Self-reproach

Anders had not seen Mira in over a week. He knew that she had done several jobs across town, but she had not asked him to join in a single one of them. She hadn't come by for healing lessons either, but had sent a note saying that she had been too busy. Anders was beginning to worry that he had really messed up this time, and found himself more than eager to mend their relationship. He tried to take comfort in the fact that the weekly basket still arrived, which she was still to admit was coming from her. So he was almost overjoyed to see her in The Hanged Man that evening. She was standing with Isabella at the bar and was dressed in a deep blue tunic with white sleeves, dark pants and boots. Her hair was loose as always and hiding her face. Neither she nor Isabella noticed his approach. What he heard almost made him regret it.

"Oh, you are blushing, kitten," Isabella cooed.

"I am not!" Mira denied.

"I saw how you were looking at him. He is cute in a way," Isabella shrugged.

"In a way? If the Maker were a woman, all men would look like him," Mira argued in a light tone.

Anders turned his head and saw the man they were talking about. He was tall, with long dark hair, a trimmed beard surrounding his mouth and stubble along his jaw. Anders felt something twist inside him as he looked at the handsome man, who was laughing and looking carefree. He looked a close approximation to someone Anders had once been, but a far cry from the man he was now. The man looked up and smiled at Isabella and Mira, gesturing for them to come closer.

"Come on, sweetness. This is going to be fun," Isabella said with excitement.

"No thank you. You go ahead," Mira replied, turning her head, hiding behind the black veil.

"What? Why? You were the one who thought him cute." Isabella raised an eyebrow, looking closely at her friend.

"It's one thing to watch, another to approach. Besides, it's not important to me and you'll have fun," Mira smiled.

"Are you lacking confidence? You used to have such a healthy appetite for a good tumble," Isabella purred.

"Please don't push," Mira said quietly. Anders was unable to see her expression through the concealment of her hair.

"Kitten, you have..."

"Isabella, leave her alone," Anders interrupted.

Mira turned quickly to face him, and he could see she was blushing.

"You two are no fun. Well, enjoy each other's company, while I go hunting," Isabella chuckled and walked over to the man.

Mira turned away from him again and leaned against the bar, her hair covering her face. Anders didn't know why, but he could tell that she was sad and tired, even as she did her best to hide it. Without thinking, he reached out and brushed her hair behind her ear. She froze at the action, and he could not decide if it was from his touch or the sudden exposure. She shook her head and the smooth silk hair swung down over her face again.

"No, don't do that. Don't hide from me," he said softly, and made her turn to face him.

He placed a finger under her chin to raise her face to him, the black veil of hair falling back like water. She looked weary.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you. I had no idea how..." he began.

"It isn't you. I have been reading the diaries, despite you telling me not to, and my nightmares are getting worse. I have avoided you because I didn't want you to worry," she explained with a small downcast smile.

Anders chuckled sadly.

"I always worry about you. But you should really stop reading them, if they cause you so much distress," he said kindly, but firmly.

"And what else should I do? I need to know the wrong I have done, in order to right it,"

"Would you trust me to read them? Then I will find that which is still relevant and you can be spared the pain of the rest," he offered.

"Would you stop this folly? We have more important things to attend to!" Justice objected.

"I have to help her. Can't you see she is suffering?"

"I can, but she is also a grown woman, thus capable of dealing with her own affairs. She does not need a father," Justice pointed out.

"I am not trying to be her father!" Anders objected.

"Then what? Her lover? Or do you intend to marry her? You know that path will only cause her misery."

Anders rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I couldn't possibly ask that of you. You have done so much already and..." Mira began.

"Tell you what. If you help me in the clinic, I'll help you with this. Simply two friends doing each other a favour," Anders suggested with a smile.

"Alright... you can read my father's diary and I can read my own. Half the trouble then," she smiled and continued, "Would you mind following me home then? I would like to give it to you straight away, so I don't get tempted," she suggested, and walked towards the door.

"You are actually tempted to read them?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"In a morbid sort of way." She shrugged, and Anders had to admire how well she hid her feelings. Of course, with her hair disguising her expressions most of the time, it was not as challenging.

Outside, a drunk man bumped into them and rolled onto the street, wailing in over-dramatic distress, far exceeding the actual pain he was feeling. In fact, Anders believed the man far too drunk to feel any at all. Mira and he met glances momentarily and he could see her suppressing a chuckle. Regardless, she helped him to his feet and when he nearly fell over, dragging Hawke with him, Anders grabbed hold of him as well. Anders held his breath after getting a whiff of the citizen's alcoholic odour.

