A/N: Hey, look at me, updating after...years. Life's Persistent BS has been holding me hostage, but I finally got away for a moment. Sorry if this chapter seems a bit stilted. After a long hiatus, it's hard to get back into the 'feel' of a story.

Chapter 15

They hadn't been in Blackreach long – seemed like half an hour, maybe longer – and hadn't gone more than 200 feet from the entrance, but Miraak had already decided he hated the place. The air was heavy and humid from the constant supply of steam being pumped into it from the city's still active machinery, mysterious shit was floating around in it, and the smell of oil and damp was an invasive assault on the nose. Maybe those things could be forgiven, but not the deep uneasy feeling the place gave him. Blackreach appeared endless, and yet he was keenly conscious of its rigid rock walls on every side of him, its solid ceiling above. It felt like they were closer than they were. He felt trapped somehow, had to keep reminding himself there was a way out. Knew that feeling was irrational, and yet it still imposed itself upon him.

Miraak made an effort to conceal his discomfort behind a stoic facade to avoid the unwelcome probing questions that would surely come if the woman noticed. He needn't have bothered.

As he and Liv were making their way back up the cobbled avenue to a small clifftop they had passed earlier, she cleared her throat and asked with a measured tone, "Something wrong?"

"No."

"Well, you look like something is wrong."

Damn her eyes. Miraak ignored her.

"You're trying to hide it, but you're not very good at it," Liv went on, exchanging her measured tone for a casual one; she might have been talking about a hobby or a favorite dish, not his obvious failure at concealing his unease. "To be fair, I imagine you've not had much practice, what with you practically living in that stupid mask."

"I did not live in it, and you had no right to take it from me. I demand to know what you did with it." Miraak didn't give even a fraction of a shit about that mask; it was as useless to him now as all the spells and Shouts still living inside his head. He just wanted to lure her away from her original question.

And it worked; the creature took the bait like the easily manipulated fool she was.

"You'll find it at the bottom of the Sea of Ghosts, with the rest of your shit. That Black Book, too. May it all rot down there." Liv gave a smile that was somehow smug and pretty at the same time.

Miraak grimaced and looked up at a cluster of giant glowing mushrooms instead. Damn her face. "You thought to destroy a Black Book by chucking it into the sea? Your stupidity knows no bounds. The Black Books are subject to Hermaeus Mora's will. They cannot be destroyed unless he allows it."

Liv scoffed, and Miraak suspected she accompanied the noise with a roll of her eyes. "Well, you would know better than me, wouldn't you? And I'm sure it brings you great pride and satisfaction to lord that knowledge over me, despite the fact such knowledge should only bring you shame."

"It's useful, unlike your ignorance."

"You –" Liv stopped. Miraak couldn't help looking over to witness the miracle of her shutting her damn yap for once. She was biting down on her bottom lip and her hands were curled into fists down at her sides, all in a clear effort to stop the words coming out. She took a deep breath and let it out. "Nope. I'm not doing this. We're supposed to be working together." Muttered the latter to herself over and over, like a mantra. Then her eyes, awash with angry fire despite her soothing efforts, shot to his. "If you're gonna be a dick, I'm done talking to you."

With that, the creature picked up her pace, all but stomping up the path.

Miraak allowed himself a small smile and a leisurely stride, content with following. Peace and quiet, at last.

The clifftop, upon which an oblong Dwemer building sat, was across from the entrance into Blackreach. Of course, in typical Liv fashion, when she had suggested going up to the cliff she had not explained her purpose for it, but Miraak could hazard a guess: the height provided a broader view of Blackreach's front expanse and the animunculi gathered throughout it to better assess their numbers and figure out her next move.

Miraak counted the automata in his head, stopped after he got to thirty. There were probably close to fifty, if not more, some clustered together in groups but most spread out through the area. Spiders, Spheres and Steam Centurions. Not quite the army Liv had insisted they were, but a questionable number of them even still, and strange behavior for automata, congregating like this as some of them were. Most were quiet and motionless at the moment, save for a handful of Spiders skittering around.

It wasn't just animunculi down there, either; there was a large quantity of Falmer among them, most armored in Chaurus chitin, some carrying shields, all of them armed with a variety of crude chitin-made weaponry; everything from swords and axes to bows and staves. To look at them now, it was hard to imagine they had ever been the tall and fair Snow Elves, a once great and thriving civilization. To look at them now gave Miraak immense pleasure. They had broken the short-lived peace with the Atmorans the first chance they got, treated them like vermin to be exterminated, and now they were no better than vermin themselves.

