Everything belongs to Bethesda Studios. And the wonderful people of Beyond Skyrim (if you don't know their mod, I highly recommend checking it out. Seriously, I nearly wept when I was able to cross the border.) No profit made, I just own the OC and the plot.
Chapter Two
The answer came a few weeks later. Not that Muriel had expected the letter any time sooner, but she found herself being more impatient than she would ever admit to Brynjolf.
The courier found her on her way to the Thieves Guild and handed her a medium sized leather-bound package. She had to hold back her excitement and withstand the temptation of ripping it open right away. With faster steps than before she made her way to the Cistern. Brynjolf was sitting at the Guildmaster's desk with some parchments in front of him. He looked up when he heard her approaching steps.
A smile beamed over his face when he saw the package in her hands.
"So he answered? What does he say? Did he find some information?"
"No, these are my new boots from Radiant Rayment. They are made out of Vale deer hide and thought I'd wear them with my..."
Brynjolf rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright... got it."
"Calm down, Bryn", Muriel said with a wink. "I haven't opened it yet."
"I'll leave you to it, then. Had to give these jobs to Delvin anyways... Vale deer hide, hm?"
"I really like the pattern", Muriel breathed with a dreamy smile. He left her shaking his head.
She set the package down on the desk and seated herself. It was still strange to sit here and mentally she still referred to it as "Mercer's desk" even though she tried not to mention that to Brynjolf. The betrayal of the last Guildmaster had hit him hard.
With a dagger she carefully cut the rope and unfolded the leather. There were several folded sheets of paper and a heavy book; "Mysterious Akavir" it said.
Laying it aside for now she first read through the several pages long letter. After being done she simply sat at the desk with crossed arms and deep in thought. Enthir's letter hadn't brought the answers she'd hoped it would. There seemed to be little information available and he apologized for not being of more help. The book he had sent was a not very detailed summary of the knowledge about the continent Akavir, its people and their culture. Muriel remembered holding a similar book in her hands once, but she had tossed it aside because back then only the books containing Alduin had interested her.
Furthermore Enthir described the translation of a diary he was unable to sent - or "Urag gro-Shub would wear my skin as a cloak" as he said. The diary mainly confirmed that the Akaviri had indeed been in County Bruma a long time ago – that was probably the reason the family of the Count had started collecting the artifacts in the first place.
Brynjolf found her brooding when he returned.
"You don't look happy, lass. Bad news?"
"No news at all as it appears. There just doesn't seem to be much information." Muriel rubbed her eyes in frustration. The thought of going to Bruma with a real task had really grown on her in the last weeks and she had caught herself daydreaming about the opportunity. Seeing new places, having a goal again - all of that seemed to recede into the distance now.
The second-in-command tried to hide his disappointed look. "We could still go..."
"Sending a member of the Guild outside of our reach just because you heard a rumour?"
"Eh - probably not... a man can still dream, right?"
Three weeks passed and on the 25th of First Seed Muriel left Riften to travel north. In her backpack was the book from the College which she intended to return. Furthermore she had let Delvin assign her to a job in Winterhold to make the journey more purposeful.
The air was filled with the first touch of spring as Muriel passed the stables. In High Rock today would be celebrated as Flower Day and even though she remembered the traditions she had grown up with, she didn't mention it to her fellow thieves. When she had entered the Flaggon this morning a single purple flower had lain on her desk and Delvin as a fellow Breton had winked at her knowingly.
With a smile Muriel touched the flower now tugged behind her ear and directed her steps toward Eastmarch. As usual she prefered to travel by foot even though a horse meant reaching her destination faster. It was hard to react to an arising thread from the back of a horse and Muriel had grown tired of chasing after the panicked animal when the fighting was done.
The journey would be hard but at least it would take her brooding mind off of Bruma. Ever since Brynjolf had mentioned it, she found her thoughts fall back on the topic but she always reasoned herself out of it. All it would prove was whether or not she was able to do it and that was a purely selfish thought.
