Chapter 2

Tirdas, the 5th of Sun's Height, Year 202 of the 4th Era

Senna led her out to a rooftop garden. The view was spectacular. She knew Markarth was a mountain city and had expected a mountaintop view. Instead she discovered that Markarth lay in a narrow valley surrounded by cliffs. From this rooftop she could see the whole city laid out before her. Four different waterfalls cascaded down from the mountains. The falls fed into two rivers split by a central promontory island of rock. Buildings were carved into the solid rock along the central island and both cliff faces. The entire city was practically a fortress. The view was so spectacular because the temple of Dibella occupied one of two peaks on the central island. If she hadn't already known the temple was rich and powerful from the artwork displayed, just the location would have said as much.

The view didn't end with the city. The garden wasn't quite as amazing as the view, but it was still impressive. A low stone wall covered in honeysuckle vines surrounded the rooftop. The honeysuckle was in full bloom and the sweet scent of the yellow flowers and white flowers filled the air. The rooftop was covered in a grassy lawn split up by many waist-high hedges. If the hedges were taller, it would have been a maze. Since they were low enough to see over, they merely served to divide the lawn into small partially secluded areas. Daenerys noticed that each of the semi-private areas had at least one low chaise lounge and a statue of Dibella. It seemed clear to Daenerys that this garden had been built to host orgies. This place didn't match what she had previously observed about Nord customs. Nords had a relaxed attitude toward sex before marriage, but when they did couple, they did it in private, or so she had thought. However, the low hedges only gave the illusion of privacy. Anyone standing could easily see over the hedges. For that matter some of the homes carved into the cliff walls could see into this garden. While the distance would be too much for them to make out faces clearly, people could easily watch.

The Dibelian garden was surprising, but her attention was drawn to a woman standing at the center of the garden. She was clearly a Redguard, dark of skin and darker of hair, but Daenerys was more interested in the braiding. Her hair was divided into many small braids, and then those braids were gathered up like a ponytail to fall down around her shoulders. She had also worked silver beads into the braids which really stood out against her dark hair and skin. While Daenerys had other more important things to worry about, she couldn't help but wonder who did the priestess's hair. She was wearing a blue dress trimmed in silver with a plunging neckline that showed a lot of cleavage as well as a golden amulet of Dibella. Oddly, she wore a riding crop attached on a belt the way a warrior would wear a sword.

"Is that the high priestess?" asked Daenerys. While she was an impressive woman, Daenerys was a bit surprised that a Redguard would be the high priestess of a temple in Skyrim. She also seemed too young. She looked to be in her thirties at most.

"No," replied Senna softly. "That's Anwen, Mistress of Discipline."

Mistress of Discipline? Now that was an odd title. Was she responsible for overseeing all the acolytes? Or was she responsible for punishing transgressions within the Temple of Dibella? The riding crop reminded her unpleasantly of the masters of Slaver's Bay.

"The mother is seated," added Senna quietly.

As they drew closer to the center, Daenerys spotted the mother. She looked more grandmotherly than matronly. She was a Nord woman with blonde hair turning to silver. She reclined back upon one of the low chaise lounges, one arm along the back, her legs resting on the cushions one crossed over the other. Her dress was of the same shade of blue as the other priestess, but hers was trimmed in gold. The neckline on her dress was higher, and she wore her amulet on top of her dress. Despite being sprawled upon her side, there was nothing lazy about her appearance. As Daenerys studied her, the priestess studied her back in return.

Senna bowed deeply to the two women. "As you asked, I have brought Lady Targaryen to you."

"Thank you, Senna," replied Anwen, the Mistress of Discipline. She had a firm voice and spoke like one who was used to being obeyed. "Please, take your place."

"Yes, Mistress." Senna bowed again and moved to take up position at the foot of the chaise lounge. She turned so she stood beside the the Redguard and faced Daenerys.

For a moment there was silence as they regarded each other. Daenerys wondered if the selection of priestess was intentional. She was reminded of the Faith of the Seven in Westeros. The female aspects were Maiden, Mother, and Crone. That corresponded quite well with the three women who faced her. Senna as the Maiden, Anwen the stern Mother, and the reclining high priestess as the Crone. Coincidence? Or symbolism? She was also aware that the two guards that had escorted her hadn't gone away. She had deliberately avoided looking back at them, but she knew that two armed and armored men stood behind her back.

