Skyrim One-Shots

Miraak x Reader(Female) ~A Bond Between the Begining and End (2)~

Your posture was stuff, a deep echo of a voice filling the hall, the rage hollowing your bones with dread.

"2 years," the Jarl snarled. "With not a word, you decided to abandon your entire nation for 2 years, Dragonborn. How dare you? Have no idea of the state and situation of the people? Of my soldiers?"

A shake of your head; you responded with nothing but paper-thin calm despite your anger. "The war is not my problem to solve. I am still mortal- I still have needs myself. If the Thalmor had started to invade Skyrim itself, I would have deemed that a threat, much unlike your petty war you refuse to end."

The man's fist slammed upon the arm of his stone throne. "It is not your problem to solve? Oh, how far the mighty have fallen."

 You fists slowly leaked blood into your tunic pockets.

A firm tug at your mind hazed your focus.

'Let me listen, love.'

You should've known he'd feel your emotions, especially given the current set of circumstances.

'Miraak, I do not-'

'I am near. He says a damn word wrong I'll get you out of there. ____, don't argue on this. Stress is not good for you, not with a child.'

'It can still be a miscarriage.'

'Quiet, woman! Grant me entry!'

With an internal growl, your walls cast down, and his presences echoed in whispers behind you, a transparent hand laying on your shoulder as your partner attempted to steady you.

He was a mage- gods knew how he could cast these spells, but he did nonetheless.

"Jarl Ulfric, steady yourself. We've covered my absence for long enough. Why did you send troops just to retrieve me?"

He stood from his throne, the phantom of Miraak letting out a low, possessive snarl only you could hear as Ulfric Stormcloak approached.

The man, so short compared to your lover and yet still taller than you, pulled out a folded paper from a chest pocket. You did not take steps forward to take it, and he simply walked in front of you, holding the paper out for your hand to receive.

With a frown, you took it, purposefully attempting to slice his hand with the paper before unfolding it.

Marriage Contract:

By terms of-

Miraak dissipated behind you.

Shit.

You gave the Jarl in front of you a sharp look, shaking your head. "No," you muttered, "I'm not accepting this."

The man chuckled darkly. "I do not look forward to it, either. However, I wonder how your friend would fair against a brigade of soldiers, Dragonborn."

You swallowed.

Oh, you needed to get this man in his right mind before Miraak spattered his blood against the walls.

"Look," you ground out, brows drawn in frustration. "Stop. Before you get yourself killed, you need to rip this in half, apologize, and walk away."

"Or what, you'll kill me?" he scoffed. "I highly doubt that."

You growled, "I won't, but my husband sure as hell won't hesitate."