If living in Kirkwall was like living in the First Circle of Hell, then traveling across Thedas was... several rungs deeper into Dante's Inferno.

Everything that made it hard living in this society was made all the worse when you were on the road. Already iffy food became the kind of things that medieval cooks could preserve for travel. Everyone's hygiene went from bad to worse without easy access to water. Sleeping? Unsupported bedrolls on even harder ground.

Don't even get me started on answering the call of nature in nature. With nearly a hundred other people all around you.

And all of that bitching was for exclusively for the trip from Kirkwall to Bartrand's entrance to the Deep Roads.

Bartrand's information was, strangely, perfectly accurate there. This was despite the fact that I was pretty sure it had been Anders who'd given them the Gray Warden maps in game, and who certainly had done no such thing this time around. Either way, we found a narrow crack near the base of a mountain about three weeks east-north-east of the city. A few lyrium explosives later, and we had our entrance.

Forty people stayed behind with the mules and horses, with orders to hunt and gather enough food while protecting the entrance, leaving the rest of us with a handful of brontos as we descended.

After that... well, things slowly got worse.

Oh, the first few days were all right. Not that we could really tell how many days we'd been moving thanks to our lack of clocks and sunlight. We had one hourglass, but we only used that to keep track of how long we slept.

Aside from that, the tunnels weren't comfortable, but we didn't run into any Darkspawn. Just a handful of Deepstalkers that scattered at our noise and numbers rather than approach. Which left us trudging through barely lit tunnels until Varric forced Bartrand to call a halt so that we could rest.

Getting our sleeping rolls set, we'd decided on teams of two to stand on watch. One probably would have been fine, but quite honestly none of us trusted the hired help that Bartrand had secured for this trip. His own 'bodyguards' in particular screamed Carta to the point where even Merrill had noticed.

One quick drawing of lots later, and everyone but Anders and I were asleep while we took the first shift. Varric had hardly begun snoring before the other mage had dragged me into exactly the kind of debate I didn't want to get involved in. Especially with him.

"I would have thought your Sister would have talked to you more about this." Anders shook his head, looking utterly baffled at my lack of education. "It's perfectly clear how demons break down between the various types of sins."

I sighed, letting my head fall back against the boulder I was leaning against. "Sins according to one specific religion, Anders. Spirits have existed long before the Chantry, or the worship of the Maker. I seriously doubt that Arlathan or ancient Tevinter shared your idea of what a sin is, and you've already admitted that they're the ones that named most types of spirits."

He frowned, "Yes, but the Maker precedes all of them. That is why we call him that."

Way to miss my point. "I wouldn't think you'd have enough faith to think that He guided unbelievers into naming his spirits what He wanted to, considering the chant's opinion of magic."

That frown grew deeper. "I may not like the Chantry, but I have plenty of faith in Andraste's path. All oppressed people should."

"I like some of it." I shrugged. "The rest? Not so much. But back to Spirits, you can't tell me that something like Desire is inherently a Sin. Maybe Lust is, by your definition of it, but desiring more than you have is one of the things that separates people from animals. Or, you know, normal people from Tranquil."

He grimaced. "That's an argument that's been put forward by a few scholars to explain why Desire Demons are so common. And more Human than most of the others, save for Pride."

"I'm guessing those scholars weren't received well?" I guessed.

"Not at all." Anders admitted. "Kinloch Hold only had one copy of one of their earlier works, and it was restricted despite technically falling in line with doctrine. I think the rest are still banned outside of Tevinter. If I remember right, the author only barely managed to flee there ahead of the Templars hunting him."

I sighed. "Templars are always burning books that might actually be interesting to read."

"On that we fully agree." He grinned, both of us chuckling quietly before he went on. "Still. Your people truly don't tell Spirits and Demons apart as we do?"

"We consider all spirits equally dangerous." I was pretty sure Merrill had told him that in the game, and that he'd blown her off. "Some can still be helpful, but even the kindest spirit isn't like a person."

