Elder Scrolls One-Shots (Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Fanfiction)

Mannequin

The Dragonborn looked over pile in her hands and sighed. She would never wear or use these items. They were the legacy of the First Dragonborn. This was all that was left of him, all of what had been allowed to return to Nirn.

The woman placed the pile of clothes and weapons on a dresser, pausing just a moment before picking up Miraak's robe. It was made of an unidentifiable but high quality material. The cloth was soft but also sturdy. The Dragonborn could feel the power of the enchantments on the robe.

The female warrior felt the urge to try it on but she dismissed it. It felt wrong to wear the belongings of a dead man, the only other person who had been like her. Though she hated what Miraak had done, she respected what he was. A Dragonborn. The very First. Chosen to be a hero but had somehow been corrupted.

The Dragonborn did not wish to use Miraak's weapons or armor but she did not want to leave them to rot in some chest somewhere. She didn't want to give them away either, feeling that all three of these choices were disrespectful to her defeated enemy.

The only thing the warrior could think of was to place them on one of the mannequins in Severin Manor, which now belonged to her. Miraak's legacy would stay on Solstheim, where he had spent thousands of years trying to return to. It would be displayed in a respectful way. The Dragonborn felt this was the best choice for now.

With that in mind, the female warrior began to dress the model. When she was finished, the woman stepped back and looked the figure over. She shivered. Covered as it was in Miraak's clothing, the mannequin looked like it could come to life at any moment.

The Dragonborn wondered if this was a good idea. The figure was unnerving in its lifelikeness. It was too late now though, as she was almost done. It wasn't like she used this house much anyway so she wouldn't have to be near the model often.

The Dragonborn picked up Miraak's staff next, setting it into the weapon rack near the model's right hand. The woman turned away to grab the final piece, Miraak's sword, but froze when she heard a curious sound. Movement, the creaking of leather. Then the rattling of metal.

She began to turn back and saw something move from the corner of her eyes. She reacted just in time to to avoid the golden staff aimed at her head. She jumped back in a defensive position and froze once more, this time in shock. She inhaled sharply and her eyes widened at the sight of the mannequin moving on its own. The figure glowed with ethereal light as it raised the staff once more.

Fear beginning to take hold, the Dragonborn Shouted on instinct, her powerful Voice sending the mannequin flying into the wall behind it. She heard it shatter, the staff to falling from its limp hand. It lay there brokenly as the light faded from around it.

The Dragonborn stared at the broken figure in bewilderment. What in Oblivion was that? She dashed to the downed mannequin and picked off all of Miraak's belongings. She quickly tossed them into a chest and locked it tight. The warrior then shoved it underneath several other crates and boxes.

Greatly unnerved, the Dragonborn hastily left the manor. She decided she'd be staying in the Retching Netch tonight. The woman would deal with the mess she left behind tomorrow. As she walked to the inn, the warrior wondered what would have happened had she tried on Miraak's belongings. She shuddered at the thought.