7.
(Ro)
"What are you doing here?"
She could see from the brief hesitation in his straight posture that Miraak was taken aback at seeing her sprawled on his bed, reading one of his books.
The wait had been long, but it was the only way to corner him.
She sat on the edge of the bed and shut The Dragon Huntress. At the sight of the title his gloved hands curled into fists.
"How dare you snoop around my personal belongings!"
He was seething with the knowledge that she had rummaged through his drawers.
She could have answered that it was his own fault for not properly locking his door and vanishing for so much time with no notice, but she would not let him lead her astray from the topic she wanted to discuss, so she asked straight away, without preamble:
"Why haven't you escaped yet?"
Miraak stood there, his reaction conveniently hidden by his mask.
For a moment she thought he was really pondering on the best way to explain himself to her, until he towered over her sitting form and, with one strong grip in her arm, hauled her to the room's entrance.
"Get out. GET OUT."
Miraak never screamed. He had never lost his composure before.
Looking at how ruffled he became, she had her final proof.
"FUS RO DAH!"
He did not expect it, her attacking first, in his own lair. His chest took the whole force of her Shout and he was hurled on the bed. She didn't lose any time and straddled him, hissing her warning.
"No, ni daar tiid. This time it is by my own terms, dii siifur mu'ul."
She ripped off his mask and his robe and grabbed his head with both hands to lock his mouth in a fierce, long kiss before he could Shout anything at her.
She clawed his hairy, muscled torso, while intently staring at his widened eyes as he gasped for air.
She could see the internal battle behind his shocked gaze, the need to take control fighting against the desire to see what she would do to him next.
He didn't seem to understand yet.
"Zu'u mahn, I ride the dovah! Gol Hah Dov!"
The effect of the Shout was instantaneous—she could see it by the way his muscles tensed and his contracted jaw relaxed. Outrage glittered in his black eyes, lined with promises of merciless retribution.
As she untied his belt and trousers she wondered how long the effect would last. Those words of power were relatively new to her and she was not sure if her Thu'um was strong enough to keep his will at bay for too long.
That made her undress faster and unfasten his loincloth.
She smirked at the sight and threw a glance at the clash of emotions raging in his eyes.
He was hard and she felt herself get even more soaked at the confirmation that she got it right, that she was finally understanding the conflicting urges of that twisted man.
She delicately squeezed his throbbing member and leaned down to tease it with her tongue, observing with devilish pleasure at how tightly he shut his eyes. She had learnt enough tricks by now to know which spots to lick to intensify his powerless suffering. Oh yes, he taught her well indeed.
"Now I finally get why you can't hurt me."
She told him this with a sultry voice he had never heard before just as her warm folds slowly descended and wrapped around his swollen hardness, until she was completely riding him.
"All was mine from the beginning, right? Kopraan, zahreik, hadrim."
She sighed lustfully, looking down at him from half-closed lids, observing how he was at her mercy. All the while she slowly rocked against him, letting him watch helplessly how she completely unravelled.
The way rosy tint of her cheeks matched her wild hair, the satisfied smile she tried to temper by nibbling her bottom lip, how her luscious, soft breasts wobbled with each little motion, and how her tight walls squeezed his cock. It was driving him mad.
However, it was not enough, and she started to caress his chest, smothering his neck and torso with a trail of scorching kisses, while he could do nothing.
"Infatuated and forlorn dovah, do not fret, though. Zu'u laan hi rem."
It was like those words pushed him enough to finally snap out of her control, and she found herself suddenly pressed on her back, her wrists pinned over her head, her mouth invaded by his own, and their roles abruptly reversed. A shudder ran through her spine when he whispered with a deep growl:
"That's the risk of riding a volg dovah, my dear. In the end he will buck you off. Gol Hah!"
He didn't use the whole Shout—he wanted to give her a chance to get free. Such a twisted man.
She would show him soon how much she wanted to fight him, rival him in any way, if only she could gather enough concentration to break from the Shout, and he was not making it any easier, not the way he kept fondling her breasts and biting the curve of her neck, or sliding inside her with slow, hard thrusts, reaching that spot he knew made her shiver with need.
From the challenging smirk he wore he was keeping that low, torturous pace on purpose.
That insufferable, conceited jerk. He was clearly enjoying her feeble whimpers and weak attempts at getting free. Payback, or a contorted way to give her more time? She moaned as he nibbled her earlobe. Perhaps both. There would be no satisfaction in his victories if she were meek and subdued.
She would never bend to his will, he knew that, but he was also aware that she loved challenges.
She rose again, finally breaking free, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pushing him into a sitting position, with her legs tightly hooked around his waist.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck, moaning in his ear as they rocked with abandon against each other, until she arched back, a scream escaping her lips. With her walls tightening around him, he could not delay anymore and followed her with a low groan, letting her warm vice squeeze him until he was completely depleted.
He slipped out and laid next to her. With their hands intertwined and tiredly smiling at one another, they sealed their silent deal.
Dragon language:
ni daar tiid = not this time
dii siifur mu'ul = my own rule
Zu'u mahn = I decide
Gol Hah Dov = Earth Mind Dragon
Kopraan, zahreik, hadrim = Body, heart, mind
zu'u laan hi rem = I want you too
volg = untamed
How much the DB got it right is up to you, Miraak could have been an obsessive stalker from the beginning, or a manipulative bastard that wanted to have his fun, but fell in his own trap and developed Lima Syndrome. As this is mainly from DB's point of view there are no certainties if and when Miraak is being truthful or manipulative, you decide that too. This is one of the reasons he dislikes DB's researching her own answers, he prefers to be her only source of info. From DB's side, she has many flaws, but she is an exceptional fast learner, subconsciously she understands the only way she can manipulate him is using her sexuality, and she adapts accordingly.
I hope all of this is in some way perceivable from the story, there is always this risk of being too subtle or be 'anvilicious' and ruin everything.
From now on the last few chapters will seem to sail to lighter moods, but as I said from the beginning there will be no happy ending, nor a dramatic tearjerker one, because that's how life in Skyrim is, an uncertain grey future full of problems.
Don't forget to leave a cookie or share some thoughts, I'm curious like that.