Anwen broke the silence. "Now, Lady Targaryen. Explain why you desecrated our temple."

"I wish I knew." She met Anwen's gaze. The woman was strong and forceful, but after facing down dragons and Daedric Princes, no mere priestess was that intimidating. "I don't remember much from last night."

"Told 'ja," said Senna with a giggle. "I think we've all been there a time or four."

"Speak for yourself," said Anwen. "Well then, Lady Targaryen, what do you remember?"

"I recall almost nothing, and what little I do recall is drunken nonsense. I distinctly remember talking monkeys wearing clothes." And the pig. Something about the pig had seemed hysterically funny at the time.

The Mistress of Discipline frowned. "What about your lover? Who was he? Where did he escape to?"

"I don't know. I already said that I don't remember." Thinking about him was embarrassing. She did not just jump into bed with any man, but this time she had. She sighed. "I can't see a face. I just have an impression of his presence. He was strong, powerful…" Dangerous. She remembered the feel of his mouth on her body. "… clean-shaven. But I cannot see his face…" She shook her head. She hadn't been raped. She had been willing. She distinctly remembered being on top and setting the pace somewhere in there. Despite feeling ashamed at herself, she was glad they hadn't caught him.

"Is it a habit of yours to sleep with men you don't know?" demanded Anwen.

"Is it a habit of yours?" countered Daenerys. She was ashamed enough already. She didn't need hypocritical judgments from a priestess of Dibella. She waved at the garden. "It's pretty obvious what takes place in this garden."

"Watch your tongue," snapped back the Redguard woman as her hand drifted to her riding crop. "You are here to answer for your crimes."

Daenerys considered threatening the woman back. She had tried being civil, but she was getting tired of being blamed for something she didn't remember. Nord customs called for making amends for accidents and crimes while drunk, but there was a tolerant and amused attitude toward the crimes themselves. Perhaps Redguards did not feel the same? She was half tempted to show Anwen just what a Tongue could do. However, she still had two armed men behind her, and all of these priestesses probably had some talent for magic. She could Shout one of them off the rooftop, but she wouldn't live long afterward. Besides, she liked Senna. More importantly this was all a posturing game. "You want me to answer for my crimes? Very well. I do not remember what I did, but I apologize. I also own my mistakes. Even though I was drunk, I will make amends." Daenerys looked away from the Mistress of Discipline and locked gazes with the high priestess. "What would you have me do?"

The reclining priestess nodded her head as if she approved. "We will get to that in a little bit. However, you can start by cooperating more. Even if you don't remember your lover, you can tell us what you are doing in Markarth. I sent some girls to the market to catch up on the latest gossip. The last we heard the Dragonborn left Whiterun on a pilgrimage to see the Greybeards. It's a long way from the Throat of the World to Markarth."

"I'm not entirely certain. I took the Dragonguard south to the Throat of the World and met with the Greybeards. They acknowledged me as the Dragonborn and proclaimed me as Ysmir, Dragon of the North." A dangerous title, but one that would soon be known in Markarth if it wasn't already. "Then we went to Riften. The last I recall, I was in Riften, two days ago. I don't know how I got here."

"That's it?" scoffed Anwen. "You don't know?"

Daenerys kept her eyes focused on the high priestess, but she did answer the question. "That's right. I'll answer your questions, but I don't know how I came hundreds of leagues in one day. Can you explain it?"

"Mother, Anwen, I believe her blackout was genuine," said Senna. "I was with her when she awoke. She had no clue where she was. Perhaps a better question would be what is the last thing she does remember."

Daenerys was a bit surprised Senna spoke up at this meeting. Senna was just an acolyte, wasn't she? Regardless, Daenerys appreciated her speaking up. She gave Senna a nod and a polite smile. "The last that I remember was attending a celebration in Riften. We had killed another dragon and helped overthrow the Thieves' Guild. We also helped discover a plot against the jarl of Riften. The entire city was celebrating. The last that I remembered was drinking ale with a man named Sam. After that I don't remember anything clearly until I woke up here in Markarth."

"Nothing clearly," asked Anwen sharply. "But you do remember some things?"

