Chapter 10: Rude Awakening

Summary: The aftermath of the battle of Ostagar and the journey to Lothering

Headache. Pulsating pain at her temple and light nausea. As Solona slowly opened her eyes the sudden light made her agony worse. She so hated when lyrium potion left her body, leaving throbbing migraine behind, even more when she had to drink it. Like cold fire burned through her body, charring her veins and muscles. She burned from inside and yet she always had the feeling she is freezing to death.

She had blurry memories of the battle, and could recall only fragments, nothing else. She remembered her and Alistair running through the bridge, the burning rocks showered over them. She remembered the first time when felt the presence of the darkspawn. The buzzing sound in her mind, like it called her softly like a sweet lullaby. She remembered as she and Alistair slayed an ogre, and they lit the beacon. And she remembered that Loghain never came, only a horde of darkspawn... She was sure that she had died there. She saw nothing but empty darkness.

She shifted and tried to sit up when another, more intensive feeling pierced her at her shoulder. It made her groan and fell back on the bed. She tried to pull herself up with her arms, tried to swallow the pain, but fell back again. She tried to cast a healing spell but somehow her magic was weak, like it was blocked or suppressed. If not heal herself, she had enough magic to ease her pain. As she touched her aching shoulder she felt it was wrapped in fresh and clean bandage just like her whole upper body and felt the peculiar stink of the elfroot balm on her bruises. She always had retching by its smell.

As her eyes slowly acclimatized to the light she looked around. She was in a hut, maybe somewhere in the Wild. The shelves on the wall were filled with vials and ancient looking books. From the ceilings dried herbs were hanged. In the corner a cozy fireplace breathed fire and she felt the pleasant smells of a stew.

"You were lucky. It ran through your shoulder." She heard the exotic-sounding, very feminine voice. It was so familiar and as she turned to the source saw Morrigan, the Witch of the Wild they met before with Alistair when they obtained the blood for the Joining. "Mother shall be pleased that you finally woke up. You've been passed out for days now."

"What happened?" she asked feebly as tried to sit up again, this time she succeeded.

"Briefly, the man who was supposed to answer your signal simply quit. The battle was lost, the King and the Wardens are dead except you and that weeping man-child outside." And Morrigan pointed out the opened window. Solona followed the witch's hand with her eyes, and saw Alistair, sitting on a stone, his head dropped between his shoulders.

"His mentor and friends have just died. What are you expecting from him?" Solona replied as slowly tried to get up from the bed among groans and trembles. Her weak feet barely held her weight and the hut began to spin around, driving her to the edge of vomiting. Her head throbbed painfully, like it wanted to burst her skull from inside. She placed her hand on her temple, tried to ease her pain, but no spell could help the pain what lyrium caused in her. Only another dose of potion, but she would rather endure the all anguish of hell to not have to drink that thing again.

The black-haired witch snorted. "Some dignity, perhaps. Losing people do not justify acting childish." Solona took a sharp glance on her as tried to get on her clothes and leaned over her staff and limped out.

They were in the swamp, surrounded by primeval magic, stronger than even in Ostagar, but different. It was like a shield, weakening her magic. Alistair sat on the same spot, broken, trembling, his face buried in his hands. She walked to him as fast as her legs allowed her and crouched next to him, touching his shoulder with her hand.

Alistair winced by her touch and looked up on her. As her eyes met his bloodshed watery ones he pulled her to himself and hugged her tightly, burying his face into her shoulder.

"Maker, you are alive. I thought you are dead for sure." He heaved in surprise and relief at the same time, snuggling her more to himself. She responded his hug, embraced his neck. It wasn't an act of friendship but sympathy. Everybody who had a tiny shard of humanity inside would do the same. She felt his every little tremors, his tears as soaked her shirt. They were like this for minutes, found comfort in each other.

"I see your fellow Warden has awakened." The crackly voice scattered them. She felt that the heat flushes her cheeks. She tried to avoid Alistair's eyes, but when she stole a glance saw that he blushed too. "You see, you worry too much, young lad."