"Oh, you are going to have some hangover in the morning," Anders chuckled.

"Where do you live? Can we take you home?" Mira asked kindly.

"I can't go home. Macha will kill me," the man grunted.

"Macha...?" Mira repeated, turning suddenly to Anders.

Before they could ask any further questions however, the man broke free of their grasps and wobbled through Lowtown. Anders turned to Mira, who was biting her lower lip.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

"I think I got a letter from his daughter, thanking me for saving her brother. She mentioned something about things being hard for them," she replied, and looked at him as if seeking for answers.

As they began walking towards Hightown, Anders explained the circumstances.

"Keran was a templar, caught and tortured by some blood mages who tried possessing the templars with demons. When we found him, I personally made certain Keran wasn't possessed. When we returned to the templars, the Knight Captain wanted to expel him from the order. Keran asked for yo – Mari's support and..."

"I didn't give it, so he lost his livelihood," Mira finished. "I wonder if it was worth it," she mused after a few moments.

"If what was worth it?" he asked, confused.

"If turning on everything and everyone paid off in some way. To me, it just seems so pointless now."

They were quiet the rest of the walk back to her estate, and Anders found himself looking at her constantly. The way the moonlight reflected on her hair and on the glimpses of white skin that were exposed from time to time. He felt an urge to tilt her face towards the sky and brush her hair back, so he could take in the mesmerising spectacle of the moonlight revealing the beauty of her face. He was filled with a desperate need to give her just a moment when she did not feel the need to hide. He wondered how much she still hid from him, and felt that he would never be able to rest until he knew every little detail about her. As if answering his prayer, she looked towards the moon as a smile formed on her lips. Her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. He could see her breath on the air, and the temptation to claim her lips was almost too much to bear. The memory of the kiss she never knew happened, festered in his mind, and he couldn't determine if she was a sickness or a cure. His torment ended as they entered the estate. Or so he thought until she walked up to her bedroom, making him follow. She walked towards her desk and looked over the journals while his eyes unconsciously went repeatedly to her bed, his thoughts becoming less gentlemanly with each passing second. A sigh escaped her lips as she picked up a letter, and Anders forced himself to stand still, his body betraying his calm demeanour in every way possible.

"How many noble parties are there? You would think they have better things to do," Mira smiled and thankfully, was not looking at him.

"Of course not. The people here never leave Hightown's fancy walls. They have no idea what's brewing below them," Anders said a little darkly.

Mira sighed. "You are probably right. Still, I cannot stay away forever. I have used my mother's death as an excuse for long enough. And Sebastian promised to go with me," she explained, her back still turned towards him.

"Sebastian?" Anders asked with surprise.

"He is the only noble I know and he was kind enough to suggest it. I would rather have asked someone else, but I have a feeling you would rather stay out of the spotlight," she replied, looking at him with a small smile and a faint blush that made him swallow.

"I would have suffered it had you asked," he smirked charmingly, and had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling as she turned her slightly flustered gaze from him.

"I also thought it would be too great a risk with the templars," she replied, obviously struggling to make her statement sound calm.

"There is that, of course... Things just keep getting worse. I had templars practically on my doorstep the other night," he sighed, rubbing his forehead.

This made Mira turn quickly and her expression was full of worry.

"Do they know about you? They are hunting you?" she asked with great concern, making Anders smile a little.

"Not me specifically. They were just checking the refugee camps, but it's not as if my clinic is a secret. It's only a matter of time," he sighed regretfully.

Mira looked thoughtful for a moment, then went into a drawer and picked up something before walking towards him. She took his hand and placed an old key in it. Anders was unsure what it was for and looked at her with a crooked smile.

"It's a key," she said unhelpfully, with a smirk.

"I can see that. Sweetheart, I'm not letting anyone lock me up. You included," he said with a charming smile.

"You are saying that as if it were a choice," she grinned.

"Leave it to you to turn that into a challenge," he laughed.

"It's for the estate's cellar door, next to your clinic. If the templars come, you can use it for a quick escape," she smiled and looked down to the floor, concealing herself yet again.

"Thank you... It still surprises me how much you risk for my sake. I will keep it close," he said softly and prayed that she would look up at him, for he dared not touch her.

"It is nothing. I owe you more than I can ever repay," she replied and turned away from him. She picked up the book and handed it to him as well.

