#miraak x jia

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Miraak (apparently being a cringe and cheesy pathetic man who just got intimate and sweet with his soulmate for the first time): You are my Dragoness and I am your Priest. You are the only dragon I could ever truly worship.

Jia: 😳🫣🥰

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1, 3, 5 & 18 from the couples ask please ☺️💙 (although u don’t have to answer 18 if u don’t want to, either because of spoilers or anything like that)

Thank you so much for the ask, Blossom!!! Answering these had me rolling into Writing Mode™ again! 🥰 1. What do they think of each other's family? And how does the family feel?

Things are a bit weird in the case of Miraak and Jia since they both have no parents alive anymore (even though Miraak has already come across Jia's mother through his visions, and he may meet her father too, perhaps in a dream/vision again...👀). Jia's family are the Companions, as Jorrvaskr was the place she was born and grew up, so Vilkas, Farkas, and Aela are like siblings to her. Miraak, even though not openly showing it, feels more or less the same intimacy with Jia towards these three—and generally, he somehow seems to share common emotions, either towards those she loves or those she hates. The same goes for Jia; the bitterness Miraak still has towards his father, who sold him to the Dragon Cult, she can feel it inside her exactly the same (I will elaborate more on this in the story). As for the Companions, in the beginning, no one trusted Miraak—especially Vilkas, who was the most suspicious and quite jealous of him as his love for Jia is not limited to brotherly... BUT! As the story goes on, we will see the Companions reevaluating their opinions...🥰

3. What's their favorite thing to tease each other about?

I can definitely see Miraak teasing Jia about the alchemy ingredients she can shove into her mouth. One would say it's kind of a turn-off if your partner eats a Spider Egg or a Giant Toe or a Skeever Tail, but Miraak doesn't care, not really; he just stands there staring at her tasting her ingredients, noting down their effects on her notebook and then shamelessly laughing at her when she rushes to the bathroom in light's speed. 😂

As for Jia, I think she would tease Miraak's inability to fit on a bed or pass an entrance without knocking his head on the doorway. He has to be reminded to bend before entering a room. 😂

5. How do they sleep?

Ah, sappy question; my forte!

They love spooning! There's no need to define who's the big spoon and who's the little, I think it's quite obvious. 😂 It's a sleep position they both love, since it allows them to feel intimacy, a feeling they both secretly crave. I imagine Miraak passing his arms around her torso or back and Jia embracing his hands as well. 🥺

I have another sleep position in mind, where Miraak lies on his back, and she rests her head on his chest. That would absolutely work for them too!

18. Would they have kids together?

👀👀👀

I suppose I can reveal this as it doesn't somehow affect the plot of the main story, so yes! They will end up having a daughter!!! I told you this before, but I'm this person who shamelessly enjoys sappy, too-good-to-be-true endings, where the blorbos live happily ever after... (after too much angst, of course). 😂🥰

(From this tag game!)

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

❗Fanart Alert❗

The wonderful and talented @tesshere surprised me with this beautiful beautiful work of art of Tender Jiraak™ and OUGH—I can't STOP staring at it, my day was spent having a Major Case of Heart Eyes over this piece! 😍 Just look at Jia's fluffy fiery mane, her little freckles, the lovely pattern of her dress... and Miraak! his braids! his silver eyelashes and brows! his fur! his Ear!!! It's officially decided that my part snelf/part atmoran Miraak has slightly pointy ears after all!!! 😤

And that soft glow around them! Despite being so contrasting in powers, fire and ice, they're enveloped by the same light, which is so accurate lore-wise...🥰

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

"And when my body shall cease, my soul will still be yours. I swear, by my hope of heaven, I will not be parted from you [...] I am your Master, and you're mine. It seems I cannot possess your soul without losing my own." — Jamie Fraser, Outlander

Here's Jia, my Last Dragonborn, but this time I decided to give her company—her most beloved one at that! So, this is my rendition of Miraak as he appears in my fic; he is Atmoran with Snow Elf blood, and I like to think of him as the ice, the thunder, the winter personified, while Jia is quite the opposite: the sun, fire, and summer. They're my contrasting forces of nature who love each other very much, and they happen to be soulmates in every sense of the word, with the growing crescent moon being the symbol of their soul-bond! 🥰

(again, don't look at this way too closely, I'm only a beginner, and even more of a beginner when it comes to drawing men, specifically...🥹)

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

WIP definitely not Wednesday!

