Lex said. Armand was about to reply, but Mandila cut in, knowing how ugly the two could get with one another.
"I'm going home, captain," she stated. "And you have your duties." He stared at her, and she didn't even bother to force a smile as she continued on her way. She didn't know if her words had worked, but she couldn't hear him following her, and that was enough for the time being. The captain apparently felt chastised enough not to hunt her down for the payment.
"Mandila!" Armand called. She stood outside of her house and expectantly watched the man jogging toward her. He might look cross, but she knew that she wasn't the cause of his frustration, and so she didn't try to escape him as he approached. "We need to talk for a moment. This way." He motioned her toward his house, and Mandila dutifully followed, surprised when he put a comforting hand on her back and guided her through the door.
"Thanks for your help," she said.
"You're welcome. I know how your mother's past bothers you. Here, take a seat. This won't take long." The Bosmer did as told but was careful not to touch anything with her sooty hands. With a smile, she lifted them to show Armand, who responded with a chuckle.
"He didn't like my artwork," Mandila joked.
"It was funny," Armand agreed. "But don't you think that you've gotten too familiar with the captain?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Mandila lied.
"He called you by your first name." From someone else, a name wasn't much, but from Lex, perhaps it did say something. "But I didn't find you to talk about that. I have a job that I'd like you to handle. It's a sensitive one, but I think that you're good enough for it."
"Don't keep me in suspense," Mandila eagerly replied, sitting on the edge of her seat. This was exactly what she needed to distract her and forget about this event.
"You're going to steal back the waterfront tax records plus the taxes." He watched her reaction carefully, and it was as he feared; she didn't smile or jump up to thank him, but instead visibly stiffened. There was a noticeable lapse in the conversation as Mandila tried to collect herself and keep her emotions hidden from Armand, but he could read her well.
"It's an honor, Armand," she suddenly smiled, but inside, she was dreading this job. Lex needed to be taught a lesson, but she wished that she hadn't been the one chosen to do it. Oh, she could tell by the stern expression on Armand's face that this was very deliberate, and she understood why, but she wanted to tell the man off for this. Of course, doing so would brand her a traitor. Gods, she was going after Lex on a job, and if she was caught, there would be no forgiveness, no second chances for a night out, no more conversations, and a return to being a mere 'citizen'.
"I'll have it done in several days," Mandila assured. "I'm glad that you trust me to do this."
"Hmmm." Armand nodded toward the door, and Mandila wondered if the older thief didn't perhaps hope that she was caught. Then the captain would be out of her life forever, or rather, they'd relate in a different way, for she'd likely be in prison. The thought made her shift uncomfortably as she left Armand with a distant goodbye. He was doing this on purpose, and she had to follow through, which meant risking the progress that she'd made. There was no choice, and that meant that she had to start planning immediately, because she was going to attempt something that she'd never even considered doing before: she was breaking into a guard tower.
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He shouldn't have allowed her to walk away. That was what Lex was thinking as he entered the guard tower. Under normal circumstances, he would never have let someone who had defaced property to depart without payment, and all because he had offended her. He had honestly considered that she was a prostitute as he had talked to her, but obviously he had been incorrect in his stupid accusation. Mandila wasn't a prostitute, and even when the idea had momentarily seemed plausible, he had felt more concerned than angry. He imagined her being brutalized by some customer, and then wandering the streets alone until he found and helped her home. Prostitutes disgusted him, and he happily transferred them from the streets to prison cells, but the idea of Mandila being a prostitute troubled him. It didn't give him the urge to punish, but to help.
He was a guard. Wasn't it natural for him to want to protect people? But he couldn't remember the last time that aiding someone had been more important to him than punishing someone. When he had been younger and stopped a criminal, the look of gratitude from a victim had always been reward enough. Punishment came second as a motivation, but that had been long ago—back when he had frequently been thanked and appreciated, but no longer. Now he was scorned, and since being stationed on the waterfront, he felt as if he walked into enemy territory every single day. Mandila was right: the Grey Fox owned the waterfront, and so Lex was always the man to be despised, both by the common people for targeting their hero, and by his comrades for chasing what they saw as a shadow.