"My father's journal. Thank you, Anders," she smiled softly, too shy to look at him.

He pushed her soft hair aside and kissed her cheek lightly.

"Goodnight Mira," he said softly and walked out the door, dreading that if he looked back, he would not be able to contain himself any longer. For her sake he should stay away, and flashes of Justice killing her, kept him from giving in to the desperate longing of his heart.

"Malcolm's diary, year 922 of the Dragon Age

Mari finally did it. She killed a man, her teacher no less. We are on the run again, and I fear that the templars are not far behind. Bethany has also started to show signs of magic and I fear for my family more than ever. Mari won't give me an explanation as to why she killed Barren, but she has grown distant to me. I can't understand how a thirteen year old girl can drain a man of blood, set him on fire and enjoy it. She should have been terrified, but instead she is revelling in it. She has stopped showing any emotion as of late. She only smiles that cold grin of hers or reacts with an anger that is terrifying to me. Sometimes she tells me that she hates me and it breaks my heart, because I actually believe her. How did I lose my little girl to this cold hearted shell whom I no longer recognize?"

Anders rubbed his face after reading the entry. Thirteen. That was Mari's age was when she took her first human life, seemingly in cold blood. What made a girl, who was just taking her first tentative step towards womanhood, take a man's life? What transformed a girl with a loving family and a desire to protect them, into a heartless killer? What astonished Anders most was that Malcolm's diary made it seem that it had suddenly happened one day without warning. There was no increasing violence on her part. It was like something had just snapped inside her. He leaned back in the chair and stretched, when he heard a knock on the door and it opened. In came Varric.

"Good evening, Varric. I wasn't expecting to see you today," Anders smiled, but it faded as he saw Varric's grim expression.

"Hey Blondie, I was wondering if I can get you to talk to Waffles?"

"What happened?" Anders said, worried, and stood up.

"Remember that boy, Keran? We sought out someone called Senestra the Snake, to whom his father owed a lot of money. Waffles wanted to deal with it peacefully, but no such luck. After, she started to blame herself for Keran's father borrowing money from someone like that. She has locked herself in the Estate and won't talk to anyone. I thought you might be able to talk to her. You seem to understand her," Varric suggested.

"Of course. Thank you, Varric," Anders replied and hurried out the door.

Anders used the key Hawke had given him to get inside the Estate and realised just how massive the cellars were. After getting lost a few times, he finally found his way. Opening the door to the upstairs, he was greeted by Mongrel growling fiercely.

"Easy boy, it's just me," Anders soothed, and the dog greeted him happily.

Mongrel then began whining and led him upstairs to Mira's bedroom. He opened the door and Mira looked at him briefly, but did not acknowledge his presence beyond that. Anders watched almost helplessly as Mira paced back and forth. Every word of comfort or reason he tried to offer, she brushed off as meaningless. Nothing helped. She was buried in self-anger, as guilt and remorse tore the essence of her being. Anders knew exactly this feeling, and knew that no comfort he could ever offer would be enough. Mira turned to a mirror and for long moments, just stared at it.

"How could you do it? You selfish, heartless bitch!" Mira cried at her reflection, and with a howl, she picked up a bottle of ink from her desk and threw it at the mirror.

The looking glass shattered, covered with ink. Between the fragments of mirror left in the frame, the ink lingered and looked like black blood slowly spilling from it. Mira began slapping herself as she roared in anger, and Anders feared she was losing herself to her desperation. He ran forward and held her arms to prevent her from continuing to hurt herself.

"Let. Me. Go!" she sneered.

"No! I can't stand by and watch you do this," he insisted, still holding her firmly as she struggled.

"I deserve this!" she growled, her eyes filled with hatred and absent of tears.

"No, you don't! You can't blame yourself for something that made you unable to control yourself," he said firmly.

"You are right. I should be blaming you!" she snarled.

Anders felt like he'd been punched by the injustice of her accusation, and his anger rose up.

"Me?!" he roared back.

"Yes, you! You knew the kind of monster I was, but you just stood back and let me do it. You could have killed me many times, but you didn't. And you have killed people for far less! You had the power to stop me, when I couldn't stop myself!" she accused, her hands starting to burn with that red-blue flame.

"You know why I couldn't!" he hissed, his feelings torn with both anger and remorse.

