Lyna had never felt so much like crying before. The image of Tamlen's darkspawn tainted corpse was etched in her mind. She wanted to go back to her clan. She wanted Merill, sweet and innocent, to tell her he was in a better place now. For the Keeper to tell her she'd done the right thing. For Fenerel to tell her that he'd died honourably. But most of all… she wanted Tamlen to ruffle her hair in that way that annoyed the hell out of her, because it made her hair fall out of the carefully done pigtail, call her a 'drama queen' in that greater than tho tone that made her want to punch his lights out and then say, in that way that reminded her why he was her best friend, that she was making a big deal of nothing, that it was fine.
Her knees drawn to her chest she wrapped her arms around her legs tighter, trying to block out reality. Tamlen's last words echoing in her head, 'I've always loved you lethalan'. A blood socked dagger lay at her side. It had been the first present that Tamlen had ever given her. Ironic that it would be the very thing that ended his life. She had thought that Tamlen had died when the mirror released its power. She had thought that she had failed the clan when she failed to find him, now she truly had. The clan and Tamlen, both.
She had run from the camp. The others wouldn't understand. She didn't want their false sympathy. Even Alister wouldn't understand. He'd lost Duncan. But he hadn't been the one to hear his friend begging him to end his life, to hold the blade, to sink it into his heart, to watch the lights in his eyes dim until they were gone, to have the blood stain his hands. Lyna didn't want to hear their comfort, they were her friends, but they weren't Dylish. They didn't understand their customs and beliefs, they didn't know what the Dylish went through. Creators, they didn't even know who Tamlen was. Alistair knew of cause, but only because Duncan had told him about what had happened to her, while they were at Ostagar.
She ignored the sound of footsteps coming toward her. She figured it was Alister, come to drag her back to the camp. That was until she felt the soft kiss to her temple. Alister would never do that, he was far too chivalrous to kiss a girl without her expressed consent. Zevran, on the other hand, had no such qualms. She wished he'd go away. He was the only one she'd considered being with after Tamlen. (Not that she'd ever been with Tamlen to begin with.) The last thing she wanted was him seeing her so weak. She tried to run. Zevran's hand grabbed her wrist before she could escape.
"Let go of me!" She snapped, eye's still closed so as she didn't have to see the pity in his face. Head down so he didn't see the pitiful look on hers.
Zevran didn't let her go. Instead he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. Being in that warm embrace made her eyes well up with tears. She needed to get away, now. She refused to let him see her cry. She struggled to get out of Zevran's grip, but she couldn't muster the strength to put up a real fight. Zevran held her closer.
"Shh." He shushed gently. "It's only natural to cry when you lose someone. Especially when you're the one that held the blade." Lyna stiffened. "I know how it feels. Don't lock it up. Let it go. I'm not going anywhere."
A sob raked at the back of Lyna's throat. She didn't have the strength to even try to fight now. She just clung to Zevran as she cried into his chest. They both knew that this wasn't over. There was still two hearts to heal. And it wasn't going to happen in one night. But so long as they went together they could overcome this pain. A pain only they knew.