Chapter Summary: Miranja and Erik continue their work for Jarl Igmund, and accidentally find another adventure in the Reach.

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Miranja and Erik helped themselves to the Forsworn's food stores for their breakfast, packing a few apples and bottles of ale and filling their water skins, then they began their trek back to Markarth. It was past midmorning when they knelt before the Jarl and advised him that Broken Tower Redoubt was clear of Forsworn. Igmund rewarded Miranja with five hundred septims. She put half of the money in her pack with her cumulative savings and gave the rest to Erik, who looked proud as punch. Igmund looked at her with more respect – and more interest – and she worried just a little that her expression must be bordering on gloating as she smiled defiantly back at him, one brow lifted.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, my Jarl?" she purred coolly, wanting to project to him the idea that those Forsworn had been easy as pie. Maybe not THAT easy, but at least easier than the ones at Kolskeggr.

Igmund sat forward in his throne, fixing her with a challenging look that made her nethers twitch. She leaned toward him expectantly, and whether she licked her lips on purpose or not even she wouldn't have been able to say if asked, but Igmund's eyes darted momentarily to her mouth and his eyes nearly smoldered.

"I do," he said, maintaining his voice of authority. "A personal matter. My father died trying to negotiate with the Forsworn, back when it could still be done. They passed his shield on to those hagraven abominations they commune with. If you could get that shield back, you would honor me and my father more than I could tell you. Last I was informed, it was at Blind Cliff Bastion. I warn you: it's dangerous, and hardly anyone faces a hagraven and lives to tell the tale."

"Consider it done, Jarl Igmund," she told him confidently, actually feeling slightly more confident having already faced a hagraven and lived. In the very moment that she blinked, she could have sworn she saw him wink at her, but his face was perfectly serious, so she wasn't sure and sure wasn't going to ask.

Miranja had gotten rather too confident in her familiarity with Skyrim, and she unknowingly took Erick in the wrong direction. They ended up visiting Dushnikh Yal, where she met with Chief Burguk and got introduced to the residents. She kept catching the chief's son Nagrub, a burly, rather handsome young man, watching her and turning away just a little too slowly when she looked. She was least impressed with the chief's "favored" wife, Shel, who seemed to have nothing going for her but her looks. She hoped the more hard-working wives got their share of their husband's… appreciation. She still had a difficult time understanding stronghold life. Although the women were strong, it seemed they were still subjected to the wishes of the men. She made sure to pay her respects to the chief's mother, Murbul, and to purchase a couple of potions, before moving on.

When they reached the tower Miranja had been looking for, Miranja pulled out her map to exclaim, "Here we are, Blind Cl… Reachwind Eyrie?" Disbelief turned into a scowl of irritation when she searched the map and found Blind Cliff Bastion was to the northeast of Markarth.

"Well, gods damn it," Miranja sighed heavily. She checked the map again and found that Old Hroldan seemed to be the closest place with a bed, and as long as she didn't get sucked into any side adventures along the way, they should make it there in time for supper. "I'm sorry, Erik. I should have checked the map first. I could have sworn I already knew where Blind Cliff Bastion was."

"It's okay, Miss Miranja," Erik consoled, taking one of her hands away from the map and squeezing it. He brought her fingers to his lips. "It gives me more time to adventure with you." He winked, and Miranja knew exactly what he wasn't saying.

They managed to get to Old Hroldan without meeting any Forsworn, although there was a bear and a roadside skooma dealer. The man on the porch identified himself as Leontius Salvius, which reminded Miranja that she'd been carrying a letter for him from his father since the last time she'd been to Markarth. Old Hroldan was normally rather out of the way, and she hadn't had an opportunity to come here until now. Leontius was not very happy about the letter, but didn't seem surprised; he and his father had apparently long had a bone of contention between them. He didn't seem like such a bad guy to Miranja, not like his father had made him out to be. He gave Miranja a few coins for her trouble.

The inn was run by a single mother and her precocious son, and Miranja took a liking to them both. Eydis, the innkeeper, told Miranja that Tiber Septim himself had stayed there in the Second Era and they still had – and rented – the sturdy old bed he'd slept in all those hundreds of years ago. Erik was amazed and excited about sleeping in it; Miranja was dubious, but still excited about getting a comfortable double bed. She was especially pleased when she found that no matter how hard she bounced on the bed, it was solid as a rock and made no noise.