That frown returned. "What do you mean?"

I thought about it for a moment, then went with the obvious example. "All right. To you, Justice would be a spirit, not a demon, right?"

"Yes." He allowed, not otherwise reacting to the name. More proof he hadn't actually met Justice in Ferelden. "Justice is a noble concept."

"Is it?" A hand rose, pointing at my very pointed ears. "By the letter of the law, these say that I don't get to speak in my own defense if I'm accused of a crime in Kirkwall. I could simply walk by a noble, he could accuse me of stealing his coin-purse, and by the laws of the city, I'd be strung up and hanged within the day. As far as the law is concerned, that would be justice."

Anders grimaced. "I see your point. A Spirit of Justice could demand your death in that circumstance, even if a mortal could recognize that such a thing would be blatantly unjust. But a true spirit of that type should be able to see beyond that. To see what true Justice in the Maker's eyes would be."

My hand waved away, "Maybe, but how much would Justice care about extenuating circumstances? Would it let a thief live, simply because the thief was a starving child? Or would it cut their hands off regardless? Justice is Justice, and nothing else. There's no Compassion to temper it. No Mercy to show kindness to those who just made a small mistake."

"...I see your point, again." His own head fell back as well, arms crossing his chest. "Perhaps if taken all together, those Spirits could be beneficial as a group, but if encountered alone, your people believe they could be as dangerous as any Demon."

My people, mostly, didn't believe spirits existed at all. This was entirely my personal opinion based on what I'd known before I came here. "More or less."

"It's an interesting argument. I'm not entirely sure that I agree, but it's certainly something that I'll have to think more about. Do you simply consider Demons to be Spirits with fewer redeeming qualities then?"

I thought about it for a moment, then nodded slightly. "Mostly, yeah. It's kind of tricky because spirits change based on the viewer's perspective, but generally speaking I'd say that's a true statement. Hard to see anything good coming from a Spirit of Envy."

He shuddered, "No, certainly not. Or Sloth."

Like the Sloth demon that had taken hold of most of the Ferelden Circle. I shuddered as well, very glad to not have been around to see that kind of thing. "Agreed. I can't imagine sitting down for tea in the Fade with one of those."

That made him snort, "Is that what you do when you dream? Have tea with Pride demons?"

"I haven't seen one of those yet, thank God." I shook my head. "I see plenty of others, circling outside of the Dream-catcher. Trying to break through, or get my attention."

"What kinds?"

I took a slow breath, letting it out. "That's a bit personal, Anders. We're not that close yet."

Anders immediately held a hand up, "You're right, my apologies."

"It's fine. Some other time. Maybe ask again when we're both drunk, so I can ask you about the ones who whisper to you."

"...I think we'd both have to be beyond merely drunk." He closed his eyes for a moment, clearly remembering a few less than pleasant experiences. "It... has been very nice, traveling with your Dream-catcher. Not having to cast a single ward but being able to sleep without fear of demons entering my dreams. I haven't heard a whisper in my waking moments either."

I did my best not to fidget, or look away. To do anything that would reveal that there was one demon that could casually stroll through my defenses, could slide into his dream without effort thanks to his lack of wards.

Longing seemed to have been leaving Merrill alone so far. Probably because Merrill had already been marked by another old spirit. Having both Merrill and Anders with though? I was more than a little worried that she'd get up to her usual games sooner or later.

"Another time." I murmured, "Well. How about a less depressing subject? You have other questions for me?"

His grin was shameless. "Only a few hundred, and your talk of spirits diverted me from my first. What do you think of the Circles?"

"Good idea. Fucking terrible execution." I replied at once.

The grin faded as quickly as Petrice's had, when I'd listed off the good things the Qun had done for its people. "You think locking people like us away is a good idea?"