It took her three days to reach Windhelm where she rested and another two until the first houses of Winterhold came into view. The cold wind of the north was still strong and it blew constantly. By the fourth day Muriel had already regretted the journey. She hated the harsh weather up on the coast and she wasn't a Nord. The natives of Skyrim never seemed to be bothered by the cold but to her every icy blast of wind was one too many.
As she pushed open the door to The Frozen Hearth to check in, she had already decided to head back to Riften as soon as her business was done. Winterhold just wasn't the place for her. The weather was too cold, the people too few and the overall atmosphere depressing. It sure must have been beautiful before the Great Collapse but that was a long time ago and the ruins on the edge of the city stood there like a graveyard of long forgotten glory.
After the innkeeper assigned her to her room, she left again. At least returning the book was something she could accomplish today.
Walking over the bridge to reach the college, she tried not to look anywhere except her feet. The bridge was broken in several spots and she had always wondered if it was held together by magic or sheer force of will. It seemed like a lifetime ago since she had first walked over the pathway high in the winds and it still felt like a miracle that they had let her pass through after her pathetic flame spell. For a Breton her magic was below mediocre and she grudgingly had to accept that she would never reach a level beyond Novice. So she had left the college and had only returned to contact Enthir for the Thieves Guild.
Once accepted to the mages college, one was allowed to return anytime and Muriel enjoyed having access to the library even though she didn't plan of ever returning to the studies of magic. No one knew when it would be useful.
Muriel stayed in Winterhold for two days. With Enthir she spent a pleasant evening at the inn where she fed him all new informations and rumours regarding the Guild while the Bosmer kept buying her drinks.
The rest of her time there she spent watching her assigned target Malur Seloth. Even though he was the Jarl's Stewart he didn't seem to work at all and wasn't willing to change that. She came to the conclusion that she didn't like the Dunmer and was glad to lighten his pockets in an unseen moment.
After fighting her way back through the icy wasteland of Skyrim's coast and the swamps of Eastmarch Muriel was relieved when the first forests of the Rift came into view. Somewhere around Cragslane Cavern two bears had attacked her and even though she was unharmed they had managed to tear her backpack apart. She was forced to secure its content with her belt but it meant she had to carry Dawnbreaker by hand.
Despite the already setting sun Muriel pushed forward. The prospect of spending the night within city walls fastened her steps and so she reached Riften two hours before midnight. It was too late to give her backpack to the smith for repairs and so she dropped it off at Honeyside before going to the Ragged Flagon. She felt tired but it wasn't enough to actually sleep.
The Cistern was abandoned, its residents were all at the tavern by the sound of it. Cheerful laughter was heard her as she entered the Flagon and she was greeted by a warm wave of welcoming shouts.
Dirge and Vipir were apparently in the middle of a drinking contest while most of the rest stood around them watching. Vekel was behind his bar cleaning mugs and shaking his head at the two opponents.
Muriel made her way through the room and found an empty chair next to a frowning Vex.
"Pleasant journey?", the Imperial asked without taking her eyes of the table across from them. Dirge was gulping his mead with such speed that Muriel felt sick just by looking at it. Vex slided a mug of mead to her. "Here, trust me, you'll need this."
Muriel smiled slightly. "The journey was mainly uneventful."
"Did it take your mind off Bruma?" Muriel gave her a surprised look. She hadn't realised that she was this transparent.
Vex finally tore away from the drinking men and examined the Breton sharply.
"Brynjolf told me", she cleared up.
Muriel leaned back and sighed in frustration. "Since you're asking... no, it actually didn't."
The other woman simply nodded but before they could go any deeper on that topic, Brynjolf joined them and insisted they had to drink up because he was buying the next round.