Daenerys gave a long sigh of frustration. "Are we going to keep going in circles? I've already shared everything I know."

"Very well," said the high priestess with a nod of her head. "You have guesses, don't you?"

"No good guesses. I suppose it's possible that I ran into a mage who was both powerful and crazy enough to cast teleport, but that doesn't seem likely."

The high priestess shook her head. "Highly unlikely. The Psijic Order may be interested in you because you are the Dragonborn, and perhaps the Thalmor, but they wouldn't have gotten you drunk. No, there is one likely answer from the clues. Drunkness. Debauchery. Your last memory a revel. I think there is a far more likely candidate."

"Sanguine," said Arwen suspiciously. "So, you were consorting with a Daedric Prince?"

"I don't think so?" Could her mystery man be Sanguine? She didn't think so. She had a vague impression of a man laughing his ass off while she made a fool of herself. That seemed like Sanguine, but her lover had been someone else. "I don't know? I can't explain it, but I'm not a Daedra worshiper. I follow Talos." She placed her hand on her amulet for emphasis.

"She did invoke Talos," agreed Senna. "Even before she was sober. The first thing she did was grab her amulet and call upon his name for healing."

"Like Talos is any better," said Anwen. "There are Thalmor agents here in Markarth. Our jarl counts them among his trusted advisors. Just by sheltering her we risk drawing the wrath of the Thalmor and doing untold damage to our reputation in Markarth."

"Do you think Dibella cares about the Thalmor?" asked Senna. "Lady Targaryen is right. We're going in circles. Why are we debating this? She's the one."

"Senna!" Anwen said her name like the crack of a whip. "Silence."

The high priestess pushed herself to her feet. "Anwen, let her be. Senna is impulsive and young, but she is not wrong. Daenerys Targaryen is the one." The woman walked forward. "So, you said that your own your mistakes. You offered to make amends. We have a task for you. Dibella has chosen a new Sybil. Through the Protocol, we have seen her. She dwells to the north, in the small village of Karthwasten. Her family is strong in stone. They will be masons or miners. She is also endangered. A shadow we cannot see looms over her. You will travel to Karthwasten, retrieve our young Sybil, and bring her home to us. Only then will your transgression be forgiven."

When Daenerys had arrived in Whiterun after defeating Mir-Mul-Nir, she had been bombarded with requests for help: recover a missing sword, help me get a mammoth tusk, and others. Nord stories, songs, and legends were full of heroic quests. For the most part, Daenerys had ignored the requests, but this was not something she could turn down. She had promised to make amends. The Temple of Dibella was obviously wealthy and powerful. She did not want them as an enemy.

However, that didn't mean she didn't have questions. "Why me? You have temple guards and are wealthy enough to hire mercenaries if you need extra muscle, but you're asking me instead."

There was a long pause before the High Priestess spoke. "Dibella wills it. We don't hear her voice like a Sybil does, but the previous Sybil left us some guidance. Dibella wants you."

Daenerys felt like laughing. It wasn't funny. She did not want Dibella as an enemy. The gods of Tamriel were much more involved than the gods of Planetos. However, it meant all of this had been for show. They were always going to ask her to fetch this Sybil for them. "Very well, I will find your Sybil and return her safely to you."

"Thank you," said the high priestess. "May Dibella guide your path."

"Goddess watch over you," added Anwen.

"Wait!" interrupted Daenerys before Senna could join in, and they blessed her out the door. "I said that I'll go, but all I have is this dress and a pair of sandals. I'm not walking from here to Karthwasten without weapons and armor. Preferably with a horse and a companion or two." The wilderness of eastern Skyrim had been dangerous enough. In the Reach they didn't just have bandits. The Forsworn were running wild across the countryside.

The high priestess shook her head. "No, it would not be atonement if we outfitted you with weapons and armor. The task is yours, Lady Targaryen."

Daenerys was reminded of Tyrion Lannister. Everyone had told her how bright Tyrion was, but for a highly intelligent man, his plans had failed again and again. Priestesses were supposed to be wise, but this was folly. "So, that's all part of the trial? Not even a helmet so I can hide my hair? Do you think I'll make it out of the city before I'm recognized and the Thalmor arrest me? What will happen to your Sybil then?"