"No. I think having a safe, secure space to train people in magic is a good idea. The Chant may be wrong about a lot of things, but the dangers of people new to magic aren't one of them." I sighed. "Merrill and I barely get any training in because we have to go so far outside of the city to be safe. By the time we get there it's almost time to turn around and get back before sunset."

"Just having a space to practice spells isn't worth what we suffer from."

I waved a hand, "Entirely agreed. People shouldn't be locked up there for their entire lives."

"Then what should they be?" He pressed.

I shrugged again. "Schools, mostly. Take in kids that have magic, have them live there until they pass a test to prove they've got it under control. Not Harrowings, those are stupid as hell. Something more practical. Once they pass, give them the choice to stay at the Circle, or go live where they want like any other normal person."

Anders huffed quietly. "That is what the Tevinter Circles once were, before the rise of the Chantry. What Tevinter still claims them to be."

"Tevinter may be a cesspit, but that doesn't mean they're wrong about what Circles should be."

"...maybe not." He allowed, "Do your people allow parents to visit their children?"

And he was back to thinking I was describing my homeland, instead of just my personal opinions. Not that I could correct him. That would blow up my entire story about my past, and bring up a thousand more questions that I wouldn't have good answers to.

"Of course." I said, hating the way my conscience writhed inside me. "Some don't. Bigotry against magic isn't just a Thedas thing, but they're encouraged to visit all the same."

Anders, being Anders, asked me a few dozen more questions about what the Circles 'back home' were like. I did my best to avoid details, but he kept pressing me on various points until I had to give him something. It was only halfway through that I realized I was giving him a sanitized description of Hogwarts, since that was apparently the first example of a magical school that had popped into my head.

So now he thought Circles in America were British boarding schools, complete with a House system; though I changed the names to various animals that I liked instead of the frankly ridiculous ones from the books. He immediately compared that to his Fraternities, which at least gave me a chance to divert him for a little while by describing them to me. It wasn't entirely an excuse; I only vaguely remembered any of that, but it didn't take long for him to go back to quizzing me.

It'd have been funny if I wasn't so wrung out from having to constantly having to make sure I kept the magic systems straight in my head. Fortunately our time to sleep came around before I could really slip up at all, and Anders looked to be positively cheerful when we woke up Isabella and Fenris to take their turn.

I couldn't say the same when my head struck my thin pillow, sleep rising over me within moments.

My mood only got worse when I felt the world shift, and realized that my head was resting in someone's lap instead of a collection of straw.

"You." Longing growled from directly above me, "Have been absent for far too long."

"...hey Longing." I didn't open my eyes. "How's tricks?"

A claw pressed down on the tip of my nose. "Not proceeding nearly as flawlessly as I would prefer. How fortunate that I have two other mortals I may tempt to make up for that."

My lips twisted, eyes snapping open. "Bitch."

Longing glared down at me, her purple skin darker than usual. It complimented the back-silk patch covering her right eye, and...

"...why are you wearing Isabella's outfit?"

"Because you desire her," She stated, adding, "And you think it looks good on me. Obviously."

Shaking my head, I pushed myself up with a quiet groan. She didn't try to hold me down, instead simply watching as I stood up and took stock of our environment. Oddly enough we weren't in a tunnel like I'd expected. Instead we were on the floor of some kind of canyon, surrounded by dark gray stone.

It stretched on infinitely in both directions, and I couldn't see any other spirits.

"Few of our kind touch reality near those tunnels." Longing answered my unspoken question. "There is rarely anything for them to latch onto. Just the fading memories of Stone, and the rank brushes of corruption."

"Dwarves and Darkspawn aren't good eating?"

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Manifestly not. Go too near the Darkspawn and you may find Terror feasting on those they bring down into their tunnels, or Hungers that caress the Wraiths of Stone. Both are fools, and desperate ones at that. The Corrupt are not helpless against us, and enjoy binding and destroying us as they do all things."

Rolling my shoulders out, I stretched my arms to ease muscles that didn't really exist. "So you're not going to stick with us the entire way?"

