*Deep breath* I'M BACK!

I call this chapter 'the calm before the storm'.

Enjoy.


"Let me see if I got this right-" Malvina started to say, and if her voice shook slightly, well, she could always blame it on exhaustion. "- you don't really want to leave me, but you finished the book anyway."

"Yes." Miraak had the decency to look ashamed, and he did not meet her eyes as he answered.

They reverted to silence: heavy, oppressive silence. It made it hard to breathe, hard to think. She needed air, space, distance. She needed to be in a crowded, loud room. The sudden urgency to get away had Malvina moving to stand fast enough to make herself dizzy.

"Malv-" Miraak pushed himself up to chase after her; reading the panic in her eyes, he grabbed her arm before she could get out of bed and Malvina pulled jerkily back. She needed to think, she needed-

The bed chose that moment to collapse completely, its legs giving way under them, wood splitting with a deafening sound. Miraak lost his grip and fell backwards.

"Void." The Last Dragonborn hissed, untangling herself from the debris. The sharp smell of blood was suddenly in her nose, even though nothing hurt.

"Fuckin' Gods-" Miraak's voice drawled lowly as he cradled his left side with one of his big hands, red seeping through his fingers, and Malvina inhaled as if she was pulled out from underwater, as if she'd finally come up for air. She shoved aside her need to run and pushed herself up from where she'd fallen to face Miraak, to look him over and see how bad the damage was. One of the thinner wooden panels under the mattress had snapped in half and went through the padding, and then right through Miraak as well.

The stupid man had just turned her world upside down and now she didn't even get to storm out dramatically because he had to go and get himself hurt. Typical.

"I cannot believe-" She started to say, her voice quiet and thick with tension, dangerous. "- that you went and signed your own death sentence hours ago and now you're not even waiting for bloody Mora." She moved carefully back to his side; prying his hand from where he was applying pressure to the wound as he tried to harness his magicka and stop the bleeding, she replaced it with both of hers. Her palms soon started glowing a warm and soothing gold, and Miraak relaxed.

"There is no reason to be so eager to die, you bastard." She told him, sounding bitter even to her own ears. She couldn't help it, really.

Said bastard merely chuckled in response, which was a mistake because the movements of his chest tore at his side, and the very next moment he was hissing in pain again.

Good, she thought, he deserved if for being such a bloody idiot.

She told him so, and Miraak made a small sound, almost as if he agreed with her.

Miraak. Agreeing. With her.

Either Malvina had somehow fallen asleep on the way to the house and everything that'd happened in the past hours was one weird dream— and to be honest, that actually sounded more believable with every minute— or he really was dying. Or going to die. Soon.

"Gods damn you, Miraak." She found herself hissing, her fingers gripping at his newly-healed skin and painted in his blood. Her hands still glowed with magic as she wrapped herself around him, placing her forehead into the space between his shoulder and his neck. She breathed him in, ignoring the faint tremors that shook through her as she tried to contain the storm of emotions under her skin.

"Already done." He whispered against the crown of her head, and Malvina laughed weakly. Now, of all times, he decided to develop a sense of humour. She ignored the way her eyes stung, the pressure she felt like hammer hits against her temples.

She felt his fingertips trace the line of her spine, skin on skin, so innocence and gentle and yet so new, so damning.

"You want to stay." She mouthed aloud, almost in disbelief. "You want me." It came out breathy, as his palm pressed against her lower back, just where her spine ended. His hands were warm, all of him was always so warm no matter how cold he treated her, as if his body always welcomed her. This time, the warmth burned like a brand. "We're out of time." Since when did her voice sound so small?

"Yes." He breathed into her. Yes, he wanted her and he wanted to stay. Yes, they were out of time. Yes to everything. If only she'd known earlier.

Malvina pushed against his bare chest, angry with the unfairness of it all, but he only pulled her closer. "You couldn't have told me earlier." She accused him. "You couldn't have waited before you-" She cut herself off, because of course he wouldn't have told her before he finished the book. When have they ever done anything but pretend that the tether between them didn't exist? They were too much alike to admit to weakness, to feelings. Perhaps neither of them was as brave as they liked others to believe.

Malvina never would have thought that it would lead them where they found themselves then.

"Void." She whispered. "We really are out of time, aren't we?" Malvina didn't even want to consider that they might have— what? days, hours, minutes?— before she would go back to being alone or surrounded by fools, people that were clueless to everything that made her what she was. And, to be honest, it wasn't even about that; it wasn't just about the fact that he was Dragonborn and he could understand her in ways no one else ever would, but about the fact that he was her match in every other way as well. He'd put up with her temper and her ego and never once did he look at her with fear, never once did he fail to match her blow by blow, insult by insult, kiss by kiss. She'd never known how much she needed someone to challenge her that way before he came along, and she didn't know if she would find anything like it again.

