A.N: I would like to thank all whom have read, reviewed, or both! Now she has to tell Fergus the secret she wouldn't tell her parents.
P.S: I do not own Dragon Age, Skyrim, or the characters.
Chapter 9,
"Fergus?" she asked, glancing back at him, her brow furrowing in concern. His expression had shifted, the playful banter evaporating into something darker.
"What are those?" he asked, his voice low and edged with fury. She followed his gaze and realized he was staring at the crisscross scars across her back, remnants of the torture she had endured. The whip marks stood out against her skin, vivid and jagged, a stark reminder of the pain she had tried to bury deep within her.
Her heart raced, knowing he was about to question her, and she braced herself for the conversation she had hoped to avoid. "They're just scars, Fergus," she replied, trying to keep her tone casual, but the weight of the truth hung heavily in the air between them.
"Just scars?" he echoed incredulously, his fists clenching at his sides. "Elena, those look like they came from a whip. Who did this to you?" His voice was fierce, protective instincts surging as he stepped closer, his concern palpable.
Elena turned to face him fully, the gravity of his words pressing down on her. "It's not something I want to talk about right now," she said softly, hoping to deflect his anger.
"No, this isn't just 'something'!" Fergus insisted, his tone rising as the emotions boiled within him. "You don't just get scars like that without someone doing something horrible to you. I need to know who hurt you."
She could see the rage brewing behind his eyes, a protective fire that reminded her of how fiercely he cared.
After Fergus questioned her about the scars, Elena felt the weight of the moment settle over them like a heavy blanket. Sensing that this conversation needed to happen, she took a deep breath and motioned for him to sit down. "Alright, Fergus. Let's talk," she said softly, her voice steadying her nerves as she gestured toward the edge of the bed.
He lowered himself into the chair, his expression shifting to one of concern and anticipation. "I'm listening," he said, leaning forward, his intensity palpable. The flickering candlelight illuminated the lines of worry on his forehead, and she could see the emotions swirling within him, a mix of protectiveness and anger.
Elena hesitated for a moment, searching for the right way to convey her ordeal without revealing too much. "I was captured by the enemy," she began, her voice quiet but resolute. "They wanted information about our alliances, strategies... things I didn't have." The memories felt raw as she recalled the cold, dark confines of her captivity, the torment she had endured.
As she spoke, she watched Fergus's expression darken, his fists clenching at his sides. The protective fire in his eyes flared again, and she felt a surge of gratitude for his concern but also a sense of guilt for what she was sharing.
"They were relentless," she continued, forcing herself to look into his eyes, wanting him to see her strength despite the pain. "The scars on my back are from a whip, used to break me, to make me talk. And the scars on my face…" She paused, swallowing hard as she fought to keep her composure. "They're from the same person who tortured me."
Fergus's jaw tightened, his anger palpable. "I want to know who did this to you," he demanded, the fury in his voice thickening the air between them.
Elena felt the weight of his words, the desire for justice flashing in his eyes. In that moment, she realized she had to tread carefully. "They're dead," she replied, her voice firm but tinged with a touch of hesitation. "I made sure of it. They won't hurt anyone again."
It was a lie, but one she hoped would satisfy his need for retribution while protecting him from the truth of her experiences. The last thing she wanted was for him to seek vengeance, to endanger himself over her past.
Fergus's expression shifted, a flicker of relief washing over him at her words. "Good," he said, though she could see the tension still simmering beneath the surface. "I just… I can't stand the thought of you suffering like that. You deserve so much better."
"I know," Elena replied, her heart aching at the concern etched across his features. "But I'm here now, and I survived. That's what matters."
He nodded slowly, the fire in his eyes dimming as he absorbed her words. "You're right. I just wish I could have been there to protect you."
Elena reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers. "You're here now, and that's what counts. We're together again, and I want to focus on that."
After a moment, Fergus relaxed slightly, the protective tension in his posture easing. "Okay, but promise me you'll tell me everything when you're ready. I want to help you through this."
"I promise," she said, her voice firm and sincere. "When the time is right, I'll share everything. But for now, let's just enjoy being back together."
As they sat there, the atmosphere shifted, a sense of understanding settling between them. Elena felt a renewed sense of strength, bolstered by Fergus's unwavering support. She knew that while her scars told a story of pain, they also represented her resilience and the love of her family that would help her heal.
After their intense conversation, Fergus finally stood, giving Elena one last look filled with brotherly concern before he turned to leave. "Just remember, I'm here for you, sis," he said, his tone sincere.
"Thanks, Fergus," she replied, feeling a mix of gratitude and apprehension. As he walked out, closing the door behind him, Elena let out a heavy sigh, the weight of their earlier discussion still lingering in the air.