"Which is exactly my point! How can someone as good as you fall in love with such a monster! Damn it, Anders. You are a seeker of Justice, but you only apply it when you see fit! How could you love her and not..." she was unable to finish her sentence, as tears began filling her eyes.

She leaned her temple against his chest and began to weep uncontrollably. Her fire retreated and Anders pulled her into his arms, while resting his cheek on her head.

"Why are you comforting her? She humiliated us!" Justice boomed.

"She didn't mean it," Anders argued.

"She did," Justice grumbled.

"Tell me, are you more upset because she questioned us or because she was right?" Anders asked solemnly.

"I... do no longer know."

Mira's legs gave way and Anders fell with her to the floor. She still shed tears, but she had become silent. He could feel her erratic breathing on his neck and the desire to kiss her was overwhelming. His mind played scenario after scenario of how he would comfort her. How his embrace would be more intimate and how he would pepper her with kisses and words of adoration, until she believed that she was not the monster she had convinced herself to be.

"I need to make this right," she whispered.

"I know," he replied.

Anders awoke on the couch the next morning to the rumbling of his stomach, as his nose sensed the aromas of freshly made bread, eggs and bacon. Last night, Mira had insisted that he stay the night and had offered him the guestroom, but as they had spent half the night talking, he ended up sleeping on the couch in the study. He could sense Justice's warnings about him spending too much time with Mira, and encouraging him to distance himself. But no matter how badly he wanted to heed the spirit's warnings, he found that he could not. Despite her being as damaged as he was, he found himself feeling whole while in her presence. They needed each other to gather the remnants of their souls, and should they merge their torn beings, they might eventually become one whole. His heart urged him to give up his struggles and give in to her, but would she even want that? She had not refused him as of yet, but she hadn't been very encouraging, either. Her remarks could be seen as nothing but friendly banter, and whenever anyone seemed to come close to her, she would distance herself. Someone else would have believed her to be shy, but Anders knew it was because she feared harming those around her. He knew, because he did the same. He was drawn from his gloomy thoughts when Mira entered the door with a tray of breakfast, and a smile on her face. For once, she did not seem as tired. She placed the tray on the table and sat down in an armchair.

"Good morning," she said sweetly.

"Good morning... You might want to be careful with spoiling me so much. I might not want to leave," he smiled suggestively, and though she blushed, she didn't meet his gaze.

"One of Sandal's enchantments gone wrong, and you'll be running for the hills," she smiled and grabbed a piece of bread.

"Nothing could scare me away from you," he said softly, and placed his hand on hers.

For a moment, she froze and looked at their joined hands. He could feel her skin getting warmer and her pulse accelerating, but she then pulled back her hand, acting like nothing had happened.

"I'm going to the Gallows today," she said nonchalantly.

"Are you crazy? You should stay away from there," Anders warned.

"I have to go there if I am to talk to Cullen," she replied.

"All right, I'll bite. Why do you need to talk to Cullen?" he said with annoyance.

"I am going to use my influence to convince him to reinstate Keran," she said with determination.

"You should be careful. If they find out you are no longer supportive of the templars... what if your money and position aren't enough? What if the Knight-commander turns on you? The thought of anyone hurting you... everything I have done to control this – I don't care - I would drown us in blood to keep you safe," he replied pleadingly, taking both her hands in his.

"Anders... I'll be fine... Don't risk anything for me." She spoke quietly, unable to meet his gaze.

"I would risk anything for you. I never thought I would meet a mage like you. Never dared hope that you would change as much as you have. I'm sorry, but I can't be anyone but who I am. There will be more violence, I know that. If you tie yourself to me I will only hurt you, but I will never sit by and do nothing while you endanger yourself," he said a little desperately, and he could feel her trembling.

A tear fell from her eye as she looked at him, at once appearing both frightened and entranced.

"Nothing would hurt as much as losing you, so if you care, you will not go to the Gallows again," she said breathlessly, before getting up and quickly walking out the front door.

Anders took a deep breath as he ran his fingers through his hair. Didn't she realise it was for her that he did the things he did? And what would she say if she ever found out about him and the mage underground? Not to mention just how often he entered the Gallows. He should not give in to her. It would only end in misery.

Author's note: Special thanks to Lady Evania and Eva Galana for helping me with the information for this chapter. Your help was invaluable.

Also thanks for all the reviews! You guys are amazing! As a matter of curiosity, one of my readers asked me who would win in a fight Mira and Mari, who do you think?

And thank you to Flint and Feather for being such a great support.