A Change of the Script

Chapter 6

When she next awoke she realized she didn't hurt as much as before. Listening carefully she realized that she was alone. Slowly she opened her eyes and looked around the room. There was a soft glow from the fire in the hearth. It looked as though it had been unattended for some time as the flames were low. The soft light helped her eyes adjust.

What happened? Where am I? Turning her head slightly she took in the rest of the room. She was lying in a large soft bed with rich fabric blankets covering her. There was a chest of drawers and a wardrobe, both high quality aswell as a comfortable looking lounge chair and another small padded chair in front of the fire. The matching chair had been moved next to the bed.

Carefully, mindful of the many aches that still ran through her body, she sat up and lowered her legs out of the bed. She felt the soft rug under her bare feet gently curled her toes through it. Looking down at herself she realized that someone had dressed her in a silky, deep green nightgown which came to mid calf. It had obviously been made for a Human but had been altered slightly to fit her. There were bruises and cuts that seemed to be well on their way to healing, covering her arms and legs. By the aches she could feel on her torso she knew she would find similar injuries there. She could also see what looked to be healing burn marks racing up and down her arms.

Images flashed through her mind of fighting darkspawn, a large dragon breathing fire, her friends shouting, more darkspawn, Alistair shouting her name, the dragon glaring at her, lots of blood, a blinding light, agonizing pain ripping through her, her own certainty of death, sadness of leaving Alistair but joy and happiness at him surviving.

Wait, she thought, face scrunching up in confusion. Not a dragon......The ARCHDEMON!! The battle on Fort Drakon! Am I dead? If this is the Beyond it hurts more than it should. The Creators surely wouldn't make it seem like a Shemlen castle....... Would they?

Standing slowly she felt pain lance through muscles that hadn't been used for a while, forced to support her weight. Ok. Not dead. So where am I? Still moving slowly Lyna padded her way over to the door. Reaching out she grasped the handle and carefully opened it a little, listening for any sound. Hearing nothing she glanced back into the room. Through the small window she took note of the starlight shining through. Well that explains why it's so quiet,everyone is probably asleep. Knowing she wouldn't find the answers she was looking for and that this was probably the best time to look around, she stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly. With every step she took she felt the aches slowly disappear and felt her movements become more natural, even if they were still a little sluggish. As she movedthrough the building she still could not recognize it. The decoration was clearly Ferelden so that narrowed things down. With this kind of luxury, and obvious Human make........ I must be in Denerim Palace! But why? Where is everyone. Avague memory of voices speaking around her helped her relax a little. Though she didn't recognize them at the time she realized now that it had been Alistair and Wynn. At least they're alright. But where are they now? What about the others?

She had been walking through the halls for a short while when she heard the clank of armour approaching. Without conscious thought she let herself blend into the shadows so as not to be seen. With it being so late few torches were lit in the halls. Waiting silently she watched as two guards in full Armor marched past, obviously on night patrol. Deciding to remain hidden until she had answers to her questions she proceeded through the castle unseen by staff and guards alike. Soon she could hear voices coming from a room ahead. Quietly she moved towards the room and the now familiar voices coming from within. She could hear the soft tones of Wynn and Leliana and the loud deep tone of Oghren. The musical tone of Zevran filtered through the door followed once again by what sounded like a soft admonishment from Wynn. Though they had obviously been trying to keep their voices quiet Lyna could hear what they had been saying. Realization flooded through her as she acknowledged that it was herself they were discussing. Worry was clear in all of their voices as they asked Wynn question after question about her condition. From what she could make out she had been unconscious for around five weeks and with the amount of injuries Wynn was currently listing off, they were surprised that she was even alive.