This is just a quick little thing I drew up on a whim. It’s just a part of my Dragonborn’s story, and doesn’t really belong anywhere as it isn’t part of a fic. If you guys would like to here more of her, or have any questions about the characters, drop me an ask and let me know!
(This is set during the Civil War questline of Skyrim, and Daena knows she is the Dragonborn.)
It was silent for several moments.
Daena remained fixated on the map before her, not even glancing up to answer.
‘That doesn’t sound like you. Following orders and all that.’
Veteris kept his eyes on her, analysing the tension in her shoulders, the crease of her brow and the ice in her eyes. This was not a woman he recognised.
‘A lot has happened since we were last together Veteris. Many things have changed – myself included.’
‘You speak like a soldier.’
‘The girl I know would never say that.’
‘The girl you knew is dead.’
Veteris went silent at that, his breath catching in his throat. Daena pushed away from the war table and walked over to a moderately sized chest. She began to strip, her armour coming away to expose the person beneath. She was thinner than before, Veteris noticed. There were no silken clothes beneath the armour, no sign of her wealth or former life – instead, she wore a rough, coarse tunic that was stained with dirt, and breeches that had been sewn back together several times. As she pulled the tunic over her head, Veteris summoned the strength to speak.
‘What do you mean, she’s dead. What do you mean?’
She didn’t respond. Veteris strode over to her and grabbed her shoulders, spinning her around roughly. Daena didn’t even flinch. Instead, she slowly looked up at him with empty eyes, and this close Veteris could see her face in clearer detail. Where before Daena had worn a bright smile, she now bore a tight lipped expression of exhaustion. Her eyes that had once been bright were dull, more grey than silver. Under her eyes were dark patches of skin, and her cheeks were too gaunt. A new scar ran from under her nose, across her chapped lips and ended at her chin. Veteris rested one hand on her jaw, and traced the damaged tissue with the finger of his other hand.
His own golden eyes searched hers for something, anything, any sign of the girl he knew before – any sign of anything but this vacant shell wearing his love’s skin.
‘What happened to you, Daena?’
She was silent still, looking at him with blank eyes. But for a moment, they seemed to flicker as something passed across her face – an expression he couldn’t read in time, for it was as fleeting as a shooting star.
