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"Dream on."

Send me “Dream On” and my character will tell yours of a dream they had, featuring your character in it.

The first thing she notices are flowers. Lilies. Their smell - for nothing in the world she’d ever forget it. And then when she moves, there’s something else that catches her attention. She’s wearing a dress. She looks down at herself and sees the heavy cream-colored wild silk that covers her. Clearly a wedding dress, an expensive one. One that would surprise everyone. Most of all him. There is something in her left eye, but she doesn’t dare to do anything else than blink. Hence, for the also cream-white gloves she’s wearing and she isn’t sure, but there’s probably more make-up on her face than she has worn in more than ten years. And ruining her outfit along with her make-up two minutes before she’s entering for the ceremony is nothing she wants to do. A door opens in her back and Ella turns around, having problems to move easily on the heels sh’s wearing. She’s wondering for a moment, why she has let anyone talk her into these shoes, but Liara’s head peeking into the room is distracting her. “Are you ready? Because if you are, we can start.” She smiles softly and takes a step into the room when Ella nods. Yeah, she’s as ready as she can get. Excited, but glad that this day has finally come.

Anderson is waiting for her. She’s surprised, but it makes sense. He is more a father to her than her own has ever been. Despite the fact that Daniel Shepard is dead. He’s smiling and looking at her, happy, almost proud. “You okay, Shepard?” She chuckles. “Yeah, excited and have problems with the shoes, but other than that? I’m good. But…” She grins. “… You maybe should start to call me Ella, because I’m not Shepard anymore in an hour.” Anderson nods and chuckles as well. “Right. You might excuse an old soldier to need some time to get rid of habits.” “I do. But not forever.” They laugh and he pulls her into a friendly, almost fatherly embrace. “I’m proud of you. Have always been.” She clears her throat awkwardly, not knowing what to say. “Thanks. I owe you everything, not only this.” her hand gesturing around herself, meaning the wedding dress and everything related to it. Anderson just smiles and offer her his arm. “Now, let us see to add something more to the list of the things I owe you by bringing you safe to your husband.” And with that she takes his arm, and steps beside him, seeing her reflection for the first time in the dark glass doors in front of them.

Ella has the feeling that all of her blood is leaving her head. She’s getting dizzy, and holds her breath, mouth agape. She’s barely recognizing herself. Scars are all over her face, almost defacing her. Her left eye.. There was nothing in it earlier, it’s not her own. It’s artificial. Fire scars are covering the left of her face, her neck and whatever skin she can see of the left side of her body. This is… not what she had expected. Panic rises inside of her.. She had had scars before, but not like this. The stylist had done a good job, but hadn’t been able to hide the fact that with all these scars her hair on the left side has vanished as well, nothing more than scars. She’s terrified, what will the people inside say, will they stare at her? Does he regret it? And only then she realizes the different feeling of her leg and arm and hears the mechanic buzzing whenever she’s moving. Ella is sure that this hasn’t been there a moment ago. She’s afraid. Afraid to see him standing there, regretting this, the size of the ceremony, marrying her at all. She want’s to leave, want’s to run, but Anderson is holding her. “They are waiting, we should go.” She just nods and realizes that there’s nothing she can do about this. She can’t stop it.

She put the best smile she’s able to show on her lips and nods. She will offer him to cancel the marriage — if they do this in within the time limit there no repercussion. She’ll pay for everything and he can look for someone he deserves. Someone who’s not a fucking spare parts deposit. “Ella! Your veil!” Liara jumps in front of her and pulls the veil in front of her face. It’s barely covering anything, too thin and delicate, but it’s something. The guests won’t have a straight look on her face.

And then the doors open and they are on their way. He has his back turned to them. And she seems to know why. She feels it. Her own image still burned into her thoughts. She looks like a monster. Who wants to look at her like this… Walking is difficult with the prosthesis. It’s like she’s doing it for the fist time. Fuck, when Laira had come into the room it hadn’t been there, she was fucking sure of it. What was happening here? Ella tries her best to keep her composure and just walk.

Every face, she’s looking at, is smiling, encouraging her. There are her friends, all of them. They are touched, some have tears in their eyes. But it’s not helping. They probably haven’t seen her. And actually it doesn’t matter what they are thinking. All that matters is the man at the end of this way and what he thinks. They have managed half of the way when he looks at her for the first time. But there is nothing on his face that indicates that he’s insecure about his decision. He’s excited, she can see that, but he’s also smiling. Probably more than she had ever seen him smile since that night he had asked her to marry her. Maybe he’s just repressing what she looks like. Must be, because.. No one could ever stay with someone looking the way she is looking for long. The moment she reaches him and he lifts the veil will show that, she’s so damn sure.

But his expression doesn’t change. With every unstable step she takes towards him, he’s smiling a bit more. And then she’s there, and Anderson puts her hand in his. And he’s still smiling. He must see it through the veil. But there is no hesitation when his hands reach for the delicate fabric and pull it up, placing it behind her head. He’s looking at her and still smiles. There’s nothing genuineness on his face. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers. And also that is the truth. She would know, would see and hear it, if he’d lie. For him she is, and she realizes that it doesn’t matter what she looks like. He loves her and that is what makes her beautiful to him. Like it is the other way around. She suddenly sees more scars on his face, that haven’t been there a moment ago. Not like on her face, but they are there. And she knows that there is the wheelchair hidden behind Garrus and Joker, because he can stand here, take some steps, but not manage to walk out of here. And that also doesn’t matter. All that counts is that they are here, alive and doing this.

She stares at the window above them for some minutes when she wakes up. Not sure what to make of this dream. She takes a few deep breaths, shakily, because even when the end has been a good one, and all of that, there was still the nighmarish touch to it when she saw her face, and she can’t forget it. Can’t forget the feeling it leaves inside of her. James is moving beside her and that catches her attention. “Hey, you’re awake,” he whispers. “I dreamt,” Ella only replies. “Bad one?” “No, not really. The end was good. But.. I don’t know… There was some really fucked up shit in it.” James doesn’t say anything at first and just pulls her closer to him. “Wha’ was it ‘bout?” He’s still half asleep. But Ella shakes her head. “Later, let’s get back to sleep now.We’re reaching Rannoch in six hours.” “Whatever ya say, Lola.” Ella leans against him and closes her eyes. “James?” she whispers after a moment. “Hm?” “I love you.” He smiles, she knows it, she can hear his stubble scratch against the pillow. “I love you, too.”

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