Dragonsong

AU-gust 2026: Dragonsong & Duskbound

Pairings: Miraak x OC

Words: 1845

Prompt: by @thepromptfoundry

Summary: Miraak mistakes Lilli for Mora’s ornament: a beautiful, frivolous, and witless man. Then she finds him correcting the work meant to free her from Apocrypha.

Content: AU, Female Miraak, Male Lilliandra, Pre-relationship, Enemies/Rivals to (eventual) Lovers, Misjudged First Impressions, Scholarly Rivalry, Flirting

Mora sends him as a distraction.

Miraak understands this almost at once.

There are no accidents in Apocrypha. No misplaced books, no doors opened by chance, no wandering paths that happen to deliver a stranger into the highest chamber of her Tower. Everything here moves according to an appetite older and more patient than mortal thought.

The Altmer man standing before her is therefore deliberate.

He is also absurd.

Tall enough that the proportions of the chamber do not diminish him. Golden from skin to eyes to the long mass of curling hair spilling over one shoulder. Rings decorate his fingers. Fine chains catch the sickly green light at his throat. Even his travelling robes have been cut to flatter the long line of him, though the hem bears black stains from Apocrypha’s waters.

He looks like something carried out of a Summerset court and placed incorrectly among the stacks.

He looks at Miraak’s mask then at her robes. He smirks.

AU-gust 2026: Dragonsong & Duskbound

Pairings: Miraak x OC, Miraak & OC, OC & OC

Words: 1833

Prompt: by @thepromptfoundry

Summary: Lilli leaves the table for tea and returns to find her seven-year-old daughter Ophelia interviewing a stranger for a place in their lives.

Content: Modern AU, Single Parent Lilli, Sign Language, Academic Flirting, Fluff, Banter, Kid Fic, Strangers to (Eventual) Lovers

Miraak notices the child watching him almost immediately. He ignores her for several minutes out of courtesy, or perhaps patience — the distinction matters less than it once might have.

She sits across the café with a pencil held between both hands and a blank page before her. Her mother works beside her, though poorly. He’s watched her reread the same passage often enough to know concentration has abandoned her.

The woman herself is difficult not to notice. Too tall for the café furniture. Golden hair gathered carelessly at the nape of her neck, several curls fallen loose around ears adorned with precious metal. She carries her exhaustion neatly, as though aware of it and unwilling to permit anyone else the inconvenience of seeing.

Her daughter sees, and so does he.

When the woman rises for another drink, the child waits until her back is turned. She then closes her sketchbook and crosses the room.

Miraak places a hand on his book when she begins to approach.

second base: torture

Chapter 9: A Chosen Day

Pairings: Miraak x Altmer OC, Male OC x Serana (QPR), everyone & daughter OC

Words: 6874

Summary

Lakeview Manor was never meant to be a nursery. After Miraak is resurrected to live freely on Nirn, he and Lilliandra are given one last impossible surprise: a daughter neither of them planned for, expected, wanted, or quite know how to love safely. There are no gods invited into Ophelia’s childhood. Only monsters, survivors, old wounds, and the fragile domesticity of dangerous people trying, in their own strange ways, to keep one small child whole. (Or: there are no fixes or redemptions for villains just because they now have a family.) A non-linear anthology narrative set 4E 203 and after.

Chapter Summary: After Elikar’s birthday, five-year-old Ophelia realises they have celebrated everyone’s day except Miraak’s. When she learns her father no longer remembers his birthday, she decides to find him a new kind of day to keep.

A/N: We've hit 500 hits! 😭😭 thank youuuuu

Miraak begins to think the danger has passed.

Then Ophelia looks at him. “When is yours?”

The room alters. Not by much. Not in any way a child can properly name. But Elikar stops turning the gifted stone between his fingers. Serana’s gaze flicks once toward Lilliandra.

Lilliandra becomes still, though not wounded. No, not that. Miraak knows the difference. He knows her face when grief finds a door. He knows her face when memory cuts. This isn’t quite either.

This is attention — careful, keen attention.

He feels all of it before he answers. “I do not remember.”

Ophelia blinks at him. It’s not the sort of answer she expects. He can tell by the way her face remains open, waiting for the rest of it. Waiting for him to amend himself into sense. “You forgot?”

“Yes.”

Her brow creases. “All of it?”

Miraak sets his cup down. “Yes.”

Ophelia looks troubled by this. Not frightened, but more that she’s simply confronted with a world arranged incorrectly. “But everyone has a birthday.”

“So, I have been told.”

“That means you have one.”

“That does not mean I know it.”

Ophelia glances toward Lilliandra, because to her, Lilliandra knows nearly everything. “That is your father’s question to answer,” she says gently.