A/N: I despise real life, which is the reason for the lateness of this chapter (That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it). Once again I worship the Great and Wonderful Arquen who has made sure this chapter is fit to be seen by others.

Discalimer: I just play with them.

The Uncertainties of Flotsam

"Mira..."

Her eyelids would have snapped open, except they were gummed together by sleep. Yet, the twitch that ran the length of her body was enough to let Aveline know she was awake.

"You must be exhausted. I know for a fact that the Kirkwall Guard armor isn't comfortable for sleeping in or on." She commented, gently letting Mira slide down off her shoulder and supporting her as she found her footing.

"Thank you Aveline. It is Aveline, isn't it?" Mira questioned as she rubbed her eyes clear.

"Yes, and you're welcome." The woman answered.

Mira pulled her hands away from her face and looked around. They were no longer walking along the sandy paths of the coastline.

After she had stumbled and nearly fallen for the third time Anders had called them to a halt. He insisted they either needed to stop and let Mira rest or someone would have to carry her the rest of the way. She'd tried to protest, but Aveline had simply pulled her up and over her shoulder in a fireman's carry. Her armor had dug a little into Mira's belly and chest, but Aveline had simply told Mira to stay there and that was the end of it.

She remembered counting Aveline's footprints in the sand, knowing that each one took her away from the horror that had been the last few months.

She could still feel the unending pain and torture of the blades ripping through skin and muscle. Leaving burning, bleeding, lines in their wake. Hanging there while Caristiannne stood before her gloating and tormenting her; until she started screaming obscenities just to drown out the words. And then the bright flash of mage-called lightning striking her and washing agony throughout her already pain-wracked body...

She was glad not to be there anymore, yet those footprints also took her further towards the unknown which was almost as terrifying.

She came back to the present and looked around the large room where she was now. The floor was packed earth and the walls rough, beige brick. A few moth-eaten tapestries in dull orange hung along the walls and from the high ceiling. Two large doors in old, slightly warped, grey wood opened out, and she could see a small flight of stairs ahead. Four columns in the same beige brick, two on each side of the entrance, towered up and into the roof.

'Where am I now? What is this place?'

Along one wall patched cloths marked out small rectangle areas. Some were fully blocked out, but a few were tied back, revealing small, low, beds. At the end of the line of little 'rooms' was a larger blocked out square. In the open area were a few small trestle beds and some benches.

'It looks like some sort of Renfaire sickbay.'

Despite its ragged looks the room seemed to be filled with a sense of peace. Safety and wellbeing infused the room like the scent of some rare incense. It was then that she realised Aveline had put her down in the middle of this room. She stood there, with nothing at her back and she felt sudden terror - she had not even checked to see who was behind her!

'Idiot! You aren't safe here!'

Her heart began pounding uncontrollably and she practically felt the rush of adrenaline through her veins. She whipped her head around, quickly cataloguing only a few strangers in the room she didn't recognise. Then she quickly backed away to the wall behind her until she almost touched it.

Aveline questioned "Are you all right?" She stepped towards her, and while Mira managed to quell the urge to raise a hand to try and protect herself she couldn't hide the flinch from the other woman.

'If she'd wanted to hurt you she could have done it any point while you were asleep.'

Mira hung her head in shame and pushed her palms against the rough wall, hoping the sensation would ground her.

"I just...I don't...l-l-like l-l-leaving my b-b-back exposed." She stuttered, and hated herself for it.

"It's alright." Aveline said softly, her sharp green eyes boring into Mira's. "What you feel is alright. It's ok to be frightened, just breathe and let it pass." She instructed.

'Just breathe, just breathe. You aren't safe but you're not in danger yet.'

She felt her heart slow with her breath. Felt herself relax as if she was a piece of string that had been untangled. Something about the tone in Aveline's voice. The confidence in the way she stood, and the competence in her gaze was soothing. It spoke to something in Mira, calmed and grounded her.

"You're very good at that. Talking people down." She complimented Aveline; the woman shrugged with a soft rasp of metal.

