I.
In her eternal dreams, she could feel eyes upon her.
Like falling from a great height into the abyss the feeling of her heart sinking into her stomach lingered. Breathless, she was breathless, and in this great dark uncertainty the Dragonborn could feel the eyes upon her. Thousands of them leered upon her as the black twisted itself around her wrists- it was a prison and it wanted her forevermore.
"Dragonborn," Orianna heard, the Daedric Prince's voice as smooth as the surface of black tar. "you didn't truly think you could escape me, did you? So foolish."
To what end did they ever perceive- something where both were meant to exist, harmlessly without any effect? Was it childish hope or even ignorance that they had believed they could escape the clutches of a Daedric God? The Dragonborn was known for her stubbornness, they would say, she was never one to let the odds win over her and as such she struggled against the God's grip upon her wrist. How dare he-
But then she could breath again.
Suddenly dark eyes opened and beneath the starlit sky the Dragonborn stirred awake. Sitting upward and reaching towards her wrist, the mess of honey brown hair cascaded over her shoulders. The burning sensation lingered and though her eyes were careful there was nothing that she could see.
"You'll get used to the dreams," she heard, the Nordic accent thick and yet cool. The warm coloured eyes looked upward to catch Miraak still but watching her. "You'll be fine."
"It felt so real." she replied, quiet but composed. "I... could have swore I was there again."
The two companions had found themselves resting at the edge of Riften, daring not to tempt the city in fear of perhaps being far too recognized, and though quiet they had both stared into the fire that trembled before them. Warm eyes would catch the man's shape through the dancing red and orange and though quick to avert her gaze, she couldn't help but to stare. There was something about having such a beast for an enemy turned companion that left the young woman almost in disbelief. Was this real or perhaps yet another unrealistic turn in her life?
"Dragonborn," Orianna had heard then and her eyes flicked upward. "I have been meaning to ask you something."
With a slight furrow to her brow the woman turned and gave him a curious look. "Certainly? What do you wish to know?"
The politeness made Miraak lean forward with his arms crossed. The body language suggested he was unimpressed or perhaps uncomfortable, in either case it showed his lack of actual care for the situation. "I was concerned as to you actually having a plan. I have fought against you and I would like to point out that a lot of your thoughts seem to come in the moment. Do you ever think about what you do?"
It was in this moment the Dragonborn had found herself staring harder. "Excuse me?" She asked, the two companions staring at one another through the orange flames.
"I asked if you had a plan," he replied with an irritated tone. "I didn't realize when I had taken this offer that I'd have to do the thinking and explaining as well."
The Dragonborn, pulling her warm clothes further down her wrist, leaned forward and gave him a sweet smile. "Why Miraak," she said, her lips like honey. "I thought it was obvious- we were just going to sit outside of town and mug people."
The silence that lingered made the both of them unmoving. The crackling of the flames made the shadows dance and Miraak appeared as a statue. He was unimpressed with her sarcasm, her mother swore up and down that her tongue would never get her a husband, and in this moment the young woman couldn't help but to laugh. Why was a husband needed when there was a world to explore?
"Your humour makes me wish for Apochrypa," he said after a moment, her brows furrowing in response. "At least I wouldn't have to endure the pain of your existence."
"Be my guest, oh masterful Dragonborn," she replied as she shrugged her shoulders. "If you so truly wish- I'm sure we can just conjure up the Daedric Prince's pets to come rescue you."
Although sarcastic, Orianna was very close to just up and leaving him. Since being together Miraak was constantly scrutinizing everything that she had done from gathering water to finding a place to rest. Always he would lord over her and make her feel like if he had the chance he would have done it better. In her own way she comforted herself by reminding them that he could always go back if he wanted to- she wasn't holding him hostage. Usually this would make him quiet down and the journey wouldn't be so taxing. The reality stood is that neither knew why they had decided upon this union.
In the final moments of their standoff, the feeling she had when his dragon lay dead at their feet, and the final seconds before it was his end- she outstretched her hand. Soft fingers before the enemy that lay upon his knees, hunched over and tending a wound to his ribs, The Last Dragonborn asked the First to join her. It was an incredible moment that seemed so surreal. She couldn't believe she had asked and it was far more unfathomable that he had taken her hand in response.