Hi, hi, hello, it's been a long time since I last did a WIP Whenever, but I wrote a lot today and I'm quite happy with myself! Things have been quite hectic currently, but words are finally word-ing so I'm grasping the chance to share a lil' something about ch22 of TPATD...👀

They lie there in silence, as still as a held breath, for what feels like forever. Miraak could stay beside her this way as long as she wanted him, till the rain ceased, till the sun came out again, or not at all. Or—or he could tell her stories from his childhood, those long nights in Atmora before the frost set in. He could tell her about roaming through Frostwood Forest, guided only by the moonlight that carved a ghostly path ahead of him; with shadows, both eerie and fantastic, lurking behind the dense cypresses and spruces that inspired him to spin epic sagas in his head and sing the fear away. He could recount how he found his shelter upon the snow, just as he does now with her, gazing up at the sky and counting the stars, always searching for the Lodestar that’d guide him home. He could describe how his own father sent him to hunt for the family in that unforgiving wilderness, ignoring—or perhaps choosing to ignore—that a boy greener than summer’s grass would likely fall prey to nature’s violence and never find his way back to Jylkurfyk. Tonight, he’d tell her anything. For her, he would at least try; no matter how it hurts—how it hurts to remember. But Jia rises to her feet, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. The rain and snow have soaked her through her garments, and wet strands of red hair cling to her forehead and cheeks like open wounds. After a little while, Miraak stands up with her. The relentless thunderstorm doesn’t spare him either, but it does little to physically affect him, as the First Dragonborn’s skin is more than resilient to it—it’s made by it. He’s unsure, when he unfastens his cloak and approaches her from behind until he stands tall above her shoulders, for the way she shrinks, jostling her head to the side to check the soft crunch of the sleet underfoot, is the blatant tell of her lingering turmoil. One small step more, and he freezes—her cold body trembles against his chest, yet she doesn’t otherwise pull away. Instead, she remains there, quietly seeking any warmth she can find and shivering helplessly. The little fool is too proud to ask for it aloud. As if a confirmation to his doubts, his arms instantly enfold around her, pulling her close as his cloak cascades over her, and he holds her there, his hands balled into fists upon her bosom. A shaky sigh escapes her when she senses his faint silvery stubble grazing her damp cheekbone, his voice murmuring in her ear—deep and rhythmic as always, like the chime of ancient church bells, so much so that when they sound, it feels like she converses with a God. “This... is no mere storm,” he tells her like he could divine the scrolls of the heavens right this very minute. “This is a growing rage that has been building up for a long, long time, and it had to be unleashed all within an hour. These clouds—racing wild across the sky and pouring out of their bellies all this rainstorm—are but rags torn by the hand of a wrathful god.” Her resolve begins to falter, the cracks in her armor showing. His gaze shifts to her, and he speaks in the language of their souls: “You have been brave tonight, soul of my soul. But you need to pretend no more... Not with me.”

Poor Jiraak... They truly live up to their "Soggy Kittens™" name with all this thunderstorm drenching them both... It's okay though, it's hot.

Okay, so, I'm tagging: @kiir-do-faal-rahhe, @thequeenofthewinter,

@miraakulous-cloud-district, @oblivions-dawn,

@blossom-adventures, @hircines-hunter and everyone who wishes to share something—don't forget to tag me back so I can see it! 💖 No pressure of course!

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

Jia: *dries out apple seeds* Did you know that apple seeds can actually poison you? 😼

Miraak: *Sweating Jordan Peele meme*

Jia: Oh, don't worry, these are for my spell jars. I didn't let them slip into your pie by accident...😼

Miraak: *stares at his half-eaten apple pie* ...why on Nirn did you have to say it like that?

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no, I don't think of Jia meeting Miraak's mom in Sovngarde while the former falls asleep under a tree, tired and wounded by her fight with Alduin. no, I don't think of how she manages to glimpse the wraithlike form of a woman she often dreamed of, long before she came forth as Dragonborn, and called "Mother". no, I don't think of said woman kneeling before her, healing any burns and injuries, looking at Jia's weary, golden eyes, and recognizing her. recognizing her not because of just slaying the World-Eater and saving the souls of the dead, but because she actually sees her son through the Last Dragonborn's eyes. her little boy who was born to carry the same glorious destiny once, failed it and was named Traitor, but unbeknown to everyone, contributed to passing it onto a girl who will be his promise of return and redemption personified, who will not only succeed to his forsaken legacy, but will also be his savior, their souls bound as one, 5000 years later.

and freydis knows her son lives again.

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I'm listening to 'Blood Upon the Snow' and aside from the fact that I rage in my cage at Hozier's voice (nothing new here), there are these lyrics that remind me so much of Jia and Miraak and Various Things related to them and their story... I mean, "The winter sunrise, red on white//Like blood upon the snow" and "No rainfall, no sunshine//No blood upon the snow" and "I’ve no more hunger now to see where the road will go//I’ve no more kept my warmth//Than blood upon the snow"—

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

My dear friend @miraakulous-cloud-district tagged me here (go check her post; there are some AMAZING face claims for Skyrim characters), to give me the perfect excuse to post more of my fic's casting choices/face claims, and damn will I do it, lest my mood lightens a bit while fooling around with my blorbos. (🙂)

I'll admit, I mostly imagine all the characters as they are in-game when I write them, so I will only post my Last Dragonborn and my rendition of Miraak. However, I'll definitely add more in the future—I already have some ideas!

