“Well, you wanted my story,” Elisif sighed. “It's a sad one, I know.”
“I – yeah,” said Braig faintly, sounding a bit helpless and for some reason he was looking over her shoulder, eyes pleading with someone behind her. “I'm really very sorry to hear it, young lady, and believe me, I do know how it feels. I lost my little girl too. She was barely four years old. Nord soldiers killed her and threw me in here. I'll spare you the details. Er... are you all right?”
Elisif shook her head, feeling her heart breaking all over again, and honestly she was glad Braig hadn't told her any more than that, because that was awful, killing a four year old because of what her father might have done? And her own country's soldiers too, her kinsmen. Nords should know better. Nords were supposed to be honourable warriors, fighting evil and protecting the weak, not murdering children. Were they Igmund's men or Ulfric's, she wondered, and then decided it didn't matter. It wouldn't bring Braig's little girl back, or anyone else. All this in her own country, an entire Hold with its own war going on, and maybe the Forsworn were animals, maybe they were murderers... but the Nords they'd been fighting were no better. Worse in some ways. She'd wanted to see what Skyrim was like for people that weren't Jarls. She was certainly finding out and she didn't like what she saw.
“I'm so sorry,” she whispered. “For everything my kinsmen did to you. You deserved better. I'll try and get justice for you, I swear.”
“Don't waste your pity on me, girl,” Braig growled, not looking at her now. “I'm just an old Forsworn who wishes he'd killed more of Ulfric's men when he had the chance. Never mind justice for me. Just give Ulfric a few swings of the axe from me when you see him.”
Elisif nodded tearfully. She could certainly do that – if she ever got out of here. She got up to find Madanach, turned round... and realised he'd been there the whole time. There were five of them, that yellow-eyed prisoner Uraccen, the young one called Odvan, Duach who'd given her the Skooma, Borkul at the back towering over the others, and at the front, Madanach kneeling, staring at the ground, and then he looked up.
The one thing she'd never have expected to see in the Forsworn King's eyes when looking at the Nord Queen was understanding, sympathy and pain of his own.
“How much of that did you hear?” she gasped, mortified.
“Enough,” was the response as he got to his feet, holding out a hand to her. “I wanted you to know what it was like for us, turns out you already do. Braig, thank you, I know you don't like talking about it, but this was important, trust me.”
“Anything for the cause, sir,” Braig said deferentially, picking up his axe and staring at the rock face. Madanach nodded at the others, all of whom were also looking sympathetic, even Borkul, and motioned for them to get back to work. They dispersed quickly enough, leaving her with the King in Rags.
“You were listening in,” she whispered. “You son of a bitch.”
He had the nerve to smile. “Braig won't talk about his story unless it's on my orders, and he always asks for the other person's first. I wanted to know who you were, really. Now I do... and now I think we can help each other. Come with me, let's talk.”
He knows who I am. Of course he did, how many other people's husbands had Ulfric walked into Solitude recently and murdered? The others might not know, being stuck down here, but Madanach must have had reports from his people on the outside. By this stage she wasn't even frightened... just numb. Whatever he did to her, it couldn't hurt worse than seeing Torygg dead had. She just nodded and went over to him, not even objecting as his hand came to rest on her upper back and he led her out.
No one even looked at her as they went out, apart from that Nord Grisvar, but he just looked confused – or at least he did until Madanach glared at him then he very quickly looked away. All rather different to how it had initially been. No staring, no ogling, nothing. Cicero had been right. Get the prison king on your side, no one hassled you. Even Borkul nodded respectfully as Madanach led her back to his room.
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 13.8
“I – yeah,” said Braig faintly, sounding a bit helpless and for some reason he was looking over her shoulder, eyes pleading with someone behind her. “I'm really very sorry to hear it, young lady, and believe me, I do know how it feels. I lost my little girl too. She was barely four years old. Nord soldiers killed her and threw me in here. I'll spare you the details. Er... are you all right?”
Elisif shook her head, feeling her heart breaking all over again, and honestly she was glad Braig hadn't told her any more than that, because that was awful, killing a four year old because of what her father might have done? And her own country's soldiers too, her kinsmen. Nords should know better. Nords were supposed to be honourable warriors, fighting evil and protecting the weak, not murdering children. Were they Igmund's men or Ulfric's, she wondered, and then decided it didn't matter. It wouldn't bring Braig's little girl back, or anyone else. All this in her own country, an entire Hold with its own war going on, and maybe the Forsworn were animals, maybe they were murderers... but the Nords they'd been fighting were no better. Worse in some ways. She'd wanted to see what Skyrim was like for people that weren't Jarls. She was certainly finding out and she didn't like what she saw.
“I'm so sorry,” she whispered. “For everything my kinsmen did to you. You deserved better. I'll try and get justice for you, I swear.”
“Don't waste your pity on me, girl,” Braig growled, not looking at her now. “I'm just an old Forsworn who wishes he'd killed more of Ulfric's men when he had the chance. Never mind justice for me. Just give Ulfric a few swings of the axe from me when you see him.”
Elisif nodded tearfully. She could certainly do that – if she ever got out of here. She got up to find Madanach, turned round... and realised he'd been there the whole time. There were five of them, that yellow-eyed prisoner Uraccen, the young one called Odvan, Duach who'd given her the Skooma, Borkul at the back towering over the others, and at the front, Madanach kneeling, staring at the ground, and then he looked up.
The one thing she'd never have expected to see in the Forsworn King's eyes when looking at the Nord Queen was understanding, sympathy and pain of his own.
“How much of that did you hear?” she gasped, mortified.
“Enough,” was the response as he got to his feet, holding out a hand to her. “I wanted you to know what it was like for us, turns out you already do. Braig, thank you, I know you don't like talking about it, but this was important, trust me.”
“Anything for the cause, sir,” Braig said deferentially, picking up his axe and staring at the rock face. Madanach nodded at the others, all of whom were also looking sympathetic, even Borkul, and motioned for them to get back to work. They dispersed quickly enough, leaving her with the King in Rags.
“You were listening in,” she whispered. “You son of a bitch.”
He had the nerve to smile. “Braig won't talk about his story unless it's on my orders, and he always asks for the other person's first. I wanted to know who you were, really. Now I do... and now I think we can help each other. Come with me, let's talk.”
He knows who I am. Of course he did, how many other people's husbands had Ulfric walked into Solitude recently and murdered? The others might not know, being stuck down here, but Madanach must have had reports from his people on the outside. By this stage she wasn't even frightened... just numb. Whatever he did to her, it couldn't hurt worse than seeing Torygg dead had. She just nodded and went over to him, not even objecting as his hand came to rest on her upper back and he led her out.
No one even looked at her as they went out, apart from that Nord Grisvar, but he just looked confused – or at least he did until Madanach glared at him then he very quickly looked away. All rather different to how it had initially been. No staring, no ogling, nothing. Cicero had been right. Get the prison king on your side, no one hassled you. Even Borkul nodded respectfully as Madanach led her back to his room.