Muriel downed her mead and already knew that this was a mistake. She hadn't eaten since her last break on the road around noon and the alcohol in her empty stomach seemed to work right away. After the second round she already felt light-headed. Next to her Vex and Brynjolf were caught up in a discussion about the importance of Invisibility Potions with Vex arguing that every thief should have a few with them in case of an emergency and Brynjolf claiming that only thieves whose skills weren't high enough took the help of potions. It was hard to follow the two of them and Muriel felt her mind wander off. She knew that his argument was feeble at most as he theoretically could chose Nocturnal's gift of becoming an Agent of Stealth like she had back in the Twilight Sepulcher. She didn't use it frequently, though, but it was reassuring to have a backup plan.
"...I bet our Guildmaster will use Invisibility Potions when going to Bruma!", Vex said heatedly.
That drew her attention back to the argument. "When I'm going? I thought that plan was abandoned."
"Of course you're going", the Imperial answered dryly. She and Brynjolf exchanged a look.
"Most of the Guild thinks you should, lass."
Muriel blinked at them in confusion. Her drunk brain didn't seem to process the situation at the right speed. "What do you mean by 'most of the Guild'? Have you discussed this with everybody?"
"Well.. no, not on purpose. Rune heard us talking the other day and I couldn't stop it from spreading...", Brynjolf answered sheepishly.
Muriel growled lowly. She loved the Guild but they could be really frustrating at times. Especially when the anarchistic side that every thief more or less had came out and sometimes they simply ignored the Guildmaster. Muriel knew that she was to blame on that matter - she rarely insisted enough and never thought about punishing someone for disobedience.
"Look, Muriel.. the Guild's family and we don't like our family members gloomy." Vex's voice was more gentle than it was her usual way. Apparently she was serious about the matter.
"We think it would help you to be yourself again, lass", Brynjolf stepped in.
Muriel looked at them sharply for a long time. The other two thieves watched her in anticipation but remained silent.
"What about the border? Isn't it supposed to be locked down?", she finally asked.
A bright smile flashed across Brynjolf's face. "I don't know for sure but it's a fact that it was closed because of the war. And I know someone who nearly single-handedly ended said war." Muriel rolled her eyes at his exaggeration. He tried to get on her good side again. "I have a feeling that they will let the hero of the Civil War and slayer of Alduin through", he quickly added completely ignoring her expression.
"This Dragonborn business has to be good for something, right?", Vex threw in sarcastically.
The Breton scowled at them for a long time. That she should be able to cross over couldn't be denied. A part of her mind still argued that she should do the reasonable thing and stay here. And yet – the last time she had done something simply because she wanted to had been before she had come to Skyrim. Actually the very decision of crossing the border the last time had been her last truly selfish action. A little rebellious voice awoke in the back of her mind.
Wouldn't it be appropriate to cross the border again this time because you want to? You helped Skyrim enough, do something for yourself. The Guild works fine, you don't have to be here all the time.
She took a deep breath. The mead in her blood made her forget her hesitation. "Fine. I'll go", she agreed still not fully convinced but with growing confidence.
"Great!" Vex gave her a slap on the back. "Once you succeeded I'm next in line for Cyrodiil!"
Muriel couldn't suppress a smile at the enthusiasm of her fellow thief and as she met Brynjolf's eyes she saw his contentment.
The Nord raised his mug. "To Bruma then!"
"To Bruma!"
It took nearly a month of preparations. Muriel gathered as much information as she could find because she wasn't sure how much of it would be available once she crossed the border. It still was awfully little. With the help of Elgrim and his wife Hafjorg she also filled up her stack of potions. To Vex's satisfaction even a large quantity of Invisibility Potions found their way into her repaired and improved backpack. She checked her lockpicks, made sure her well-chosen stock of enchanted jewellery was packed and left Spellbreaker within reach.
She never needed much while being on the road but this time it was even more important not to clutter her backpack. Since she intended to stay away from Riften for a while – who knew how long it would take – she packed a few extra sets of clothes just in case.
