Chapter Summary: Miranja helps Erik become a man, in more ways than one.
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It was after midnight when Miranja stole back to the Silver-Blood Inn. Ondolemar had allowed her to bathe in his quarters before leaving, so at least she didn't have to worry about not waking Erik when she returned to their shared room. This liaison with Ondolemar had been much different than the first one. The memory of him having her in a way that no one else as yet had still made her nethers throb, even though she had been well sated. She hoped that she would have more opportunities to meet with him on future visits to Markarth.
The weariness from the eventful and stressful day had seeped in by the time she reached the inn. Erik was already asleep, as she had hoped, but not on the bed, as she had expected. Bless his chivalrous young heart; he had made his bed on the floor and spread her bedroll on the stone bed in anticipation of her return. A single candle flickered steadily and turned his tousled hair to gold as she smiled affectionately down on him. He snored quietly, and she had to resist the urge to stroke his braid between her fingers. She stepped over him carefully and stripped down to her smalls once she was on the bed, rolling up her dress to use as a second pillow.
Erik woke her in the morning – or, more precisely, the clanking of his armor as he donned it woke her. Being in a stone building with no windows and only lanterns and candles for light, she wasn't even entirely sure it was morning. But then she heard Kleppr and Frabbi bickering in the tap room and knew that it must be at least dawn.
"Morning, Miss Miranja!" Erik said with far too much cheerfulness. "What are we going to do today?"
Miranja scrubbed at her eyes and yawned, then blinked at him blearily. "First order of business is tea and breakfast. After that, well, we'll just play it by ear. I intended to see the Jarl yesterday, but some things happened. So, we'll definitely be doing that. Maybe he'll have some bounty work for us to do."
"You seemed a little off last night, if you don't mind my saying so. Are you feeling better this morning?"
"Other than tired, yes, I think so. I hope you weren't too bored last night."
She was rewarded, as anticipated, with a blush and a smile. "I had a pleasant evening. The innkeeper's daughter took me for a walk around town and showed me the sights."
"The sights, eh?" Miranja teased, getting out of bed and showing Erik a sight of her own. She dug her spare under-armor clothes from her pack and started dressing, not entirely oblivious to Erik's deeper blush and his suddenly finding something to interest him on the other side of the room.
"Yes, there's both a stream and a river running through town, and the waterfalls are really amazing. Hroki says there are even Orcs living in Markarth, some in the Jarl's palace, even! But she says there are Thalmor at the Jarl's palace, too. I can't believe the Jarl allows that."
Although Erik's back was turned to her, Miranja could hear the displeasure in his voice. "I don't think the Jarl really gets a choice in the matter, Erik. Skyrim is walking a thin line with the Aldmeri Dominion, and most of us are trying to keep Skyrim out of another Great War. We don't like the Thalmor presence, but we don't want to upset the apple cart. From the stories I've heard, there have already been enough lives lost."
"Maybe you're right," Erik grumbled. Miranja was donning her Elven armor and he turned around now to help her latch her cuirass.
They took their packs with them to the taproom and had a warm, hearty breakfast. Miranja let Erik go where he would, seeing the same places he had last night, only awake and alive now during daylight hours. He sampled sweets, ogled jewelry, watched a street artist paint a portrait of a wealthy married couple from High Rock. Eventually, they made it to Understone Keep, and Miranja was stunned when her path coincided with Ondolemar's and he greeted her in an openly friendly manner, even with his soldiers in tow.
"Miranja! What a lovely surprise to see you here again so soon. There are so few pleasures in life as fine as your company," he smiled, taking her hand and kissing it.
She glanced around in confusion and self-consciousness, and caught Erik's expression of mixed indignation and disgust, but couldn't respond to him yet.
"Um, thank you, Commander," she murmured, trying to keep the question out of her voice. She prayed inwardly that he wouldn't elaborate and mention in front of Erik what she had done to earn his favor. "It's pleasant seeing you, as well, but I'm here to see the Jarl, as my intended visit was… postponed yesterday."
"Of course, my Imperial friend," Ondolemar said, releasing the hand he still held. "I'll let you go about your business. Thank you again for your assistance yesterday."
Damn it. "You're welcome. See you next time." She could feel Erik looking at her, though whether it was real or her imagination remained to be seen. She moved on toward the throne room and didn't look back, but she could hear Erik's armor as he followed her.
She'd seen the handsome Jarl Igmund the day she'd completed her mission for Lady Mara and brought the poem to Faleen, but she'd been too preoccupied with watching the lovers being united to speak to him then. In retrospect, she felt that must have seemed rude, ignoring the Jarl on her first visit to the Keep. She hoped he didn't remember her, or at least that he was a forgiving type if he did remember.
