Chapter Summary: Miranja meets her favorite storybook heroes and performs some acts of kindness in Riften.

***Note: made some edits, so republishing!

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"You know, a few weeks ago I found that Orc stronghold near Kynesgrove – Narzulbur, I think it was called. They told me that if I found something called the Forgemaster's Fingers, they'd allow me inside. I think it would be a good thing to be on good terms with the Orcs, don't you?"

"I try to be on good terms with everyone – except Sven," Faendal replied, making Miranja smile and shake her head.

They were having breakfast at the Candlehearth, discussing what Miranja wanted to do next.

"They said there was a rumor the gauntlets are in a place called Ansilvund, which is on the way to Riften, more or less. I think we should check it out, since we're going that way, anyway." They had several reasons for going to Riften: she wanted to report back to Dinya that she'd reunited the ghost couple and see what else Dinya might have for her to do in Lady Mara's service, she wanted to show Brand-Shei what she'd found, and she wanted to check out this face sculptor that everyone kept telling her about.

"If I'm not mistaken, that's a Nord crypt," Faendal said. "I guess I'm up for some more draugr hunting. I'm almost starting to look forward to it. The adrenaline rush is a real kick." He smiled sardonically, and Miranja wasn't sure if he was serious or joking. Faendal saw her scrutinizing look and clarified. "Most of the time, they're not much of a challenge. It's those overlords that are a real test of mettle. But I'm confident that the two of us together can take them out. Like I've said before, draugr are slow and clumsy."

"I don't know, that draugr overlord at Bleak Falls Barrow was pretty quick, and it could even Shout at us – they don't even have to move to Shout. But yeah, I think we can handle it." Inwardly, she hoped those wouldn't be her famous last words.

Faendal reached over and squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. Just his touch brought a thrill to her body. But then, ever since just before puberty, physical touch had had that effect on her. She didn't know why she seemed to be different from everyone else, but it seemed that sexual arousal almost always bubbled just below the surface. When someone – man or woman, it didn't matter – touched her, it was more pleasurable than just about anything else. Something about the intimacy of it, on top of the obvious physical pleasure. Most people didn't touch others unless they were close – friends or relatives. She idly played with his fingers, luxuriating in the intimacy of such a simple act, still excited that he was open to her contact. There were other patrons present, so she had to quash her urge to kiss all of his fingertips.

"Well," Faendal began, laying his free hand over Miranja's and gently pulling his other hand back, "the sooner we get started, the sooner we can get those gauntlets. I'm ready if you are."

"Why do I do this to myself?" Miranja mused aloud.

"Do what?"

"Keep going into these dangerous, scary places. I must be a glutton for punishment." She grinned and shook her head, but inside she was filled with a strange mix of dread and anticipation. Part of her was still afraid of what they might find whenever they entered a new cave or crypt, but part of her seemed to – as Faendal had said – get a kick from the adrenaline rush. Certainly, defending each other from enemies and coming out alive was a good stimulus for some amazingly good sex!

They needed to unload some stuff before leaving town, to make room for whatever they might find at Ansilvund, so they visited Revyn Sadri and Oengul the smith. It was after midday when they reached Ansilvund. As she had come to expect, the place was guarded by someone unsavory. This time, it was a conjurer, but thankfully there was only the one – and her frost atronach. They explored the little tower and bagged what caught their interest, then ate a quick lunch and rested a bit at the outdoor table before venturing into the excavation.

"Of Fjori and Holgeir," Miranja commented, stroking the cover of the book on the table. "My mum used to read me that story when I was little. Heartbreaking and romantic. It may have contributed to my ridiculous romanticism." She smiled playfully at Faendal, and he smiled a little in return, but remained serious.

"There's nothing ridiculous about being a romantic," he stated. "In my book – no pun intended – a little romanticism is good for the soul." He reached out and brushed a wisp of loose hair back from Miranja's face, and she fell in love with him just a little more.

