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Skyrim: Plaything	By : GE_The_Beast Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 21445 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is made for fun, profit and entertainment. In no way do I own anything discussed. I do not own Skyrim or The Elder Scrolls fandom in any way, nor do I intend any profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 42
- 43
Chapter 43: All Seasons Must End

“Lady Elayne!” She looked up from the blacksmith’s bench, where she had been talking to their newest member of the community. A Nord named Gunmar, whose ancestors apparently laid down some of Labyrinthian. Stepping forwards, her heels clicked on the new cobblestone. The stones were dark, almost black. Dragonfire could do some pretty amazing things for making roads and fixing cobble. “Lady Elayne, there has been a messenger!”
“I’ll meet them at the gate!” She called, picking up the pace. Not that she needed to hurry, mind. The only major thing happening today was the raising of the new longhouse. It would be the first of a new design of house, come up with by Isran of all people. Who knew that he was such a good engineer? Anyways, it would be interesting. With Alduin and other dragons agreeing to learn the way of the voice, they needed a way to avoid having them fall asleep on top of buildings and damage them. Odahving had fallen asleep above the tavern, and with one particularly bad snort collapsed the part of the building holding the larder.
Bretons and Nords could not forgive such a travesty, and Odahving lived up to his namesake and hunted to make up for it. So, this new building was Isran’s answer to the problem. Namely, that the old word walls were the right idea. But instead of having them on mountains, the dragons could now roost inside the town! The building would incorporate the design in front. Alduin had fallen asleep in the main road more than once, the big lug unable to see that he was blocking the road.
Her attention was taken up by a grumpy looking wagon driver. “I was told you needed this desperately.” He grumbled. “I’ve got a full load of nails to bring to Riften. Unless you’ve got anything else to demand of me?” She didn’t recognize the Breton.
She took the slim jewelry chest that had been sent, and took a peek inside. A mad giggle escaped from her lips, as her one hand balanced the slim box. It was a set of bracelets and anklets in a familiar style. Moonstone and quicksilver gleamed, the full set of restraints looking pristine. “Ha-ha!” She cried decisively. “Elodie’s back from Alinor!” And she delivered. “Thank you, that will be all! Thank you so much!” The building was forgotten. She could take a look at it when she was done. Her feet skipped, she was moving so fast. She almost ran over Delphine, as the woman was trying to teach a few young boys how to swing a sword properly. “Sorry!” She yelped, slipping through their formation with an apologetic cackle.
Her feet carried her to the old execution square. Now turned into a small garden, with butterflies and moths flitting around the trees. Alduin liked them. This was his favorite place to rest or hide from the children of the Forsworn. They declared it their civic duty to show Alduin what they considered a good time. That mostly consisted of annoying the demigod. But he put up with it, somehow. Conveniently, this was also the only place that the old fort was still accessible from. Balancing her ill gotten loot in her right elbow, her left hand wiggled the old door open. A candlelight spell drifted along behind her as she moved through the old place. Where it all began for her.
Hardly anyone had been down here since they began rebuilding Helgen into the town it was now. Buildings and tents sprawled all along the roads leading up to it, and the old city itself was being remade. But her goal was deep into the keep. To a room full of rusty cages and cell doors. Torches were lit with a few snaps of her fingers, and the sconces were filled. Today she had chosen a light and airy dress. It had a deep V, but on her that barely meant anything. The only way someone could find her breasts was because of the chain between her nipples proving that she still had one.
She could afford to pay Elodie for that, but it would be better to spend that money elsewhere. At least that was what she told herself every time Serana walked by wearing anything. Or Babette. Shaking her head, she sat on the wooden counter that led to the head torturer’s chamber. “Alright Talos. I know you can hear me.” As she spoke, she reached into the small box and retrieved the Queen’s restraints she had ordered. Or rather, the duplicates that were not enchanted in any way shape or form. Every single one clicked into place and she shivered. Even after everything that happened between her and the world of Shashev Helseth she could feel that tingle. That her interest in these things had not wavered. By the gods she liked the feeling of something restraining her. Getting the bracelet around her one remaining wrist required the use of her teeth. And when it came off it would take someone else’s help. But she had planned for that, hopefully.
Speaking of which! Elayne tapped her artifact heels together four times. “Talos? I’m about to do something incredibly aggravating. Is there any way that you could prevent the consequences that are clearly going to happen? I mean, what I am doing is going to piss off the daedra. I’m going to break the boundary of Oblivion, and then I want you to hold back the rest.”
Whether he heard or not, Elayne stripped down to nothing. Nothing but piercings, heels, a fake set of the queen’s restraints and the Amulet of Mara around her neck. Then she lined up with one of the old rusty dungeon doors. No one had the keys to it anymore, and it hadn’t been opened since Alduin sacked this place. Perfect. She closed her eyes, and thought back to the point so long ago when she had read the Elder Scroll. How that felt, and the meanings intrinsic within it. “Focus on the place you want. This is more than Conjuration.” This was magic that she barely understood. But the Elder Scroll she read gave her the words. Taking from her bag, she grabbed the last of her artifacts. All of the other daedric pieces she gave up.
Serana had demanded the bow of Auriel, and hidden it somewhere. Elayne didn’t care overly much. Harkon was sealed in Oblivion, and that was the only thing that she saw the need for such an artifact. History was full of examples of why it was a terrible idea to try to hold onto them. And the bards shared that she had given away or lost all daedric artifacts since then. No, this artifact was Dwemer. The dagger had a blue crystal all throughout it, and she could barely hold it without terrible pain. She didn’t know why and didn’t care. Shashev’s notes had been reason enough to use it. Sucking in a breath, she focused on the floor of the cell. That was where this conjuration would take place.