1. I've said it before, but Eleanor Tomlinson as she played Demelza in Poldark is 100% my choice for my Jia—golden eyes and many freckles needed.

2. For my Miraak, I choose Henry Cavill as he was in the Witcher series where he played Geralt of Rivia. But, but, BUT! My Miraak is less bulky than Geralt (god forbid not so masculine; Cavill was dehydrated to play Geralt), has longer hair and his eyes are indigo-blue instead of yellow.

So, this is my Miraak in Apocrypha:

And this is my Miraak after Apocrypha:

@illumiera and @kiir-do-faal-rahhe, I think it's time for you to drop your Miraaks too. Let us simp all together.

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Hello, hii! 💖💖💖The drunken sailoress would like to know the answers for the following questions for the couple's ask!!

6. Who would ask the "would you love me if I were a worm?" question? How would their S/O answer?

8. Who is the big spoon? Little spoon?

11. Who is clingy?

22. What is something - either character - doesn't like about the other?

25. Do they have any pet names for one another?

33. Which one of them gives "that look" when they other is acting like a fool?

60. Are they willing to show PDA? If not, is there a reason?

62. How would outside characters describe their relationship?

74. Who's more likely to bail who out of jail? Would they give the other one shit for it?

85. Their S/O is tipsy. How do they handle it? (This is my favourite question hehehehhe)

97. How do they wake their S/O up? Is it difficult to rouse them?

Welcome, welcome! If the drunken sailor wants answers, then answers will be given! 💖💖💖

💕ask game💕

6. AH, THIS QUESTION WAS ONE OF MY FAVORITES. 😂

Look, you know Jia. You know her. She's an inquisitive little creature who likes dabbling with alchemy, eats the ingredients raw, just to see what they do, and has crafted a potion that instead of making her invisible, it made her clothes disappear. Of course she'd be the one who just goes, "Oh! That's a mushroom specimen I didn't know it existed... Let me just take a bite, just a tiny—", turns into a worm, and sends a message to Miraak to ask him if he'd love her that way. Miraak, who's familiar yet so done with her antics, simply answers: "Yes. What did you do."

8. Jia is relatively small in stature and even smaller next to Miraak—she's 165cm (thanks to her Imperial dad and the fact that she was born prematurely) and he's 203cm (Atmoran/Snow Elf heritage doesn't help when you don't want to end up like a giant). So, it can't really be otherwise: Jia is the little spoon, and Miraak is the big one! In the future, however, she'll spoon him herself, just for fun, and he likes it very much, it makes them both burst into laughter! Her feetsies don't even reach his ankles...🥺

11. OUGH, I found a Perfect Meme on Pinterest a few days ago regarding "clinginess", and it fits so much with those two!

yEAH, ANYWAY...

I'd say that they're both "clingy" to each other, in the sense that they feel "half" and "missing" when the other is not near... They won't openly admit it or create a fuss every time one is away from the other, or every time they just need their space alone, but they like it when the circumstances don't force them to stay apart for too long...🥰

22. This has been answered here! 👀

25. THANK YOU FOR THIS QUESTION, I LOVE IT! 🫂 😭

They have MANY pet names already, and the more time passes, the more they become creative with those (I HOPE I'M NOT FORGETTING SOMETHING HERE HELP—)

Jia calls Miraak "qostrun", which means 'thunderstorm' in Dovahzul, given his affinity for winter's magic, "iilahil", which means 'moonheart', because his face and hair are very pale (and also, Miraak's mother's sobriquet was 'Snowhart', so unconsciously Jia calls him with a similar nickname!), "lokzii" which means 'sky spirit' or what we'd call 'angel' in Christianity, given to how he looked like and what he did to revive her as a newborn, and both in the AU and in TPATD she'll end up calling him "Fen" or "Fenrir", which is his original birth name.

Miraak calls Jia "vahlokraan" in Dovahzul, and it can be read in two different ways: as vah and lokraan, 'spring-bird' or what we'd call 'swallow', and vahlok and raan, 'guardian animal' (the word raan seems to etymologically derive from rah, which means 'god' probably due to the Ancient Nords' animal totem worship, so it's more like 'guardian-god'). Miraak purposely means both senses! He also calls her "silsogaal", which means 'soul-gem' for Plot Significance™, "yolsil", 'fire-soul', "shulkun" and "shulselein", 'sunlight' and 'sun of [the] world' respectively, "silsesili", which means 'soul of my soul', and he will call her "Elettra" or "golsez" which means 'amber' in Dovahzul (just as the name Elettra does in Old Cyrodilic), by the end of the fic, where he claims her own birth name!