Malvina didn't do love, she knew that, but she thought that, were she capable of it, it would feel like this: like the consuming mess of desire and misery and heat inside her, like that primal voice in her head roaring 'mine' whenever they touched.

"Hermaeus Mora is definitely laughing at us now." She muttered, an echo of something he'd said in a conversation that felt like lifetimes ago, in the daedra's realm. She wondered if the Daedric Prince of Knowledge had known this would happen when he agreed to their deal.

'Don't think about it.' Malvina told herself firmly.

Miraak's hands guided her closer until she was fully in his lap, anchoring her in place. He kissed the top of her shoulder gently, almost an apology.

"It's too late for regrets, Dragonborn." He told her, lips brushing her skin. "I have you. You are mine." He didn't sound apologetic. He sounded proud, almost. He'd pulled her into his arms even after he'd finished the book, Malvina realised. He'd wanted to make her his even when he was doomed. Even when there was no future to be had. He hadn't cared about the fact that she would be left behind to deal with his absence. The selfish bastard.

It was a testament of how far gone she was, that Malvina felt a strange sort of fondness even at that.

"Stop speaking." She said, bringing her hands up to cup his face and kissing him with too much force. "Don't say another word…" Her lips hovered a hair's breadth away from his. "…I'm half-inclined to kill you myself for the stupid thing you just pulled."

Miraak grunted, nodded. His desire to speak disappeared down her throat as he kissed her.

"Wait." She gasped when they pulled back for air. "We do need to talk." Miraak didn't seem to hear her, his mouth already sucking the side of her neck, leaving bruises in its wake. Malvina hissed, shivers going down her spine, and resisted the urge to dig her nails into his back and pull him closer.

His hands trailed down her side, stopping at her hips. He lifted her up as if she weighed nothing, so she could place her knees on what was left of the bed, on either side of him. She felt him, hot and ready against her belly, making it very difficult for her to remember why she'd tried to pull away in the first place.

"We shoul— Oh, Mara, do that again." He lifted his hips again, teasing her with friction and heat. "Wait, no—" One of his hands left her hip and moved down the shape of her arse, moving her with him, and the rest of her sentence dissolved into soft moans. Who would have thought that Miraak could be so much more intense when they weren't trying to hide how much they wanted each other?

He brought his mouth to the side of her head and grazed the edge of her ear with his teeth. "You wanted to say something?" His breath travelled down the side of her neck and sent heat straight to her sex.

He started to move his hips away, and Malvina couldn't help a whine.

"Never mind." She said in a rush, drawing him back in. "It can wait."

"So…" Malvina started to say once she managed to catch her breath again. "…maybe now we should discuss what happens next? I'd rather keep you around for a while longer."

From under her, Miraak watched her for one long moment.

"We already know resurrection won't work." He eventually said, in a dry tone. "I have no doubt that my former master will destroy my soul after he kills me."

"I suppose that would have been too easy. " Malvina made a thoughtful sound. "Any ideas on how to save your soul?"

Miraak scoffed at the idea, and it made Malvina's lips twitch in an almost-smile. She made herself more comfortable on his broad chest and pressed her cheek harder into his shoulder.

"What about the book?" She asked next.

"What about it? Would you like to see it?"

"No." It scared Malvina how easy it was to decline the offer. She did, of course, want to see the book desperately, but it seemed she wanted Miraak more. What a comedy her life had become. "I want to know if there is any work that needs to be done for it that you might have forgotten about." There was no denying what she was asking— how 'finished' was the book, really? She stroked a lone finger up and down his arm as she waited for him to tell her, enjoying the goosebumps that her touch still managed to leave in its track, even after they've spent hours touching each other.

"No." Miraak's voice was strangely soft when he answered, and Malvina pressed her lips together to keep in a disappointed sigh. "The book is truly finished."

"You're really going to die, aren't you?" Her tone was light, but her fingers were now digging hard into his arm.

"We all die."

Malvina laughed, but it was a harsh and fleeing sound. "Bastard." She said, without any heat. "Why couldn't you have died when I wouldn't miss you?"

"When have I ever been considerate towards you, Dovahkiin?"

Malvina smirked jaggedly and pushed herself off his chest. "Point taken."

The bed and the room were still a mess, and it was a wonder that they've not hurt themselves again during their earlier manoeuvring; Malvina was careful as she lifted herself, finally, to her feet, and ignored how unsteady her legs felt. It would have made her pause it they hadn't been unsteady, with everything that'd happened in the past few hours.

Miraak watched her with those uncanny black eyes of his and she couldn't help it if she took a moment longer than she should have to stretch her limbs.

"Well, then…" She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I think we both need a drink."

He lifted himself from the bed as well, and she watched the way his strong body moved in the soft daylight, the stretch and pull of his muscle and the marks where she'd put her mouth on his skin. She didn't want to consider that it might be the last time she would see him like this, or at all.

"It wouldn't be the first time we went to the tavern before midday." He suggested, and she couldn't take her eyes off his lips, full and red from her kisses.

