They left the Dalish camp the next day. The warm season was wearing thin, and Bethany had no desire to travel the Anderfels in the winter. "When I get to Weisshaupt," she muttered under her breath as she tied up her pack, "I'm staying until spring, no matter how much I hate everyone there."

"Weisshaupt?"

Bethany jumped. She hadn't heard Anders come up behind her. "Yeah. They're keeping a tighter rein on Warden mages these days, thanks to …" Remembering who she was talking to, she shrugged rather than finish the sentence. "I have to check in there once a year."

"Oh." Anders tightened his grip on his own pack and narrowed his eyes. "So you're taking me to Weisshaupt with you?"

"That's what I was instructed to do."

Anders grimaced. "Then I'll stay here, if it's all the same to you."

"I said I was instructed to bring you. I didn't say that's what I intended."

"What do you mean?"

Bethany glanced around the camp, where a half dozen elves stood within earshot. "Will you trust me long enough to get on the road?"

He paused for a moment, but eventually nodded.

Before they left, Bethany left a small bag with the clan's Keeper. "Some coin," she explained to Anders as they rode out, "and some lyrium to help the Keeper and the clan healer. The lyrium trade had gotten really strict lately, and most of the Dalish clans can't get their hands on it, even underground."

"Something else that's my fault, I assume."

Bethany raised an eyebrow. "If you're looking for me to reassure you, think again."

His answering laugh had a bitter note. "No, I know better than to expect that."

They rode in silence for a while. When Anders' horse edged ahead of hers, Bethany took the opportunity to study him. He wore a spare set of the Keeper's robes; he was skinny enough to fit into them, but they were a bit too short, leaving a length of pale skin open between the tops of his boots and the hem of the robe. His hair was long and wild, hanging unbound and limp around his face. He still looked wrecked, but he rode with a straight back and a determined look. "Feeling okay?" she asked.

He glanced over at her. "Well enough." A moment later, he asked, "So, how's your brother these days?"

She laughed. "Your guess is as good as mine. Last time I saw him, he was boarding Isabela's ship. I can only assume he's still there."

Anders' mouth quirked upward. "Never could figure out what he wanted," he murmured.

"Join the club." Anders looked at her, and she grinned. "Garrett Hawke. An enigma to everyone. Except Isabela, I guess."

"He drove me out of Kirkwall," Anders said suddenly.

Bethany's smile faded. "I know. I was there."

"I thought I remembered that. But I don't trust my memory these days." Anders sighed. "I don't know why I was so surprised. I actually thought he'd kill me. I wanted to die."

"Why?"

"Because that would have been justice. I killed innocent people. It's not like I didn't know that."

"Your pet spirit had a curious idea of justice, across the board."

"Vengeance." Anders shook his head. "Justice, vengeance. It's been a long time since I've been able to really tell the difference between the two."

They lapsed into silence again. As the sun climbed overhead, Bethany sighed. "You know, I didn't think you were entirely wrong."

"What?"

"Something needed to happen, at least in Kirkwall. Probably across the world. I was lucky enough to never have to live in a Circle, but I know enough to know the system was broken. Something needed to shock people into doing something." She shook her head, not looking at him. "I just don't think that many innocent people needed to die for it."

"I don't either." Startled, Bethany turned to look at Anders, who was staring at his hands, fisted in his horse's mane. "I murdered people. In cold blood. You think I don't regret that?"

"I didn't know what to think."

"I regretted it even when I was doing it. I hated myself." His mouth twisted into a grimace. "I tried to kill myself once. Hung a rope from the rafters in the clinic. I tried to climb up on that chair four times, and each time Justice took over and stopped me. He didn't think my death would bring justice to anyone, not even me."

"In that, at least, he was right."

"Was he? How many people would still be alive if I'd managed?"

Bethany couldn't think of a proper answer to that.

The day wore on, and Bethany went into the half-trance she always managed when riding for long periods of time. She nearly forgot Anders was next to her until she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked over just in time to see him slump forward in his saddle. "Hey!" She pulled over and grabbed the reins from his slack hands. "Anders!"

He pushed weakly against the horse's neck, grimacing as he sat back up. "I don't feel so well …"

Bethany managed to lead both horses to a nearby clearing before Anders lost his seat entirely. She slid from her saddle just in time to keep him from tumbling head-first into the dirt; instead, she ended up on her ass, with Anders tangled in her legs. "Sorry," he muttered. "I just … I can't …"

He passed out, leaving Bethany dirty, sore, and swearing. "Andraste's ass, what am I going to do with you?"

It took a while, but she managed to drag him away from the horses and settle him onto a blanket. By the time he woke, dusk had descended, and she'd built a fire. She watched him from across the fire. "You okay?"

He jumped at the sound of her voice, sitting up straight and staring sightlessly into the fire. When Bethany stood up and started making her way around to him, he scrambled back beyond the blanket and looked up with wild, terrified eyes. She stopped short. "Anders," she said softly. "It's me. It's Bethany."