"I wonder if any Dragonborns have slept in this bed between Tiber Septim and you?" Erik speculated.

"Don't know, don't care," Miranja quipped. "But I know at least one of the Dragonborns will have had sex in this bed, come tomorrow morning. Wonder how many other past Dragonborns could say that?"

"Don't know, don't care," Erik mimicked. "I'll just be proud to know that I was the one who was with her."

"Aww, Erik. You're so sweet." She reached out and tugged playfully at his nearest braid, and for a moment his expression wasn't as innocent as usual, and she saw a young Ulfric Stormcloak. To mask her surprise, she turned away quickly and pounced on the idea of getting dinner out of the way as soon as possible, so they could come back to the room and get naked.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Erik grinned, the boyish look once again dominating his face. His endearing smile warmed Miranja's heart.

They washed up, changed, and went out to the taproom to have supper with Eydis and Skuli.

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"AAAGGGHHH!"

Miranja and Erik bolted awake and out of bed, holding the bed furs around themselves as they hurried out to the taproom to investigate.

"A ghost!" Eydis cried, pointing to the opposite end of the inn.

Sure enough, they could all see a bluish-white apparition, seated calmly at the table on the far side of the door. By now, Miranja had already seen enough ghosts to know that this one was not aggressive.

"Leave him be for now," Miranja told Eydis quietly. "I'm going to get washed up and dressed as quickly as I can, then I'll check him out for you. In the meantime, if you would, please go on ahead and start some breakfast. I'm ninety-nine percent sure he's not going to bother you."

Skuli took his mother's hand and patted it, smiling reassuringly at her. Miranja could tell by his fidgeting that he was excited to have something new and unusual happening.

Eydis smiled back at her son before turning to speak to Miranja again. "I've heard stories that Old Hroldan was haunted, but no one's seen a ghost here since the Great War. He's from the battle, I just know it. He's one of Tiber Septim's soldiers… back from the dead."

Miranja frowned and nodded thoughtfully but didn't speak. She turned and gestured to Erik to come back to the room with her. The Great War had ended twenty-six years ago, and the second era – and Tiber Septim along with it – had ended over six hundred years ago. What sort of ghost had appeared during the Great War? The same one? A newer one? Why was this one here now? Because of her? She and Tiber Septim were both Dragonborn. Had another Dragonborn stayed here during the Great War, prompting the other ghost to appear? These, of course, were questions she'd never know the answers to, but they were the things she naturally tended to wonder about.

Twenty minutes later, Miranja and Erik emerged clean and armored.

"Got some eggs scrambled with some leeks and potatoes," Eydis informed them. "And juniper tea."

"Thank you, Eydis. We'll be ready as soon as I check out your ghost."

The ghost seemed to have her confused with someone called Hjalti, and wanted Hjalti to give him his sword and make him a sworn brother. Hjalti had apparently left him hanging, even in death. Miranja was at a loss. She'd never heard of a Hjalti, and she certainly didn't know where to find his sword, but she played along.

Over breakfast, she asked Eydis, who speculated that Hjalti may have been one of Tiber Septim's many names. "I remember a legend that Tiber Septim had attacked one of the enemy camps before he came to Old Hroldan. The sword could be there. I'll mark it down on your map."

Miranja was really only concerned with getting to Blind Cliff Bastion and getting that shield for Jarl Igmund, but Erik was practically peeing his pants with excitement about helping a mysterious old ghost from the Second Era, and he pointed out that Serpent's Bluff Redoubt wasn't that far away.

"We're getting better at fighting Forsworn," he insisted, though Miranja's stomach still clenched up at the thought of it. "The Jarl's waited this long to get his father's shield back; he can wait another day."

Miranja reluctantly agreed, and Eydis helpfully advised them that if they took the road south until they came to the big signpost, behind the sign was a small switchback path up the side of the mountain that would take them close to Serpent's Bluff.

In addition to the normal Forsworn, they found a Briar-Heart outdoors and a hagraven inside the ruin. Miranja was horrified at how eagerly Erik ran in swinging. She hung back, watching carefully and directing magic attacks at the enemies when she had clear shots, although they didn't seem to be helping much. She was thankful for the glass armor she'd looted in her previous adventures; she still wore elven gauntlets and boots, but wearing mostly glass reduced the amount of shock damage she took from the Briar-Heart's attacks. She also had a magic-resistant elven shield, which helped against both him and the ice spike-shooting hagraven. Erik's natural Nord resistance to cold helped protect him, and they made it through with fewer injuries than Miranja had feared.