It was Flemeth, Morrigan's mother. She briefly explained them what happened at Ostagar and how she rescued them. Solona couldn't help, but the old witch made her shudder. Her cruel golden eyes, as she surveyed her with it. Like she searched something in her. She began to wonder that is she the Flemeth she read about in Irving's book. But she hushed this absurd thought away immediately.

She offered her daughter as a guide. Solona didn't like the idea at all and had a very bad premonition as watched Morrigan come to them to depart. But she had no other choice but accept Flemeth's unrequired gift. She was too weak physically and Alistair looked so broken that they wouldn't have a chance in the Wild alone.

This will be a VERY pleasant trip. She thought as looked to the grimacing Alistair.

Alistair and Morrigan quarreled all the way out of the Wild, making Solona's migraine even worse. She so wanted to cast a mutating spell on them or anything to make them quiet, and she barely could resist the temptation to do it. They debated and mocked about everything and constantly. She truly considered the possibility to leave them there and become an apostate in this Wild, just for some peace and quiet. The Chasinds may even accommodate her.

After the third hour of constant rude and poking banter behind her, she lost her patience. "Enough!" she yelled "Could you be quiet for five minute, just five bloody minutes? You make my headache even worse. Don't force me to make you quiet?" she threatened them.

"He started" sulked Morrigan

"I started, you were the one..." Alistair tried to riposte.

"I don't care who started. Just shut up!" she commanded.

She heard barking and when she turned a mabari ran to her, chased by a group of darkspawn. Solona was even grateful to have a target to drive her increasing frustration and casted a fireball on them. They cremated to ashes among earsplitting screams. Alistair and Morrigan just stood their speechlessly and watched how the monsters burned to ashes.

"The next one will land on one of you, if you won't be quiet." she threatened them once again, and as she looked into their frightened eyes they even believed it.

The dog joyfully ran to her, cavorted around her, with a jump brought her down to the ground and gratefully licked her, covering her face with saliva.

"Wait, this isn't that mabari that you healed at Ostagar? It followed you." stated Alistair as tried to tug it down from her, but as he tried to touch it angrily snarled, which made him falter. Solona managed to push the dog from herself, which sat down before her and joyfully wagged its tail. "I suppose it is yours now. It chose you. Lucky you." stated Alistair and tried to pet its head, but it snarled to him again.

"How odd. We now have a mangy dog and Alistair is still the dumbest one in the party." Morrigan chimed in. "Wonderful."

At night in the camp Solona still suffered from her migraine. And it became worse if it was possible. Like somebody played war in her head, making it impossible to have a sane thought. She just sit at the base of the fir tree and watched the dancing flames of campfire, while patted the head of the resting mabari on her lap and listened its soft snorts. If only that bloody lyrium leave her at last. She could give literally everything for it. She couldn't think straight while her head throbbed so hard and Maker sees her soul she needed to.

"Are you feeling better?" She heard the question. She looked up and saw Alistair. He was without his dragon scale armor. The flames reflected in his hazel eyes making it even warmer than it already was.

"Yes, only that bloody migraine remained." she answered weary. She could heal herself when they settled down. Only a light scar remained where the darkspawn shot the arrow through her shoulder and she knew that a few days and it will vanish like never happened.

"Don't you have, I don't know... a spell for it?" he asked. Solona glared at him with her most annoyed looking. The last thing she wanted in that moment was anybody's company.

"If I had a spell, don't you think I would cast it already?" she inquired, her voice filled with arrogance.

But Alistair just hummed. "True enough." He crouched at her and handed some bread and cheese wrapped in a piece of cloth. "You should eat. You are still very weak." Solona smiled at him uncertainly and bit into the cheese. It was dry and sour but better than nothing. She grimaced by it so he handled his canteen to bring it down with it.

"Look Solona, I was thinking." Alistair began. "You can go home if you want. You are too young to fight in this thing." Solona took down the cheese and looked into Alistair's eyes. First in her life she was given a choice. The templars presumably thought she died with the other Wardens in Ostagar. She could live as an apostate in relative peace. But still after what she has seen about the darkspawn and the Blight so far it just didn't felt right. It would be so easy to turn her back and live in unconcern, but eventually the dark would perish her too. So why not fight against it instead and not being a coward?