Once alone, she allowed herself a moment of introspection. There were secrets she carried—some that she would share with her family and others that would remain hidden, locked away in the recesses of her heart. The thought of those untold stories made her stomach twist, but the one she had kept the closest was the most burdensome of all.
With a determined resolve, Elena reached up and gently removed the eye patch that had covered her right eye. It felt like a symbolic gesture, shedding the layers of her past as she prepared to confront her true self. As the leather slipped away, she braced herself for the emotions that accompanied this revelation.
Revealed before her in the mirror was her blood-red dragon eye, a vibrant hue that contrasted starkly with the soft warmth of her human eye. The eye was mesmerizing, yet haunting, the blackness where the whites would typically be added an eerie depth. This was the last curse from Alduin, the World Eater, a dragon she had faced in Sovngarde after she had dealt the final blow to him. It was a mark of both her victory and her sacrifice.
Elena stared into the mirror, the weight of her new reality settling heavily on her shoulders. The dragon eye was a constant reminder of the battle she had fought, the price she had paid, and the power that now coursed through her veins. It was a curse, for whoever seemed to look into the eye became afraid so she kept it covered. She had tried to remove it at one point but for some reason the curse made it so the eye could never be damaged, never taken away.
As she examined the reflection, memories flooded back—flashes of her encounter with Alduin, the fierce battle, the moment she had slain him and felt the surge of power course through her, followed by the unsettling transformation that had come with it. The dragon eye was a part of her now, a mark of her destiny intertwined with the legends of old.
But could she share this with her family? Would they understand? Would they see her as something other than their beloved Elena? Those questions hung heavy in her mind, and she knew the time wasn't right to reveal that particular truth just yet. For now, it would remain her secret, a hidden part of her journey that she would carry alone.
Taking a deep breath, she slipped the eye patch back over her dragon eye, the leather feeling comforting against her skin. She could feel the familiar warmth of her human eye, the softness of her identity, and in that moment, she resolved to embrace both sides of herself.
With a renewed sense of resolve, Elena turned back to the bathing room, the warmth of the hot water still beckoning her. She stepped inside, allowing the soothing steam to envelop her once again, the familiar aroma of lavender and warmth washing over her like a gentle embrace.
As she approached the stone square basin, the sight of the shimmering water calmed her racing thoughts. The earlier intensity of her conversation with Fergus lingered in her mind, but now, she needed to immerse herself in the healing power of the bath, a small ritual of self-care amidst the emotional turmoil.
She dipped her fingers into the hot water, feeling the comforting heat radiate up her arms, washing away the remnants of the day. Slowly, she stepped in, allowing the water to cradle her, feeling the tension begin to melt away with each passing moment.
Elena sank deeper into the basin, submerging herself up to her shoulders, letting the warmth envelop her completely. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and allowing the soothing sensation to wash over her. The steam rose around her, creating a calming haze that felt like a protective cocoon, shielding her from the worries of the world outside.
In this tranquil space, she could finally let go of the burdens she had been carrying. Thoughts of her family, her journey, and the secrets she held began to drift away like the steam rising from the water. For a moment, she allowed herself to simply be—just Elena, free from the weight of her past and the expectations of the future.
The warm water soothed her muscles, easing the tension that had built up during her travels. She began to wash away the grime that had clung to her, feeling the physical remnants of her journey slip away with each gentle scrub. The water turned a light shade of brown, a visual reminder of the distance she had traveled and the battles she had faced.
As she rinsed her hair and splashed water over her shoulders, Elena felt lighter, both in body and spirit. She thought about the day ahead, the stories she would share, and the bond she would continue to strengthen with her family. She knew that while some things would take time to reveal, there was a comfort in knowing she could navigate this new chapter with them by her side.
After she finished her bath, Elena emerged from the water, the droplets glistening on her skin as she reached for a soft towel to dry off. The cool fabric felt refreshing against her warm body, and as she wrapped it around herself, she felt renewed, as if the water had washed away not only the dirt but also some of the weight of her past.
With a small smile on her face, she moved back to her bedroom, feeling a sense of calm settle over her. The evening stretched before her, a canvas yet to be filled with the laughter and love of her family. She glanced at the dark loose tunic she had set aside and slipped it on, the fabric soft against her skin.
With a heart full of warmth and a spirit renewed, Elena climbed into bed, the soft linens cradling her as she nestled in. She closed her eyes, allowing the gentle sounds of the castle—the distant laughter, the crackling fire, the whispers of her family—lull her into a peaceful slumber. Tomorrow would come with its own challenges, but for now, she was home, and that was all that mattered.
A.N: I know its a bit shorter but this place seemed like a good enough place to stop. Please let me know if there are any issues.