Skyrim One-Shots

Miraak x Reader(Female) ~A Meeting of the Begining and the End~

The door rattled behind you as you entered, dark armor covered in snow.

A growl echoed in rented room.

"You're late," was the warning from your senior, a snarl on his face. "I had expected you would treat an elder with respect."

You ripped your mask off your face, chucking it across the room faster than the wind, hood falling as your chest heaved up and down.

Tears of pure fury pricked your eyes, words replaying in your head over and over- all you wanted was to desperately purge them, to lash out and throw a tantrum and destroy this entire city, and yet you kept yourself contained.

Mirrak watched as you slammed yourself against the thick wall, fists balled so hard he was surprised none of your fingers broke. He watched through it all, as you went through the waving anger of being treated like a tool, like a mere slave.

You finally seemed to shake it off, running a hand through your hair that had become messy from the fall of your hood and the tearing of your mask.

He raised a brow.

You smiled, a sharp, hateful look that only a Dragonborn pulsing with rage could make.

"I do just love this city," you forced out, slamming your ass on the chair across from his, his posture slacked cockily while your back bent against the back of the wooden chair. 

He narrowed brilliant blue eyes, blond Atmorian hair that ran for gods knew how long tucked underneath his grey tunic as he shifted to rest strong-boned elbows on the table between the both of you.

"You are being used, young one."

Your eyes whipped to his, both shame and anger flickering in them. "I do not need to be told, Priest. There is no civil way to argue with those who are twisted enough to believe they above everyone in the world."

"Ah, the Bear of Markarth, the man of the century. I did get the impression from my readings he was a fine man making terrible choices, but from you here in front of me, I can assume not."

"He deserves no more attention," you declared stiffly, shaking your head. "I apologize for throwing you on a boat with merely a piece of paper, elder one. I have many things on my mind."

He chuckled. "I had assumed. Your writing is neat, at least."

There was a silence between the both of you that followed.

After a solid minute of stillness, you sighed.

"I... I do not know how to act with one of my own kind," you admit, frowning. "You look down on me, and yet it is so different from all I have encountered. I do not feel judged, pushed aside like waste. It is...It is so challenging to grasp."

"You are a well-mannered young character, ____. You are humble and wise for such a juvenile mind, it is baffling, much less for the last Dragonborn. Truly, I am pleased to be of your presence, it is calm and collected despite your situation and fierce temper as part Dragon. I too find words hard to grasp."

You snorted. "Don't start turning polite now just because I saved your ass, Mirrak."

He scowled. "I was being truthful."

"In this age, that's called being an arse-kisser."

Mirrak growled, "You, little one, are too good at pushing the wrong levers."

"It's my face," you stated.

He recoiled, confused.

"I have a resting jackass face."