"I have no home to go back." she replied, her voice trembling and bitter. "Duncan rescued me from imprisonment or... execution. I'm not welcomed in the Circle anymore. And I don't think my father even remembers me." It would be so easy to run back to Kinloch Hold into Cullen's arm, but she knew that in the moment she steps through the gates of the Circle Greagoir would kill her. And her father... if she had wanted her he wouldn't have given her to the Circle. She was left alone, like so many times before.

"He mentioned that your conscription wasn't... ideal." Solona snorted and tried to swallow her more increasing urge to cry. It was still vivid and painful. She still felt the smell of Jowan's blood on her skin. She still saw the disappointment in her mentor's eyes. She still saw as Cullen just stood there doing nothing to help her. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

Solona sighed a deep and closed her eyes and drew her head back. "No, Alistair, I don't want to talk about it. I want some hours of silence and solitude." She opened her eyes and looked to him meaningfully. "Do you think I can manage it?" He nodded and raised from her. He went back to his place but he turned back halfway.

"By the way, have you named the dog?" he asked.

"Not yet." she answered.

"Because I have an idea... Barkspawn. Just think about it." Solona's lips unwittingly turned to a smile as she understood Alistair's pun. "Aww, I saw you were smiling. You should do more frequent. You are much prettier then." Solona bit her lower lip and tried to force some seriousness on her face. Alistair hummed once again and wished good-night.

"And do you like your name, buddy?" She asked from a dog, which joyfully liked her stroking hand. "Yes, he is nice, indeed." she said sulkily as closed her eyes and tried to rest a couple of hours, trying to ignore that pulsating pain in her head.

She had nightmares again, more likely visions. She saw a dragon, breathing violet fire, endless hordes of darkspawn killing everybody and destroying everything. Everything perished in darkness. And she and Alistair turned to ghouls, following the Archdemon orders mindlessly.

She startled from her dream in the middle of the night with a chocked scream. She panted heavily. She was so fed up that she couldn't sleep one damned night through without having these dreams. But it was different than her other nightmares. She wasn't in the Fade. She couldn't do anything but witness these horrifying images. They seemed so real that really terrified her.

She sat up and raked her face with her trembling hands and tried to calm down when someone touched her back gently. She looked up and saw Alistair.

"Bad dreams, huh?" He asked as sat down next to her. She embraced her thighs with her arms. Her whole body shook.

"A vision." she heaved. "I saw the end of the world. I saw the Archdemon. It seemed so real."

"Well, it is real, a sort of. The part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. That was your dream. Hearing them. The Archdemon talks to the horde and we feel it just as they do. That's why we know that this is a real Blight."

"Fuck.'" She cursed and buried her head into her thighs. If the nightmares the demons were wasn't enough now she had visions by the darkspawn. When she will able to sleep peacefully again? Or will she even sleep ever again?

Alistair tentatively took his hand on her back to comfort. In some inexplicable way this single gesture made her calm down. She felt as he stroke down his hand on her spine that her energies pacified.

"It takes a bit but eventually you will able to lock these dreams out. It was scary at first me, too." he said. Solona looked into his eyes and uncertainly smiled.

"Thank you, Alistair." And this somehow made him blush and he withdrew his hand immediately. He cleared his throat and jumped from her bedroll at once.

"That's what I'm here for. To deliver unpleasant news and witty one-liners." he responded as went back to her place.

It took two more days to reach Lothering. They saw the tents of the refugees from miles away. They flooded the Imperial Highway, filling the air with their sobbing and wailing. The lost everything, only their lives remained and it worth so little in these desperate times. It worth an old trinket or some food for what the bandits would kill them,

Solona, Alistair and Morrigan watched the marching lines of these poor souls and she had the feeling they already failed. Everything seemed hopeless and meaningless.

"What a picturesque view." Alistair stated as looked through the anguished faces.

"Well, we have to start somewhere." Solona answered as turned to him. She tried to be seemed confident or at least less terrified than she really was. "Are you ready?" she asked.

"No." Alistair answered.

"Good. Because me neither." and they entered to the village.

A/N: It's not my best writing, sorry. I try to use as little retelling as possible :) Anyway, thoughts about the chapter?