"Shit," Liv breathed, her eyes studying the scene in that careful, penetrating way she had, like she thought her gaze alone could uncover the answers to all the questions she no doubt had. "Leif and I destroyed I don't know how many automata and Falmer last time we were here, but I've never seen this many gathered in one place before. Where in Oblivion did these all come from?"

"Perhaps there are areas you missed in your previous exploration," Miraak said.

Liv waved off his suggestion as if it was an annoying fly. "Doubtful. We spent three days down here, exploring every nook and…" She trailed off as though something suddenly had occurred to her and frowned. "Okay, well, not every nook and cranny. There were caved-in tunnels we didn't bother trying to get through."

"Caved-in tunnels that could very well lead to whole other unexplored districts. Districts with automata, perhaps even animunculories."

"I suppose, but that only brings up more questions: if they got through the cave-ins and found more contraptions, how did they get them back into this part of Blackreach? I guess they could've lured them, but these things usually don't stick around unless a threat is still present; they go back to whatever they were guarding or wherever they were patrolling. Those things down there aren't acting threatened, and they don't group together like this on their own either. It's almost like someone moved them there, but...how? You'd have to know how to control them, so they don't attack you, but where they'd find the knowledge to do it? Why are they doing it? And who even are 'they'? It can't be just the Falmer and their slaves –"

"Stop," Miraak cut in. He knew if he didn't these questions would've gone on forever, and he was already low on patience. "You are getting ahead of yourself, focusing on the questions that have no relevance right now. Your priority is finding those missing people –"

"I'm well aware of my priorities. Answering some or even one of those questions might help me find them."

Miraak threw his hand out at the scene below them. "Will it aid you in getting past the host of Falmer and automata standing between you and those people? If you cannot get past them, it does not matter if you answer those questions or not. And given their numbers and the absurd amount of time it takes you to recover between Shouts, I assume you do not intend to fight your way through them. That would be suicide."

Liv let out a harsh laugh. "You really can't help it, can you? Did your tentacle overlord put you under some kind of curse? Because I swear it's like you have to criticize me for something every couple minutes or you'll combust on the spot."

"It's not criticism if it's fact. It takes you several minutes to be able to Shout again, and that's unacceptable. Have you even bothered to try to hone your Voice?"

Liv stuck her hands on her hips and looked offended. "Several minutes, my arse! It takes a minute at most and it depends on the Shout. And unlike you –" She thrust a finger at his face. "I didn't get four thousand years to hone my power."

Miraak huffed with indignation. "It did not take me four thousand years; it hardly took me one year."

"Oh, aye," Liv said, venom in her tone, a storm on her face. "And how easy it must've been for you with no rush to come to terms with it, no pressure to learn. Never having to feel any responsibility for that power. Nothing for it to serve but yourself. I had to learn how to use it with the fate of the fucking world resting on my shoulders – a responsibility I never asked for and which never should have been mine."

Miraak felt his blood quicken with anger. Easy? She thought it was easy for him? "You could have walked away. You chose the path Akatosh set before you; you chose to make that responsibility your own." He knew he was escalating this and didn't care. He would not allow her to accuse him of having it easy or guilt him for her choices.

Liv didn't seem to care either, any concern with keeping the peace between them thrown to the wind. She thrust herself into his space, came toe-to-toe with him, the storm in her expression approaching apocalyptic intensity. "It was either that or let Alduin devour everything I care about." She shoved her palms into his chest, hardly budging him but either not noticing or caring in her anger. "Some choice!"

"And yet it was still a choice. That it was not made easy for you does not change that."

"It shouldn't have been a choice I had to make!"

She tried to shove him a second time, but Miraak seized her by the wrists, fingers squeezing hard on the delicate bones there. "Do you hear yourself? You sound like a child, whining about how unfair it all is. Do you think it was any fairer when the burden fell to me? I asked for it no more than you did."

"Unhand me or so help me, I'll burn you alive and feed your roasted carcass to the fucking Falmer," Liv snarled, trying to jerk out of his grasp.

