August 9:34

Meghan woke up in the early hours of the morning, the sun having just barely risen. She felt hollow, drained from dreams of darkspawn and blood and un-healable wounds. Trying to shake those thoughts clear, she rolled out of bed—only to find Carver, sitting in a chair in the doorway with his legs stretched in front of him, crossed at the ankles. His head was down, his chin was resting on his chest, and his breathing was slow and steady.

She hadn't forgotten what had happened the day before. The fight, Davis's death, or Carver taking care of her. But she hadn't realized he'd stayed. And slept in a chair in a position that would likely make his neck sore. But she didn't want to wake him, so she quietly stepped over his outstretched legs and went to light the kitchen fire.

She picked up the flint and steel and knelt in front of the fire. As usual, her first few tries did nothing. And, as usual, she cursed herself for not trying harder to learn the fire spells that Hawke and Anders were so good at. Hawke had tried to teach her once, but she hadn't had much success. He had just laughed and told her that her lightning bolts were just as good as his fireballs and that the fact that she'd become a better healer than Anders should be more important anyway. Not that her healing had done Davis any good. No, her healing hadn't been enough. She felt the lump in her throat and tried to swallow it back down, returning her focus to the flint.

But the flint wasn't working. And now she couldn't get Davis's face out of her mind. And she couldn't stop the tears from coming. She hadn't been able to heal him, to save him. She had failed.

The next thing she knew, Carver was on the floor with her, holding her tightly against chest, whispering over and over that it wasn't her fault. She hadn't even realized she had been apologizing to the image of Davis in her head.

Four days later, she found herself sitting at a table at the Harkness Arms. Carver hadn't left her side much during those four days. He didn't sleep at her house again, but he came every morning with breakfast and stopped by each afternoon to invite her to the Keep to join everyone for dinner. And when she declined each time, he came back in the evening with a fresh loaf of bread or basket of strawberries or some other snack from the dining hall. And he made her tea and sat with her on a couple of upturned barrels in front of her house until she went to bed.

On that fourth afternoon, when Carver invited her to the dining hall, she finally admitted that she was afraid to face everyone who she had failed. She didn't think they would want to share a meal with her. Carver just shook his head and walked back to the Keep. But when he returned that evening, he returned with a group. Gordie and Bear. Eira and Nathaniel and Kethan. Her Ostwick friends. And when Bear threatened to physically drag her out of her house, she agreed to go to the tavern with them.

As they left the Keep, it was Nathaniel who fell into step beside her.

They ran into another group of Wardens at the tavern, some of whom she didn't know. But they all greeted her and her friends like they would have on any other night. And ales were bought and cards were pulled out and stories were told. It was beginning to feel almost normal. And then Bear got up to get more drinks, and Nathaniel slid into the abandoned seat next to her.

"We think we've found where those bandits' hideout is."

"Oh?" Meghan glanced over at Nathaniel.

"There's some sort of tunnel system underneath Ansburg's orphanage. We think their leader lives down there."

Meghan just nodded, wondering why Nathaniel was telling her.

"I want you to come with us when we go," he finally said.

"No." She frowned at him. She wasn't going to get herself in the middle of another battle. She wasn't going to fight anymore.

Nathaniel shook his head. "You've heard those stories about falling off a horse right? How if you don't get right back on and try again, you'll be too scared to ever ride?"

Meghan resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. Of course she'd heard that, even when she had fallen off a horse herself as a child.

"It's not the same thing," she insisted.

Nathaniel sighed. "If you were a Warden, I'd just order you to come. But I can't. So as your friend, I'm asking for your help. You're the best healer I know, and I'd feel better with you at our side."

"Me, too," Eira chimed in from across the table.

"Aye." Gordie grinned at her from his spot next to Eira. "And you know you're better with a blade now than Carver, love. That's why he won't spar with you."

Carver choked on his ale, and the whole table burst into laughter. Even Nathaniel smiled.

As the laughter faded, Kethan leaned over and said quietly in her ear, "They are all correct. We are better off with you than without you."

Meghan looked at Kethan then back at Nathaniel. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her response. She looked around the table one more time, lingering for just a moment on Carver. He nodded, just a hint of a smile on his lips. And with a shake of her head, she turned back to Nathaniel and said, "I'll think about it."

"What're we thinking about? Arm wrestling?" Bear plopped another mug in front of Meghan, the dark ale sloshing over the sides, and looked around at the group.

"Yes, Bear." Meghan looked up at him. "I was just saying that I wanted to arm wrestle you."

Bear whooped and quickly starting clearing the table.

"You do know what sarcasm is, don't you Bear?" Eira asked with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh, no," Meghan said solemnly. "I was serious. I think I can take him."

"Not likely, kid," Bear said as he pulled Eira from her seat and settled in across from Meghan. "But I love that you want to try."

Meghan placed her elbow on the table and waited for Bear to grip her hand. Gordie reached across the table, shaking his head, and held their clasped hands together.

"You sure about this, love?" He asked. Meghan nodded, and he started counting down. She shot a quick wink at Eira.

As soon as Gordie reached "one" and let go of their hands, Meghan released a tiny bolt of lightning from her left hand under the table. Bear jerked his head up, his eyes widened, and Meghan easily pulled his massive hand to the table.

The cheers and laughter that followed roared in Meghan's ears. Bear, once he got over his shock, was shaking with laughter. After he caught his breath, he shook his head at her. "And that's why you're my favorite, kid."