"It comes with being a Guard; some people who commit crimes do it out of desperation and it requires a gentler touch. Unfortunately, there are also those who deserve no compassion, and then we have to deal with the victims...or their families." Aveline told her. Mira nodded her understanding.

"Where are we anyway?" She asked.

"This is Anders' clinic in Darktown. It's possibly the only safe place in this part of the city." Aveline told her.

'Oh, I remember that. What was it he said?'

"I'm sorry, there isn't much I can do here – whatever I could manage would probably be undone by the time we got back to Kirkwall."

"Luckily he hasn't got many patients here right now. Things have calmed down in the last five years, especially after the Blight was defeated."

'The Blight? What in the hell is that?'

She was about to ask Aveline what she meant when Anders called out to them.

"Well we'll at least have some privacy to tend to our wounds now." The healer announced as the group drifted toward the two women.

"I would welcome your assistance, Hawke. When we were captured I was hit across my skull and the headache has not left." Fenris admitted, turning to the dark-haired mage.

"Sure Fenris, just-" Hawke began.

"Still don't trust the 'abomination', eh Fenris?" Anders said pointedly, glaring at the elf, who only gave a bland stare in return.

And suddenly the tension was so thick in the air you could practically chew it.

"I simply thought you would wish to tend to Mira, as she was much more grievously injured by the magister than I was." His tone was calm and low, but his derision was evident.

'This isn't good...What happens if they start fighting? Oh gods, will I be able to get past them to the doors?'

"Must you two go at it all the time? Especially in front of our guest..." Hawke chastised, gesturing to Mira.

'What? No, don't put me in the middle of it!'

Suddenly, everyone was looking at her, and she couldn't meet any of their gazes. She hung her head her gaze focused at the floor, and tried to remember how to breathe.

'Don't look at me, just forget I'm here, I'm not important, just leave me alone, please?'

"Enough! I'm sure we all have things to do, don't we?" Aveline questioned as she strode forward, mercifully taking the focus of the others off Mira and she could feel herself breathe again.

"Oooh, and now you're getting all 'Commander of the Guard' on us, Big Girl?" Isabela teased.

"Shut up, whore." Aveline replied, sighing as if it was something she said often.

"Um, there is one thing..." Anders said hesitantly "I need to talk to you about something Mira."

"Yes?" She asked.

'Oh gods please don't let this be about what I think it is.'

"I'm going to sound utterly stupid saying this if I'm wrong, but I don't think I am." Anders said with something like regret in his voice "You...aren't from here are you?"

'Oh shit. No, don't ask me this. I can't lie but what can I say?'

"Well of course she isn't from Kirkwall Anders!" Merrill exclaimed. Anders shook his head.

"I don't mean it that way Merrill and I think Mira knows what I'm talking about."

'Oh fucking hell. What can I do? What will they do?'

She stood staring at the blonde mage, desperate to take back the last few minutes. She didn't want to talk about this, not to anyone. Caristianne had never found out; it had been the one thing she had been glad of, she couldn't imagine what she would have done to her if she had known.

'I can't lie, not about this; I'd never get away with it...'

Mira sighed and pressed the fingers of one hand across her brow bone. "Even Caristianne never cottoned on. How did you know? " She asked dejectedly.

'Time to face it, I can't ignore it anymore. But what will change now?'

"I have some...unusual talents and well, with you bleeding all over the place..." Anders trailed off.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Varric demanded as he stepped forward "Are you seriously telling me that Little Songbird here is, what, a Demon, Blondie?"

"What?"

The exclamation came almost simultaneously from everyone else, and they were all talking at the same time, trying to question Anders and arguing with each other. Yet through the disbelief and anger in everyone's voices what she heard in Fenris' made her gaze jump to him and the look on his face...

He looked so livid, betrayed – at her, and she felt fear pulse through her.

'Please, this isn't my fault; I never asked for this, I never wanted this!'

"NO!" She yelled, and everyone was quiet.

"She's not a Demon, or even a Fade spirit." Anders said quietly "She's just...different. Her blood is different."

'Why now? Why bring this up now? Goddamnit Anders!'