Miraak tightened his grip on her. She had started this, he would finish it. "Your god does not care about fairness, and least of all about us. We are nothing more than tools to him, made to carry out his will and to be tossed away when we are no longer useful. I chose not to be his instrument. You did, and you have admitted it yourself. You've no right acting like you are a victim when you chose to be one." He shoved her back, breath uneven, heart a galloping beast inside his chest. And he realized it then, that he was angrier than he should've been.

Liv staggered, flailed her arms to get her balance back, and skewered him with a look of fuming contempt. She opened her mouth; whether to further squabble with words or escalate to violence with a Shout, Miraak would never know, but it was clear she wasn't backing down. What came out was a gasp, however. Miraak got a brief glimpse of the pain and surprise in her expression before she stumbled back, catching herself on the wall of the Dwemer building behind her. There was a moment of confusion – what in Oblivion was that about? – and then he saw it: a crude wooden shaft, feathered at the end, stabbed high in her right thigh.

Miraak became aware of the noise he would've heard long before had he not been consumed by their arguing and his own anger; the guttural growls and screeches of Falmer, the clank and hiss of working machinery, coming from below. He was only fortunate that arrow hadn't gone through him. Her howling at him like a mad banshee moments ago must've drawn them.

"Oh. Well, that's not good," Liv said as she stared with dumb astonishment at the shaft stuck in her flesh. The placing was fortunate, missing the big vein that would've had her bleeding out in seconds, and it appeared to have missed bone too; if it had found bone, she would've been on the ground, screaming or unconscious from the agony. That she wasn't on the ground, screaming with just the arrow stuck in flesh was a surprise in itself; even when they didn't find bone, they were still exquisitely painful.

Instinctively, Liv reached down to pull the shaft out. Miraak surged forward and knocked her hand away, earning a scowl from her and serving it right back. Stupid girl. Should've just let her yank it out and suffer the consequences of her own ignorance. "Pulling it out like that will do more damage than good, you idiot. Don't you know anything?"

Liv blinked at his vicious tone, opened her mouth to probably snap back at him but was interrupted by another round of shrieking, closer now. Miraak spun toward the noise. A group of Falmer swarmed up the rise in the ancient road, followed by a small number of Dwarven Spheres and Spiders.

Miraak ripped Frostbite from its sheath, the icy blade giving off a faint bluish glow. There weren't many. He could take them, was looking forward to it, in fact. Wanted – no, needed – to hit something, to give vent to the barely restrained fury still burning under his skin from before.

The Dragonborn hobbled up on his right side, readying a fire spell in her right hand. She didn't look well, her expression strained, her skin pale. The thigh of her pant leg was dark with blood, but there was not enough there and she hadn't been bleeding long enough for it to warrant her pallid appearance. Something else, then. Pain? A combination of pain and lack of rest?

"Stay out of it," Miraak said, his stern tone brooking no argument. "You will only get in my way or get us both killed."

With that, Miraak marched off to meet the oncoming enemy. He didn't get five strides before he heard the Dragonborn staggering after him, puffing out pained and strained breaths. Miraak forced a curse through teeth clenched in irritation – why couldn't she just do what she was told? – then turned to snap at her.

"I said –"

Liv thrust a hand toward his face. A blinding burst of magelight filled his vision, made him flinch. "I don't give a fuck what you said. Get out of my way," Miraak heard her snarl. Growling back, he blindly made a grab for her, hoping for her neck but finding only air instead.

By the time his vision cleared, the enemy had reached the stubborn bitch. Flame burned in her hands, tendrils of it snaking up her arms like fiery vines, glowing brighter and brighter, building up to something. The air grew hot, thicker, charged – an omen of what was to come. She lifted her burning arms with an enraged warcry of "Fuck off!", and the flames swelled before erupting into a massive inferno that swallowed the Dragonborn and the enemies around her, and lit up this part of Blackreach in its fierce orange glow.

Miraak felt the power of her magic wash over him where he stood, hot as any dragon's fire. He suffered an unpleasant jolt of surprise. While she seemed to have a curious handle on her magic (remembering how she had used just enough of the Flames spell to heat the porridge earlier without burning it), it had never crossed his mind that she might be in possession of Master level spells, more focused on the extent of her Dragonborn abilities instead. Not even in those visions Mora forced on him had he witnessed her use any such spells, but perhaps it had been the Prince's intention to hide what she was capable of.

Not that it mattered. Her Master spells still would have been no match for his Voice.

