I was having "A Day" when inspiration for this piece struck. The muse demanded that I write it immediately. You know how muses get sometimes...

For Shakespira and Tyanilth, the voices of reason...when we aren't plotting evil or playing games with a certain taciturn Teyrn. :p

Thanks for all your support. Writing is much more fun with you two ladies around!

EDIT: I wrote this on my smart phone; spell check is pretty flukey on it. Corrected some boo-boos within the story.

"Stupid, stupid. What was I thinking?"

Lhiannon sat on a crate of broken armor hidden away in a back storage room of the training area of Vigil's Keep. She wiped angry, hurt tears from her eyes, feeling her confidence running out of her as the tears fell. It was silly, really, but she found she could not help herself, which only made her feel even more ridiculous.

The source of her tears was an older mage that she knew from the Circle of Magi, Ardan, who had stopped at Vigil's Keep seeking shelter for the evening as he was traveling between Denerim and Kinloch Hold. He was an adept Spirit Healer, the one who had spotted the abilities in Anders as a youth and trained him as such. He was also not the most patient teacher with most mages; those that he deemed worthy of his knowledge benefited greatly from his skills, crankiness aside. Those that he thought less than adept in the healing arts generally left training his sessions shaking their heads, no matter their abilities in the other magical arts. Lhiannon had heard from more than one person that Ardan had, on occasion, reduced perfectly competent mages to tears.

Not even the Arlessa of Amaranthine, Warden Commander, and Hero of Ferelden was immune to his disparagements.

When Ardan arrived at the Vigil, Lhiannon thought it would be a good opportunity to ask him to give her some training and pointers on healing and rejuvenation magic; it would give Anders a much needed break from the cuttings and healings he endured as Lhiannon strove to improve her skills. Her skills were slowly improving with training and practice.

Or so she thought, until Ardan systematically told her in no uncertain terms how incompetent she was as a healing mage. "Though your primal skills are excellent, your healing skills are no better than a third year apprentice." He pointed to a deep gash in his arm that Lhiannon had healed moments before. "You closed this wound unevenly; scar tissue will certainly form here, marring the appearance of the skin." With an exasperated sigh, he ran his finger over the wound, his magic causing the skin to smooth out and the scar to vanish. He held his arm up in front of her, showing her the perfect skin. "How many scars have you left on your people?

"How were you able to adequately rejuvenate your allies' stamina or mana to survive in battle? You are fortunate neither you nor your companions fell permanently!

"You healed this wound on your hand? You could have at least hidden this scar within the natural fold of the skin.

"You should, perhaps, keep your magic to primal spells and let the competent, properly Harrowed healers handle the healing magic."

Lhiannon stood and kicked the box she sat on, growling as she wiped away the tears of hurt that continued to trickle down her cheeks. She had been excited to go back and learn the healing magics she put aside when it became clear that primal spells were her speciality. All the confidence that Anders helped her to build in recent months was gone, washed away by the tears brought on by Ardan's words. Perhaps he had truly meant to help in his own way, but his words hurt nonetheless.

Her tears were silly; she knew they were, but that did not stop them from coming. Sitting down once more, she continued to weep into her hands. She felt like a failure, as weak and brittle as she feared she was beneath the surface. Nothing she told herself to counter those feelings helped, not the words of encouragement from Anders nor the knowledge that she was a competent primal mage. She and Anders had worked hard on her skills, her progress slow but her confidence building with each spell cast. Maybe she had not progressed much at all and was just fooling herself. Maybe she should just put her healing skills aside; Ardan made it rather clear that her skills were just above poor. Maybe she should...

"Lhi? There you are."

Quickly wiping her eyes, Lhiannon turned to see Anders in the doorway, his expression turned to one of concern as he no doubt saw the redness of her eyes, the puffiness of the skin around them, and the glistening of tears on her cheeks.

"Lhi, what's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing, Andy," Lhiannon sniffled, waving away his concern with a flip of her hand. "Just me having one of those days."

Anders came forward, settling himself on the crate next to Lhiannon. "It's quite obviously not nothing. Tell me."

Lhiannon took a hitching breath before beginning her story. "You know Ardan was here, right?"

Anders leaned forward slightly, his weight resting on his hands as they gripped the edge of the crate. "Ah. You asked him for training, didn't you?"

"How could you tell?"

"Other than you crying, you mean?"

Lhiannon sniffled, her tears flowing anew as she thought about what Ardan had said to her. "I feel like such a failure, Andy. Maybe I should just set aside my healing skills. It's painfully clear that I'm no healer. It was folly to even try."

Anders reached over and gently grasped her chin, turning her head so that she looked at him. "Why do you give him so much power?"

"What?"

"Don't let him do that to you; don't give him that much power," Anders gently admonished her, bringing up a thumb and softly brushing a tear off her cheek. "If you want to improve your healing skills, do not let him stop you from doing it. No one will ever be as wonderful and talented and as powerful a spirit mage as he is, in his mind at least."

"How am I supposed to even try again?" Lhiannon asked, rubbing her leaking eyes. "I don't know that I can; he made me doubt everything. I don't even believe in myself anymore..."

Anders placed a hand on either cheek, smiling gently at her as she brought her downcast eyes up to meet his. "You go on by picking right back up where you left off." He squeezed her cheeks gently, the movement causing her head to move slightly. "You keep on casting healing spells. You practice. So what if you're not the best healer in Thedas; he's not the best healer in Thedas, as much as he likes to think he is. Trust me, Lhi; I've been on the receiving end of his denigrations before." He paused, pulling a loose nail from the crate and twirling it between his fingers. "Giving up isn't the Lhiannon Amell Mac Tir that I know; the Lhiannon I know would thumb her nose at old Ardan, learning all she could about healing just to drive him nuts with it and prove that he doesn't know squat."

Lhiannon gave Anders a small smile, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly as she fought to keep her composure. Anders reached up and tweaked her nose, earning a small chuckle from his friend. After a moment he took the nail he was holding and ran it across the skin of his forerm, opening a small wound in its wake. Lhiannon's eyes went wide as Anders took her hand, folding all her fingers toward her palm, save the index finger.

"Heal it, Lhi."

Lhiannon shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't."

"You can. You will."

"Andy, I can't..."

Anders took her finger and placed it on the freely bleeding wound. "I'll bleed out eventually, Lhi. If I'm unconscious, you're the only hope I have."

Lhiannon sighed and took a hitching breath, whispering the words to the spell in a broken voice as she ran her finger over the wound, watching as it healed into a thin white line. Anders smiled as she pulled her hand away, holding up his arm and waggling the fingers before her. "Good as new."

With a scoff, Lhiannon shook her head, a small smile crossing her face. "You're impossible."

"And you are welcome," Anders smiled, wrapping his arm around Lhiannon's shoulders and pulling her close to him. "Don't doubt yourself, Lhi. You can do anything you set your mind to. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Lhiannon sighed, leaning her weight into Anders as she rested her head against him. He always knew just what to say and for that, she would always be grateful.

Fin