“Rel.” The first word rattled the entire chamber, dust coming loose in thick clouds. “Gaar!” The second word had been all she had ever shouted before, but now she had the answer. The original shout that Miraak had invented involved him being invoked as the greatest of conquerors. But that was a terrible idea. More of Hermaeus Mora’s meddling, probably. So she changed its meaning for her intention. In her only hand, Keening pulsed uncomfortably. It would begin to sear her hand if she didn’t finish now. “Ahmul!” The word for Husband was what she finished the shout with. There was a crackling as some of her torches were guttered by the collapsing dust, and somewhere in the keep rocks fell and something collapsed.
She could see a humanoid figure beginning to come into Tamriel, wearing Dragon priest robes. Before the effect could finish, she swung her artifact. “Mir-Aak-Stin!” Miraak goes free. That was all she thought about, as her nose began bleeding and the skin of her palm burned. But Keening understood. It made a sound like a thousand chimes, as it stabbed in between the physical and spiritual realms. The last torch remained on the floor between them, the others she brought completely put out.
Everything was silent for a moment, as Miraak looked up. It had to be him. No one else would wear that Dragon Priest mask. Each one was unique. “What have you done?” He asked, hoarsely.
Hissing, she dropping Keening into the dirt. With her dress she quickly shoved it back into her bag, and stood before Miraak in just her skin. “That’s not what you usually say.” She throws back at him. “Aren’t you going to complain?”
“I don’t think I have the heart to complain, not now.” The man said clearly. “Apocrypha adds books to its wealth every day. Some of them talked about your defeat of Alduin.” He folded his arms. “You did it in my name!”
“I don’t know what books you’ve been reading, but if I did it in your name I would have summoned you like an atronach to witness such a victory.”
He seemed to finally notice that she was naked. “What have you done this time?”
“I have done what you have always dreamed of, but with far more grace.” He scoffed at that, good naturedly. “Akatosh also didn’t forget you.”
“He’s an Aedra. I listened to his enemy, and I paid the price.” Miraak stared her down. “Last time we spoke, you promised that we would resolve who was the conqueror.”
“In modern language, that just means you like being on top.” She japed. She really wanted to talk to him about how she just snapped him from Hermaeus Mora. Forever. But really, when you could flirt and tease him instead? Who could resist? “I remember.”
“You think that by defeating Alduin you have proven superior to me?” He challenged, grinning. One of his hands tested the door, frowning to see it locked. “What is this prison?”
“Consider it my way of giving you a headstart. I summoned you to resolve that question. To see which of us was the conqueror. And because you keep thinking a blowjob is a defeat. I personally think it’s cute. I’m going to start running. If you can’t catch me before the sun is down, you belong to me. Forever.” A little white lie never hurt anyone. She hefted her bag, grinning as he tried to open the completely rusted doors. “Oh, and Miraak?”
“What now? More insults?”
“I used Tonal Magic and Chim to sever your connection to Hermaeus Mora.” She grinned, starting to run through the old familiar fortress. “Find me, if you aren’t a coward!” Her heels sounded out on the stone, as she cheated on any available surface or gap and used their magic to float over anything difficult.
To be fair, it only took Miraak a few seconds to muster his courage. His cell door went flying, shattering as it was rent from the stone walls. “Elayne!” He roared, beginning his chase. “I demand answers!” Through the caves and past a few spiders she ran, hearing them run into Miraak with a vengeance. The pack of wolves by the back entrance spooked and ran off, even as she could hear Miraak abusing dragonshouts to chase her down. The sun was high in the sky, and she was starting to sweat.
Where to go, where to go! She would have stayed in the fort, but a few more shouts and it would really collapse. In the distance there was a few Queensworn camps, all around Lake Ilinata. The lake! It shimmered like a jewel, and the height of summer left her regretting sprinting in the heat. But that was a good place. Laughing, she started running through the trees. Her long blue hair flared behind her, and her jewelry slapped against her skin as she threw herself down the dirt paths. Even after she had gotten the Queen’s restraints off, her hair had remained that electric blue. Somehow, it didn’t matter to her. A sign of being touched by Oblivion never bothered her.
A wolf went flying by her, the creature another victim of Miraak. He was taller than her, and was making up ground quickly. Cackling, she came around a tree and almost ran through one of the Queensworn camps. All of them were out tanning a bear hide, and a score of Reachfolk looked up to see Elayne, naked as the day. “Lady Elayne?” One of the women started asking.
“Sorry! Can’t talk right now!” She spoke loudly, making for the shore. “Don’t stop him!”
“Stop who? Lady Elayne?”
Someone used the Whirlwind sprint shout, and Elayne had to run for a different part of the shore as Miraak skipped past her into a thicket. “Thorns will not stop me! I will catch you!”
“You’ve got treated robes! I’m a bit more tender to risk those!” The bank was inches away, and Miraak was catching up! Now it was her turn to use the Whirlwind Sprint shout. And of course, cheat with her heels. She arrived on top of the lake, her heels keeping her from sinking. There was one of the lake’s islands just a few dozen feet away, and she looked back and gave Miraak a wiggle of her eyebrows.
He took the bait, following her with his own shout. She laughed as he hit the water, sputtering. Heels glowing, she made it the rest of the way to the island, as the First Dragonborn had to swim the rest of the way. Sputtering and catching his breath, they both arrived on the small island. An old dock was here, with grooves for where someone had dragged a boat up the bank. A cookfire pit was in place, and there was plenty of tree stumps and even an old chest. The shade was perfect, as Elayne took shelter from the hot summer sun.
“You have boots of levitation!” Miraak growled, his robes sloughing water as he stomped onto the island. “Clever.” He stood above her, his chin jutting out as he tried to stare her down. “But the more I read about you, the less I can predict.”
“You read about me?” She challenged his glare, standing right in front of him.
“Every single line and note about you. Everything Apocrypha could give me.” Miraak whispered. His voice had never had this tone before. “It felt like those first years I had been sealed there. Where I almost went mad looking for answers. But instead, it was just about you!” He sneezed, then. “What?!” He mumbled, in surprise. As if he didn’t know his body could do such a thing.