When the storm of fire and the screams of burning Falmer died down, Miraak saw the woman untouched, swaying a little where she stood, arms down at her sides now and surrounded by piles of ash and burnt chitin armor and weaponry – all that remained of the Falmer. The Spiders and Spheres lay still among the death and destruction. Although the Dwarven metal appeared scorched, none of it was melted. It seemed the spell had overwhelmed their power source, however.

It was far from over. A handful of Falmer and four Spheres stormed up from the avenue. A trio of plodding Steam Centurions lagged a ways behind them, their huge bulk and limited mobility slowing them down. The Dragonborn drew in a breath and let it out in a Shout of "Fus Ro Dah!". The unfortunate Falmer disintegrated upon impact, their ashy remains dispersing in the air. The Spheres rocked back on their rounded bases but were quick to recover. They rushed at Liv, forcing her to hobble back to give herself the space and time to conjure another spell. But her wounded leg worked against her, wobbling from the weight she put on it before eventually collapsing under her. She dropped back on her arse, teeth gritted in pain, a hand moving to squeeze around her bloody, wounded thigh.

Cursing the foolish woman, Miraak bolted for the Spheres. Frostbite swung beneath one's arm-mounted blade as it descended on Liv, stopping it dead with a klang. Miraak wrenched the Dwarven-made sword aside, pulled back Frostbite and hacked it down onto the machine's appendage with all the force he could muster. The frost enchantment on the weapon had no effect on the automaton, but the solid might of stalhrim made up for that. The gear that connected the appendage to the Sphere's body made a harsh grinding noise as it was bent out of place. One more good hit and the Sphere's blade and arm fell to the floor, leaving it with only its arm-mounted crossbow with which to attack.

Miraak felt that magical charge in the air again, heard the buzz of lightning, and then the Sphere before him jerked as threads of energy spread over its form. He went for the contraption's joints as before, smashing and thrusting through gears until the Sphere was a dismantled pile at his feet. His head jerked around to the Dragonborn, who sat upright with her arms outstretched in front of her, lightning magic streaming from her palms. She looked worse than before, paler, sweating. The remaining three Spheres surrounded her, lightning arcing between all of them, crawling over their metal flesh. Liv did not let up despite her pain and exhaustion, her face steeled over with that same stubborn determination Miraak had witnessed when they briefly fought in Apocrypha. It would have been almost admirable if her mulishness hadn't gotten them into this mess in the first place.

Finally overcome by her magic, the Spheres collapsed in unison. No sooner had they than the three Steam Centurions came up the rise in the road. Beyond them, a much larger group of Falmer and automata streamed and skittered toward them, quickly overtaking the sluggish Centurions and parting around them to get through. More of the bastards. Had the whole of fucking Blackreach been alerted?

Miraak made a snap decision in that moment, one that wounded his pride, but there was nothing for it. They were badly outnumbered, the idiot woman wouldn't last much longer in her wounded state, and he couldn't take them all on alone in his powerless one. Gods, but it hurt to realize that.

Miraak bent over the Dragonborn and snatched a fistful of her robe. The woman made a strangled sound of pain as he yanked her upright and gave her a push toward the way out.

"Move. This is beyond us."

Liv staggered forward and fell, much to his mounting irritation. "Something's wrong…"

"Yes, you are useless," Miraak snarled as he batted away an incoming thrust from a sphere that had finally reached him and kicked it backwards. The contraption rolled back into the Falmer behind it, and Miraak took advantage of the time and snatched up the Dragonborn again, by the collar this time. She leaned into him for stability, fingers clinging to the front of his robe as her bad leg shook from her weight. His skin crawled at how close she was, took most of his control not to thrust her away from him. But better to suffer the discomfort than to waste precious time having to haul her up again when she undoubtedly fell.

"My veins feel like they're on fire," Liv said through tight breaths.

Poison. The arrow was poisoned. Of course. It should've been obvious before. The vermin down here were known for using it, and poison would explain why her health had deteriorated so quickly from a wound that wasn't pouring her life out.

Miraak gritted his teeth and sheathed his sword, knowing what must be done to get them out this situation and hating it with every fiber of his being. "I pray you have some strength left to cast. You will have to cover our escape."