There is one more that I adore, but it's very spoiler-y, so I just gnaw my keyboard and wait...

33. I think the only look they'd give when the other starts acting like a fool is the look of approval! 😂 Both Miraak and Jia are very reserved and kind of formal, so letting go of that and acting a bit foolishly is always such a pleasant and unexpected occurrence—it means they're happy and free!

60. The truth is, they don't go too much PDA—Miraak is maybe more 'open' concerning displays of affection, with his expressions of love also exhibiting the true pride he feels for himself for being Jia's partner and his need to show it to the world. Jia is a bit more reserved than him in that aspect, so she'd show her affection when she had the privacy to do so—in her personal moments, she is very expressive in her love, though! Of course, if her counterpart is hurt or in danger or does something badass with his powers and turns her on? That's another topic...😇

62. Like worlds colliding into one, like one ray of light refracted by two mirrors, like ice and fire, but instead of the one element destroying the other, they actually fuel one another's power against every law, like an everlasting solar eclipse indicating that this impossible junction becomes possible for them. They look so much alike in everything they do, that those around them can really overlook how they differ physically and get confused, thinking they see the same person before them...👀

74. You know, this is a question that fits 100% the AU I'm preparing and less to TPATD-verse because Jia is a master thief and doesn't get easily caught while thieving, and Miraak, even though not vibing too well with the law, is too old and tired for getting himself into shenanigans. In the AU though, both Jia and Miraak are very likely to end up in jail together, and it is Jia who usually initiates the trouble, pulls poor Miraak with her, and they get into Situations... I imagine them being thrown into jail, Jia laughing her ass off and enjoying this, and Miraak chastising her for it, but damn would she ever listen to what he says...😂

85. They simply enjoy it, whether they're both tipsy or one of them! I mean, a flushed-faced, overly jolly, and free-of-inhibitions Jia or Miraak, where they do nothing but sing at the top of their lungs, use Throw Voice and mock people with it, switch languages mid-sentence and slur everything in the process, confess their most deep-seated feeling and then laugh it off and continue With Their Business, Miraak doing Dumb Shit with his frost magic (maybe building a palace and/or a snowman like Elsa from Frozen😂)—in fact, I'd love to see them both tipsy one day!

97. It isn't really difficult to rouse them, no! They're not usually heavy sleepers (and rarely need too much sleep, given their Dragonborn-ism), and I think this is understandable, especially for someone like Jia and Miraak who suffer from constant nightmares. They both like to wake up early in the morning—Jia has her routine of baking her pies and feeding her swallows, and Miraak loves to rouse before the sun dawns so that he can marvel at it peeping out the Throat of the World first things first before he goes along with his day...🥰

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

1, 12, 23 & 40 for the OC Relationship asks ☺️💙

Oh, thank you so much for these dear Blossom!!! 🥰

💕ask game💕

Who fell first? Who fell harder?

Ah, that's a very good question to which I'm not sure of the answer... 🤔 If you ask them, I think they'll tell you that they both fell hard for each other at the same time (aka when Miraak dramatically took off his mask and they gazed upon each other's faces in Apocrypha for the first time), but in my humble opinion, I'd say that Miraak fell first, but Jia fell a bit harder... And damn will she prove it throughout her story...🥺

12. What is something their S/O does that makes them flustered?

Jia gets flustered very easily, so Miraak doesn't have to try very hard, really. She mostly gets flustered when he starts talking to her in Dovahzul and/or Atmoran, when he unfolds his insight into various things, when he gets nerdy, in short. Jia is very sapiosexual, she's attracted by knowledge and intelligence so Miraak Just Talks, and she leers at him with a Major Case of Heart Eyes. Miraak, on the other hand, gets flustered at her slightest touch—accidental or intended, it doesn't matter. Jia skims her fingers on him and he just blue-screens. He also flusters when she stares at him (which is a thing she does very often because she likes analyzing him under a microscope); Miraak has a terrible weakness for her eyes, so them being stuck on him for too long is like how Ron Weasley told it: "you're gonna suffer, but you will be happy about it".

