Stephen
*Hjalmar had come to the docks in search of breakfast. He'd been enjoying Solitude, but everything was far too expensive. His small pouch of Septims was getting with every passing day, and he still hadn't found any work. He was worried he might have to give up the whole endeavor and return to Markarth, begging his grandfather Harold for forgiveness.*

*While wandering to find a cheap meal, he felt something on his back. Initially, thinking it was one of the items in there brushing against his side while walking, but then something far heavier than a small item shoved into his back, and he turned to see... A woman! Her hand was in his pack.*

*A look of shock crossed his face for a split moment, followed by a smirk. She was just a pickpocket in need of money like him. He could feel sympathy for that, but he had nothing worth stealing besides his armor and sword. He reached one of his large arms back and grabbed hers, pulling her from his backpack but not letting her go after.*

"You lost, like me? I'm afraid whatever you're looking for, you won't find in my pack. I'm naught but a poor traveler."

*He'd wait to hear her response. The two were causing a scene in the crowded market now, which Hjalmar himself didn't like. But he wanted to hear what the pickpocket had to say for herself. Now that he took her in, she seemed too well-dressed to be a common pickpocket as she worked somewhere decent. Was she one of those who robbed just for the thrill of it, he thought.*
Elise
Myfanwy's cheeks burned bright red from embarrassment, her eyes wide. 

"Apologies, ser," She said, flusteredly. She gave a little tug, fruitlessly trying to pull away from his firm grasp. "Well— you see, ser— I just..." Internally, she cursed herself, her and her damned arrogance. She couldn't meet his gaze as she squirmed, feeling all too much like a bug under a magnifying lens. A few people had began to look at them, serving only to make her feel worse about all this.

"In my defense," She started, a little quieter, for his ears only, "Most adventurers are better off. I'm— I really am sorry, ser." Her voice sounded all squeaky, feeling utterly thrown off balance— *Why was he just standing there, smirking at her?* She knew she wasn't being terribly convincing. She wasn't that sorry about stealing, anyways. If Akatosh struck her down right now, she'd be grateful for the easy out, rather than go through this mortifying ordeal.
Stephen
*His grip was firm but surprisingly soft compared to his size. Like he was trying not to hurt her by squeezing too much, still, he didn't let her get away yet, and he stared down at her as her face flushed. He felt bad now for embarrassing her. But the usual punishment for thieving was worse: having your hands cut off. Some embarrassment seemed recompense enough for trying to rob him.*

*At the mention of adventurers being wealthy, he let out a hearty laugh for several seconds before looking back down at her and letting her go. If she didn't immediately run away, he would say.*

"That's just the successful adventurers, which I am not. I've failed to find a quest for myself in the capital of all Skyrim."

*He reached into his pack and took out a sack that clinked with a metallic sound when he pulled it out. Untying the string that kept it closed, he dropped several Septims into his other hand and offered it to her.*

"I'll let you have it if you can lead me somewhere to find a warm but cheap meal and some more if you know where a mercenary like myself can find some work. I'm not from this city, if you can't tell, so I'd appreciate some help from a local. This place is bigger than anything I'm used to."

*By offering her coin, he was dissuading any of the crowd from thinking her a thief and having her arrested. And he did need the help getting around. If he knew anything about pickpocket, they usually knew their way around a city better than anyone. That's how it was back in his home of Markath.*
Susan
SORRY I'M FIGHTING TUPPER
Elise
She frowned, hesitantly taking the coin. Myfanwy looked at the septims in her palm, chewing at her lip as he spoke.

"I... I can't accept this," She said, once he finished, looking back up at him. Guilt hit her in an unexpected wave, weighing in her stomach and tightening her throat. "If... I wouldn't have tried to steal from you if I knew you were... Unsuccessful." She flushed again, when she realized she'd misspoke. "That's not to say that— I mean, I don't like taking from people who already have so little."

She tried to hand him back the few septims. "I know a place, a little further away from the docks, enough that it doesn't reek as much of fish. I need to go make a delivery—" Myfanwy lifted the basket of groceries on her other arm— "But they can give you a good bowl of venison stew for a few coins, and probably some work as a hunter, if that suits you. It's called Craddock's Shot— just tell them Myfanwy sent you." 

It was the least she could do— he certainly was an intimidating man, very capable of turning her in or taking justice into his own hands. If he needed food and work, just like she did, then she'd at least point him in the direction of her cousins' fletching place.