A/n: Warning, swearing

As I stirred, I noticed a city guard, a female, push open the door. I yawned, and pushed my dirty brown looks from my face. "Oh, Hello."  

She sat down in the chair across from me, and spoke in a raspy voice. "'I have more questions for you to answer, boy."

"Yes, of course you have more questions."I retorted.  "Otherwise, I would be free, no?"

She ignored this statement, and continued, "And if you would answer straight, without funny business, it would be much appreciated."

I laughed, throwing my head back, and causing my earrings to jingle. "Like asking me to give you straight answers will help you get anywhere."

She glared at me, and opened her mouth to speak but I interrupted her.

"Ah, ah, ah." I purred. "Don't you protest, now. Do you expect me to squander this time? It's not every day I get kidnapped and interragated. Anywho, what did you want?"

She glared at me a little longer before saying, "We have reason to believe you were involved in a murder case."

I gasped mockingly. "What, me? I'm shocked. Wounded even. I'm just a poor helpless innocent street urchin." I fluttered my eyelashes.

She didn't look away as she said, "Give the coinpurse back."

I hid my hands behind my back and looked up at the ceiling innocently. "What coinpurse? I don't have a-"

She interrupted me mid-sentence by grabbing my wrist and pulling it towards her, knocking the coinpurse I'd filched out of my fingers and onto the table.

I flinched and scrambled for words to defend myself. "Oh, uh, you mean this one? I, um, found it. On the floor. Yeah."

"Listen, you street bitch. I don't care if you're a thief. I need answers about the night of Morndas, three nights ago, and I need them now, or I will cut out your tongue and feed it to my hounds."

"Oh nooooooo." I mocked. "Listen, sweetheart, if you want to scare me, you'll have to try harder than that. I get worse threats from taking a step down the street."

"Don't call me sweetheart." She rasped. "My name is-"

"Listen, Goldilocks," I gestured to her clean blond hair, "I don't care if your bloody name is Uriel Septim."

"Don't call me Goldilocks." She growled. 

"I'll call you what I please, sweet cheeks. You're the one hanging off my every word."

"If you don't answer my goddamn questions, street bitch,  I'll frame you for the murder, and you'll be put to death." She snapped.

I laughed at her again. "If you plan to throw someone under the bus, goldy, you chose one hell of a good time."

"What are you even talking about."

"Well, see, it goes like this. The longer an urchin is infamous, the higher in the society he is. For example, I've been a 'street bitch' all my life, and have only been caught once. Right now. I'm pretty high in the food chain. I have lots of friends, in lots of places, and every. Last. One." I punctuated the words by slamming a fist on the table. "Would be willing to give their life, limbs, and fortune in my service. "

"Why should I care? You're just a bunch of orphans too broke to afford an orphanage."

"You should care, "I growled, moving closer towards her face, "because if I wished it, you'd be neck-deep in controversy and death threats from those who hide in the shadows around streetlights. So, I ask you, do you really want to take that chance, and threaten me again?"