A/N: This was written for a Dragon Age Writer's Corner Challenge; to write a Holiday Fic. I decided to go with the oh-so-popular version of a Christmas Carol and set it on Firstday, the New Year's of Thedas. If you want to see other holiday fics, go to the DWAC forum, in the challenges and prompts section. Brilliant writers, all of them. I don't own any of these characters, Bioware built the sandbox that I play in. Also of course, thanks to Charles Dickens, who's masterpiece I'm desecrating. Pleaseread and review, I'd love to know what you think!

Anders was dead to begin with. There was no doubt whatsoever about that. Diana Hawke had done the deed, held the knife to his throat, watched his blood run red on the pavement, so what else could there be? Anders was dead as a doornail.

Diana Hawke was alone now; the Champion of Kirkwall, and now the Viscount was a hard, bitter, and cynical woman. Men and women avoided her gaze in the streets, children cowered in fear from the person who's accomplishments made her the most infamous leader in the Free Marches. And that suited her just fine. She preferred to go through life unmolested in the streets, and dealt very little with the problems of the people below her.

Once upon a time – it was Firstday Eve – Diana was busy in the office of the Viscount's Keep going over the latest budget allotments. The room was freezing cold, for Diana no longer cared for the vagaries of weather, and she didn't want to spend precious money trying to heat it. The only other person in the room with her, in fact the only person in the whole Keep was her manservant Bodhan Feddic. He shivered and shook and stayed as close to the lone lamp as possible.

"Happy Firstday, coz! Maker bless you!' exclaimed a happy voice. It was Charade, Diana's cousin; a pretty brunette girl made even prettier by the healthy pink glow in her cheeks, a result of her exercise in the cold. Diana made a sound of disgust.

"Come on, you don't really mean that." Charade coaxed.

"I do. Happy Firstday? What right have you to be happy? You and Gamlen are still in Lowtown aren't you?" The Viscount scowled, and Bodhan took the opportunity to exit the room.

"So? Why are you so angry? You're in Hightown aren't you?" she countered. Diana only grunted in reply. "Don't be so mean, cousin."

"What else can I be, when I live in a world like this? Everybody's problems fall to me, they all want my money and my time. Firstday is the worst of all, and why? What's Firstday to you or anyone but a time for finding yourself a year older, and the world getting worse? And everyone expects me to care, and to do something about it. I tell you, I don't."

"Diana! You really can't be serious. Firstday is a time for hope, for looking forward to the future and a new year. It may not make us rich, but it rekindles our resolve and our dreams. We all need a day to hope, Maker bless. You do too. Come on, dine with Gamlen and I tomorrow." Charade beseeched her obstinate cousin.

"No. Good afternoon Charade."

"I don't understand why you hate me so. It's not like I ask you for money."

"Good afternoon." Diana's voice was firm. Charade took the dismissal for what it was and left Diana with a sigh. The angry Viscount turned back to the paperwork on her desk when she was disturbed by a cough from her manservant.

"What is it Bodhan?"

"Aveline and Sebastian are here to see you, messere."

"Show them in. I suppose I must see them." The guard captain and the exiled prince entered the chamber, shivering involuntarily at the sudden drop in temperature. Diana remained seated.

"Hello Hawke." The redheaded guard spoke first, standing at attention. Diana nodded once, ignoring the lack of title, and Sebastian cleared his throat.

"Hawke... Viscount... it's Firstday Eve. As you are no doubt aware, we still have a large number of refugees, from both Ferelden and from Starkhaven. We were wondering if you would like to make a donation to a Chantry fund that would provide them with some cheer." Sebastian's face was passive, but his eyes glimmered with a small hope. Aveline next to him looked a bit skeptical.

"I'm sorry, is there something wrong with the provisions in Refugee Law that I put forth?" Diana asked snidely.

"No. It provides them with what they need, of course, but it being Firstday, we thought you might want to make a personal donation... engender goodwill among the people. You being from Ferelden..."

"No." Diana said, holding a hand up to stop Sebastian. "I don't need your speech. I've done what I can for the refugees. If they want more, they can work for it."

"But..." Sebastian started to say, but a glance from Aveline made him subside.

"Sebastian, Diana has made her position clear. Good day Hawke." Aveline took the flabbergasted priest by the shoulders, and steered him out of the room. Diana was left alone with Bodhan and she turned her attention towards him.

"I suppose you'll want tomorrow off, then?"

"Yes messere. I haven't been as good a father to Sandal as I would have liked; it would be nice to spend the day with him."