“You’re as mortal as I am, now.” Elayne reached out, lifting his chin with her one remaining hand. Keeping his eyes on her. “I took you from Hermaeus Mora. He doesn’t own you anymore. You’re free.” She giggled. It felt good to steal from the Daedric Prince. “At least until sundown.”
“Why me?” Miraak spoke, honestly. Perhaps for the first time since she had met him giving her his complete respect. “Why do you care?”
“I saw what the world was like when someone didn’t care. When that world gave up on their dragonborn. Someone else was spun into existence to force a change. Akatosh can see with a clarity that the Daedra never can. Even if he is mostly limited to acting through us Mortals.” Elayne grabbed his robes, pulling the filthy things off of him. “Now, you’ll have to strip down. Or else you might catch a cold.”
After a moment, the man seemed eager to do so. Garments he had worn since the Merethic era fell off of his body, and his archaic boots were kicked off. Nothing was left to hide, and the Atmoran clearly knew he was good looking. Or at least, to her eyes he was. Only the dragon priest mask remained upon his face. With trepidation, he grabbed it and set it down as well. “I wish to see you, all of you.” The man who had been staring at her bare ass for most of a half hour was asking to see her face.
Miraak was a rippled strong Nord. Not overly so, and certainly not lacking in fat. He looked like a man would. There was muscle, but there was fat pockets too. A healthy amount of paunch to his gut, and sallow to his cheeks. Braided blonde hair ran from his head, almost to his neck. It seemed cleaner than the rest of him. But his face was a deep surprise. The eyebrows were thick, and very prominent. Miraak was one of those men who had a resting bitch face that could scare children. A proper dragon priest overlord, for certain. But Elayne felt like it could be contemplative, or quizzical in expressions. It was his eyes that were the true sign of Oblivion upon him. They were almost black, the eyes a reflection of Hermaeus Mora’s. “The fact that you look beyond my breasts is impressive.”
“Elayne of Wayrest, in no book on Mundus or Apocrypha does anyone describe your breasts. But I wish to see your face, and do it justice.” His eyes were focused, and his jaw set. “I demand to know.” He faltered, considering his words. Changing his mind. “I beg of you to fulfill my request. So that my waking dream may no longer be empty.”
She bit her lip. “You dream to know my face?”
“I do.” If she hadn’t just ran through a forest stark naked, those words alone would do her justice. Shivering, she brought her hands up to her face. The mask had been her identity for so long. It felt safe to wear it. And once the Queen’s restraints had come off, the cursed makeup was also gone. She no longer looked like a whore of Wayrest, but after so long she had become used to hiding her face. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the straps and let Morokei fall to the dirt. Miraak looked like he had seen a vision. His brow relaxed, and his cheekbones shifted. The man smiled, perhaps for the first time in a thousand years. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t say that!” She shivered. “There are far prettier-”
“Not to me.” He interrupted. “I’ve waited a thousand years for my freedom, and it has your face. I was raised under the claws of the Dovah, not the pride of men.” He stared at her mouth, as if he were memorizing every detail of it. “I can never repay you.” He gasped, finally looking away.
“Miraak.” The name felt light on her tongue, as she glanced out across the lake. Queensworn were gathered on the shore, looking out at her. Young and old were staring at the unabashed naked pair in the distance. “There is a way you can repay me.”
“How?” He stared at her, his eyes intense. “You have defeated Alduin! Blinded time itself and touched the void to save the world!” He planted his hips, flexing his arms and stared her down as if they were still trying to intimidate one another. But maybe that was the only way he knew how to act. “Beyond all of that, you snatch me from Oblivion! What can I give you that Chim or all your accomplishments cannot?!”
He seemed frozen when she grabbed those pretty blonde braids of his and kissed him. It felt like lightning passed between their lips. Going from her mouth to her toes, and then back up to her neck the feeling rushed through her. His arms reached across to her, grabbing at her and holding her by the arms. He was returning the kiss earnestly, and only when they were both light headed could she take a breath and consider that it may have been minutes since she last had a coherent thought. “I need,” She spoke softly, flexing her leg muscles. They had been standing for too long. “To sit down and talk to you.”
An old loamy stump suited their needs, the shade from the trees not dispelling the sweat on both of their skins. “I am an excellent speaker.” Miraak smirked, licking his lips. “Nor did I expect you to have freed yourself!” In one of his hands was a part of the fake queen’s restraints.
“I thought you might like to see me in a more familiar appearance.” Elayne laughed, using her one good hand to get off the moonstone and quicksilver pieces. Miraak reached out, and cradled the stump of her right arm. He was gentle as he appraised it.
“Talos lost his voice to the elf that challenged him. You seem to have only lost your hand.” He said, turning it over in his hands like it was a jewel. “Sanguine traded a mortal for the remains of your hand.”
“I do not want it back.” Elayne responded, closing her eyes at the thought of Sanguine with her hand. “What I want is someone to be there for me. For as long as I live.”
“That could never pay back-” She shushed him by grabbing his very unattended prick. It certainly got his attention.
“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. I’m apparently immortal now. I have agreed to spend the rest of my life teaching Alduin how to build and create. Something he is clearly not good at yet. I fear that I’ll become like one of the Tribunal or something and lose all hope of joy and life if I have to watch everyone I know grow old and die around me. To watch as the eras change and all who know my name whisper it as if it is just a legend. A myth that fades even then.” Miraak stared at her, his brow furrowing and his hands clenching. That had been his fate. The world had forgotten him, even though he had played a major part in its history. “I cannot be what Akatosh wants me to be unless I have something to live for. Even if it is selfish.”
As she spoke, Miraak gently removed the rest of the restraints. Until he got to the amulet of Mara. It seemed to hit him all at once. “Oh!” The man whispered. As if realizing that the sun in the sky was actually part of a God.
“Is that all you have to say?” She demanded, shoving him with her hand. “Oh?”
“I am a dovah, not some mortal to accept!” Miraak started yelling, even as Elayne folded her arms. “I cannot be some pawn of the Aedra to accept such a practice!”
“And you admit that you owe me?”