"I look forward to tasting the alcohol off your lips in full view of everyone again." His voice was deep and full of promise, and the smug tilt to his mouth made Malvina want to slap him. The way he left the collar of his borrowed shirt open so everyone could see the imprint of her teeth on him made her want to kiss him.

She made peace with the fact that giving him up might actually leave her sort of heartbroken.

Hermaeus Mora did not come that night. If he—it?— had, the daedra would have found the two Dragonborns in various states of inebriation, as well as in various stages of undress.

Miraak couldn't remember when they left the Bee and Barb, or even how they made it back to Honeyside. Evidently, somehow, they did, and they've apparently had enough sense to go to the spare bedroom downstairs instead of risk falling into the bed in the main bedroom, which was little more than a dangerous pile of broken woods and furs after the day before.

The bed downstairs, though, was significantly smaller than the broken one, and Miraak almost found himself wishing he'd held back a bit when he'd taken his anger on Malvina's belonging. Almost. The smaller bed meant that Malvina was pressed fully against him as she slept, squeezed between him and the wall, and unapologetically naked.

The First Dragonborn found himself not minding the cramped space so much when the first thing he woke up to was Malvina's small body— which contained such impossible strength and yet still held so much softness— in his arms.

Even though he was already hard against her leg, Miraak allowed himself to admit that she was making him soft too, in ways he'd never thought any woman could, as he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. He supposed that it was a good thing that he was as good as dead; he didn't want what was left of his legacy to be ruined by the likes of Malvina.

The woman in question stirred from her sleep with a monstrous yawn but, thankfully, without digging her elbow into his face for once.

"You're still here." She said, blinking at him blankly. Miraak rolled his eyes.

"Good morning to you too." His voice was deep with sleep and not as cross as it could have been.

Malvina smiled then, a sleepy, beautiful thing that had no place on the face of such an unruly woman. "Charming as always, Nord." She shot back, and her smile turned into a more familiar grin.

They untangled from each other almost reluctantly, taking their time, touches lingering and conveying more than words could.

Outside, it was barely sunrise, hardly the Last's usual time for waking up, which let Miraak know that Malvina was not back to her careless, indulgent ways just yet.

"Apparently, drunk me remembered to bring my stuff with us downstairs." He heard her mutter, more to herself than anyone else, as she managed to almost trip over her clothes pack at the side of the bed.

Miraak chose not to respond to her words in favour of admiring the curve of her back as she bent down at the waist to take a few items out.

If Malvina noticed his stare, she did not react, wrapping herself in her Nightingale armour with brisk efficiency. It fit her like a second skin, and The First Dragonborn admired the craftsmanship of the set almost as much as the contours of her body in the enchanted leather.

"I guess we got your stuff too." She said as she started doing the latches of her chest-piece, and Miraak almost missed what she meant. Indeed, following her gaze, Miraak noticed his own pack on the chair in the corner of the room, his notes on the small side-table. He felt something heavy settle in his stomach.

"Those are from yesterday." He corrected her, closing his eyes as he settled back against the stiff pillow. When he opened his eyes again, the plain stone ceiling stared back at him. "I finished the book here."

"Oh." There was no way to tell what that one sound meant, and Miraak forced himself to keep his eyes on the ceiling, not sure he wanted to check what expression Malvina was wearing just yet.

"Could I see it, now?" This time, she sounded almost unsure.

"It's in the pack."

The soft sound of footsteps joined Miraak's heartbeat in the man's ears, followed by the rustling of paper.

"Which one is it?" She asked, after a moment, and Miraak finally pushed himself up, turning to sit on the edge of the too-small bed.

"The one with the red cover." He said, watching her search until she found it.

"It's heavy." Was all Malvina said when she picked it up.

"Yes." The air sizzled with tension.

"Will you read it to me? I want that, before…" The rest of the sentence died in her throat, but Miraak understood.

"Only this once." He offered as an answer, and this time when she smiled at him her smile was bittersweet.

It was almost afternoon when they finally came out of Iona's room. By then, Miraak had read the book twice, and had gotten Malvina out of her armour just as many times.

They had their late lunch in companionable silence; Malvina stole both of Miraak's apple dumplings before he could even taste them, and her mouth tasted almost sickeningly sweet when he kissed her.

She offered to clean the table later in exchange for him making them tea.

The tea was just on the table when the Seeker materialized in the kitchen.


PLEASE READ: Next chapter is the conclusion to this story, but I have one bonus chapter/sort-of-epilogue already written, the one I promised after we reached 50 reviews.

If we reach 300 reviews by the time I post the bonus chapter, I will write another bonus chapter for you guys.

Also, I want to hear everyone's opinion on how this story will end, and if anyone can guess my plans correctly, they get a sneak-peak of the bonus chapter before I post it!

Thank you for reading, remember to review, and I should have the final chapter out in 2-3 weeks at the most (lots of reviews might motivate me to write faster, of course).

A.