"It shall depend on the strength of your desire." She replied, single eye glancing to her left. "Or theirs."

Following her gaze made drew out a groan; two bits of green fog had accumulated nearby. Both were small, apparently drifting aimlessly. Regular, casual dreams then. Hopefully.

I turned back to find Longing's too-long tongue running over her lips.

"...Longing. No."

"Oh? Do you desire for me not to speak with them?"

My jaw clenched, making my words come out tight. "You fucking know I don't want you to. My life will get extremely complicated if they know you're in here."

She rose without a word, lips curled in a smirk. Her tail slowly began wagging behind her, flicking left to right as that hungry expression found a new target. "What are you offering, Maeve?"

"...guessing that my friendship won't cut it this time? Or a short make out session?"

"That was an entirely different circumstance. Our tether is weak but firmly secured, I will need something more substantial." She turned as she spoke casually strolling toward the nearest of the dreams. I immediately moved to intercept, getting between her and whichever of the two it was.

"I don't want you poking into either of their dreams." I said, putting a hand up to hold her back by force if I had to. Not that I'd win that fight, but it was the principle of the thing. "You are going to go sit your purple ass back down, and we're going to talk about this like civilized beings."

Clawed hands fell to her hips, drawing my attention to the fact that Isabella's outfit left a lot of her skin visible down there. "I shall remain standing. Make your offer."

Dammit.

My teeth ground on one another as I glared at her, trying to think of something to get her to back off without giving her even more of a channel to my soul. The elder Spirit of Desire huffed in response, rolling her eye before casually beginning to walk a circle around me. I had to move along with her to stay between her and the dream behind me.

"Your anger is misplaced." Longing shook her head, as if baffled why I could possibly be upset with her. "I have behaved exactly per the terms of our deal. I have kept you protected, sheltered, safe. I gave you comfort and warmth for a pittance of a cost. Even those dreams which I influence have become a welcome balm to your soul."

"Only because I've gotten used to them." I countered. "I'd still rather not dream of home at all. It's still painful."

Her tail thrashed harder for a moment, "Yet, deep in your soul, you still desire my dreams. You long for home, fear that you are forgetting what life in America was like. You cling to those memories I send, no matter how painful, because the alternative is worse."

"...I..."

"I know your true desires." She countered. "Even if you will not admit them to yourself. Every night you desire dreams of home, and every morning you are filled with wistful longing for what you have lost."

I swallowed against my dry throat, "...you've been feeding on me more heavily that I thought."

"Yes."

"And that's not enough for you to leave them alone?"

"I have left the Dalish alone." A shoulder rose and fell, "Well, except for one time. She was a very courteous little thing, and very polite when she told me that she was not interested in making any deals. We spoke of Griffons over Elfroot tea before she woke."

I just... stared at her. "...seriously?"

Longing huffed. "I am too old a being to waste time with deception when the truth is more effective."

Even in her dreams Merrill was... Merrill, I supposed. I was less sure what to make of the fact that she'd never told me that she and Longing had shared a dream. And tea, apparently. "All right, I guess. So that means I'm not really negotiating for you to leave them both alone. Just Anders."

"You believe that the girl could truly resist me if I made an effort? Her Desires drive her just as much as Pride. The next time we speak I could tell her tales of how her ancestors used the Eluvians. That would surely pique her interest."

Anger shot through me, made me bite off each word. "Try it and I will use Blood Wards on the Dream-catcher."

Longing's movements became stilted for a moment, as if she'd forgotten I had that threat available to me. "...your other companions would demand answers if you did, and you have admitted that I am the only one you can express yourself to. A bluff."

I laughed in her face, "You think I wouldn't do it to protect Merrill? I lived here for most of a year without using you as my discount psychologist, I'm pretty sure that I'll live if I lose your services again. And everyone's going to realize Merrill's a blood mage sooner or later. This would just move up that confrontation a bit. Besides, I don't see a Terror or a Fearling outside right now, so this would be a perfect chance to reset my dream-catcher to keep you out."

