Arwen sniffled into Alistair's shoulder, still torn up about her mother. It was too sad.
Daga was tending the fire and making them something to eat. Killing Archdemons was hard work, but losing a mother was even harder work - especially when that mother didn't even know you were her daughter. How could Arwen explain this paradox to her father? She snuggled into him more, wanting to forget it all. She almost cried again but made herself be brave.
Arwen clenched her fist and slammed it on the ground!
"Shh, it's okay, Arween." Alistair held her tighter to him and Arwen relaxed.
"Don't cry, Arwie," Daga giggled, handing her a cup of hot cocoa. "Thisis my special hot cocoa, my secret recipe my pa in orzammar taught me before I... before I left." Arwen sipped Daga's cocoa while her father held her - it was the perfect taste and temperature. It really warmed her up.
"Wow, Daga! This is really good!"
"Thank you."
"Yum! What do you put in it?" Daga just giggled and winked. Arwen yawned and stretched out a bit. She was just so sleepy after everything that happened. "Thank you for being so wonderful to me, you guys are precious to me." Arwen hugged them both before snuggling into her blankets and falling asleep next to Alistair and listening to the sound of the fire crackle warmly and the sound of Daga singing a jaunty Dwarven tune.