Igmund did remember her, but said nothing about her perceived rudeness on the last visit. Faleen, of course, remembered her, and she smiled and flashed a lovely necklace at Miranja. Miranja smiled back in that conspiratorial way of females, having a quick, private conversation with just a glance.
Igmund saw her only as a sellsword, and for all intents and purposes, she was, whether she saw herself as such or not. He was distrustful of her, but his situation with the Forsworn had made him somewhat desperate, so he was willing to give her a trial to prove herself. He wanted the leader of Broken Tower Redoubt dead. Miranja tried to appear confident when she accepted his mission, but she was still terrified of Forsworn, and she hadn't forgotten that she and Erik had left that Briar-Heart alive in Kolskeggr Mine.
"It will be done," she told him somberly, meeting his gaze.
"We'll see," he replied. His indifference made her more determined to earn his favor. She gave him a respectful bow, then turned and strode away with more confidence than she felt. Erik followed, mimicking her, but the excitement radiated from him like electricity. She was glad the prospect of a challenge had made him forget about the exchange with Ondolemar.
Out of earshot of the throne room, he asked, "Do you think we'll be able to do it? We had some practice on the way here."
"I don't know, Erik. We couldn't kill the Briar-Heart, and I guarantee you the leader at Broken Tower is also a Briar-Heart. I'll be honest: I'm pretty scared."
"Don't worry, Miss Miranja. You have me with you. I'm ready for anything. And I want to prove myself by taking out this Briar-Heart. Maybe then we can even go back to the mine and defeat the other one, too."
"Well, my dear," Miranja replied, pushing open the big front doors and blinking momentarily in the brilliant sunlight, "I think our first order of business is to get you some better armor. Let's go see Ghorza."
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An hour after sunset, Miranja and Erik – in his formidable new dwarven armor – killed the Briar-Heart at Broken Tower Redoubt, surviving by the skin of their teeth. They'd had to take turns distracting him so that the other could have a quick breather and regroup for another attack, but they managed it as a team. Miranja was exhausted by then, and collapsed to the floor right where she was, struggling to get her pack off her back so she could retrieve the stamina potions she'd bought at The Hag's Cure.
Erik was nearly as tired, but he put on a good show and staggered over to help her. He handed the pack to her and sat down next to her, purposefully slow, so as not to appear to be collapsing himself. Some of his hair was singed from the sparks spell the Briar-Heart had used, and some of it still stood out around his head like a halo. He had a burnt patch of skin on his forehead. He accepted the potion Miranja held out for him, and they clinked their little bottles together in a tired, silent toast, then choked the sour liquid down. Both of them felt their energy returning almost immediately, and Miranja did a quick healing spell on herself before reaching out to heal Erik.
"You saved my life," Miranja told him, looking him earnestly in the eye.
"You saved mine," Erik countered, humbly. Once again, his overzealous confidence had been knocked down a couple of pegs. He was quickly learning not to underestimate his enemies.
"A draw, then," Miranja conceded. "You have well earned a reward. Split the gold 50/50?"
Erik didn't answer right away and Miranja fixed him with a questioning look. His face seemed to turn a little redder than it was, but it could have been a trick of the candlelight coming from the weird, desecrated altar to Dibella. "Is there something wrong, Erik?"
"No," he replied sheepishly. "I'd be happy to let you have 60 percent of the gold if you'd… well, do you think I could… give you a kiss?"
This boy… Miranja was only partly surprised by his request. He did have that adoring puppy dog aura about him. She stared at him wide-eyed, lips slightly parted, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "What about Hroki?" tumbled out of her mouth.
"What about her?" Erik asked, seeming a bit confused.
"I don't know, I guess I thought maybe you two…" Miranja fumbled.
"We just went for a walk," Erik stated. But he didn't sound firm enough, and Miranja lifted an eyebrow at him. "And she kissed me," he admitted. "But only once, and nothing else happened."
"You don't have to defend your actions to me," Miranja said gently. "I'm not your mo–" She abruptly shut her mouth, remembering that Erik had lost his mother as a child. But he didn't seem to be upset by what she'd almost said.
"I know you're not, and for that I'm glad, because I feel things about you that a son would never feel toward his mother."
"What do you mean by that? Physically or emotionally?"
"Well, I do respect you a lot, Miss Miranja. You're strong and brave and kind. But I'm smart enough to know that we don't know each other well enough for me to say I'm in love with you or anything like that. But I do feel a powerful urge to kiss you and… maybe more, if… if you'd want to…" His face was definitely red now, but to his credit, he didn't look away from her.