Her leather armour was repaired and her sword sharpened and soon she found herself at the end of her preparations. A restlessness had taken hold over her in the last week but it was different from the one she had suffered before. It was busier, more eager.
On the 27th of Rain's Hand the Thieves Guild decided to throw her a farewell party. It was the evening before Jester's Day and since everyone was expecting pickpockets on that day, none of them was stupid enough to work which made it the perfect date.
And so Muriel was once again at the Ragged Flagon. It was a rare sight seeing the tavern this crowded. The thieves enjoyed their day off and even the shopkeepers had joined in. Wine and mead flowed freely and at some point someone even picked up a lute. Muriel hadn't enjoyed herself this much for months. It didn't help with saying goodbye.
They shared stories of difficult burglaries and laughed about the moments where they had nearly been caught. Delvin even climbed on a chair to bring out a toast full off drama and exaggeration and at one point he got so sentimental that Muriel couldn't stop giggling.
"You're acting like I won't come back", Muriel said as she hugged him.
"Don't you come back empty handed, you get me?", he grunted but Muriel saw the proud gleam in his eyes. "And maybe find yourself a good-lookin' fella along the way, eh?"
Muriel laughed out loud. "You know no one's as good-looking as you."
"Ah, don't you play with an ol' thieves' feelings, girl!", he said with a laugh and grabbed his chest.
From across the room Vex huffed. "That's not where your feelings are, Delvin. Try lower."
With a last round of goodbyes Muriel left the Ragged Flaggon behind. She was in the middle of the graveyard when Brynjolf caught up with her.
"Can I walk the lady home?"
"That would be lovely", she laughed and tucked her arm into his.
"When do you leave?", he asked as they made their way through the sleeping city.
"At dawn." Muriel looked at the cloudless sky. It was still somewhere around midnight but the clear air promised a bright day. She looked forward to it – she hated traveling through rain. Once her clothes were soaked it was nearly impossible to get them dry again while being on the road.
They didn't speak for the rest of the walk and when they reached Honeyside, Muriel let go of his arm and tugged him into a hug.
"Thanks, Bryn." For letting me do this, for always having my back, for taking care of the Guild, for just being you. She didn't specify for what but she knew he understood.
"Take care of yourself, lass", he gently said and ruffled her hair affectionately. With a last wink he left, heading for the direction of Haelga's Bunkhouse.
After a few hours of doze Muriel got up long before dawn. She got dressed and ate some leftover beef stew before double-checking her backpack. But everything seemed to be packed and ready and without a reason to wait any longer, she shouldered her backpack and strapped Spellbreaker on top of it. With Dawnbreaker on her belt she felt ready to head out.
Her eyes wandered across her home. It would be a while until she would see it again. Brynjolf had promised to take care of the place – Muriel secretly assumed he would bring several of his conquests to her place and made a mental note to buy a new bed once she returned.
The streets of Riften were still empty and the guards on patrol simply nodded at her as she left through the southern gate. To get to Pale Pass she had to follow the road to Ivarstead and Helgen. It would take a while but the chill morning air and humming feeling of adventure made her steps lighter. Muriel passed Snow-Shod Farm and with Lake Honrich to her right she made good progress and reached the point were the road passed Largashbur at dawn.
From here on the road led her through a forested area and she knew from experience that it was home of many bears. It was a long time ago since the feral predators had been a thread to her but they could still be a challenge if they charged out of hiding.
Muriel walked further along the cobbled road with all her senses focussed on the forest around her. One time she thought she heard something and crouched. Her eyes searched her surroundings and it didn't take long until she spotted the huge Cave Bear in the distance. Carefully not to arouse his attention she proceeded to sneak but while she was concentrated on the bear, a pack of wolves charged at her.
With a curse on her lips she drew the sword and drove it into the first wolf's neck just as he lowered himself to jump. The body collapse in an instant and Muriel quickly pulled the blade out of the bloody mess to ready herself for the next attack.
