A Change of the Script

Chapter 6

As the days passed Lyna slowly recovered. Her strength gained but she still remained unconscious. Wynn had gained permission from the Circle to remain in Denerim and care for the Warden. Even if the Circle had not agreed Alistair, who had now been crowned King, would have made sure she stayed. He was not willing to let any of their remaining group leave until Lyna woke and was healthy enough to move. Morrigan had disappeared shortly after the final battle. A few times Alistair had thought he'd seen someone steal out of the room Lyna was resting in but when he had gone to investigate no one had been there. The rest of their rag tag group had no intention of leaving either. Alistair had been putting many decisions off but as the days dragged into weeks he could delay no longer. The city was being rebuilt and he wanted to make sure things were done right. The Banns were clamoring for his attention as well and there was still the problem of Anora to be decided. Word had also arrived that Lyna's clan would be arriving near the capital soon. Alistair had sent word to them as soon as the battle had ended, asking them to come to Denerim. He was determined he would be there to meet them as they arrived, he owed Lyna no less.

Celebrations were still being held in the city even as damage was being repaired. For the first two weeks people had mourned for those that had been lost. As the city grieved their resolve hardened and they vowed the lives lost would not be in vain. The rebuild was going well, though there was still much to do. All the people needed now was one more thing. The Hero of Ferelden to wake up

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The murmur of indistinct voices came to her ears. They were muffled but vaguely familiar. Focusing on the voices didn't do anything but make her head hurt. Well, matches the rest of me. she thought as she registered the aches and stiffness throughout the rest of her body. It felt as though she hadn't moved for days or had even taken on a horde of darkspawn Ogres on her own. Her arms and legs felt stiff and heavy, as though they weighed a thousand tons. As she took stock of her aches and pains the voices kept speaking. She could tell that they weren't speaking to her but they were getting louder which made her head hurt more. Fenedhis. Will you be quiet. she thought gently, even thinking seemed to make the pain worse. To her surprise the voices went quiet. There was a pregnant pause then one of the voices murmured something near her. She felt someone gently lift her right hand and hold it. The hand was rough and calloused, strong and gentle. It felt familiar and comforting. Another more gentle and feminine hand was then placed against her forehead. More murmuring came from the voices, sounding cautiously hopeful but still no clearer than before. It was as though there was something covering her ears and dulling all sound. The voices were so familiar but she couldn't distinguish them.  As she tried to concentrate on them her head hurt more. As the pain became stronger and more unbearable a new noise caught her attention. It was a pained sound and after a moment she realized that it was her. The other voices seemed to be getting concerned as she focused on them more.

"..........seems to be...........pain............"

"How....................she be.....................wrong with................"

The pain was becoming unbearable but she needed to know what was going on. Face scrunched up from concentration and pain she tried to quieten the sounds she was making and focus on the voices.

"......need to.............rest......................alright......"

Suddenly she felt a warmth flow through her from the hand placed onher forehead, taking the pain away and soothing her aching muscles. She could feel sleep beckoning to her but fought it. She needed to know what was going on. She wanted to understand what had happened to her but before she could form a thought she felt her already tired body give in and soon she succumbed to sleep.