Her sword dropped from her trembling hands as she fell down to her knees. Her breaths coming in and out like clockwork. She was tired. So tired.

This battle had been brutal. It took everything she had, and yet, it wasn't enough.

It was foolish to come here, such a foolish mistake. How she didn't see the strings being pulled by Hermaeus Mora shamed her.

She was smarter than that. Or at least she thought she was.

The sound of a heavy footfall approaching her caused her to drag her eyes up from the ground and to him.

Miraak.

The First Dragonborn had bested her, and the Dov inside of her was screaming to break free. Her soul was not ready to submit, but she did anyways. This fight was over.

She should have known better than to face him, but her arrogance had won over any sound judgement. She was the slayer of Alduin, and yet, here she was on her knees panting, bruised, and bleeding.

"You fought valiantly against fate, Dragonborn," Miraak said breaking the long stretched silence. She heard him breathe deeply and let out a sigh. "I grieve that you must meet your end this way. But necessity demands it."

She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "I know," she said and her voice wavered. She had lost, and now, her life was out of her hands. She would die, and Miraak would have her soul. He would have freedom.

He deserved his freedom after being under the dragons' thumbs for so long, and now being enslaved for an unthinkable amount of time in Apocrypha.

The tip of his sword came to rest beneath her chin and he forced her to look up at him. She didn't bother blinking away the tears that rested in her eyes. She was Dragonborn, but she was still human.

"You could have been mighty, if fate had decreed otherwise," he said.

She smiled lightly at the compliment before sucking in another breath. "And you deserve your freedom, Miraak."

He stayed quiet, and she imagined he was weighing the sincerity of her words. But in the silence she moved her hand to her side and pressed against her skin. Blood was seeping through her armour and coating the ground around her.

It wouldn't be long now.

She raised her chin higher until his blade rested against the column of her throat. "All I ask," she breathed. "Is for a quick death."

Miraak's grip on his sword tightened, and the gentle resting of the sword became a slight pushing. The tip pricked her skin, and she could feel drops of blood beginning to run down her neck.

Seconds passed and Miraak hadn't moved an inch.

"Please," she begged.

His sword moved from her throat as he whirled on the seekers approaching them.

"No!" She screamed and crawled towards him.

Lurkers and seekers converged all around him, and she could only watch.

She looked at the trail of blooding leading up to her body and down at the wound in her side. So much blood.

Her head began to pound and her eyes felt heavy. Is this what death felt like?

She gave in and let her eyes shut, welcoming the cold embrace of the void.

The Last Dragonborn breathed her last breath.

"No!" Hermaeus Mora's voiced boomed all throughout Apocrypha and shook the ground that Miraak was standing upon.

He turned and faced the lifeless body lying in a pool of blood and watched as her soul began seeping out and slowly wrapping around him like a warm blanket.

You're free a voice called out from the bright swirl of her soul, and he sucked in a breath.

Her soul began weaving into his own, and the warmth of her life spread throughout his body.

His eyes closed, and he could see her. A genuine smile crossed the woman's lips and her eyes were bright and full of life. She was happy. There was no anger, no sadness.

"Enjoy your freedom, Miraak," she said and something pained his chest.

The way she spoke. The light in her eyes. The warmth of her soul mixing with his own, and that's when he felt it.

Something clicked. Like a puzzle being brought to life with one single piece. He had been made whole. Not because he had absorbed her soul. No.

She was destined to be his and he, hers.

"I will always be with you," she said, smiling. Her eyes left his and gestured to the glowing gardens surrounding them. "Do you understand now?"

He nodded and breathed deeply. "Yes," he replied, his voice shaky. He wasn't ready to admit just what she was supposed to be to him.

And just like that, his eyes were forced open and were met with the dark night sky of Solstheim. "Dovahkiin," he called softly and hoped to see her lying there next to him. But she wasn't.

Only her armor and weapons lay beside him. He pulled them closer and put her things away in his pack and strapped her Daedric sword to his hip. He would carry this part of her wherever he went.

The blade was coated with his own blood, and yet after absorbing her soul, there was no wounds left on his body. No bruises or healed scars. It was as if she hadn't fought him at all.

He stood and turned to face his temple behind him. It wasn't finished, but he had a home. A home that he could have shown her if it weren't for Hermaeus Mora, but fate had other plans for the Last Dragonborn.

That night when he laid down to sleep and closed his eyes, she was there again. Her head was adorned with a crown of blue flowers, and she was wearing a light cotton dress. Her hair was down, and a genial smile crossed her lips.

She was beautiful.

Miraak smiled back to her and crossed the distance between them. The soft dirt beneath his feet was cool, and the closer he got to her, the more the sun seemed to shine.

At last he was standing before her, and she laughed.

"Dovahkiin," was all she said as she stared up at him.

He reached for her and smiled again when his hands touched the soft flesh of her fingers. "Mal dovah, how are you still here?" He asked. He was afraid she was a figment of his imagination.

Years of being imprisoned in Apocrypha had taught him to be wary of anything and everything.

"I will always be with you," she said softly and placed a hand across his heart.

"Always?" He questioned again.

She smiled and closed the remainder of distance between them. He was stunned as her arms wrapped around him, her soul began shimmering around her and weaved its way around him. She met his eyes one last time before she completely faded away and the colors of her soul made their way into his again.

The Last Dragonborn lived in Miraak's dreams, and he finally began to accept just what she was to him, and what she was meant to be in another life.

She was his soulmate, and he was hers. When their souls converged, it was a joining of two hearts and minds. And she would live forever with him.