23. Who said "I love you" first?

They haven't said outright "I love you" to each other yet, but they both have shown it through their actions, more or less. Jia has literally sung him a love song as an implication of her feelings, and Miraak has nearly outdone his abilities in healing her friends and protecting her home (not to mention what he did to save her life when she was a newborn, when he didn't even consciously know who she was, and what she will mean to him 26 years later...🥲). They will do a whole lot more in the course of their story that'll really surpass any words, but to answer the question: Jia will say it first; Miraak will say it too eventually, but Jia will be the first to utter it after a moment they'll share that will mean much to her...🥰

40. What is a song that reminds you of the OCs' relationship?

A beautiful question that has been answered here! 👀

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

Jiraak OC relationship ask: 5, 31, 32, 38, 40, 61 and 100! (only if it’s no trouble! I’m incredibly nosy :3)

I LOVE NOSY!!! BE NOSY ALL YOU LIKE!!! Thank you so much for asking about my stupid blorbos!!! 💖🥺

💕ask game💕

5. What is something they like to do together?

Ah, many things! Firstly, I can see them enjoying learning from each other since they're both very inquisitive—Jia teaches Miraak alchemy, while he teaches her magic, mostly restoration and alteration. They like cooking together (Miraak's not there yet, but he tries okay; he loves eating though! 🥲), and they even like to stay close in comfortable silence; I promise, though, Jia loves it when listens to him humming Atmoran shanties and/or psalms from his Dragon Priest era! Having been out of Apocrypha, she knows he'd appreciate walks in the sun and picnics in the frosty woods by Heljarchen Hall, as well as gazing at the aurora and the stars at night, feeding the birds nestling in her roof tiles, tending the flowers in her garden, and generally, being reintroduced to the world with her helping him remember every single detail...🥰

31. How would they describe one another.

Due to the nature of their soul bond (which hasn't been clarified completely in my fic yet...👀) I can only imagine them describing one another the way Emily Bronte did it in Wuthering Heights, which is to say not so romantic, but with a tint of pain and inevitability instead:

“He is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. If all else perished and he remained, I should still continue to be, and if all else remained, and we were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger. He’s always, always in my mind; not as a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.”

32. Can they communicate private thoughts whilst in company? If so, how?

I mean,,, they can read each other's minds if they try hard enough! There's a scene in my fic where Miraak just. skims through Jia's memories and almost uncovers her worst fear (wow, rude much, Miraak? 😤). Also, they tend to recognize each other's mannerisms. For example, Jia has very specific ways she moves when she's nervous, angry, excited, etc, and Miraak, being very observant, knows how to interpret them even if she can't speak her mind at a specific moment, and vice versa.

38. What would be their ideal evening in?

So, both in Heljarchen Hall and Breezehome, Jia has purposely left a piece of her wooden canopy a little open (just so, she can't stand the cold!), so the light of the night sky always slips right into her room. I imagine an ideal evening in would be her lying in bed with Miraak, both moonbathed, talking to each other, discussing everything, good and bad, tales and real segments of their lives, until the night eventually turns into day, and instead of starlight/moonglow, they are cloaked by the warmth of the sunlight and birbs' chirps...🥰

40. THE OLD WITCH SLEEP AND THE GOOD MAN GRACE BY THE AMAZING DEVIL.

Their shared trauma, their pain, their despair, their attempts to give strength to one another ["You're better than this" He says as a hand slaps my face and I stand And say, "No good man grace" I can't do this (you can)] AND ["Oh, sleep now," oh, she pleads "You're not a coward 'cause you cower You're brave because they broke you Yet broken still you breathe So breathe, breathe, just breathe"]

Not to mention the "'Cause you are in the earth of me", which for Plot Significance makes me jump around like a monkey. Ough. Just Ough...

61. How would they describe their S/O in one word?

Miraak for Jia: ember (a smouldering one...👀)

Jia for Miraak: angel (a bit fallen and corrupted but an angel nonetheless 😅)

100. Make a meme of this ship.

I am a bad Meme Maker myself, but I stumbled upon a Perfect Jiraak Meme on Pinterest, which is this right here and has a very "give me your hand" "I'll stain you" "I'll take it" vibe:

This also goes either way, for both.

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

I was tagged by my dearest @miraakulous-cloud-district to fill this cute template for ocs, so I did make two templates for Jia and her Miraak (since he's clearly become an oc of mine while writing him...😌)!

Now, I'm not really sure who to tag, since I'm afraid I recently bothered my mutuals with plenty of tags in tag games, so I think I'll just leave this open, and I'm 'tagging' anyone who sees it and wants to do it (just remember to tag me back so I won't miss it)! 💖

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

Ocs as song lyrics!

I was tagged by the lovelies @bunniletto and @miraakulous-cloud-district (thank you both so much! 💖) to offer my ocs their Signature Song™ so I decided to go for it with my Jia and her Miraak (he is an oc, let us not repeat ourselves on this).

For Jia, I choose the lyrics of the song Breath of Life by Florence and The Machine. It's clearly her by the time she learned she was the Last Dragonborn—while her fierce dragon soul craved to live and devour, Jia, the human, had just gotten out of the most traumatic experience of her life, and she doesn't quite know... whose side she is on? Is she a dovah or a human with a hollow plain heart?