"Perhaps," suggested Senna. "We could offer some proper Dibellan help. I'm sure the goddess wouldn't mind if we helped by dying your hair. Perhaps in a simple bun and some makeup to look more matronly. Your eyes are distinctive, but not easily noticed from a distance, and I have an idea for them as well. No one would look too closely at someone leaving the city."

"You know that I will have to return to Markarth with the Sybil? Provided that I don't get killed wandering around the countryside without weapons or armor."

"Lady Targaryen, your complaining is unseemly. It would not be a trial if it were easy. I will allow Senna's suggestion. She can help disguise yourself, so you are not so recognizable. The rest is up to you."

Daenerys dipped her head in acknowledgment. "Very well, I accept." Not like she had any choice. Besides, she had accepted her destiny as Dragonborn, and she believed in Talos. The gods were more real in Tamriel and having Dibella as an enemy was not a good idea.

.oOo.

Daenerys followed Senna back to the room where she had awakened that morning. Not surprisingly the temple guards followed behind them. She waited until they were alone to question what happened. She did not like being set up. "You seemed rather forward for a mere acolyte, smarting off to the high priestess."

Senna shrugged. "I am just an acolyte and below the others in many ways, but we are not a rigid hierarchy. I was here waiting on you because I wanted to be. I want to help 'ja, because that is what Dibella wants. So, do'ja want my help?"

Daenerys frowned in frustration. Dibella seemed rather arbitrary about this trial. No weapons, no armor, not really much of anything. However, she had agreed to atone, and she certainly wasn't going to turn down the little help she'd been offered. "Yes, I want your help."

"Good. Now, let's talk about your hair."

Senna offered Daenerys a variety of choices in hair dye. She recommended that brown or red would look more Breton. Some dyes would wash out in days. Others were permanent and had to be grown out. The best dyes used alchemy. After listening to the choices, Daenerys decided on a potion for brunette hair. Brown being the most common color of hair, she would stand out the least. The potion had to be applied directly to her hair. The color would hold true for a week but would fade quickly after that returning her hair to its natural blonde. As far as Daenerys was concerned that was better than a dye that would leave her hair stained. Senna left briefly, returned with a potion, and then helped her apply it. Senna had her lay back in a chair with towels to cover her and let her hair fall behind her.

"I heard 'ja studied magic at the College of Winterhold. Is that true?" asked Senna as she massaged the potion into her hair.

Daenerys found the scalp massage she was receiving to be relaxing, even if she was a little conflicted about dying her hair. At least it was only for a week. "That's true. I did."

"Did 'ja study any Alchemy? Because this is a simple potion. Even I can manage it. Just pine bark and common brown moth wings."

"No, the Master of Alchemy position at the College of Winterhold is currently vacant." According to Faralda it was because Archmage Savos Aren considered Alchemy to be a trade and not a true magical art. Although the fact that he wasn't very good at Alchemy might have contributed. "I know it works different from spells, but not how."

Senna continued working the potion into her hair, moving down her long tresses. "That's true. 'Ja don't have to be able to touch your own magicka to make a potion. There is magic in everything. Just mixing them can make a potion. Of course, the best alchemists add their own, picking and choosing which properties to enhance. What makes Alchemy different, is you have to know the properties of things. Brown is a very easy property. Just about anyone could make this potion."

Daenerys filed that information for later use. "So, just grind up brown moth wings and pine bark into a fine powder with a mortar and pestle while focusing upon the brownness of it, then mix with clean water?" That was about all her knowledge of Alchemy covered. Supposedly just about anyone could follow basic Alchemy recipes.

"Right you are, luv." She laughed. "Of course, there's a lot more to it if 'ja to move beyond simples. A lot of the best reagents are also poison if you mix them wrong, and like I said the best alchemists do infuse their own magic to strengthen the potion." She removed her hands, and wiped them clean on a towel. "And done. What do 'ja think?" She offered Daenerys a mirror.

Daenerys looked at her hair and ignored that it was wet and tangled. "It's brown." Even her eyebrows were brown. She didn't like it. Despite the reputation of her House, she was proud of her hair because it was a mark of her Targaryen heritage, but as a disguise it worked. "It's does change my appearance."