"Well, I think this fine young warrior has definitely taken another step toward full-fledged manhood. Not every man can say he took on a Forsworn Briar-Heart and won. You have every right to be proud of that, even if we had to help each other."
Erik swelled with pride at her praise.
"I'm making an assumption based on your words and your body language, Erik, so forgive me if I'm wrong, but – have you ever been with a woman? I-in that way?"
"No, ma'am," he replied, casting his eyes down for only a moment. "I guess I can understand if you don't want to bother with a man with no experience."
"I didn't say that," Miranja said, reaching over and stroking his cheek. "If you're asking what I think you're asking, I'd be happy to help you take that next step toward manhood." The sudden spark in Erik's eyes confirmed her suspicions, and she smiled at him. "But I think we need to find some soap and water and wash the sweat and stink off first. In the meantime, here." She leaned in and pressed her lips gently to his for a long moment. It was almost like the first time she'd kissed a boy back in school; he seemed too surprised and stunned to even think to touch her. He sat very still and awkwardly tried puckering his lips a bit, and Miranja had to suppress a smile to keep him from feeling her amusement. But he was just so adorable.
They got up and explored the rest of the floor they were on, finding a bedroom with a double bed that would be perfect for spending the night. There was nothing but a couple of bottles of mead and wine in the room, so they retraced their way through the fortress. There were no wash basins to be found, but they did find a few ewers of water and a couple of large bowls, so they were able to have a satisfactory bath. They had left their other sets of under-armor clothes and Miranja's regular clothes with the laundry in Markarth in anticipation of their return, so they had to find places to hang their current sets to dry out. Miranja was less than thrilled about having to rewear them, but she'd had to do it before, and she was thankful that she carried more than one spare set of smallclothes. However, she didn't put them on in light of their plans for the night.
Miranja spread her bedroll out fully across the bed, then she and Erik got into the bed and spread Erik's bedroll over themselves. She could feel Erik's anxiousness.
"Don't be nervous, darlin'," Miranja smiled, turning on her side to face him. "I'm not going to judge you. How about you just hold me for a little while, and enjoy just being skin-to-skin?"
Erik agreed, and she lifted herself for a moment so he could slip his arm beneath her head. He encircled her shoulders the best he could with that arm as she snuggled close and wriggled a bit to rub her nipples against his hairy chest. She used her top hand to stroke him: his face, neck, shoulder, muscular arm, firm chest. He tentatively mimicked her, and as he finally ventured to touch her breast, she reached up to his face and gently pulled him toward her for a kiss. She kissed him again and again, and as her kisses grew bolder, so did his touches. He squeezed her breast, pinched her nipple gently, ran his work-roughened hand down her side to her the swell of her hip, grabbed a handful of her buttock and pulled her against his engorged member. His breathing had grown harsh, and he was moaning quietly.
"Do you want me to get on top of you?" she asked in a sultry murmur.
He nodded in response and dove in for another kiss. Miranja kept the kiss going as well as she could as they shuffled positions. Erik lifted the covers so they would stay in place, and let them down as she settled astride him. Her own moans joined his as they ground against each other. She was almost as excited as he was, thinking about the idea of being his first lover.
"Let me touch you," Erik begged in a near-whisper.
Miranja lifted up to give him access and slowly stroked him while he explored and satisfied his curiosity. She groaned and tightened her grip on him when he found her entrance and slipped inside.
"I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked with concern.
"Not at all, love. It feels wonderful."
"I'm ready," he told her, withdrawing his hand, "but I don't know how long I'll last."
"It's okay," she assured him. "We have time. If not tonight, another night. This is more for you than for me, sweetheart. You go ahead and have your pleasure."
He held himself in place and she took him in slowly. He asked her to wait a moment once he was fully inside her, and she could feel him trembling. He took her by the hips and nodded his okay to continue, but he only lasted a few strokes. He pawed at her and pulled her down to his chest, holding her in his muscular arms as he squirmed and moaned, kissing her hair and face.
"Thank you," he whispered, "thank you. Thank you for letting me touch you and make love with you."
"It's my pleasure," she told him. She lifted her head to look at him, brushed his sweaty hair back from his forehead, and kissed him tenderly. "Thank you for letting me be your first lover."
"I know there are other things that people do, but I'm already starting to feel tired. What can I do for you, Miss Miranja?"
"Not a thing, love. As I said, there will be time. I'm pretty tired, too. Let's just get some rest and head back to Markarth in the morning."
She slipped off of him, and as she settled next to him, he snuggled against her side, laying his head upon her breast. Heart swelling with affection, she tucked his bedroll around their shoulders and stroked his hair until they both fell asleep.