"Then what exactly are you?" Fenris asked, and those green eyes were flinty and wary. And that mistrust hurt, because she felt close to him for no other reason than he knew. It had been in his eyes when she asked about his escape. He knew what it was like to be used by a Magister. And right now, alone as she was, she desperately needed to feel close to someone, anyone.

'I don't want to be alone, in the dark, in pain.'

"I'm human. I'm no more dangerous than any other person, and a lot less than many." Mira stated, keeping her voice firm.

'I have to convince him, them. I'm not dangerous, gods; I've never been so helpless in my life.'

"So, how did you...get here?" Sebastian inquired.

Mira sighed.

'This is going to go down well. They'll never believe me'

"I don't know."

"Ha, that's convenient." Isabela snorted.

"Oh, I know." Mira snarled. And suddenly she was furious. With that arrogant, vicious, bitch Caristianne, with that lying, cheating, bastard Atlas, with Anders for bringing this up, and with herself, for letting it all happen. "One minute I'm swimming in the ocean with my lover, the next I'm drowning in a storm that came out of nowhere. I know exactly how it sounds. Like some sort of tale. In fact it is a story where I come from. Quite a common one."

"What do you mean?" Merrill asked curiously.

'She seems to be the only one not too bothered. I'd swear she thinks it's fascinating. I don't know whether to be thankful or worried about that.'

"There are all sorts of stories, myths, and legends about people who end up somewhere they shouldn't be; in the realm of the dead or paradise, in the past or the future, even in different worlds. Sometimes the people in these stories try to go to these other places, but a lot of times they don't. I even remember a few where someone just falls asleep and ends up somewhere else." She explained.

"I remember an Orlesian tale about a woman who becomes trapped in her dreams..." Aveline commented.

"I wish this was a dream!" Mira exclaimed "I wish this wasn't real. I don't even know how long I spent there, being cut open and bled like meat being hung! That isn't the worst of it! I had a life. I had a family. My mother and father, and little brother. Even Atlas. Sure he may have, on reflection, been a narcissistic bastard, but I didn't know it until we ended up here! And now...? I'm so utterly lost here it's almost inconceivable! I don't know anything about this place at all! And the only person I thought I knew is dead!"

She had been screaming, and her throat felt raw. A headache thumped in her skull to the beat of her heart. She sunk to the ground, ignoring the pain, and let her head fall on her knees. She felt drained and tired, empty.

"I want to go home, but I don't think I can..." She whimpered quietly.

She closed her eyes in the silence, and even though she fought them back her eyes filled with tears.

'Why is this happening to me? Why can't I wake up and this all be a dream?'

After a seeming eternity of silence and warm wetness tracking down her cheeks she heard the rustle of cloth. Looking up she saw Hawke kneeling some distance before her. She hadn't really had the time to study the other man before now, and she took in every detail as she blinked away her tears.

His hair was dark and slightly mussed, but his beard was neatly trimmed. His nose was sharp and his jaw strong. His skin was tanned and weathered, and he had eyes the colour of rum, a light-filled brown.

"For what it's worth, I do believe you." He said softly, a gentle baritone with a hint of gravel. "If there's some way to help you I will."

She very badly wanted to believe that, but could she really trust him, trust any of them? As desperate as she was not to be alone anymore she would not be used again, she'd rather die first.

'Let's just see how this plays out, perhaps this is a chance worth taking. If it isn't, cross that bridge when you get to it.'

"Thank you, Hawke." She said.

His smile was just a quick uplifting at the corners of his mouth, but it made him seem much younger.

Fenris sighed. "Hawke, you are far too quick to lend aid and trust. This will lead to trouble." The tone was gently chiding, but those moss eyes were sharply fixed on her.

"Don't mind him. Sometimes I don't think he trusts anyone, including me." Hawke said light-heartedly.

"He means well. I wouldn't believe me either." Mira shrugged, and then turned her own gaze to the elf's. "I don't expect your trust, or expect you to believe anything I've told you. But this at least is the truth; I never wanted what Caristianne did to me."

For the second time the room was filled with silence.