"That it does, luv. Now, let's see if we can do something about your eyes."

Daenerys didn't see how they could change the color of her eyes without another potion, but Senna had another idea, facepaint. She painted a horizontal stripe of red across her eyes. Daenerys was surprised by the result. The red of the facepaint made her eyes look grey instead of purple. Not completely, but she could hardly recognize herself in the mirror.

"Thank you, Senna. This will help me avoid being noticed, but… You said that you avoid facepaint when you venture into Markarth, so you look like a Breton instead of a Reachman. Reachwoman?"

"Reachman, Reacherwoman, or just Reachers. It's just a little paint. Reachers mostly wear more elaborate facepaint and usually with an animal theme. I can take it off, but I think it helps hide your eyes."

"It does, and with the Thalmor in Markarth that is more important. I need to hide. Speaking of which…" She glanced at where her amulet of Talos lay upon the table. The priestesses of Dibella had already known who she was. Flaunting her amulet of Talos had been a statement. Wearing out of the temple and into the streets in a city where the Thalmor had free reign would be stupid. "I know that I arrived naked, and I appreciate having something to wear, but do you have another dress? Preferably something with a high neck and a kirtle?"

Most Nord women wore dresses that consisted of three pieces: a smock underneath, a kirtle over it, and optionally a corset over that to narrow the waist and emphasize the bust. The dress she was wearing now was just a smock supported by two straps it didn't even have sleeves. It showed a lot of cleavage. Too much, in fact. She hadn't worried about it before, because… she hadn't really thought it through. She'd been playing catch up ever since she awoke. In Essos the dress she was wearing would be considered tame, but in Skyrim it was daring. It was the dress that a tavern wench or a whore would wear. There was a fine line between the two. When she'd been working at the Sleeping Giant Inn, she'd covered up with a cloak outside the tavern.

Senna sighed. "I'm sorry, luv. You're lucky we even had the dress you're wearing now. We're not a merchant's shop. This was all we could scrounge up unless 'ja fancy wearing a pair of men's breeches."

"No, I don't fancy a pair of men's breeches." It was difficult not to snap at Senna. Maybe the dress she was now wearing had been all they had on hand, but sending someone to buy a cheap dress would be trivial. The temple could obviously afford it. Or, they could let her wear an acolyte's dress like Senna. This dress was obviously another part of her trial. She was beginning to wonder if Dibella was trying to teach her some kind of lesson in humility. "If you don't have a dress, could I at least have a beltpouch or a purse? I don't think it is a good idea to flaunt my amulet of Talos outside the temple."

"Oh?" she asked with fake innocence. "It didn't bother 'ja to wear it in front of the priestess."

"They already knew, and I wasn't hiding from them. I will need to hide my amulet from the Thalmor and maybe the Markarth guards as well."

"Oh, for certain from the guards as well. Your amulet and your not-a-wedding ring both. I'll give 'ja my own beltpouch. I can always buy another, but 'ja shouldn't take them with you. Not looking like 'ja do now. Don't forget 'ja look like a Breton now with your height and your hair. The way you're dressed 'ja look like, well… a whore. The Markarth guards won't hesitate to stop and search you just because. If they find that amulet or that ring they'll send 'ja to the mines at best. They might turn 'ja over to the Thalmor. I hear they like to make examples of Talos worshipers."

Daenerys sighed. She had expected as much, which was why she asked for a proper Nord dress with a kirtle. "Can I leave my amulet with you? I plan to be in the city for a few days. I don't know what the priestesses were thinking, but I'm not leaving Markarth without at least a weapon and some armor."

"That's probably wise of 'ja. Just the amulet? If they catch 'ja with that ring, they'll call you a thief."

"The ring too, I suppose." Daenerys removed her necklace and handed the amulet and her ring to Senna. "The amulet was given to me by someone dear to my heart. Take care of it for me."

"Oh-ho, the amulet came from someone dear, but what about that ring?" Senna tucked them away in her beltpouch before holding up her hand. "I was just funning wit 'ja. As Dibella is my witness, I will keep them safe until you return to reclaim them."

Daenerys nodded in approval. She couldn't ask for a stronger oath from a priestess. "Thank you. I appreciate all you've done for me."