"I –"

Miraak didn't wait for her to finish, just bent her backwards, scooped her up, and ran for the exit as if the whole of Oblivion itself came after him. Every step away from the fight carved off a chunk of his pride. Here he was, the almighty First Dragonborn, fleeing from vermin and machines, reduced to being his lesser's bearer. He could almost hear Vahlok's mocking laughter, which did nothing to ease his still flaring temper.

The ground shuddered with the pursuit of the automata and Falmer, their clanks and bloodthirsty shrieks sounding as if they were right at his heels. Arrows, Dwemer and Falmer alike, whizzed past him, thudding into the ground and pinging off Dwemer stone. One shuttled by his right ear, too close for comfort. The Dragonborn flung spells of fire and lightning over his left shoulder and got off a Shout that left his ears ringing for a moment. A Shout, he realized somewhere in the back of his mind, that he did not know.

Hun Kaal Zoor. Hero, Champion, Legend.

Miraak risked a glance back and was surprised to see the specter of fucking Hakon One-Eye engaged with the Falmer and machines, giving some of them another enemy to focus on. If she could summon that bastard, why hadn't she done it sooner?

Miraak focused on the exit, just a few yards ahead now. Quite a few Falmer and automata still pursued, and Hakon's ghost wouldn't stand long against the three Steam Centurions that lagged behind. He pushed himself to move faster as he passed through the first threshold to the Cathedral room. The thud of his boots and his labored breath echoed in the corridor as he fled down it, finally reaching the door to the stairs. Fortunately, they'd left it open. Miraak passed through and shoved his right shoulder into the huge slab of Dwarven metal to shut it and put an obstacle between them and their pursuers, then climbed the stairs two at a time.

"The stairs. Is there a way to close them off again?"

"They normally reset themselves after a time – don't ask me how long that takes," Liv said. "But the attunement sphere works like a key of sorts, so maybe it'll bypass the reset and close off the stairs."

"Only one way to find out. Quickly."

As Miraak carried her to the Dwarven mechanism, Liv dug the sphere out of her knapsack. When she put it in the recess, the mechanism came to life, rumbling as the stairs rose up to appear as the floor once again. No sooner had it closed up than loud banging came from below – their pursuers trying to bash their way through Blackreach's door. Unless they had the means to breach all the Dwemer metal and stone between them and their quarry, they weren't getting through. The ruckus went on for a few moments more, and then went quiet.

"Well," Liv said with a breath of relief. "That could've gone better."

Miraak made an angry noise and dumped her on the floor.

The woman yelped in pain, glared up at him as she grabbed at her bloody thigh. "You didn't have to drop me, you arsehole! What in Oblivion is wrong with you?"

"Me?" Miraak snarled at her, fists clenched. Akatosh help him, he was this close to ending her. "What in Oblivion is wrong with you? Throwing a tantrum loud enough to bring all of Blackreach down upon us, acting reckless simply because I told you not to do something. You stupid godsdamned child. You nearly got us both killed in there."

Liv closed her eyes and winced, her hand squeezing just above the shaft buried in her leg. "I gave you fair warning that I don't like being bossed around, did I not? You didn't listen."

"You were in no condition to fight. I warned you getting involved might get us both killed, and you nearly proved me right."

"And yet I took out more of them than you did, despite my condition."

Miraak couldn't help a wince of his own, glad her eyes were closed so she couldn't see it. It hurt because it was true. "That is not the point. And they never would have known we were there in the first place if you had not lost your temper and alerted them."

"I wouldn't have lost my temper if you didn't criticize me and act like an arsehole all the time."

"Are you so soft as to let mere words effect you? Or was it the truth in those words that angered you?"

Her eyes opened. They were bright, cold and alive, the only part of her the poison hadn't affected. "A person can only tolerate so much arseholery. I finally reached my limit with you." Liv sat up, gritting her teeth as she did so, and pulled the strap of her knapsack over her head, her glaring eyes never leaving him. "And I don't appreciate arseholes making assumptions about me when they know shit about me in the first place."

Miraak laughed out his anger, because he didn't know what else to do with it. Couldn't exactly strangle her death like he wanted. "And you think you are within your right to do the same, despite knowing nothing about me? How typical. You are as hypocritical as you are self-righteous. Charming combination, I must say."

"Except I never made any assumptions, but nice try," Liv shot back as she yanked open her pack and rummaged around inside it for something, probably a potion for the poison.