You could be the one to help us.
Lex ran a hand over his short brown hair as he distractedly greeted the off-duty guards within the tower. He had forgotten how wonderful it felt to be praised for his job—to be appreciated for never quiting, and to be seen as a man with potential. But she isn't supporting you. No, she was with the waterfront, but she thought that he could replace the Grey Fox because he was better than the thief. That's what he had heard hidden within her message the other night, and that gleam of promise warmed him, for it had been so long since someone had softly and kindly approached him with words of advice. And what had he done to her in return but insulted her?
He wondered when he had become so hardened as he climbed to the second floor of the tower, and then to the third where his private quarters were. He hadn't always been so cynical, but he was tired of always being bested by the scum of society. For every criminal that he locked away, two more appeared, and sometimes he was even forced to release the guilty because someone with higher authority pardoned them. He always suspected a bribe in such circumstances, and even as a captain, he sometimes felt powerless to right the wrongs around him. Perhaps no one else did, but he took his job and duty seriously, and somewhere along the line, he'd stopped hearing the pleas of a freshly incarcerated person and only saw one more speck of dirt off the streets.
Mandila—his frustrating elf—was making him see the humanity of his victims, and damn her for that. When she had mentioned the old man that now needed to return to the waters, he had almost felt guilty, but not quite. Guilt had been replaced by a morose overtone that accepted the unfairness of life and the pains that sometimes resulted from doing his job correctly. The man wouldn't have problems if he hadn't grown accustomed to illegally avoiding taxes. But Mandila had looked so hurt and frustrated, like she couldn't understand how the law was more important than a person's health. Sometimes she seemed so naïve, for she clearly didn't understand that circumventing the law was not the solution to hardship. That only complicated and slighted society's order, but at other times, the light in the elf's eyes was almost extinguished, and in its place, he saw a wealth of dark experience.
She didn't seem like someone who should know pain, not when she had such a dazzling and ready smile. She bounced about the harbor and brightened moods. He'd noticed that her positive energy could do that, and yet she reached out to and even liked him when he stood against the disorder that was her. Akatosh help him, but he had gained the attention of someone who was the very embodiment of disorder. The thought actually made Lex smile in his own weary way as he sat on his bed, Mandila's face floating before his mind. She was still searching for something within him, or perhaps from him—he wasn't entirely sure. All he knew was that she had somehow made him regret his words today, and that was very rare, for he wasn't a man to practice regret.
Damn Armand for getting in the way of his apology. If the older thief hadn't interfered, Lex would have followed Mandila and...his brow knitted together as he tried to discern exactly what he had been thinking only to realize that he hadn't been. Gods, but he had simply been acting, and not in an instinctual way, such as when he was on the hunt. This had been different, illogical, and the result of seeing her eyes well with unshed tears.
"Damn it!" Lex spat, and he restlessly stood and went to his desk. Work would take his mind off of this ridiculous subject. It wasn't like he wouldn't see his elf tomorrow, and then he could calmly give her the official apology that she deserved. Plus, he had to get that money. Ten gold was nothing, but it was the principle that mattered.
He opened the top drawer of his desk to remove an ink blot when his vision snagged on a silver gleam from among his neatly organized papers. He slowly reached out and lifted the object, which revealed itself to be a silver chain with an onyx pendant, his mother's initials carved into the back of the stone. His thumb ran over the engraved letters, and for a moment he remembered looking at his mother's dead body, neatly arranged on the bed as it had been. She had willed this pendant to him as a family heirloom, and one that he was to give his wife someday since his mother would never be able to personally meet the woman. That had been her wish, for she had known that she was dying.
I'm too tired for this. Lex set the pendant down on his desk and moved toward his bed. The paperwork could wait, and his superiors weren't in a hurry anyway. They didn't take his efforts to gain moles on the waterfront seriously, and even though he'd have preferred Mandila, he already had someone that would make due. He had plans for that mole—big plans that were fed by the woman's greed. Again, that could wait until tomorrow, but Lex never slept easily when he was on the chase, and so he laid awake for some time, his only thoughts those of throwing the Grey Fox into jail.