The man frowned, nostrils flaring. “More than I can ever pay for.”
“Then ask me.” She fluttered her eyes at him, making him scoff.
“You free me and lead me here, and you still want me to ask?”
“You’re the man here. If you don’t have the balls to submit yourself to a mortal tradition, I can always send you back to Oblivion.”
“You demand this?” He asked, serious.
“I will not be denied!” Oh, the dragon within her loved challenging him. Loved it.
Miraak stood up, looking at the banks of the lake with scores of perturbed Bretons watching them. He didn’t even seem troubled by the fact that they could see every inch of him. He faced her, giving her a long look. “Are you certain you demand this of me?” He asked, one more time.
“It is the first of many things I expect to demand from you.” She swore the corner of his lips turned upwards at that.
Miraak drew in breath, and growled out the words. “Ysmir Dovahkiin! Elayne of Wayrest?” He was speaking in Dovahzul, the language rolling across the lake. Everyone could hear him, probably up to High Hrothgar. “Do this warlord’s soul the honor of sharing your life with him!” The noise echoed, and the branches around her rattled as acorns fell from their loose perches. Her heart fluttered, just hearing him admit it! He was willing to compromise! By Oblivion he was willing to declare it.
“Do you love me, Miraak?” She responded. Being cheeky, of course. It wasn’t a yes or a no, and the Nord’s mouth turned down
“I have sought all there is to know about you.” He answered. “I cannot help but want to know all you wish to share with me. To see you conquer all you see before you.” His features softened. “Even if it is the smallest of victories.” His hands took both of her wrists gently. “I cannot claim that I know of your love. Not after so long a prisoner. But if right now is any indication, I want to learn what that is. To feel this free.” He wasn’t exactly arrogant about saying it, but his shoulders were set. He probably didn’t know how to be happy or content. “I will fight for it. You know I will!”
“This isn’t the kind of freedom that you have to conquer.” Elayne said coyly. “Akatosh wanted all of his children back. That wasn’t just Alduin, but you too.” Her teeth peeked out as she grinned, not able to keep her feelings in. “I risked my life reading that Elder Scroll.”
“I never attempted to read the collection that Hermaeus Mora took from the White-Gold Tower during the Oblivion Crisis.” Miraak replied softly. “I didn’t want to go blind. Now, I asked you. I demand an answer!”
Miraak clearly hadn’t had very many chances to be a gentleman over the last thousand years. So she could forgive him a bit of impatience on his first try. In the distance there was a couple of dragons taking flight, taking interest in all the shouting. “Mul Qah Diiv!” The shocked look on his face was enough to make her grin, as the aspect of dragonkind settled over her bare skin. “I’m going to show you my answer! Welcome to the new world, Miraak.” She leapt on top of him, before he could call out his own shout and gain power for himself. It felt amazing to knock him onto his back. “Where you’ll never be alone again.” She whispered into his ear.
She felt his rush at those words probably before he did. With her height difference, she could feel the heat pulsing against the inside of her thigh. “What do the joor call it?” He asked, back. “Husband and wife?” Earnestly.
“With how much of an adventurer and alchemist I am? And holding positions in the High King’s court and the princess of Falkreath’s circle?” She rotated her hips slowly, feeling him rubbing against her upper thighs. “You would have to be the stay at home husband. The subservient role.”
Miraak growled, a light to his eyes. “I would never accept that! Even if it took me a decade, I would earn a position in those circles!” He didn’t try to move her from on top of him, but his fingers did ghost along her sides. They were callused, and not exactly smooth. “You will not have a warlord that sits upon empty titles beside you!”
“Good!” Elayne lifted her hips, before sliding forwards to kiss Miraak. There was something just electric about him. Every time she pressed herself against him it was like a charge was going from her skin to the deepest parts of her soul. It was unlike any other creature she had ever touched. “Oh, that’s good!”
Miraak hummed, making every part of her happy. “Amongst dovah, there was no such thing as a mortal’s love. It is only the continued domination of one party or another.” His hands moved to her breasts, finally running his hands over them. “The books about you do your beauty no justice.” She would have replied, but he flicked both of her nipples at once. “I have dreamt of you for a year now!” He closed his eyes, just feeling her. “Though it feels like my soul has been craving you since it’s birth.”
“I don’t believe in any kind of prophecy about my love life.” Elayne whispered, feeling his very insistent male organ against her thigh still. “I want to choose that for myself.”
Miraak took his hands off of her, running his fingers along the blue hair. “Then choose. Take what is yours.”
“But we have to go get married in Solitude! And that means a wedding, and a ceremony, and Endarie will have to get me sized for-” Oh that did it. Miraak snapped, grasping her with both hands and lifting her by the hips. Both of them knew she was teasing. But now it was on. She could see his jaw set, as he slowly dragged her onto his dick. It was not the largest she had ever had. Nor the biggest. But it came with an emotional connection. His hands were everywhere, trying to elicit a reaction from her. Almost as if he needed it more than she did.
“I will not lose this time!” He heaved himself off of the loam, using his hands and feet. Elayne felt her eyes lose focus as she caught herself on his chest, her one hand keeping her stable. But the rest of her weight was lifted off of the ground. The only point of contact she had was her hand and her center. Her core, already flooded with a wet heat. Miraak hadn’t needed any kind of help getting inside of her. He was primal. With her entire body’s weight coming down on his hips, the only thing she could do was control her balance. Of course, she could cheat.
A half gasped telekinesis spell grasped his form, lifting him up off the ground. Locking her legs behind his back, she shoved with her magic, sending the Nord into a tree. His back hit the bark, scraping her knees in the process. Her eyes met his, as both of them were breathing faster. Hips rose and fell, as he tried his best to take control of the situation. Miraak was strong, and had been cursed by a thousand years of time in Apocrypha. It wasn’t just his eyes that were affected by the place, but the rest of his body too. He seemed able to bend or push his arms directions they shouldn’t go, experiencing no strain. Even when it felt like she was bending his dick under her, he sprang right back up with eagerness. “You’ve read any Sanguine works?”