"I was looking for a breath of life A little touch of heavenly light But all the choirs in my head sang no (I believe it) To get a dream of life again A little vision of the start and the end But all the choirs in my head sang no"

"And I only needed one more touch Another taste of devouring rush And I believe, I believe it so"

"Whose side am I on, whose side am I? Whose side am I on, whose side am I?"

"And my heart is a hollow plain For the devil to dance again And the room was too quiet"

For Miraak, I choose the lyrics of the song Seven Devils by Florence and The Machine (again). It's the song he's murmuring while rebelling against the Dragon Cult, hands down—the first verse is dedicated to his fellow Priests and their Dragon masters, the second is pointed toward himself, Herma-Mora, and the inevitable near-death experience with his brother by choice, Vahlok, and the third... The third may also be referring to the continuation of his existence, in some other Era, approximately 5000 years ahead...👀

"Holy water cannot help you now Thousand armies couldn't keep me out I don't want your money I don't want your crown See, I've come to burn your kingdom down"

"Seven devils all around you Seven devils in your house See, I was dead when I woke up this morning I'll be dead before the day is done Before the day is done"

"They can keep me out 'Til I tear the walls 'Til I save your heart And to take your soul"

That was very fun! Now, I'm not really sure who to tag, so I leave this open for anyone who sees it and wants to do it. Consider yourselves tagged y'all! 🥰

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

TES Summer Fest Day 3: Starlit

You'll Be In My Heart

Summary:

I will tell you the story of the traitorous Dragon Priest who ever truly served one single dragon and no other—the woman he fell in love with; his own Dragoness, the sun-eyed bride of flame, the one who redeemed him from a death everlasting. But in every tale, little one, this one has also a twist: it was he who was first destined to rescue her from a demise, even if they both found out many years later.

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ Guided by the moonglow and a starlit sky, the First Dragonborn comes to realize that not even the confines of Oblivion can prevent his spirit from finding its evermore destiny.

Rating&Warnings: Teen And Up Audiences. Some (mild) descriptions of the near-death of a newborn child, and some fleeting references concerning changes in Miraak's physical appearance/emotional state in Apocrypha.

Wordcount: 2,006 words

@tes-summer-fest, thank you for this lovely event! 🥰

This one-shot is below the cut and you can find it posted in Ao3, too!

There are no stars in Apocrypha.

Miraak, the First Dragonborn of an Aedra and the First Servant of a Daedra in equal measures, knows this all too well. Much to his despair, he has conceded to it for eternities unending now—or is it perhaps hours, minutes, or mere heartbeats of a second ever since a reel of obsidian-black ink engulfed and swiped him forever from a place asunder in two and smeared in blooded snow? This, he could never really say; time is a thing most whimsical in Oblivion, anyhow. When he is courageous enough to raise his eyes from the intricate filigree full of scattered pages below, to this caricature of a sky aloft, all he damns himself with is a canopy green and swirling, like a poisoned typhoon, like a polluted abyss, and in the place of the moon and stars he once marveled, named, and dreamed under somewhere in Frostwood's ice-sprinkled tundra, now there are only the boneless limbs, and the demon-like, sleepless, ever-watching eyes of the Woodland Man, as his fellow Atmorans called him; the Gardener of Memories, of Knowledge, of Fate—the Gardener of Men, is his most precise name.

His body does not function in Apocrypha; his heart does not beat, and so the blood in his veins does not flow—instead, it lies stagnant with no other option but to adjust with the ink puddles beneath his feet, altering him into a Seeker clad in the tainted flesh of a death-pale man, little by little. His body does not hurt in Apocrypha; if he ever felt any sensation, it was nothing more than the phantom pain one feels upon a limb they have already lost. His body has no need for sleep in Apocrypha; his eternal damnation is to always remain awake, watch how everything changes around him, and how it remains the same.

But, why now, does Miraak feel something changing? 

For the first time, a pain keen and penetrating and endless rends through him. It reaches the very depths of his dragon soul that wails its reverberating suffering across Oblivion, it carves him like a razor with a scalding and rusty tip, and it knocks his breath out. As he falls to his knees that crack under the weight of his body, his heart thunders like the drums of a tribal war dance beneath his chest, down his ribs, in his ears, in his face, in every fiber of his being, everywhere, everywhere, setting his blood alight and moiling. 

On his knees as he is, his neck and head jerk up against his will as though in a forced slumber, in a trance, his hood and mask slipping and clattering to the stale floor, freeing his waist-long all-tangled hair, and before his bottomless eyes roll in the back of his head, he manages to catch a thing most curious: the evermore swirl of Apocrypha's sky has now ceased, the immense double-pupils of Herma-Mora nowhere to be seen, and everything is frozen and standstill and put out.

