Chapter 27: Bunnies and Small Talk

When I heard silence and felt something under me that wasn't the sharp rock I'd been too lazy to move from under my shoulder, I knew I was back at home. I didn't even open my eyes before succumbing and crying some more. When I'd finally cried myself out, I rolled onto my back and tried to take stock, again. It was dark, and I seemed to be alone, which meant I wasn't in the ICU, which was good. I fumbled around until I found a button that turned on the bedside light. I was in a two-bed room, but the other bed was empty. I still had the strange IV sticking out of my collar bone, but no other tubes or wires. I needed to go to the bathroom, though, and I actually felt hungry for once. I pushed the button for the nurse, and waited.

An older nurse came bustling in after a few minutes, smiling at me. She didn't seem shocked to see me awake, so at least someone had warned her about my weird habit of dropping into a coma at random and waking up just as suddenly. She did give me a strange look as I asked for my clothes before agreeing to even pee, and put on all my heavy gear and my boots.

"Are you okay to get up, sweetheart?"

I was confused. "Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, most people feel a little ... weak, after waking up from seventeen days in a coma." She eyed me, bouncing on my heels in my hiking boots. "Looks like you're good to go. Bathroom's over there - there's a shower if you want one later. I'll just go let your doctor know you're awake."

The bathroom was a shock. I looked nothing like myself in the mirror. Or, more accurately, I looked something like my Fereldan self. I'd lost some more weight - not enough to be unhealthy, but enough to uncover the fact that I might have a bit of a girlish figure one day. It changed the shape of my face, somehow, and with how my hair had grown, I thought that my companions in Ferelden might even recognise me.

My scalp was itchy, I noted, and I decided to take a shower later. I went back to my bed, fishing through the cupboard nearby, pocketing the coin and more bottles of shampoo. The nurse popped her head back in to tell me breakfast wasn't for another hour, but that the cafeteria was open if I wanted to go down there. I did, and ate the best, largest breakfast I could remember eating in years. It was nice to have fresh fruit, and eggs, and milk, and sausages, and not worry about how they'd been stored or what they were made from. For all that, it wasn't nearly as satisfying without all the teasing and chatting I'd become accustomed to during mealtime over the past weeks.

The doctor showed up not long after I arrived back in my room. The only thing he had to report was that in my absence, I'd been assigned a 'guardian' - someone to make decisions for me when I was unconscious. He was eager to have me meet with her as soon as possible, because he was still having trouble trying to keep me without extra accoutrements like feeding tubes, despite the forms I'd signed. I agreed to meet with her as soon as she was available, and the nurse left a message for her to come. We talked about my dreams a bit, including the odd burns that showed up and disappeared just as quickly. Neither of us had scientific explanations, so we just let it be.

I contemplated for a bit, and finally decided to show him my tattoo. His face was rather priceless when he saw it - fresh and inflamed as it was - and knew I couldn't have had it done in hospital. I think, despite everything, he thought my dreams were just my brain's way of making sense of my medical problem. He stared, open-mouthed, at the proof that not only was he wrong, he was very, very out of his depth. I shrugged - at least it wasn't just me whose mind was about to explode anymore.

During our conversation he caught me scratching my head a number of times, and finally pulled my hands away and took a look.

"What the hell?" He was suddenly almost shouting, and I couldn't understand it, and then I realised.

"Oh, let me guess. I've got sodding lice."

He stopped shouting and stared at me. " ... uh, yeah. How did you know?"

"I've had it before." True, though not the answer to the question he'd asked me. "And I have it in my dream. I guess I could use some Nix and some of those combs, hey?"

He seemed confused, and definitely didn't understand why I wanted several metal lice combs, but agreed without too much trouble. Promising to be back the next day, he wandered off to order lice treatment. I heard him shouting at the nurse outside, probably wondering how I'd managed to contract lice in hospital. I'll have to do something nice for her later, since I can't seem to convince anyone of the truth...

I treated myself with Nix while fully dressed, much to the nurse's amusement, and then showered as quickly as possible and got dressed again before allowing her to comb out the nits. I discreetly pocketed three of the combs while she wasn't paying attention. I considered stealing the bottle of nix, but there was nowhere near enough to treat eleven of us, so I gave up. Finally the court-appointed guardian showed up. I repeated my same requests - no tubes unless blood work showed I was sick, no ICU admissions unless I was truly on my deathbed. She looked at me like I was crazy, but nodded and took notes and I hoped she got the point even if she didn't understand why. I spent the rest of the day bored to tears.

I paced the hallways, walked to the cafeteria and back a dozen times. I practiced meditating, but that got me thinking about Alistair, and then my concentration was shot. I worked on my footwork like I did with Aedan, trying to make it look like tai chi or something. I pestered nurses and porters, cleaning staff and other patients, trying to stir up some sort of conversation, but they were all busy, and none of them were Aedan or Leliana. I missed my brother, and that triggered another bout of crying. I had difficulty falling asleep, unsure if it was due to anger at Alistair, missing everyone in Ferelden, or just a lack of the usual amount of exercise I'd been getting. It seemed strange to miss exercise, but walking all day had just become natural to me. Weird.

I was still hellishly angry at Alistair, but thinking about it, I realised – it still wasn't enough to make me want to stay on Earth. I was a Fereldan, if I had anything to do with the decision. I shook my head; the long-term implications were staggering. I put on my iPod headphones and listened to the songs I'd been teaching Leliana, and finally dozed off.

When I woke, I was in a tent. It was clearly one of ours, but looking around, it definitely wasn't the one I shared with Aedan. It wasn't Leli's, either. I briefly wondered if the Maker (or whoever) had a sick enough sense of humour to put me in Zevran's tent, but then I looked again and saw a tiny statuette by the pillow. A dragon. Oh for the love of God.