Miraak flared his nostrils, grabbing her by the hips. And finally taking control. He untangled her legs and twisted her, leaving her to grab onto the only thing she could. The old stump was the only thing her hand could reach for, her palm holding up her body. Letting her legs dangle, the height difference wasn’t enough! Her toes could scrape the dirt but she had no room to maneuver! And once Miraak had her there, he ground his hips into hers all over again. She was being manhandled, and she loved it. There were no ropes upon her, but she felt as though this was some kind of magic to her soul. Her skin ached, her lungs heaved and her body trembled every time he pulled back. Then fell crashing into overwhelming feeling as he slammed into her again and again.
She bit her tongue, as her feet arched. Gods, she was losing! She couldn’t lose to him! Not now! But she wanted this! She wanted to let him have one over her, to have this as her way of saying yes! Miraak’s hand snaked up her body, finding the chain between her rock hard nipples. Slowly and achingly he pulled it taut, narrowing her entire existence to three points. “Ach!” Her lips lost control first, as she cried out. Then her arm shook, and she couldn’t save herself. She was going to fall onto that stump. But the orgasm rolling over her made the stump seem to be splitting into pairs.
Miraak gave his own yell, dragging her around as he let himself fall to the dirt instead. And the full weight of her coming down upon him was not lost on either of them. His eyes widened, as he lost control. Miraak glared at his body as she felt him explode within her, the poor man having been teased to the end of his wits.
“You’ve been in Oblivion for a thousand years. No one is going to blame you for being excited.” Elayne purred, hips still rolling from the motion. “From what my aunt always tells me, sex gets better the longer you’re with someone.” Miraak’s eyes roved, as Elayne took advantage of his rock hard state. “I’ve got eternity to share that with you!”
Just before she could feel her second climax, a wave of water from the lake washed over both of them. The spell broke its hold on Miraak, and they rolled to a standing position. Both of them had shaking legs, and turned to face whatever had caused it. She was rather shocked to see twenty dragons in the lake, all of them sitting like a flock of ducks vying to see what was going on. Alduin was amongst them, his empty eyes seeing perhaps clearer than all the others.
On the banks of the lake there were a number of Reachfolk watching her, too. Elayne flushed, realizing what they had just been showing to the entire world. “What?!” She let out. “Why are you here?”
“Jud Thuri?” A red dragon spoke from the front. Perhaps the most vocal and outspoken one. “Are you placing Miraak above us?” Odhaving asked what all the others were thinking.
“Odahving?” She asked, her tone icy. Some of the nearer dragons chuffed, already hearing her displeasure. “What happens to dragons that interrupt mating between others?” It was a rhetorical question. It all came down to domination of one sort or another. Behind her, Miraak was scrambling to get his clothes on. The poor man was panicking. “Don’t you dare get your clothes back on! We aren’t done here!”
Alduin was the one that chuffed, his laughter making the lake ripple. “I have won the bet with Paarthurnax.”
“You were betting on this?!” Elayne yelled, the sound carrying loudly.
Miraak clearly wasn’t used to the idea of Alduin being friendly. He looked ready to take cover, even as Elayne stood her ground in front of the flock of dragons floating on the lake. “Elayne, we can’t outrun this many.” Of course he thought this would end in conflict.
“Miraak? We follow the way of the voice, now. It’s not perfect, and it is helping correct the deficiencies in Dovah logic that exist.”
“Our logic is natural!” One of the ancient ones spoke up.
“Your logic was created by Alduin after he spoke to Hermaeus Mora for the first time. It was created under flawed circumstances.” There was much grumbling about that. “I am your Thuri! And if you interrupt my coitus again? Ever again?” She pointed at Odhaving. He would try just to see what would happen. “I will invent a dragon shout that will make you feel as the Joor do. Strip you of the sky and the wind of Kyne beneath your wings.” It sounded possible. But it also stung the part of her that was a dragon to even think about it. “Have I made myself clear?”
Bubbles rose from around Odhaving’s nose. All of the dovah were looking at each other, considering the threat. “Our Thuri is possessive of her mate.” Alduin spoke clearly. “So long as he keeps the way of the voice, we shall hold our tongues.” They were feeling protective of her! Now it was making sense. She supposed she could play along.
The focus of the group turned to Miraak. Elayne gave a snicker. “Well, Miraak? Will you forsake your warlord ways and join your wife? I think you’re old enough to qualify as a Greybeard.”
The Nord’s brows furrowed. In front of dovah, reachfolk and her he spoke. “So mote it be.” He admitted. “Anything for you.” He stood his ground, standing tall to meet the gaze of the assembled dragons. “We need to make some new masks. I no longer follow the cult of Alduin. And you would never have respect for Morokei when he was alive. You deserve to have a new legacy upon your brow.”
The dragons made quite a bit of noise at that. Alduin rose up. “Her mask we created months ago. Odhaving? Give it to her.” The hunter moved forwards, looking proud. The dragon reached for a harness around his waist. “It’s name reflects you. Aazdremvun. Made from silver and mithril. The metals of your homeland.” Mercy-Peace-Tongue. She who brings peace and mercy through the power of her voice. The deeper meaning washed over the group, and everyone closed their eyes as their souls understood what their minds would catch up on later.
Odahving made a squeaking noise in the back of his throat. “Jud Thuri, it is not here!” The dragon puffed up. “The Nord! He took it!”
There was only one Nord that would dare. “The way of the voice punishes thieves all the same. We are allowed to defend ourselves!” She took in a deep breath, letting out a scream of her own. “BRYNJOLF!” The waters of the lake rippled, as her anger carried the noise over the hills. And hopefully to the man who dared rob from a dragon.
“Brynjolf?” Miraak whispered.
“Brynjolf!” Odhaving shrieked first, as the call was taken up by the flock of dragons. “Hunt the Joor! Bring him alive!”
“Sorry Miraak.” She apologized. “It looks like our honeymoon might be delayed.”
The Nord was grinning. “Delayed? No, Elayne. This will be our first journey together. I could not be more overjoyed.”
That was a direct quote from King Emeric’s biographies. “I think you’ve been reading too much High Rock courtly affairs.” Elayne shut her eyes, feeling the warm summer sun. “Come on. Husband.” Miraak looked full of feeling, and only gave a single glance back at his robes and mask. To the life he once led. And then he never looked back.
Neither did she.