"It's not much. It was even fun to put my beauty skills to work at something different. I can't give 'ja any more direct help, but I could offer a few suggestions about Markarth."

Daenerys nodded. "I'm listening."

"You're right about it not being safe to wander the Reaches unarmed. The Forsworn are becoming more and more bold. So, when 'ja was studying at the College of Winterhold did 'ja learn any spells? Or can you only Shout?"

"I have reached apprentice level Destruction magic: Firebolt, Ice Spike, and Lightning Bolt. Plus, I can heal. I'm not sure where I stand at Restoration magic any longer. I was at novice level when I left the College of Winterhold, but since I embraced Talos my healing has improved."

"Oh, that's good. That's better than I thought. Well, I hear a lot working at the temple. I know two people who might want to hire a mage. There is a Vigilant of Stendarr in Markarth. He was here at the temple yesterday asking for help rooting out daedric influences. He might be willing to pay you. He's staying at the Silver Blood Inn near the main gate."

"I will certainly consider him." Stendarr was the god of mercy, justice, and many other things. She had heard of the order of Vigilants of Stendarr. They were basically wandering knights who sought and destroyed daedra, vampires, witches, and other evil creatures. They were one of the reasons she tried to keep her dealings with Daedric Princes quiet. While they might oppose her if they knew of her deals, she supported their mission. She understood they did a lot of good. Given how far Markarth was from the Rift, this Vigilant had no way of knowing about her deal with Barbas. "What was the second suggestion?"

"His name is Eltrys. He's Breton and he's fed up with all the murders. He thinks there is more to it than just the Forsworn. He has been running around the city poking his nose into things. He might want a bodyguard and he could afford it. Of course, he might attract attention doing it." She shrugged. "Maybe that isn't a good lead, but I'd like to have answers as well because of my family."

"Of course, you would," agreed Daenerys. Although she agreed poking her nose into things sounded like a way to draw the wrong sort of attention. That would make him her second choice. "Where can I find him?"

"You can find him at the smelters. He works there as an overseer. You can just follow the rivers down to the smelter. He shouldn't be hard to find. At the very least he could probably help 'ja get a place to sleep in the Warrens. That's where the men who work the smelter sleep. It's falling down, but it's cheap and better than getting swept up by the guard for vagrancy."

"I'll keep that in mind." If things weren't bad enough, she also had to find a place to sleep before nightfall, and she had no money. She wanted to protest the fairness of this trial again. Even with the little help that Senna was providing, she was starting from nothing. She kept a reign on her frustration and politely asked, "Is there a purpose to this trial? To stripping me down to nothing?"

Senna grasped her amulet and closed her eyes. After a moment she opened them again. "There is, not that I understand it any longer. Not since I stepped down."

Stepped down? Did that mean what she thought it did? "Senna? Did you used to be the Sybil?"

Senna's smile vanished and was replaced by a wistful look. "I was, once, but now I am not any longer." She sighed and shrugged. "I was long overdue to step down. Sybils are chosen as children, while we're pure and innocent, but Dibella is the goddess of sex. There is only so long you can remain a child. There are compensations…" She gave a saucy wink. "Still, it was nice. I don't know what all Dibella has planned for 'ja. I wasn't even certain 'ja were the one at first, but after talking to 'ja, I was certain."

"I see… No, actually I don't. I'm not even sure what a Sybil is to be honest. I'm an outlander and I never heard the word before today."

Senna laughed. "Most gods have prophets of some sort of another. Dibella always chooses young girls, and they are called Sybils. Not every temple has one, but Markarth has for several generations. Being a Sybil, is like having an imaginary friend who happens to be a goddess. However, this isn't about me. It's partly about 'ja, but it's also about a little girl. I think you are wise to acquire weapons and armor before setting forth, but don't lose sight of the goal. The Sybil is just a little girl. She'll be remarkably innocent of the ways of the world, and I fear she will be in some danger. This is your trial, but she needs to be brought back here, to the temple. We will keep her safe and care for her."

Daenerys nodded formally. "I understand. I was a lost little girl once."

Senna smiled. "Perhaps, that's why Dibella chose 'ja. I'll pray for 'ja. Go in peace, Lady Targaryen. May Dibella, Talos, and the rest of the Nine watch over 'ja."