_____________________________________________

The extinguished light slowly returns to him, and Miraak is on his feet, feeling no pain this time—on the quite contrary, all he feels is an unexplained calmness, that sort of peace one makes with themselves when they have a clear purpose to fulfill, an inescapable destiny written in the skies before they are even born. Though, there is a more crucial difference now: that light growing its sheen above his head, is not of Apocrypha, its sick green shade is no more, neither on him nor anywhere about. 

That light is a delicate, silken caress, limning and bathing him in a milky luster; it reflects flawlessly on his marble skin, burns up the ebony pools of his eyes with a silver flare like a celestial fire, and mirrors his ashen-white hair like an iridescent halo, until it becomes one and whole with his very being, and he looks like—like a lokzii, the eternal entourage of the Divines in Aetherius.

That light, is the light of a starlit needlework, embellished with smaller and larger seams, each representing a distant luminary and various constellations connecting the galactic dots between them. The starglow mingles with the radiant rays of a moon so full that, for an instant, Miraak thinks it is not a mere moon but the heart of an Aedra, expanded and centered inside the night sky's velvet embrace.

And there are stars anew. 

Real ones, he then realizes in awe.

Is he—is he back to Nirn? So soon? He has just set in motion his pursuit of enchanting the Skaal Stones with his Bend Will, so his hypnotic influence on the people of Solstheim in toiling them all day and all night long, fueling his return with the sacred ancient power of the All-Maker could have been... not nearly enough to help him escape the confines of Oblivion yet!

"I am lost and adrift," he looks up at the moon and speaks to it as if it were a living person, a fleshed guide. "It has been millennia since I last marveled at the sky, you see, and I cannot recall how it is to follow the path of the stars. Care to show me the way?"

And as if heeding his plea, a moonbeam flashes above him and starts to forge the route—or maybe it is his feet that begin to move first, and he becomes an astral walker with a destination untold but predestined and familiar-to-soul all the same, damning on the boundaries of his hellish prison and spanning through Nirn. As the case may be, the stellar canopy overhead will burnish brighter, as though all the stars together suddenly went supernova, momentary converting the night into day, the moon into the sun, when Miraak finds himself by the heavy, wooden gates of a building—a mead-hall that has the shape of a lavish... longship, a shield-adorned one at that, exactly like the ones once swayed upon the sun-shimmered seawater of Jylkurfyk's harbor; like the ones heroes-of-old sailed across the Sea of Ghosts to meet their coveted plunder at the other side.

He cannot help but recognize the midnight firmament's apparent signal to him, and so Miraak passes through these gates, stepping inside the mead-hall. Like an intangible specter he wanders within, and even though his view continues to be softly wreathed by the white-blue moonglow that escorted him to this place, he is completely indiscernible by every person dwelling there. His hands may graze against theirs as he glides his way amongst them, though he is naught but a whispering zephyr to them, a wisp of shadow, and they are but scarcely limned figures, fleeting forms in his eyes. 

Everyone and everything, ephemeral thready presences all around. Except—

Except for a newborn girl, her mirage so clear to his vision as though he faces his reflection in a grand soul gem; a girl with few red tufts upon her delicate crown, set in an oak-timbered cradle chiseled into wolven motifs, next to a bed that smells of blood, wolfsbane, and primrose. A girl that does not get to be held and protected by her mother's loving arms, nursed from her breast, and put to sleep by her soothing lullaby; all because—because Arkay claims her first.

Death has stretched its bloody talons towards the child who just met the world outside the womb, though earlier than she was meant to—always so hasty, always so impatient, the little fool, Mother Mara have mercy on her—and thus she bears a tiny and too-frail body, a listless surrender on her limbs, an ill pallor on her cheeks. A lily, she is; an ivory bud on the edge of withering.

This infant will be dead before the night is done. 

Be not afeared, soothes Miraak as he bends over the crib—it is his very dragon soul that it is speaking at this moment, while his human voice does not make a sound, his lips, not even a stir—death's darkness shrinking aside, life-light prevailing. I will tell you the story of the traitorous Dragon Priest who ever truly served one single dragon and no other—the woman he fell in love with; his own Dragoness, the sun-eyed bride of flame, the one who redeemed him from a death everlasting. The knuckles of his hand brush the child's soft cold cheek in the most feathery caress. But in every tale, little one, this one has also a twist: it was he who was first destined to rescue her from a demise, even if they both found out many years later.

And then, silent like a prayer and thunderous like a battlecry, he says: Whatever Light I have left in me, let it pass to her; let her be saved and live.

If the stellar-burst he saw by the time he found the gates of the mead-hall was like a supernova of all stars exploding as one, the forceful blast he sees after these very words leave his dovahsil is equivalent of— 

Realms crashing together, galaxies spinning in interstellar dust, nebulae forming new stars over and over again—

Newborn constellations—a shimmering crescent with a fraction of its disk slowly illuminated by direct sunlight, until all Miraak beholds is the moon and the sun united, bound together, rising up up up the starlit sky, finding its place amidst the constellations of the Ritual and the Lord— 

Uncreated Light that blinds and redeems him all at once— 

And in the end?