It only took a few seconds until all three wolves laid dead at her feet. She wiped her blade clean on one of their furs and sheathed the sword. The packs were an annoyance one could not avoid while traveling Skyrim. They were fast and often hid in the bushes along the way to hunt down unwary travelers.
At least the short fight had the effect of waking her up completely and with a last look at the bear who strolled further away into the forest, she continued her way.
At noon she reached the road sign guiding her to Helgen. Muriel saw Ivarstead in the distance but her path led her to the left and closer to the mountain chain where it would climb first up and then over. At an apparently abandonend shack the young woman decided that it was time for a rest. She knew that resting once she was in the mountains would be difficult. She wanted to pass the harsh climate as fast as possible and only rest when she was on the other side.
On her map it seemed like the road would decline again until it reached Helgen before winding up over the Jerall Mountains and towards Cyrodiil. With the path itself she was unfamiliar for she had always tried to avoid Helgen; the memories where still haunting her but she had heard rumours of bandits inhabiting the ruins now. If she made it past the first mountainous part of her journey until dusk she could spend the night on the other side where she wouldn't have to sleep on snow.
She took some bread out of her backpack and chewed on it without appetite as she sat on the porch of the shack letting the sun warm her face. It was a good feeling to travel to an unknown place again; she didn't remember the last time where she wasn't sure of her destination.
Out of habit she searched the shack for something useful but only found a few coins that wandered into her pocket. She didn't feel guilty about it. Whoever lived here seemed to be gone for quite a while according to the dust collecting on the bed.
Muriel stayed for about an hour before she continued her path. The sun stood high as she walked and she was thankful for it. Walking through the mountains by night was dangerously foolish. Many travellers had fallen to their deaths because of incautious steps on icy stones.
Her will and stamina were soon tested by the steep serpentines leading up the mountainside. To the burning of her muscles came the burning of her lungs as the air grew colder and thinner the higher she got.
It took three hours until the path became less steeply. Despite the deep snow Muriel had to rest before she felt able to continue the hopefully easier path downhill.
The sun already began to set when she finally saw the ground again. Helgen's gate came in sight and the young woman saw the movement of torches. It would be much more difficult to pass the destroyed town in broad daylight and so Muriel decided to rest for a few hours until the night had set in before sneaking past the bandits. Once she was out of sight she would make camp.
She settled in inside a fallen tree trunk that would shelter her from the elements as well as from unwanted views. Her dark armor helped with that as well.
Closing her eyes she listened to the forest around her. She had always liked sleeping in the wilderness. The wind in the trees, the soft noises of the animals surrounding her and the pale light of the stars – it all calmed her mind. She felt safe under the night sky even if she rarely travelled with company and therefore with noone who could keep watch while she slept.
She napped for about two hours until the sun had completely set. Sneaking through the sparse undergrowth Muriel drew closer to Helgen.
She remembered the day she last saw it. It had burned itself into her mind like Alduin burning the town to ruins. The fight she had stumbled into high up in the mountains, the heavy blow to the head, waking up aboard a cart that carried her to the executioner's axe... and Alduin's roar, she certainly would never forget that. It followed her to her dreams even if he was long gone.
Two bandits stood guard on the town's gate but they were deep in conversation and only half-heartedly paid attention to the road. Their bad work habits were a blessing. It would have been rather difficult to sneak around the turn the path took if someone had watched the night like a hawk.
The vegetation got even more sparse as Muriel scurried past and she didn't dare to take a breath until the gate disappeared behind a stone wall. She didn't avoid the bandits out of fear. Her battle skills were well enough to handle them but she had no reason to seek this fight if there was another way.
To be completely out of reach she walked for another ten minutes before finally setting up her camp. She did not dare to start a fire and so her dinner was again cold. Thankfully Vekel had supplied her well enough and she was in no need to hunt or search for something edible before finally crawling into her bedroll.
A/N: Reaching Bruma in the next chapter I think... care to tell me your thoughts?