Adara stood on the battlements by the front gate, looking over the parapet at the cart slowly making for the horizon. It was far enough away now that she wouldn't be able to tell which figure was Lily if she hadn't been watching the cart's progress from the beginning. Jowan stood next to her and let out a shuddering sigh.

Five of the Keep's soldiers traveled with the cart: two riding on either side of Lily in the back, one driving the oxen, and two more walking alongside. It was a far larger escort than a Chantry sister riding into Amaranthine required under normal circumstances, but these were obviously not normal circumstances. Adara didn't actually believe there would be any trouble. Lily was listless and quiet—and now definitely unarmed—with no more fight left in her. Adara also doubted that Harrith or any other members of the Faithful would waylay them in an attempt to free Lily. They had no more use for Lily: she had served her purpose, or rather, failed to do so.

Caution was still warranted. The lingering sharp ache in Adara's chest reminded her that she was not able to predict what the Faithful would attempt. Oliver wasn't pleased that she was up and about only two days later, but he hadn't argued with her about it. Not much. Adara had a suspicion that the healer knew Carver wasn't going to let her out of his sight. Even now she could see Carver from the corner of her eye down in the bailey. He was talking to—or arguing with—the smith, but Adara noted that he kept her in his line of sight at all times. It would have put an almost bashful smile on her face if her thoughts weren't dwelling on Lily.

She had not spoken to Lily again before telling Nathaniel to send her to Mother Leanna in Amaranthine. Adara had no desire to punish her and bore her no ill will. This was why they had wanted her out of Aeonar in the first place, wasn't it? Places like that could break a person in unfathomable ways, and Lily's actions were those of a desperate and confused woman who had been put through too much. Ill will or no, Adara still could not bear to see her again. Lily was a reminder that there were many things Adara could never fix, and the haunted desperation in Lily's eyes would stay with her for a very long time.

She tore her gaze from the cart in the distance and looked at Jowan. From the dark circles under his eyes, she wouldn't be surprised to learn that he hadn't slept since Lily first arrived three days ago. "How are you?" she asked quietly.

"I should be asking you that," Jowan replied without taking his eyes from the cart. "And don't say it isn't my fault," he added before she could say anything more.

Adara frowned. "But it isn't. Maker, Jowan, you can't possibly blame yourself for any of this."

"Lily never would have been put in this position if not for me. And neither would you. I never should have spoken to either of you. Not ever."

That hurt. "Honestly, Jowan, if you hadn't… it's not like our lives were going anywhere. All three of us probably would have died in Uldred's uprising. If you think about it, none of us had lives to ruin in the first place." That was perhaps more fatalistic than she normally allowed herself to be, but maybe Jowan needed to hear it. Their lives could have gone one way, and they had gone another instead. All three of them were still alive, which put them ahead of most of the people they had grown up with in the Circle tower.

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Jowan complained.

"I didn't say it to make you feel better," Adara lied. "It's the truth. Just like it's the truth that you're my friend and that I need you here. And it's the truth that you saved my life. Oliver told me that when he arrived, there was nothing keeping me alive except for your magic."

Jowan still wouldn't look at her, but Adara caught the beginnings of a very small proud smile on his face. "That's the first healing spell I've ever done that's worked. Guess the Maker knew it was important."

"I wouldn't give the Maker credit for it," Adara said. "It was you. You're a better man than you believe, and you need to start believing it. You're more than your worst mistakes."

More than your worst mistakes. Adara hoped that would prove to be true for her as well.

"You know, sometimes I wish you would just let me mope in peace," he whined. That sounded more like the Jowan she knew, and Adara smiled.

"Commander," someone called behind them.

Adara turned to see Nathaniel climbing the steps to join them. "Our message was received by one of Zevran's agents in Denerim, and we've received a reply." He handed her a rolled-up note:

You are not the first to tell me that Redcliffe is lovely this time of year. I will let you know when I have found our naughty new friends.

- Z

Adara sighed. "More waiting," she said with irritation.

"It's not like Oliver is going to let you do anything else," Jowan pointed out.

Adara wrinkled her nose. "I know." She looked up at the sun's position in the sky. "He's going to show up with another foul potion soon, too." She was comfortable enough with Jowan—and Nathaniel too, strange as it was—to not bother hiding the petulance in her voice. "Maybe I'll hide from him."

"No, you won't," Carver said as he joined them. "Seeing as how he sent me to fetch you." He sounded almost cheerful, so Adara supposed he had won whatever argument he was having with the blacksmith. "Are you coming peacefully, or will I have to carry you?"

She bit back a saucier reply while they were still in mixed company and only sighed theatrically. "I'll go," she said, pushing away from the parapet and waving a farewell to Jowan and Nathaniel.

"With the way you fuss over every little scratch on someone in your command, I can't believe you're this terrible of a patient," Carver said as they descended the steps.

"I'm in charge, aren't I? That means I can fuss over whoever I want and as much as I want," Adara said. She gave him a sidelong glance. "It isn't my fault that the healer found such a cute enforcer and that it's more fun to make him chase me down."

He huffed out a small laugh. "Here I thought you'd want me on light duty for now, so we can get heavy later."

Whatever they had was still new enough that it wasn't difficult to make the other one blush or get a dopey little grin on their face, and Adara tried not to do either of those things now. They passed through the main doors and down a corridor that would eventually lead to the infirmary where Oliver waited. "Do you promise?" she asked.

Adara tugged him into a wall recess that wouldn't particularly hide them from anyone's view, but she also didn't care much. She reached up to grab him by the collar and tugged, pulling his mouth down to hers. His hands went to her waist immediately, and she made a pleased sound against his lips when he pulled her tight against him, fingers digging into her hips.

Suddenly Carver pulled away. "Are you sure you're… I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm fine," Adara insisted. Her chest still ached, and she was weaker than usual from the blood loss—hence Oliver's potions—but she was restless. "I won't win a footrace around the bailey, but I'm more than fine enough for this." She grabbed him by the waistband with a mischievous smile. "I'll show you."

Carver did that nervous half-laugh he occasionally did when he wasn't certain of something, but there was nothing uncertain about the kiss he pulled her into. One hand splayed across her back to pull her close, and the other tangled itself in her hair. "The library's close," she murmured. "Probably empty."

"If you're trying to distract me… it's working, to be honest," Carver said as he moved to kiss her neck. Her eyelids fluttered at the graze of his teeth across her skin. "Healer won't be pleased."

"We'll tell Oliver that you had a hard time catching me." She reluctantly pulled away from his mouth and grabbed his hand to tug him after her towards the library. Or any other secluded place, if they happened upon one sooner. He slapped her ass with his free hand, and she let out a yelp that turned into a giggle.

By the time they reached the library, all heavy thoughts of Lily and assassins were pushed from her mind and replaced by something sweeter and simpler.