"Of course you deny it; I expected no better from you. You assume it was somehow easy for me to come to terms with and learn to hone my power, despite coming into it while the dragons were at the height of theirs. Do you imagine they looked favorably upon my ability to rip out their souls and steal their power? You know nothing of what it was like for me, the things I had to –"

Miraak shut his mouth so quick he almost bit his tongue, damning up the flood of words before he lost complete control of them. Again, finding himself angrier than he should've been and allowing that anger to control him. Saying shit he shouldn't, that was none of her concern. Nearly revealing shit she was unworthy of knowing. Where was this coming from? What was wrong with him? He had nothing to prove to her.

"No," Liv said, her haggard face steeling over again. "Say what you were going to say. The things you had to what? Do? Endure? But wasn't it a choice, Miraak? Or are you the only one allowed to feel like it wasn't?"

"It is not that simple –"

"Exactly. Sometimes you get a choice, sometimes you don't. Sometimes they're easy choices or they're really fucking hard. Or you find yourself in a situation where a choice is so damn complicated that it doesn't seem like a choice at all."

Miraak said nothing, had no rebuttal because he knew she was right, but he'd be damned if he admitted it out loud.

In the ensuing silence, Liv brought out a small glass vial from her knapsack, popped the bottle's cork and drank down the contents in one go. Afterward, she just stared down at the empty glass, slowly turning it over in her hands as if it were a piece of art that warranted a thorough inspection. The anger she had exhibited earlier was gone now, and Miraak sensed some measure of guilt in its place.

"You should have saved some of that potion, idiot," he said, the words sounding hollow and meaningless to his own ears. He needed to say something, anything, couldn't stand the awkward silence any longer. "You will need it for that wound."

Her gaze remained fixed on the bottle. "I have another." She sighed and brushed the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead. "Okay, look. I guess I was wrong...you know, to make assumptions, when I don't know shit about you." Her eyes lifted to him, squinting with renewed but mild anger. "But you don't know shit about me either."

Miraak scoffed. He had no intention of going easy on her even if she was trying, in her own stubborn way and with obvious difficulty, to make amends. "Was that supposed to be an apology? Surely you can do better."

"That's as good an apology as you deserve. Now, are you gonna stand there all day looking smug or are you gonna help me get this arrow out of my leg?"

"Ah, now I see. You are not sorry at all; you are merely trying to soften me up because you want my help."

Liv laughed at that, although it sounded strained. She was taking the pain surprisingly well. "As if anything could soften you up. I meant it, but think whatever you want." She opened her knapsack and began going through its contents again.

Miraak decided it was a fair point. Nothing could soften him; the priests, the dragons, they'd made damn sure of that. Softness was weakness; it could distract, be exploited, get you killed, get other people killed.

A flash of memories came unbidden to his mind, as faded as the one of his mother: a smile, pretty and impish; a hand, small and soft, taking his; a whisper in the dark.

Miraak banished them as easily as they had come to him and knelt down beside the Dragonborn, holding his hand out. "I will need a knife."

"For what, exactly?" Liv asked, looking at him suspiciously.

"Two reasons. To access the wound, first; I doubt you would be comfortable with taking your pants off."

Liv snorted. "Somehow I get the feeling it would be more for your benefit than mine. I mean, you can barely handle a woman flirting with you. You'd probably have a stroke if you saw one with her pants off."

At this point the woman was just asking for it, so Miraak obliged and pushed his thumb into the raw flesh around the buried arrow shaft. The reaction was instantaneous: every muscle in her body locked up, her face an image of exquisite agony.

When she was finished swearing, Miraak went on, "And I'm willing to bet the arrowhead is barbed." He allowed himself a small, pleased smile, knowing more pain for her was imminent. "It will need to be cut out."

"On second thought," Liv said through heaving breaths. "I don't think I want your help. You're enjoying this way too much."

Miraak shrugged. "You can try to do it yourself, but you will inevitably fail. It will require a steady hand, which I doubt you'll be capable of when you're in that much pain. You can barely suffer the wound being touched."

The creature scowled at him. "Touched, my arse. You jammed your thumb in there, arsehole, and you know it."

"You can allow me to do it or do it yourself. Your choices are limited, I'm afraid."

"Fine," Liv spat. "Do it, but you better not enjoy it. And on Akatosh, if you try anything or if I even think you're trying anything, I'll set your arse on fire."

"I would not dream of it," Miraak claimed with a smirk that said otherwise.