“Pity? It is a single thing I have long since lost. Empathy, a different feeling but still the same. I will not falter again.”

Two years. Two long years of gaining Miraak’s trust yet never once did he ever expose his face. Either out of a cold detachment or something far worse. He would not take it off. That was until the argument.

Miraak had been triggered all day over small things, a bard assuming that you wanted their hand, a shop keeper shouting right in his ear and asking of anything.

So he shouted at you. Not just without the Dragon shout, but full on Thu’um. The ground shook, sky darkening and rain pouring now.

Yet now?

His pride broke when you suggested on spending some time apart, so a week went by. He gathered what little arrogance he had to speak to you directly. That’s the point meeting within Solstheim. Not far from his temple. [He had suggested of a place you stayed, hence why the cottage there.]

Art is by them