Brynjolf managed to hide from the combined hunting party for all of three months. He managed to drag them into a rather nasty mess, allowing Nocturnal to add her own enchantments to the dragon priest mask he managed to pickpocket from Odhaving. Having fulfilled his life’s apparent dream, he returned to lead the thieves guild after the strange disappearance of Mercer Frey. He fathered fourteen children from seven different women, most of whom came after him for one reason or another throughout his lifetime.

Archmage Savos Aren continued to teach and lead the college of Winterhold, until he joined the journey to Akavir. One of the key sponsors, he formed a strong friendship with a dragon named Krosulhah, as the dovah was the first College initiate of his race. He left his position to Mirabelle, and learned Dovahzul enough to be one of the leaders of the expedition to Akavir. He fathered a single son with Mirabelle Ervine.
“Elayne? Excellent student, terrible sense of direction. She always was in the wrong place at the right time. Or so we thought. It brought me no greater sense of gratitude to be proven wrong.”

Galmar Stone-Fist would return to a shattered and broken Windhelm. Most of Eastmarch burned during the fighting with the Dragons, and it was only with the help of the Dunmer that they were able to restore their fields and lands. Volcanic ash from Solstheim was shipped under his direction, and he became the Jarl of Windhelm. Ulfrik Stormcloak was buried with full honors, and the temple of Talos was restored to its full glory under his stewardship. His written account of the Stormcloak Rebellion revealed the role that the Thalmor played in creating it, and in funding the continued conflict.
“The Dragonborn? Brings a smile to my face to think about her. Some of the happiest memories I have with Ulfrik in those final years are when we realized that Alduin was back. She gave my life purpose again. Something to live to accomplish, rather than just fight because that was all we knew how to do.”