Anders curled up into a ball and closed his eyes. Bethany watched him for a moment as his breathing slowed to something closer to normal. Only then did she close the distance and kneel beside him. "Anders?"

He stiffened when she touched him, but a moment later he exhaled and relaxed, leaning into Bethany. "Maker help me," he whispered.

Instinctively, Bethany sat on the ground and put her arms around him. Anders let himself relax against her, resting his head against her shoulder. She was struck once again by how thin he was. She lay a hand against his chest and rubbed in a small circle, until she felt his heartbeat slow. She wanted to ask him about it - what was wrong, what he'd dreamed about, what he saw when he stared into the fire. But the longer he clung to her, the less that seemed like a good idea. Even when his breathing and heartbeat returned to normal, Anders continued to shiver. Bethany could only tighten her arms around him and hope she was doing some good.

A few minutes later, Anders sat up and pulled out of her grasp. He turned to look at her; shadows from the fire danced across his face, making him look even more pale and eerie than he looked in the daylight. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice rough."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not." He averted his gaze. "It's really not."

"Do you want to -"

"Talk? No." He looked back at her. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she repeated.

Abruptly, Anders stood up. Bethany watched him sway on his feet, but he stayed upright and walked to the other side of the fire. A safe distance away, she thought, and her heart squeezed in a queer ache. She got up and busied herself heating a small pot of soup for dinner. Eventually, Anders cleared his throat. "I don't want to go back to the Wardens," he said softly.

"I won't make you."

"You have orders, you said."

"I do." She felt her mouth twist into a parody of a smile. She handed him a bowl of soup and watched as he reluctantly spooned a little into his mouth. Satisfied, she moved away again and sat down with her own dinner. "From the First Warden himself. He rarely deigns to talk directly to peons like me. I'm just a little girl, a mage from a backwater country who can't even claim to have been involved in the Ferelden Blight, other than to run away from it. So I was pretty shocked when he came to me."

"I never met him. We only got a couple of people from Weisshaupt when I was in Amaranthine." Anders let out a sudden laugh. "Mistress Woolsey was from Weisshaupt. She always reminded me of the worst of my Circle instructors, the ones that always disapproved when I tried to have any fun."

Bethany laughed. "I've spent a lot of time at Vigil's Keep, I know Mistress Woolsey. Believe me, she's the very soul of warmth and friendliness compared to most everyone else at Weisshaupt. Though, she's probably been worn down by her years at the Keep. It's fairly impossible to be aloof around there."

"I don't exactly remember the Keep fondly. I should," he admitted, "and I will forever be grateful to the Commander for not handing me over to the Templars. But all I can remember is feeling just as trapped there as I did in the Circle. I know it's unfair. There were good people there. After the Circle, I just hated being obligated to be anywhere."

"I can understand that. Me, I love the Keep," she admitted wistfully. "I wish I could be permanently assigned there. But apparently I'm more valuable to the Wardens on the road. Or in the Deep Roads." She made a face. "Ugh."

"Who's at the Keep these days? Anyone I'd remember?"

"Nathaniel's in charge of the Wardens there, now that the Commander is off … wherever he is. No one seems to know." She shrugged. "Oghren is still there, too. Varel and Mistress Woolsey … that might be it. The people change every time I leave, so I only know the people who've been there forever."

"Nathaniel in charge." Anders chuckled. He looked markedly more relaxed, and Bethany saw his bowl sitting next to him, empty. "Kinda sounds strange, considering I first saw him languishing in the Keep's dungeon for trying to assassinate the Commander."

Bethany raised an eyebrow. "Now that's a story I've never heard."

"Really? I bet Nathaniel's pretty embarrassed by it now, but I would have thought Oghren would tell every new Warden he could find, just to piss him off."

"If he does, I apparently missed it."

To her surprise, Anders launched into the story, followed by several other tales of his time at Vigil's Keep. As Bethany giggled, he finished up with, "... and then Cera slapped me and told me she would never speak to me again. Which lasted right up until I snuck into her bedroom that night."

"You didn't!"

"She and I had a history. We started at the Circle around the same time, but around there, she barely gave me the time of day. Getting her into bed was one of my proudest accomplishments as a Warden." He grinned. "I was clearly not a very good Warden."

"If she didn't electrocute you the minute you snuck in, you were apparently good at other things."

"Oh, I was. Trust me."

The slow grin that spread across his face made Bethany's heart flip in a way she hadn't felt since Kirkwall. To cover her blush, she stood up and gathered their bowls. "It's getting late," she said. "We should probably get some sleep."

His grin faded, and Bethany mentally cursed herself. "I think I'll stay out here for a while," he said, glancing at the small tent behind her. "You go ahead."

She left him staring into the fire. She could only hope he wasn't seeing whatever demons plagued him inside it.