The young woman recalled the feeling of his hand upon hers and through the gloves she could feel the warmth. For someone who acted so set upon himself he certainly felt human. Orianna felt her cheeks warm at the thought, the dancing orange thankfully keeping the rings of pink at bay.
And just as soon as the moment started it had ended.
The moment between then and now was long lost. She had recalled the Black Book and her new companion expelling them from Apochrypa to Nirn, the heat of the moment overwhelming in all of its sense. Just the feeling of his hand upon hers lingered, her fingers clenching to her palm at the thought.
With a soft sigh though she relented. "I'm sorry Miraak, when I had asked you to join me I didn't actually have a plan. I asked because I thought I was a better choice."
Still statuesque in frame she heard a deep, irritated sigh escape from behind the mask. "You were, it's why I accepted. I also expected a bit more forethought considering you've defeated The Worldeater."
At this point her warm, dark eyes lifted from the man before her to the great dark sky above her. Masser and Secunda were full and round and lighting the way for all those that had called Nirn home. Home, she thought, she had been far from home for a few years now that she had wondered if it would even be considered that now. Did they remember her? Would they be impressed by their daughter now?
"With the Worldeater dead, is there even a place for us now?" the question remained like a ghost in a graveyard, cold and unwelcome. It haunted her, she felt out of place to be called Dragonborn now, and her eyes continued to stay upon the great moons. The musings of a hero without a purpose was all that it was.
"The Dragons remain, you will have a purpose until they are defeated."
Curious for a man who once served them.
"And what purpose do you foresee for yourself then?" she asked, her eyes once again meeting his.
"I will always find my purpose," he responded with a certain matter-of-fact quickness. "I am Miraak, I will always have a purpose."
It was something she felt needed no other explanation, or at least not in this moment. The First Dragonborn was certain of himself and for that she admired him, even if it went unsaid. "I wish I had your certainty," the girl replied with a soft tone. "I was always told that I was strong willed for no other purpose than to defy."
The man gave a low chuckle and he shrugged his shoulders. "Defiance is what brought you here. Many have tried to do what you have and have lacked the strength for it."
In a strange way Miraak had a way with words that made her heart feel big. Yes, he was far too arrogant for his own good but she couldn't help but to find a certain comfort in it all. Was this all apart of the divine plan? Were the Aedra laughing that the Last Dragonborn was to find purpose in the First?
Suddenly however a great noise to the east of them was heard. Standing upon her feet in the matter of seconds she readied herself for battle, the idea of being caught now far too terrifying.
"Come here." Miraak spoke as he too rose to his feet. Without a word or sound the two gathered to each other's side and the both of them stared endlessly into the dark. Her heart rose to her throat and the both of them had stared into the darkness trying to catch any sign of the intruder. Thoughts of the tar and the lurkers that were produced from the Black Death made the Dragonborn's wrists burn. She was scared of being taken back.
But then there were voices off in the distance, they sounded panicked.
"The Emperor is dead!" the voices chilled them, the words produced were like arrows piercing the skin. The Emperor was dead? Was this true?
"Tell the Jarl! The Emperor is dead!"
Her family had been staunch supporters of the Empire, the very thought of their daughter in Skyrim would have sent them into an upheaval, and to know that the Emperor lay dead was just as confusing to her as it would have been to them. The two were quiet as they lingered close to the fire at their side.
"The work of something dark, I am sure." Miraak said quietly, adamant not to make any sound in order to stay out of sight and out of mind.
"The Dark Brotherhood, only they would be capable of something so malicious." She replied quietly, her fingers catching his dark robes. The coarse feeling stabilized her heart and grounded her back to Nirn- truly it couldn't be?
"This world has always been filled with maliciousness. It's why it needs a firm hand to guide it."
The feeling of her companion's body so close to her own and the words he spoke made her feel safer. Was this all part of the divine plan? Surely someone was laughing at them?
Perhaps it was time the two left Skyrim, hidden away somewhere safe so they wouldn't be found by Hermaeus Mora and let the world set itself right. Would that be the right thing to do?
"Come, Dragonborn, there is somewhere I must show you." Curiously it was him taking her hand now and though cautious the two wandered through the dark of the night. The dark eyes once again returned to the great dark sky and the moons that had lit it up.
The reality stood that yes, this was all apart of the divine plan and the Gods were laughing at them. But what were insects crawling beneath the feet of something glorious?