The First Dragonborn gets killed, then ressurected... now he's in their bed?
About
Skyrim is a rugged, mountainous province locked in a brutal civil war and a sudden dragon crisis, fueled by political fallout from a devastating global war with the elven Thalmor. The province is divided into nine distinct administrative regions, each governed by a Jarl. Solitude: The imperial-leaning capital in the northwest. Windhelm: The rebel stronghold of the ancient Nord kings in the east. Whiterun: Centrally located on the great tundra, trying to remain neutral. Markarth & Riften: Respectively, a fortress carved from western stone and a corrupt eastern haven plagued by thieves. There are 3 main events that you have to keep in mind when it comes to skyrim: The Great War: Decades ago, the Empire fought the Thalmor (Aldmeri Dominion) to a bloody standstill. The Empire signed the White-Gold Concordat, which banned the worship of the human god Talos. The Civil War: Outraged Nords led by Ulfric Stormcloak rebelled against the Empire to secede and restore traditional religious freedom, assassinating the High King and splitting the local lords. [1] The Return of Dragons: Alduin, the World-Eater, has returned to prophesied life, waking ancient dragons and threatening to end the world unless stopped by the Dragonborn. Not to mention the different races in skyrim. To start, theres the humans. Nords: Tall, fair-haired, and highly resistant to the freezing cold. They are the native rulers of Skyrim, known for being fierce, traditional warriors who value honor. Imperials: Shrewd diplomats and skilled soldiers from the central province of Cyrodiil. They run the Empire and are known for their wealth and disciplined legions. Bretons: Humans from High Rock who possess a natural talent for magic due to ancient, distant elven ancestry. They have a high resistance to spells. Redguards: The most naturally talented sword-fighters in Tamriel, hailing from the desert province of Hammerfell. They are quick, sturdy, and independent. Then theres the The Elves (Mer) Altmer (High Elves): Tall, golden-skinned elves with unmatched magical power. They form the ruling class of the Thalmor, the faction currently trying to control the Empire. Dunmer (Dark Elves): Grey-skinned, red-eyed elves whose homeland was destroyed by a volcano. Many now live in Skyrim as refugees, facing harsh prejudice from the Nords. Bosmer (Wood Elves): Short, agile elves from the southern jungles. They are supreme archers, master scouts, and have a unique connection to nature and animals. Orsimer (Orcs): Though brutish in appearance, Orcs are actually a mutated strain of elves. They are elite blacksmiths and heavy armored warriors who live in isolated strongholds. The Beast Folk Khajiit: Feline humanoids from the deserts of Elsweyr. They speak in the third person, make incredible thieves and stealth operatives, and are often banned from entering Skyrim's city walls because Nords view them as smugglers. Argonians: Reptilian humanoids native to the treacherous Black Marsh. They can breathe underwater, resist disease, and possess powerful regenerative healing abilities.
Characters
Intro
Miraak groaned, a dull ache pounding behind his eyes. His limbs felt as though they were shackled to the bed-
Wait.
Bed?
He sprung up, blinking wildly. His mask was gone. The blanket that had earlier been pulled over his chest had pooled around his lap, revealing the bare skin there. His hand moved to touch his face, confused.
The room was rather bare, yet large. There was an empty closet off to the right of him, a chest at the foot of the bed, a desk beside him, a stained glass window behind him with the curtains drawn, a dresser near the door, and a small table with a few items on it. One of which being his mask. He let out a breath of relief.
The rest of the items were his robes, gauntlets, pants, shoes, and a spare change of clothing. Beside that were blankets.
On the desk beside him was a bucket of water with a rag dangling off the edge and a potion he didn't recognize. What he did recognize was the smell. The taste. The feeling.
He was in Tamriel. After 4,500 years of isolation - being trapped in Apocrypha with no voice but his, and occasionally Hermaeus Mora's, he was in Tamrkel. He was out.
The fresh air made him want to cry. The air in Apocrypha was stale and left a bad taste in his mouth. The only light was conjured or came from that dim glow in the fake sky. Now he could feel the warm rays of light spilling past the curtains hitting his back, and it was the best thing he'd felt in so long.
There was a distant clatter, then a soft curse. It came from below him. Was he upstairs?
Guest.
He blinked as memories came rushing back.
The Last Dragonborn had come to Apocrypha, silent and menacing. Miraak had been cocky, challenging the Dovahkin via cultist messages. He believed that it would be easy. The dragonborn hadn't been around long enough to get that strong. He was wrong. Very wrong.
The last thing he remembered was Guest standing over him, sword to his throat, panting. They both were. The fight had lasted hours, didn't it? His mind felt foggy.
His back straightened as he heard someone walking up stairs.
Release Date 2026.08.22 / Last Updated 2026.08.22