"...and you are certainly petty enough to do it for sheer spite." Her impressive chest heaved in a sigh. "I will concede the point for a twenty second kiss to maintain our tether."

"Permanently?" I demanded.

"For so long as our arrangement holds, I shall not enter the Dalish's dreams without her or your consent." She confirmed.

I didn't have to think about that one very hard. I knew she'd use the kiss to rile me up as much as she could, but if it kept her out of Merrill's dreams, then I would deal with it. "Fine. Deal."

She nodded once, but didn't immediately pull me to her for her payment. Instead she flicked her attention back to the dream behind me. "That leaves the other one."

...right. Anders. Dammit.

I glanced behind me as well, and felt my heart nearly explode as I lurched forward to avoid getting dragged into the expanding fog of his dream. Several stumbling steps got me over to Longing, the demon snorting in amusement at my lack of grace.

"Shut up." I muttered, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Nightmare?"

"The beginnings of one." A moue appeared on her face. "Decidedly unpleasant. Filled with fear and anger... rising anger. He'll draw a few of those fools nearby soon enough, even here."

Probably dreaming of Templars, maybe brought on by our conversations about magic. And how things were better in 'my lands'.

Longing's nose wrinkled further. "Not guilt, Maeve. I cannot stand the taste of guilt."

"Can't help it." I said. "They're supposed to be my friends, and I keep lying to their faces. Anders, Merill, Varric... even Petrice. There'd be something wrong with me if I didn't feel guilt. Besides, you should enjoy it. If I didn't feel guilty about lying to him, I wouldn't be trying so hard to protect him from you."

That didn't make her look happier. "Mortals. Between your guilt and his anger, I am losing any interest in dragging this out. What is your offer regarding the other mage?"

How much was Anders not knowing that I'd made a deal with her worth? True, he'd made a deal with a spirit himself in canon. Gone so far as to invite Justice to turn him into a full-on abomination even... but he'd also been a titanic hypocrite about it to Merrill. I doubted he'd treat me any better, or be able to keep his mouth shut around the others.

I... didn't know how Isabella or Varric would take it. They'd both adored Merrill in game, so I had a chance of keeping things all right there. I hoped. Fenris would take it badly, and our relationship was rocky enough as it was.

The real problem was timing. This was really, really, really not the time for them to learn this about me.

"...tens hours of memories." I said, extremely reluctantly. Knowing full well that this was going be far more expensive than that once the haggling was said and done. Knowing also that my memories were the only thing I really had to bargain with, and that they were a finite resource. Eventually she'd see everything if I kept this up.

And then who knew what she might start demanding. I'd made a massive mistake giving her years last time. Hours would do this time. I hoped.

"You can look at ten hours of memories, then give them back." I told her. "In exchange, you won't speak to Anders, go into his dreams, or otherwise reveal that we've made a contract. He is never to see you, hear you, or otherwise know you're around. Ten months of forbearance."

"Forty hours, and I'll give you a year." She countered at once.

It was a fight not to slump in relief. I'd been afraid she'd demand months at the very least. "Twenty hours."

"Twenty hours..." A clawed hand rose, tracing over her chest. "...and we entertain each other tonight."

That damned blush came back. Dammit, maybe I needed to get over my hangups about casual sex, if even the smallest bit of teasing from her made my eyes want to start wandering. This was definitely the longest I'd been without since I'd turned eighteen, and apparently it was getting to me.

"I'm not having sex with you. Ever."

Longing's form rippled, melting into Isabella's... complete with that wicked smirk. When she spoke it was in a perfect imitation of her sensual purr. "Never?"

"No!" I choked. "Especially not like that!"

Longing-Isabella pouted, then abruptly she seemed to melt and reform into Petrice, one hand tugging at the neckline of her robes. "Perhaps you'd rather learn what is hidden beneath these?"