"And what will I do without you?" Diana smiled sardonically; if it was a jest she was trying to make, it fell completely flat. Bodhan opened his mouth, a pleading look in his eyes. Diana sighed and waved him away before he could speak again. He removed himself from her office, presumably to take care of some last minute chores. Diana looked at all of the paperwork piled up on her desk. Too much to do, and too many interruptions. She decided to go home and come back in the morning. Nobody would be here tomorrow, maybe she could get some actual work done then. She left the Keep, and went out into the cold evening air, without even throwing on a cloak. It was not a long walk to her mansion in Hightown, but it became interminable with everyone wishing her a happy Firstday. She was very happy to see the door of her home, and the large knocker that had Anders' face on it.

Now that was odd, for the knocker never had Anders' face on it before, at least not to Diana's knowledge, but there was no doubt that the mage was in the middle of her door. She blinked rapidly, and the phenomenon was gone; it was a normal knocker once again. She must just be tired. She pushed her way inside with an irritated grunt, and then slammed the door behind her.

The slam echoed all over the the empty mansion. Inside was dark and cold; there were only a few lights left on by Diana's servant Orana; who had long since departed for her own Firstday Eve celebrations. Diana made her slow and careful way up to her bedroom suite, extinguishing lights as she went. Her room was slightly warmer than the rest of the house; there was the remnants of a fire, and beside the chair there was a cup of cold tea and stew left out by Orana. Diana slumped down, and drank the weak tea slowly. She picked up a half-open book and started to read by the light of the dying fire. As it crackled and spit, the rogue found herself drifting off, the book slowly dropping to the floor.

A loud noise made her sit bolt upright. Diana's heart palpitated as the clanging and banging continue for what seemed like hours, though it may only have been a few seconds. It seemed to be coming closer and closer.

"No..." Diana whispered to herself. "I won't believe it." All of the color drained out of her face when it passed through her door before her eyes. The dying flame flared up suddenly, illuminating the face of the ghost, and subsided again.

It was him. Anders; his blond ponytail, the Tevinter robes, just a hint of scruff on his chin. But he wore a metal chain; unlike anything he'd ever worn before. It appeared to be made of swords and daggers; helmets, gauntlets and boots, most stamped with the image of Andraste. He was also transparent and fuzzy looking, like he was still partially in the Fade.

"What... what do you want with me?"

"Much." It was Anders' voice, unadulterated.

"Are you Anders?" She had to ask. She still didn't quite believe it.

"I was."

"Was, then." Diana said, raising an eyebrow. "Picky, picky, for a shade."

"You don't believe it's me." The ghost said simply.

"Not really, no. I've seen a lot of things, Anders. You know I have. Walking skeletons, revenants, demons of all sorts, but a spirit such as you? Never. I think I'm asleep, or that there was something in the stew to cause such visions." Diana said with far more bravado than she felt. "You can't really be here."

With that the ghost of Anders shook his chain horribly and moaned. He stretched out his neck, revealing a thin line across it that even in death still seemed to seep blood. Diana fell out of her chair and onto her knees.

"Do you believe in me now? I still bear the scar you gave me!" He moaned horribly.

"Yes!" Diana cried. "I do. But why Anders? Why?"

"A warning. You see this chain I bear?" He gestured to the laden cable around his waist. It was long, and dragged behind him like a tail. Diana nodded slowly.

"It is representative all of the souls I've stomped on, all of the people I've hurt and killed. Mine's is relatively short; for I was a healer; but as you can see here my sins against humanity far outweigh what good deeds I did. Now my sins weigh heavy on my soul, and I know no peace."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Hawke, yours is much longer than mine. You have been responsible for just as many troubles as I, with even less good deeds done in your name. And it's gotten even worse since my death. And believe me Hawke, this chain is heavy and burdensome, even in the Fade. This is a fate that no one should bear. But you're not dead, Diana, you can be better. You still have that chance."

"How, Anders?" The Champion of Kirkwall was practically pleading with the ghost.

"You will be haunted by three spirits."

"More?" She sighed resignedly. "I think I've just had about enough of spirits and ghosts. No offense Anders."

"Without them, you cannot hope to change your ways. Expect the first tomorrow night at midnight."

"Couldn't I get over with all at once? I'm a busy woman."

"No. Expect the second on the next night, and the next the night after that. You won't see me again Diana; but remember what has passed here." Anders said, pointing at her. She became aware of a low howl in the air, joined by incoherent screaming and wailing in an unholy symphony. Anders listened for a moment, then suddenly flew out the window. Diana followed him; there, dancing about, were so many spirits and Fade demons flying about the air. Within moments, they all crossed the Veil again. Diana felt much shooken up, and could not sleep for a long while. She crawled into her covers and shivered.

"Bah." She tried to think to herself, but fatigue overcame her nerves and she was asleep with the thought half-formed.