"Of course, when I got older I started thinking about how Fjori went all the way to Akavir to get a cure for Holgeir, and he was still alive when she returned, but when she was bitten, she died immediately. Sure, her strength was depleted from the journey, but…" She shrugged. "Oh, well, it's still a nice story."

Ansilvund, as it turned out, was full of mages and enslaved draugr, which were being made to either mine ore or further the excavation. The mages were more of a challenge than the draugr – until they got to the end and faced the woman whose voice they'd heard since almost the beginning of their infiltration – Lu'ah al-Skaven. She was a powerful conjurer, and she conjured powerful draugr. Once Miranja and Faendal had defeated her and inspected the draugr, Miranja realized with dismay that the draugr were none other than Fjori and Holgeir themselves! Her dismay was short-lived, however; the ghosts of the star-crossed lovers appeared to her and Faendal, thanking them for releasing their bound spirits from that mad woman and rewarding Miranja with a unique spectral sword called Ghostsword. Miranja was a bit overwhelmed with emotion at being able to interact, however briefly, with two of her favorite legends. She was proud that she had made it through all the obstacles and been able to free them and allow them their well-deserved rest.

They found the Forgemaster's Fingers in the large chest in Lu'ah's private chamber, along with other assorted treasures. They were exhausted after spending all night fighting their way through the crypt, so they took advantage of Lu'ah's bed for a nap. It was midmorning when they awakened, and they found themselves rushing to make sure they got to Riften before nightfall.

When they reached Riften, Miranja first stopped by Merryfair Farm. She had been carrying Dravin's bow around with her ever since she'd scoured the Ratway looking for Esbern. It pleased her heart to see sour Dravin smile, and although she tried to refuse his reward, he insisted on giving her a little something for her trouble.

Once inside the city, Miranja reported to Dinya first, receiving a blessing from Mara to help her resist magic. Sure could have used that in Ansilvund, she thought wryly to herself. She asked Dinya if there was any more work she could do for Lady Mara, and Dinya asked her to distribute some missives about the temple to the residents of Riften. Miranja was happy to spread some more of Mara's love. It didn't take long to give them all away, and she even went back and asked for more. When she reported to Dinya that she had distributed as many flyers as there were available residents, Dinya rewarded her with a potion. Miranja, being the physically affectionate person that she was, hugged Dinya tightly and thanked her for the opportunity to get closer to Lady Mara.

"Please let me know if there's every anything else that I can do for you, the temple, or Lady Mara," Miranja told her.

"You'll be the first to know, child," Dinya assured her.

Miranja went down to the docks to look for Valindor. She may not be able to get him into bed, but she could still eat him up with her eyes while they talked, and he was interesting company. He and Faendal were from the same "city" in Valenwood, so the two of them had plenty to talk about. Bolli was a kind and lenient employer, and he didn't care if they visited Valindor while he worked, as long as he did continue to work during their visit. It warmed Miranja's heart to listen to her dear Bosmer friends swap stories. She hoped she could visit Valenwood someday. As they talked, she began to notice that Valindor was subtly flirting with Faendal, and she wondered if Faendal was noticing it, too. If he was, he wasn't reacting to it in any noticeable way.

While they were at the fishery, Miranja spoke with Wujeeta, the Argonian woman who worked with Valindor, and Wujeeta confided in her about her skooma addiction, asking for a healing potion to help her recover. She was afraid the addiction was going to cost her her job, which she liked, and she was going to swear off the stuff if she could just get it out of her system. Miranja gave her the potion, but made her tell her who she was getting the skooma from. It was a Dunmer man Miranja hadn't yet met, by the name of Sarthis Idren, who operated out of the Riften Warehouse.

Miranja took this information to the Jarl, who confessed they knew about Sarthis' skooma operation but had had no luck catching him or finding evidence. She said she suspected that Sarthis had someone inside the keep alerting him to their raids before they happened, and she asked if Miranja would be willing to investigate, saying that an outsider might have better luck.