In the end, two eyes previously sealed shut, now open wide.

Two eyes, of pure molten sun. 

_____________________________________________

A violent inhale plunges down Miraak's lungs, chest heaving and falling by vigorous turns, and he blinks his strained eyes. For some unfathomable reason that he cannot recall no matter how much cognitive effort he puts forth, he is not standing on his feet; instead, he is sprawled upon Apocrypha's moist pages, his body numb and drained, his muscles aching and shaking as though he'd just traversed miles and miles away. His hair is free, his face is uncovered, hood and mask gone, even if he always made sure to conceal his countenance—no, his shame—ever since he set foot in this nightmare.

He bares his teeth and glares at the familiar abyss floating above his head, to his left, his right, behind, in front of him, and everywhere all at once. "Why am I like this?" He croaks, trying to get himself up, but the effort goes in vain, his legs giving up and falling to his back again. "What have you done to me, you foul bastard?"

And while Miraak would have expected some ambiguous but no less sharp rejoinder, Herma-Mora merely narrows his prominent gigantic eyeball in a way that makes him appear infuriated, as if... as if he likewise does not know what to respond to Miraak's demand. As if he is just as baffled as his Servant. 

"I am the Demon of Knowledge, Guardian of the Unseen, Knower of the Unknown. No knowledge can evade me forever," he rumbles in the end, almost like he's struggling to assure himself, of his own influence on his very sphere; one would even say he sounds fretful. "Have no fear, dear Champion, and this one shall reveal itself, sooner or later." 

Twenty-six years later, a woman will read a Black Book and fall into Apocrypha. She will be stunned by the Dragon Priest's spells in what they both thought to be their first encounter, and down at his feet as she is, she will raise her face and look at him straight in the eye—and for the second time after five millennia, his heart will beat once more. Twenty-six years later, she will kiss his lips and confess her soulful love with a bard's ballad. 

Titles, triumphs, praise, power, and pain. All in the shape of hers.

A woman so different and yet so same as him.

Death-grazed, fire-blessed, a clawed-and-teethed spirit.

A Dragoness—

Sun-eyed.

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

hello! I give you 💌 and 🔥 for Jia and Miraak! 💖

💖ask game💖

💌 : How would they plan a romantic evening for a significant other?

Jia: Living in Heljarchen Hall, there's plenty of space for Jia to plan a romantic idyllic evening outdoors—she and Miraak are both very attuned to nature, after all. I imagine her baking her favorite snowberry or juniper berry tarts, lavender dumplings, or crunchy bread warm from the oven with some fresh cheese, along with apple juice and later on, ale or wine to drink, she packs them all together inside her basket and plans their picnic! She will spread her blanket on the tundra (in a spot where they can marvel at the Throat of the World) and will demand Miraak to take off his shoes, just as she will, and sit by her side on the blanket, together enjoying their meals and their drinks, talking, and joking with each other... 🥰

Miraak: In continuance to Jia's romantic evening, Miraak will patiently wait for the sun to fall, so he will be able to take her to a spot where the cypresses are so stout and high that they hide the light of the moons and is completely dark. Then, he will ask her to lie on the earth, and they'll look up at the night sky together. The beautiful sparkling stars, Kyne's Lights, the constellations under which they were born—Jia's the Lord, Miraak's the Ritual—and who knows, amidst the various constellations they might be able to discern their own as well, their crescent moon... 🥰

I can see this romantic evening ending up being quite intimate...👀

🔥 : What’s a surefire way to make your OC get flustered?

Jia: She gets flustered at the slightest compliment she possibly receives (and receives more than she can handle from her Miraak). It doesn't matter whether it's for something in her looks or something she has a skill in doing, such as alchemy or cooking. She receives flattery about anything, and has this exact pattern of behaving: her leg will start jiggling, or she'll start tapping her foot, and there'll be a very noticeable flush, creeping from her chest until her face, and ears, and she becomes as red as her hair, the poor thing… 🥺

Miraak: Miraak is as bad as Jia in being flustered. He is very proud and a bit insecure/afraid to let this be seen, maybe because during his days as a Dragon Priest his face was Konahrik, an expressionless mask, so every emotion was being suppressed, even forbidden to show. But now that he doesn't wear any kind of mask on his face, they all get to see how expressive he truly is, as every single word of kindness, intimacy, and compliment can make him flustered/awkward/grateful, a mix of emotions, really. Besides, the times he's experienced kind words in his life can be limitedly counted, so he receives a compliment/a nice gesture/an intimate touch from his counterpart? His eye start twitching, and his moon-pale cheeks are magically sun-warmed! 🥺