It was lunchtime by the time they returned to the inn, and they were surprised to receive lessons in one-handed combat and blocking from the unnamed specter. Once the lessons were complete, the ghost thanked Miranja once again and expressed his deep honor at finally being Hjalti's sworn brother, then promptly faded out of sight, possibly to never be seen again on this plane of existence.

"I was just getting used to him being here," Eydis half-joked, half-lamented, "and now he's gone again." She didn't speak the words, but Miranja suspected Eydis might have been hoping to capitalize on his presence.

"Well, he seems to be happy and able to rest now," Miranja shrugged. "I suppose we've done him quite a service. Thank you for your hospitality, Miss Eydis. Maybe we'll see you again someday."

"Safe travels," Eydis replied, and Skuli echoed her.

It took them several hours to get to Blind Cliff Bastion, thanks to a blood dragon that attacked them on the road. By that time, they were running out of daylight. They found their way to the towers first, but couldn't figure out how to get in. They must have spent another hour circling the area, climbing rocky cliffs, finding nothing. Eventually, they realized that there was a cave entrance right by the road along the Karth River, and Erik was less than thrilled about entering another cave. He'd indicated his discomfort with being underground when they'd entered Mouldering Ruins on their first day together.

There were several Forsworn in the cave, barring the way to the fallen subterranean tower that angled up to the towers above. Miranja wanted to pick them off one at a time, using her bow to shoot down the hanging lanterns and start fires, but Erik charged right in with his treasured ebony greatsword she'd given him, and Miranja could hardly keep up with him.

It had finally occurred to her that Reachmen were basically Bretons, and resistant to magic, so she now understood that using her magic against them was practically useless. Arrows didn't do much to them, either; she didn't know why they were so strong, especially when they wore next to nothing. She drew Dragonbane – her only sword – and prepared her magic-resistant shield and dashed after Erik, as ready as she could be to back him up once she caught up.

It got dicey when they made it out to the tower above and there were several Forsworn who could see them but they couldn't immediately see. The Forsworn had the higher ground and the friends had to dodge continually while moving forward as quickly as they could. At the top of the tower, having finally taken out their attackers, they stopped for a brief rest and Miranja healed herself and Erik before they crossed the walkway and entered the second tower.

As soon as the door closed behind them, they had to stop and adjust their eyes to the darkness. In the silence, all they could hear was loud, rasping breathing. After their side adventure to Serpent's Bluff, they both knew that sound: hagraven. Miranja willed her eyes to adjust faster. Where was the hagraven? She didn't want to be caught by surprise.

They quietly drew their weapons and crept forward, hypervigilant. It wasn't long before they could see a caged hagraven. Almost before the image fully registered in their minds, it spoke.

"Who enters? Will nobody save poor Melka?"

Miranja and Erik exchanged a glance. Forsworn were friendly with hagravens. Why was this one caged?

"You, meat! Come, come."

They had little choice; they still hadn't found the shield. Maybe the hagraven could tell them where to find it.

Miranja stepped up to the cage and the hagraven implored again: "Pretty, pretty flesh. Let me out!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Petra! Evil Petra put me here, stole my tower. Hate her, chew her bones! Let me out, kind, kind meat."

Miranja was hesitant to release the creature, but it – she – seemed bent on nothing but revenge against the hagraven who had stolen her tower and imprisoned her. She promised her magical staff to Miranja in return for helping her.

While there were more Forsworn along the way, including the last room at the top of the tower, where they found Petra, there were no Briar-Hearts, and killing them was relatively easy. They took on the two Forsworn at the top while Melka took on Petra, and afterwards Melka gave Miranja the staff, as promised.

"Kill something pretty with it," Melka said, and Miranja didn't know whether to cringe or laugh, but she thanked Melka, figuring manners couldn't hurt when dealing with a hagraven.

They found the shield in a large chest beyond Petra's body, along with some gold and other loot they could sell in the city. It was still dark when they left the towers, but there was light on the horizon. They were tired and hungry, and although they couldn't sleep, they did still have some apples and ale from Broken Tower Redoubt, so they had a sort of breakfast as they traveled back to town.