In the hopes of ingratiating herself to the Jarl and possibly getting permission to purchase that dockside home next to the bunkhouse, Miranja agreed to take on the mission. She took the key to the warehouse and braced herself. There was indeed a fight waiting for them, but there was only Sarthis and his lackey. Sarthis was a bit of a challenge, but he was no match for Miranja and Faendal together. She reported to the Jarl that she'd found a note in Sarthis' little "office" that mentioned Cragslane Cavern as the source of Sarthis' skooma. Her job wasn't done yet; she was now tasked with taking out the skooma operation at Cragslane.

But that would have to wait until tomorrow. It was getting late, and she had one more very important piece of business to take care of. She had saved Brand-Shei for last, although she had spoken with him briefly while handing out missives. Her heart had broken when Brand-Shei had said cryptically, "Lady Mara can't help me. No one can." She didn't know what he meant by that, but she hoped her news about what she had found would make him feel better.

She found him having supper at the bunkhouse. The smell of warm food reminded Miranja that she hadn't eaten since she and Faendal had snacked on some fruit and dried meat on the way to Riften. Her stomach growled.

As Miranja started toward Brand-Shei, Wujeeta passed close to her and thanked her once again for her help earlier.

"It was nothing," Miranja demurred. "I'm very happy to help you, my friend. And for the record, Sarthis is dead, and I'm going to take care of the rest of that skooma ring tomorrow. You'll have no worries about anyone retaliating because there won't be any of them left by the time I'm finished."

"Oh, Miranja, that is the best news I've had all week – all month! Thank you from the bottom of my scaly old heart."

Miranja hugged her impulsively and kissed the cool, smooth scales of her cheek. "Take good care, dear." She was aware of Grelka making retching noises from her corner of the room, and ignored her, focusing instead on Brand-shei.

"Hey," she said, approaching his table, "now that I'm done with Mara's work for now, I finally have time to really visit with you, Brand-Shei."

"Have you found out anything yet?" Brand-Shei was quick to ask.

She smiled at him with shining wet eyes; she was partly excited to reveal his heritage to him, but simultaneously saddened, expecting that he would learn the difficult circumstances of his being orphaned and then he, too, would be heartbroken that he would never be able to contact his real family.

"Let's go somewhere quieter," she requested.

"You have, haven't you?" Brand-Shei asked eagerly, leading her upstairs to the bed he slept in.

Miranja didn't answer him. When they reached Brand-Shei's bed, she took off her pack, set it on top of the chest at the foot of his bed, and rummaged within. She withdrew the journal and presented it to him on both hands, and Brand-Shei's face darkened with concern when a tear slipped from Miranja's eye and trickled down her cheek. "Is it bad?"

"I guess that's for you to decide, Brand-Shei," she replied as he took the journal and opened it. She wanted to tell him that she, personally, found it bittersweet, but she didn't want to spoil anything for him. She waited with bated breath as he sat down on the bed and read it. His eyes filled with tears and he looked up at her with a warm but sad smile.

"Thank you for this," he said with a slight quaver in his voice.

"You ARE a Telvanni… Brandyl," Miranja said, reaching for his free hand to squeeze it as he laid the journal down beside him. "I'm just sorry that it seems none of your family survived the Accession War. And if your wet nurse survived the shipwreck, I have no idea where she would be now, if she's even still alive."

Brand-Shei squeezed her hand back, then stood and pulled her into a tight hug, which she returned with brows knit and eyes squeezed shut against more tears.

"It's enough just to know," Brand-Shei murmured into her hair. "I can't thank you enough for risking your own safety to do this for me. You are a true friend."

"I'm quite happy to have helped," Miranja said against his shoulder. She pulled back to look into his eyes with compassion and concern. "You'll be all right, then?"