Elisef the Fair returned to Solitude and forged a new life for herself. Colovian princes and Dukes from High Rock traveled far to seek her hand in marriage, but she surprised everyone when she chose to marry Saerlund Law-Giver. They met when she brought Torygg’s ashes to a shrine of Talos. Their marriage was tumultuous, loud and willful. But under their leadership Solitude recovered from Harkon’s rampage through their lands.
“I like her! She’s inspiring! Though, I do wish she set a better example for women to follow. Or at least wear a full outfit. The rumors alone…”

General Tulius returned to the Imperial Province with honor and distinction, scarred by his time in Skyrim. When asked to recount what happened during the crisis, the man refused. He would only claim that he almost destroyed their chances before the war could be won. More importantly, he refused to give himself any kind of distinction for what was done. He left no memoirs, and spoke of the Nords in the highest respect for the rest of his life. Mostly.
“I will only say one thing about the Dragonborn. She somehow saw something that everyone else couldn’t. I’ll honor her for that. The rest I’ll leave for the scribes and bards.”

Emperor Titus Mede returned to his Empire with invigoration and aplomb. He made the promise that he would visit Skyrim more often, so that his family could meet and become familiar with the dovah and their overlord. For the rest of his reign, he inspired the Penitus Oculatus to protect and save Talos worshippers across the continent, as the threads binding the White-Gold Concordat withered and frayed. With the death of Amaund Motierre, he had to take a more active role in foreign policy. He was succeeded by his son, and died peacefully before the next war began with the Aldmeri threat.
“Any other hero would have sacrificed during the final battle, and nowhere else. Or pushed the task upon someone else. While I would never call her a champion, I would hesitate to put myself between her and her goals.”

Giraud Germaine eventually learnt Dovahzul, recording songs that had never before been put to paper. His book, The Living Dragon Break, is considered the perennial book upon the whole conflict. By Elayne’s request, he made sure to lean a little on the side of embellishment, and share the glory with all those who deserved it. His second book, Alduin’s Personal History, has seen less popularity. But so far he has been the only one to try to record all that the demi-god has done. He has taken a personal mission to not allow any information to be lost to history. Or at least before he has had a chance to embellish upon it.
“Dragonborn? Dovahkiin? It’s all in the pronunciation! The moment I met her, I knew she was destined for greatness! I never took my eyes off of her for a second!”

The Greybeards expanded as an organization, as new stairs were cut into the throat of the world to allow for those in Helgen to make the ascent as well. They traveled back and forth from High Hrothgar and Helgen, teaching the way of the voice. Arngeir made a special pilgrimage to Windhelm, and was present at the final burial of Ulfrik Stormcloak.
“The dead deserve every ounce of goodwill the living may confer. Kyne would have been proud to know any of those who fought with us. We shall miss those who died very much.”

Delphine led the Blades for the rest of her natural life. She enjoyed the formal recognition that Titus Mede gave for her organization, if only reclassified as the Dragonguard. An old name given new meaning. Though she was not happy with some of the directions the organization went, she led it with dignity and respect. Though she clearly did not enjoy having to share an organization with the remains of the Dark Brotherhood, she chose Gabriella to replace her as head of the Dragonguard upon her passing.
“The future of the Blades cannot be our past. But if the dragons can change, it only proves that mortals can too. I won’t lie, though. Combining with the Dark Brotherhood has opened doors that our enemies will never expect. If only for her sake.”

Kodlak and the Companions found themselves with more work than ever, and no shortage of willing initiates who wanted to join them. Kodlak passed away a few days after the battle with Alduin, having taken more hits from the scion of death than any other surviving combatant. He was buried in Whiterun, and his soul went on to Sovngarde. Skjor replaced him, and the Companions were known as much for Ysgramor as they were for fighting with Elayne against Alduin. Even though Elayne had her own Dragonguard, she always made sure to hire the Companions when she went about Skyrim.
“The stones that Elayne fought upon were later moved to Jorrvaskr, marked to commemorate just how important she is to us. Our shield sister and friend.”