Upon their return to Markarth shortly after dawn, the first thing Miranja did was check them in at the inn and nap with Erik for a couple of hours. Later, after a satisfying meal, they returned to Jarl Igmund to present him with the shield.

Igmund's eyes widened and shone with unshed tears as he accepted and gazed upon the long-lost family relic, but he quickly sobered and addressed her formally and respectfully. "You've honored my father's memory in more ways than I have words to say. Thank you, Dragonborn." He granted her permission to purchase property and advised her to speak to Raerik if she was interested. He also awarded her with a set of dwarven armor, which she accepted graciously, all too aware of Erik standing at her shoulder in the dwarven armor they'd just bought for him at Ghorza's forge.

Knowing the requirements for becoming Thane, Miranja gave Igmund a respectful nod and turned toward Raerik. "Vlindrel Hall, I imagine?" she smiled. It was the only property, aside from the "haunted" house next to the general store, that seemed to be available in Markarth.

"Right you are, young lady," Raerik told her. "Not too high for you, is it?" he joked, and Miranja shook her head with a smile. He gestured to the nearby page and requested the deed, the key, and an inkpot and a quill be brought to him from his quarters. As the page hurried off, Miranja counted out her coin, having begun to keep her money in bags of two hundred fifty coins each for easy reference. When she'd left home, she'd never imagined that keeping track of all her money would become an issue for her, especially after losing everything at the border. Now here she was, purchasing her third property in Skyrim, preparing to be dubbed a Thane in her third hold. She couldn't wait to write her parents.

A few minutes later, the ink on the deed still drying, she asked Igmund if there was anything else she could do for him. He told her that he'd already heard of the deeds she'd done around town – he'd been having her checked out while she'd been out doing the "errands" he'd sent her on – and he was impressed with her kind heart and her initiative. He offered her the thane position she had been hoping for, and she accepted with a smile and a humble bow. Igmund gazed steadily at her with an enigmatic smile, nodding ever so slightly. He stood and offered his hand, and she shook it – firmly.

"Welcome to my court, Thane Miranja. Don't be a stranger."

"I'll try not to, my Jarl," she told him. "I don't tend to stay in one place very long since coming to Skyrim."

"I've heard that about you, Dragonborn. I've also heard about the return of the World-Eater. We're all counting on you to fulfill the prophecy."

"Helping you with Forsworn is helping me prepare to face Alduin," Miranja assured him. "Mutually beneficial."

"Be careful out there, Miranja. You're an amazing young woman, and a blessing to all Skyrim."

"I do my best, sir."

"May the gods watch over your battles."

"Thank you, my Jarl."

On the way out of the Keep, Miranja was stopped by a familiar voice. "Dragonborn, may I have a word?"

Turning toward Ondolemar, she quipped, "Did you have a particular word in mind?" She was certain she could feel Erik bristling behind her.

"A private word," Ondolemar intoned, nodding over Miranja's shoulder at Erik and extending a staying hand toward his soldiers.

They stepped aside a few paces and spoke in subdued voices.

"Will you be staying another night in Markarth? I've been replaying the other night in my head since the moment you left my quarters."

Miranja kept her face serious in case anyone was in viewing distance. "I enjoyed our evening together, as well, Commander, and I, too, look forward to spending time with you again. However, I just purchased a home here and was named a thane. I'm on my way to inspect my new property and meet my housecarl. Then, I'm afraid, I'll be moving on. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but hopefully soon, so my housecarl doesn't have to go long without adequate furnishings."

"Congratulations are in order, then. I hope you will inform me next time you visit Markarth, Thane Miranja." His face was as serious as hers, but his eyes smoldered.

"Rest assured, Commander." She smoldered back at him, allowing her nostrils to flare just a bit.

"What's up with that justiciar?" Erik asked her as they continued toward the front doors.

Miranja thought quickly. "He thinks I know something," she told him, a half-lie. Ondolemar had asked when she'd be back, and she didn't know.

"You're lucky he hasn't had you captured and interrogated," Erik said with a shudder.

Oh, Erik, if you only knew, she thought. She wondered if Erik would still respect and admire her if he did know. Even knowing that Ondolemar's presence here was a farce in his own eyes, she still felt guilt and shame for sleeping with him. Even so, she knew she would do it again the first chance she got.

"Probably so," she said aloud, pushing the door open to the sunlight.