I sat up, looking at my boots and jackets with satisfaction, then finally crawled out of the tent. Alistair was sitting watch by the fire, and he jumped when I emerged. I gave him a dirty look, which shut him up nicely, crept across to Aedan's tent, and crawled in. He woke as I entered, and his face registered relief. He pulled me into a hug, and I sighed in contentment. I had to unpack my bedroll, and I quietly described waking in Alistair's tent as I worked.

"Your Maker has a sick sense of humour, you know. I'm starting to believe Leli - he isn't gone from this world. He's just far more sarcastic than you know, so you don't recognise him." Aedan was in stitches by the time I was ready and collapsed into bed. He reached out to hold my hand, as usual, and I fell asleep again.

Alistair was uncharacteristically quiet in the morning, but everyone else seemed happy to see me. I gave Aedan the last of my medieval coin and showed off the lice combs I stole. Everyone laughed about me discovering I had lice there too, and I stuck my tongue out liberally at anyone who giggled. I avoided Alistair and walked with everyone else, even skipping along beside Sten for a while. I wasn't exactly trying to rub it in his face, but I was sure he noticed and that left me feeling catty and hollow, instead of satisfied like I'd hoped. I sparred with Aedan, flirted a bit more with Zevran than usual, then set up a lice treatment station and spent the evening doing that instead of learning templar skills. We had a line going - three of us picking at a time (after convincing Leli to help), and again I managed to avoid doing Alistair's hair, though I wondered if Leliana had engineered that. And she pulled his hair a little harder than necessary too, I noticed with half a grin. I cried in bed that night, trying to stay silent and not wake Aedan, but he was too observant and pulled me into his arms. I sobbed, hoping no one heard, and finally fell asleep on his shoulder.

In the morning Alistair looked worse for wear, and something inside me softened. I was still angry, but I knew that I was over-reacting because of how I felt, knew he hadn't meant what he said, not really. And I still loved him, completely inappropriately. So I stopped purposefully avoiding him, but didn't give him the chance to discuss it either. That evening, I found a clearing like where we would normally sit, set up logs for both of us should he choose to join me, and sat down to practice meditating. After a few minutes he approached me, looking anxious.

"So show me that trick again? I still can't see the flow like you said I should." I kept my face carefully neutral, while his radiated relief. He sat down and dove into a discussion of magical auras, both of us pretending that nothing had ever happened.

The next day brought us a darkspawn ambush near the turn to Honnleath. Aedan and Alistair got jumpy, but the group of them must have been moving at a full run because we were in the thick of things before we'd had much warning. Aedan shouted for me to get back, but he needn't have worried; they ignored me, as always, and two of them fell to my daggers as they turned their unprotected backs to me. Once the group had been dispatched, I noticed Zevran looking at me strangely.

"What? I don't know why either, but darkspawn ignore me. It's like they can't see me or something. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You aren't..." he mimed gagging again.

"Yeah, well, they're not human." I saw his face go dangerously blank, and tried to think what I'd said that would bother him. "Wait, I mean ... they're not people. I don't see elves as any different from humans, Zev. I wasn't making a distinction based on race." He relaxed his expression, and I sighed. "Darkspawn ... aren't people. They're monsters. Why would I feel sick over killing monsters?"

"I have no idea. Why do you feel sick over killing rabbits?"

I blushed. "It's ... different. Rabbits are cute. And you expect me to eat them." The whole group laughed and I turned scarlet. "Yeah, yeah, make fun of the city girl."

The rest of the journey back to Redcliffe was uneventful, except for one night spent shivering while all our blankets were washed in Bodahn's hot spring. After another week of travel, we could see the lake in the distance. Our lice were gone, much to everyone's delight, and only once had I been stuck combing through Alistair's hair. It was soft and golden, and I fought off mental images of more pleasant reasons to run my hands through it. Even the residual anger wasn't enough to keep me safe.

Our return to Redcliffe was greeted by a very pleased Bann Teagan, a grim looking Theron – damn! Now I'm going to have to remember his alias again – and a surprise; Tomas. We were all so relieved to see him - well, Alistair, Aedan, and I at least - that we almost bowled him over in our hurry to exchange handshakes, shoulder slaps, and in my case, a hug and kiss on the cheek. Everyone was exhausted - we'd practically run the last few miles - and Eamon needed to be given the ashes, so we decided to send almost everyone to bed, except Alistair and Teagan who went upstairs to deal with the administration of said miracle cure, and Aedan and I who settled in the library with Tomas and Theron to bring them up to date. We told them about our travels, our new additions, Shale and Zevran, and the insane cult in Haven. Theron swore that once he was able, he'd send a detachment of military to mop up the remains of the cult and protect the urn.

Duncan was very interested in my new-found templar abilities, and the continued inability of the darkspawn to see me even when I was standing in front of them. We discussed it until we heard footsteps approaching.

Alistair and Teagan returned to report that Eamon seemed to be sleeping more naturally, and they hoped he'd rest overnight. Isolde was keeping watch. We decided to have Tomas tell everyone what was happening in Denerim in the morning, and scattered to find ourselves beds. Tomas insisted on walking me to my room, and I didn't object - I still had no desire to end up anywhere alone with Theron.

"Something happened, with Theron, didn't it."

It was actually sort of cathartic telling someone the whole story - I was keeping Aedan and Alistair in the dark to protect Theron's health. I knew Tomas would understand, and I was right.

"Thank you for keeping that secret. I can only guess what would happen if Aedan or Alistair found out."