Eola One-Eye discovered that Siddgeir looked good in leather and both of them openly claimed that they worshipped Arkay. In secret, they must have been involved with two different daedric cults, and raised their six children in Falkreath. While she never wrote about what happened with Alduin and her time with Elayne, the stories she shared were embellished and shared in dark corners of every tavern in Colovia and Skyrim. All while disavowing that she had claimed those things. She was a loyal worshipper of Arkay, after all! Though the presence of shrines of Namira in Falkreath grew under her rule. She lived long enough to see great-grandchildren.
“Don’t let that ditsy appearance fool you. Or the clothes. That woman is a devil. She can fight in the streets, argue in the courts, and be a whore in the sheets. I couldn’t ask for a better friend at my side.”

The Dark Brotherhood, bereft their connection to Sithis went into a depressive state. After drinking themselves into the worst hangover in their memory, they begged Elayne for purpose. Only Cicero and Festus died in the fighting, leaving a family in need of direction. Astrid and Delphine somehow managed to consider each other sisters, and joined the newly formed Dragonguard. Gabriella became a strong contender for leadership, while Astrid found new meaning in rearing children. The woman with no past became known as ‘Astrid-nanna’ to all the children of the village, while Arnbjorn never got over the loss of the Night Mother. Babette didn’t mind wearing her new collar, living out her life with a new eagerness.
“After we lost the Night Mother, we realized that we needed a new immortal being to base our family around. Elayne wouldn’t want to compare herself to the Night Mother, but she would probably fight just as hard as they did in the same situation. That’s what she became to us after the dust blew over.”

Serana wandered Tamriel for twenty years, reading as many books as she could find, and many more that didn’t want to be found. She returned over and over, always with new tales and more stories. She spent another twenty learning about the rest of the vampires in Tamriel, publishing a new version of Immortal Blood. But eventually she couldn’t run from her past any more. With the help of many creatures, she returned to Skyrim to help when the Ideal Masters opened a gateway to Tamriel, and had one last battle to resolve her family drama. After that, she settled in with Elayne in Helgen, and was named the Godmother of the court. Some days she can still be caught wearing her signature outfit, as many know her to be as deviant or worse than the Dragonborn.
“There is a gravity you feel, just being around her. Like the world has swept you away in some grand purpose. At the time I wasn’t very happy about my lot in life. But when no one else would have seen my problems, she was already thinking about how to help. Even though she’s invited me to her bed, I’ll never feed the rumors. I’ll leave it to you to guess if I did.”

Miraak and Elayne settled Helgen with the Reachfolk, and spent a few years adventuring together for one reason or another. For books, scarves, and even a month-long journey for a specific bent dwemer spoon in Solstheim. They visited homesteads, villages and great cities as Elayne tried to ‘civilize’ Miraak. Miraak showed Elayne Atmora, though her aversion to cold made that a short trip. Elayne never quite gave up her deviancy, and almost got herself exiled from Wayrest for ‘defiling the seat of the kingdom’. The rest of her family weren’t quite sure what to make of Miraak. Or their wayward daughter. They were even less pleased to discover that Elayne and Miraak took all of her cousins with them on their adventures through High Rock, before they returned to Skyrim for good. Elayne raised her cousins and helped rebuild, all while teaching Alduin how to live. She plans to keep her promise, to wait until the wheel of Anuic order spins to its last spoke, and then trust Alduin to do things right. Oh, and raise children with Miraak. Though neither were innocent before they were ‘wed’, their love was one for the books. Not that Miraak would let anyone write them.

Author’s Note

This has been a massive project. A long time ago I got into this little game called Daggerfall. My friends and I put a couple hundred hours into it, but we really had no idea what we were doing. When Morrowind came out, we were a few years older and wiser. I’ve been in the wikis and lore posts ever since, and updated a few pages you might have read in The Unofficial Elder Scrolls Pages. That’s en.uesp.net, if you haven’t been there already. It’s the most informative source for all of the information I pulled from.
My changes to the main quest are what I would have liked to do, considering how the plot of the Dragonborn DLC plays out. Miraak and Hermaeus Mora? It would be so much more devious if the prophecy to defeat Alduin wasn’t about the demi-god all along. And instead it laid the problem at the foot of the real foe all along. The ones who would benefit from the destruction of Tamriel. If you’re wondering how that plays out? Look at the page on the Druegh. The lore pages claim that they survived from the previous world. But it clearly infers that they survived only via daedric meddling. Judging by their shape, I totally associate them with Mora. So it was a pleasing surprise to link it all together, and to tell this smutty little story with a twist of my own for the plot.
Thank you all for reading this, and for those that were with me for the ride, your comments and messages helped fuel the process. This quarantine project has really been a lot of fun. I was glad to have done it, and may do some more fun stories in the future.

May all of you find friendships that last the test of time. Or go beyond it.
GT The Beast
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Skyrim: Plaything