Brand-Shei gave her an out-of-character kiss on the forehead, which warmed her heart and made her smile. "Yes, I'll be all right. I've spent nearly two hundred years not knowing anything about my own people. I'm not quite sure how to feel about being raised by some of the same people who killed my family; I have to think about that. But I know that it's too late to try to retake any sort of place in House Telvanni. I'm just a lowly, ignorant merchant. I'll stick with what I know."

"I don't know if your adopted parents were involved in the sacking of your family's home, but they were obviously kind-hearted enough to have a conscience about their people orphaning a Dunmer baby in their uprising. There are good people involved in every bad situation, and you were blessed that they found you. And they've raised a good, honest, kind man. That counts for something."

"They were good parents," Brand-Shei agreed. "That's enough for me. I'm a simple man. I won't think too hard about it."

Miranja wanted to hold his face in her hands and kiss him, but a couple other residents had come up to prepare for bed, so she kept her affection in check and just gripped his shoulders instead. "My friend, I hate to run off on you, but Faendal and I haven't eaten since midday, and we've had an hour or two of sleep in the last day and a half. We're going to get some supper ourselves, then rent a room and get some rest. I hope you have a pleasant evening, sweetheart."

Brand-Shei smiled sheepishly; he was unaccustomed to anyone using endearments with him. The closest he'd had to that was his fellow Dunmer at the bunkhouse calling him f'lah, but it wasn't quite the same.

"I wish you the same. Azura's wisdom to you, friend."

At supper at the Bee and Barb, Miranja asked Faendal if he'd noticed that Valindor was trying to flirt with him.

"He was? No, I hadn't noticed. He just seemed like a friendly sort to me, very gregarious. I enjoyed talking with him. It was nice to share memories of home."

"Any chance you might flirt back next time you talk?"

"Uh, no. I like him, but I'm not attracted to men in that way."

"Well, darn. I can totally picture you guys kissing in my mind."

Faendal shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You're incorrigible," he told her with a wry smile.

"I am what I am," she replied pertly. Her eyes shifted to the next table, where Bolli sat in what appeared to be an intimate conversation with Haelga, the bitchy owner of the bunkhouse. When she spoke again, it was nearly a whisper, for Faendal's ears only.

"Now, speaking of same-sex attraction… that lady over there… she comes across as kind of a bitch, and I know she's sitting with a married man she's at least rumored to have slept with, but I see that Amulet of Dibella and I just know she's got to be just as open to women." Speaking of Bolli being a married man, she wondered where his wife Nivenor was while he was spending his evening at the inn with Haelga.

"So what's your point?"

"My point is that in spite of her attitude, I find her intriguing and I want to get to know her better. We're sisters in Dibella. I'd love to share and compare sexual techniques with her, and I don't just mean in words."

Faendal's eyes sparkled and he smiled wickedly. "If you do, can I watch?"

Miranja grinned. "I'd certainly have no problem with it, but since I don't know her – yet – I can't speak for her. You sure you wouldn't want to jump into the mix, Faendal?" She gave him a crafty smile and a wink.

"Well, you know I have a fondness for brunettes, but I'd be willing to try a blonde. She's certainly pretty enough."

As they spoke, Haelga and Bolli got up from the table and headed for the door. Miranja continued to keep her voice down. "You know, I talked to her niece on one of my visits here. The girl seems nice enough but she's pretty strait-laced. She complained about Haelga being a 'wretched' woman, and she actually told me that Haelga slept with three men in one month, like it was the most scandalous thing in the world. She'd probably hate me if she knew that I slept with three men in less than a week. Personally, I'm all for getting and giving as much pleasure as possible. Life is short. Enjoy the good times while they last."

"I agree," Faendal replied.

"We're going to have a busy day tomorrow, finding this Cragslane Cavern and dealing with whatever riffraff we find in there, but I promise you I'm going to talk to Haelga when we get back to town. She seems like a bit of a challenge, but I have to at least try to interest her in some play time.

"But right now, I can feel my energy fading fast. I think it's about time to get washed up and maybe have some play time of our own before I fade out completely. What do you say?"

"I'm right there with you, beautiful."