Elisif sprinted up the steps, darting past servants and guards and ignoring Erikur calling to her if she'd sorted out that dragon. She'd sort him out if he didn't shut up, shouting Su and carving him into – oh gods. She ran into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. She didn't know what had happened, but she was scared and terrified and there was this new power in her now, this thing that wouldn't go away and really really wanted to fight, fight them all until they were all on their knees, all calling her Lady Queen and... oh gods, what was wrong with her??
She reached into a cupboard and grabbed a goblet and a bottle of Colovian brandy swiped from Elenwen's last party. Her hand shook as she poured herself a measure... and another... and then she gave up on the glass and just swigged a mouthful straight from the bottle. The taste burned her throat, but she didn't care. She collapsed on the bed, vaguely aware of Falk hammering on the door and shouting her name.
“Elisif! Elisif! Open the door!”
Elisif ignored him. The brandy was making her feel reckless, a warm shield that normally made her feel at ease with the world, but now made her feel just that bit more predatory. This was her palace, her strunmah (what in Oblivion was a strunmah??), the red joor could wait until she was ready (joor??).
“Leave me alone!” she snapped.
“Not until we've talked!” Falk shouted. “Elisif, what happened? What did that dragon do to you?”
Better ask what I did to that dragon, and that was another thing she resented, the implication that it was always other people doing things to her, not her doing things to other people.
“Nothing!” Elisif cried. “It didn't do anything, it was dead. I don't know what happened!”
“Elisif,” Falk called from behind the door, sounding worried. “My Jarl, people are talking. They're saying you took its soul, that you're...”
“DOVAHKIIN!!!!!” The room shook as the great Shout rolled across the sky, causing the room to shake and Elisif to sober up very very quickly. What in the name of Kyne... was that the Greybeards?!
“Falk,” Elisif called, feeling her heart start to pound. “Falk, I'm not... I'm not Dragonborn. Am I?”
Silence. Not a sound, and that was worse than if he'd said yes, because it meant yes, didn't it? She'd taken that damn dragon's soul.
“Oh gods,” Elisif whispered, and she finally lost all semblance of control. Rolling over, she began to cry. Falk clearly took that as an invitation to come in, because he was opening the door, closing it behind him and then sitting on the bed next to her, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. Elisif didn't even care any more. She just turned over and rested her head in his lap, like she used to do with her father as a girl. Falk stroked her hair, saying nothing.
“I can't be Dragonborn, Falk, I just can't,” she whispered, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “I'm not a mighty warrior or anything, I'm just a foolish young girl who doesn't know what she's doing half the time.”
“No, you're a very brave young woman who's come through a lot and is stronger than she knows, than any of us knew,” said Falk gently. “It's all right, Elisif, no one's going to ask you to fight a dragon on your own. But you just stopped one coming back. That's special. That just saved your city.”
Third dragon attack that week – but not the third dragon and Elisif knew it. Well, it wouldn't be coming back. Others might though, especially if they knew the Dragonborn was here, and thanks to the Greybeards, everyone now knew there was a Dragonborn.
“I'm going to have to go to High Hrothgar, aren't I?” Elisif whispered. “What do you think they want?”
“I don't know, but don't be afraid,” Falk said, squeezing her shoulder. “I think they just want to meet you, make sure you're not going to use your powers for ill. And then I think they're going to train you in how to Shout.”
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timeasmymeasure
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 1.3
Date: 2013-08-19 10:45 pm (UTC)She reached into a cupboard and grabbed a goblet and a bottle of Colovian brandy swiped from Elenwen's last party. Her hand shook as she poured herself a measure... and another... and then she gave up on the glass and just swigged a mouthful straight from the bottle. The taste burned her throat, but she didn't care. She collapsed on the bed, vaguely aware of Falk hammering on the door and shouting her name.
“Elisif! Elisif! Open the door!”
Elisif ignored him. The brandy was making her feel reckless, a warm shield that normally made her feel at ease with the world, but now made her feel just that bit more predatory. This was her palace, her strunmah (what in Oblivion was a strunmah??), the red joor could wait until she was ready (joor??).
“Leave me alone!” she snapped.
“Not until we've talked!” Falk shouted. “Elisif, what happened? What did that dragon do to you?”
Better ask what I did to that dragon, and that was another thing she resented, the implication that it was always other people doing things to her, not her doing things to other people.
“Nothing!” Elisif cried. “It didn't do anything, it was dead. I don't know what happened!”
“Elisif,” Falk called from behind the door, sounding worried. “My Jarl, people are talking. They're saying you took its soul, that you're...”
“DOVAHKIIN!!!!!” The room shook as the great Shout rolled across the sky, causing the room to shake and Elisif to sober up very very quickly. What in the name of Kyne... was that the Greybeards?!
“Falk,” Elisif called, feeling her heart start to pound. “Falk, I'm not... I'm not Dragonborn. Am I?”
Silence. Not a sound, and that was worse than if he'd said yes, because it meant yes, didn't it? She'd taken that damn dragon's soul.
“Oh gods,” Elisif whispered, and she finally lost all semblance of control. Rolling over, she began to cry. Falk clearly took that as an invitation to come in, because he was opening the door, closing it behind him and then sitting on the bed next to her, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. Elisif didn't even care any more. She just turned over and rested her head in his lap, like she used to do with her father as a girl. Falk stroked her hair, saying nothing.
“I can't be Dragonborn, Falk, I just can't,” she whispered, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “I'm not a mighty warrior or anything, I'm just a foolish young girl who doesn't know what she's doing half the time.”
“No, you're a very brave young woman who's come through a lot and is stronger than she knows, than any of us knew,” said Falk gently. “It's all right, Elisif, no one's going to ask you to fight a dragon on your own. But you just stopped one coming back. That's special. That just saved your city.”
Third dragon attack that week – but not the third dragon and Elisif knew it. Well, it wouldn't be coming back. Others might though, especially if they knew the Dragonborn was here, and thanks to the Greybeards, everyone now knew there was a Dragonborn.
“I'm going to have to go to High Hrothgar, aren't I?” Elisif whispered. “What do you think they want?”
“I don't know, but don't be afraid,” Falk said, squeezing her shoulder. “I think they just want to meet you, make sure you're not going to use your powers for ill. And then I think they're going to train you in how to Shout.”