"No. Just... dammit Longing, no." I forced myself to take a calming breath, pushing on with my final offer. "Thirty hours, but they have to be from before I was fourteen years old."

A shimmer of magic later and Longing's true appearance was frowning at me. "I will not accept that condition."

"You will if I lower the time you have to leave Anders alone all the way down to three months." I gambled. We'd be back in Kirkwall by then, and he'd have his own wards or his own Dream-catcher to keep her out. "Deal or no deal?"

Longing growled at me. "I will not limit it in that fashion. Not when you are clearly using it to conceal what I actually desire to know."

"Going once." I said, ignoring her protest, just as she so often ignored mine.

"Maeve..."

"Going twice." I held up two fingers, twitching a third, "Last chance or I'll just deal with the consequences... and fine, I guess you don't-"

"Deal." She threw her hands up, "Deal, you aggravating mortal! Now get over here before I change my mind."

Well... yay and fuck. Two dreams in a row and I'd stumbled into making a deal with her. This was definitely becoming a trend that didn't bode well for me. True, both times were under circumstances that weren't entirely under my control, but that didn't change the fact that I'd let her wedge her foot a bit farther into the door. If this continued it wasn't going to end well for me, no matter how careful I was in our little deals. How limited I made things, how desperately I kept her away from the games I'd first played when I was fifteen.

"Come. Here."

My feet skidded across the stone at her demand, my short frame slotting neatly in against her far taller body. A single finger tipped my chin back, leaving my mouth available when she leaned down to press hers against it.

This kiss wasn't as arousing as the last one we'd shared. It couldn't be when she was pulling my memories out at the same time, my stupid senses making that process feel like a rope burn slowly trailing up my spin to the base of my neck. I couldn't actually tell which memories she took... not until she gave them back, at least.

Then I got treated to an absolute blur of events racing past my eyes. Like someone had put the recording of my life on extreme fast forward. I could pick out enough snippets to tell exactly what she'd gone after; books turned over in my hands, pages rustling, the tiny television in my room glowing in the night, and the first few video games I'd fumbled around playing.

...and I realized my timing was off when Longing stiffened, claws digging into my shoulders painfully rather than playfully.

The blur of memory snapped to a paused halt, the plastic of the old keyboard beneath my fingers. One of those mammoth old monitors sitting on the family desk at home... while trailer for Dragon Age: Origins played.

We watched the old video with its outdated graphics. God the Darkspawn looked bad, they'd put all of the money into Morrigan. And the dragon, at the end. We watched the little battle, watched until the title dropped with its bloody splashes.

Longing let me go, single eye narrowed to a violet slit. The tether between us hummed, vibrating once as our new deal re-anchored it back into place. It didn't feel any more powerful than it had been before, but I was entirely too aware of the tug of it.

"...how is that possible?" She murmured.

I had no idea, but I wasn't about to tell her anything else. I licked my lips, finding my voice. "Our bargain is struck."

Far from being angry, that quiet, girlish chuckle escaped her. "And you are back to teasing me with my own desires. Clever girl."

I sighed. "I hate it when you quote movies at me."

She seemed ready to quote another when her head suddenly snapped around. It was startling enough that I did the same on reflex, to see what had set her off. Anders' dream had settled down, condensing into something a little smaller than a person. I was ready to ask what she'd felt when I realized the dream was motionless.

...and two eyes were staring out of it.

"Anders?"

At my voice they winked out, and the greenish mist faded into nothing.

My heart plummeted into my stomach. "...uh... he saw us, didn't he?"

"Yes." Longing's growl was as petulant as it was furious. "Our deal is broken. I was too distracted by that memory to notice he had made a window to peer through, and you stipulated I was not to allow him to see me."

"That's nice." I said absently, not caring nearly as much as I should have about what that might mean. "Uh. He saw us."

"Yes."

"...fuck."