"Well, I don't know about anyone else but I need to get back to the barracks." Aveline finally commented.

"There's a meeting of the Merchant's Guild tonight. After last meeting I 'missed' they know to look for me here." Varric grumbled.

"Elthina will probably be worried; I should let her know we are safe." Sebastian said.

"I need a drink." Isabela stated. "Unless someone has a better offer?" She questioned flirtatiously, giving Hawke a coy glance.

"As much as would love to my Lady of the Seas I have to make sure Fenris here hasn't cracked his skull." Hawke said in a voice laced with regret.

"What about you kitten, you heading back to Lowtown?" Isabela asked Merrill.

"No, thank you Isabela. I'll stay here for now and help Anders with Mira." Merrill replied.

Mira watched from the floor as they departed in a flurry of farewells. Soon it was just herself, Merrill, Anders, Fenris and Hawke left in the clinic.

"All right then Mira; time to let Anders fix you up, yes?" Hawke asked and offered her his hand to help her stand.

She took the offered hand, slightly nervous, but there was no one she could have stood without the assistance. He let go as soon as she was on her feet.

Anders approached Mira and cleared his throat uneasily.

"From what I saw when I examined you in the caves the first thing you'll need is for the wounds to be cleaned out. I will heal them with magic, but if any dirt or grit remains in the wounds and I seal it in it could fester under the skin and poison your blood." He stated.

She tensed but nodded her consent. "What do I need to do?"

Anders gestured to one of the small, closed off rooms and her heart once again began racing.

'Be calm, just be calm.'

"Merrill if you could set some water to boil and bring it to me with some clean cloths?" Anders asked.

Merrill nodded and walked off. Mira began to move towards the room Anders had indicated.

Anders walked with her to the room, and gestured for her to lie down on the small bed. She was grateful it was low enough for her to clamber onto it without too much effort. She settled onto her stomach with her head turned to the left to watch Anders' movements.

She sucked in a deep, calming breath. And another, and another.

'The cloth is thin; the others can probably see the movement behind it. I don't think Merrill, and probably Hawke and maybe even Fenris would let him hurt me.'

"Come on Fenris; let me have a look at your head." Mira heard Hawke suggest beyond the cloth.

Merrill came back carrying the water and cloths, the sight of the dark haired elf calmed her greatly. She gently set the water down on a small side table as Anders walked over to her. She could feel his gaze and it made gooseflesh rise up over her skin. She heard him sigh.

"Your wounds have started scabbing over and they've stuck to your clothes, I have to get them off.''

It didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. In any case Merrill at least had seen everything she had. Anders continued, perhaps taking her lack of reaction as permission.

"I'll probably have to cut the cloth. I'm sorry, but this will hurt, a lot."

That bothered her. She pushed herself up on one arm to look at the healer. He held up his hands in defence as she stared at him.

"I'm sorry, I really am. If you want, there is a...a spell. It will make you sleep." He offered.

Magic...It made her nervous; she had never experienced anything like it before now. And when she had it had been at Caristianne's hands. Letting Anders heal her was one thing...

'You're not exactly a stranger to pain anymore, are you?'

She lay back down on the bed.

"No spell, just do what you have to do." She said.

She could have sworn she heard Anders sigh.

"Alright, I'm starting now." The healer warned.

At first it was just the noise of the fabric being cut, and a slight tug on her skin. And then...

It felt like the skin was being ripped off. Mira jerked and slammed her forehead into to bed, pressing it down as though the pressure could block out the pain. She heard water dripping and then wet fire raced across already abused skin. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists and willed herself to stay still.

'Oh hell, oh fuck, it hurts, it hurts, IT HURTS!'

"Mira" She heard Merrill's voice and felt a soft hand grip her wrist. "Mira, you need to keep breathing."

She obeyed, sucking in air past her teeth. And then let it out in a moan as another strip was pulled off.

"Here, take this." Her hand was uncurled and something placed in her palm. It was rough and dry and alternately smooth and spiky.

Her shell. She remembered Merrill offering to keep it safe for her. She gripped it and let the pain wash through her.