Chapter 3 – Fury

It hadn't taken them long to pack their things. They had known their stay in that cave was only temporary and only the bare essentials had been unpacked. The clan was well-practiced at this now, a learnt art that they had all but perfected.

Lyla stood at the side of the cave, leaning against the wall and grimacing as pain shot through her body. Wynne's magic was strong, there was no denying that but there was some things she couldn't quite fix, and this pain was a reminder of it.

Her body had been as close to broken as she had ever experienced, a stupid mistake that a da'len would have made had nearly cost her, her life, and Lyla knew she had to be better.

She was no longer a child, she was the closest thing to a keeper this little clan had. She was their keeper and she couldn't take such stupid, idiotic risks any more. She had to learn, she had to.

As always, she was too hard on herself, deep down she knew this, but Lyla was a fighter and tough love was the only way she could make herself learn.

"My love," Leliana whispered from her side, "can we talk?" Lyla was glad for the distraction, and infinitely gladder that distraction was her Leliana.

Nothing was more precious to her than her bard. "Ma vhenan, you know I will always have time for you," she crooned. Flirting was still awkward for her, not like the gorgeous flows of desire that Leliana effortlessly displayed. Lyla was jealous of how easy it was for Leliana to display her love, and was glad that the human didn't care.

"I'm glad, my dearest one," Leliana smiled as she leaned in for a small kiss. Lyla let the bard take her by the hand and lead her away from the group.

"What is it you want to talk about, vhenan?" Lyla inquired as they found privacy.

Leliana turned back to look at her lover and Lyla had to suppress the gasp that fell to her lips. Leliana had never looked more serious, and more forlorn. Throughout all of their time fighting Marjolaine, and the horror that bitch had brought upon them, Leliana had never looked so scared.

"What has happened?" Lyla growled. She cursed herself as the noise left her throat, cursed how her first reaction was always anger, not love or comfort. She was a berserker that was what Leliana had called her all those months ago when they first met and it fit her perfectly. A rage filled warrior that knew no different. A crippled one too, with her eye missing. Shooting was almost impossible now, she knew it. She shook her head subtly, dispelling the hate from her mind as she looked into Leliana's impossibly blue eyes.

"The Maker has shown me things I never wanted to see," Leliana began, and Lyla had to stop herself from sighing. They agreed on much but religion was still their sore spot. They had two different views on the Chantry. "In those caves he showed me the future, and I cannot let that happen, Lyla. I would not let him take you from me!" She screamed, then her eyes widened in fear. "I will not lose you, and this injury is just the first, I know it."

"What are you talking about, Leliana?" Lyla directed them to sit on the floor as the spoke. She took Leliana in her arms and stroked her hair as Leliana looked up at her.

"Alistair and I had visions in the cave. Part of our trials to get the ashes, I suppose. But, where he saw hope and a new future for Ferelden, I only got warnings and fear. They told me I would survive but would not tell me of your fate, vhenan," Leliana sobbed. Tears fell freely as Lyla brushed them away, cooing comfort as best she could, but Leliana was not listening. "I know how to save you, I am sure of it. You've lost your eye, my love, how can you hope to fight the Archdemon if you cannot see?"

Lyla ignored the prickles of anger she felt. Leliana was not criticising her, she was not. And if she was that was ok. Wasn't it? Lyla was too proud, a fault all the Dalish shared no doubt, but it was a flaw she recognised. Any and all analysis of her was met with anger and defiance.

Leliana lifted herself away from Lyla's arms and reached into her coat pocket, producing a small pouch. "These are The Sacred Ashes, my love. The cure for any and all ailments. Said to cure the crippled, save the dying, and fix the unfixable. Andraste will save you, Lyla, she can bring your eye back and you can beat the Archdemon. Trust me, trust Andraste, please," Leliana begged as she held the pouch closer.

Lyla flinched away.

"Andraste?" Lyla barked. Her righteous rage was welcome now. It was easier to be angry than it was to understand her feelings, anger was her oldest friend, her kindest ally, her strongest weapon. "ANDRASTE?" She roared. "You say you love me, but you would subject me to her?"

"I am saving your life, Lyla," Leliana snapped back. "Andraste will fix the injury your stupid actions made."

"Stupid?" Lyla deflated, momentarily at least. Her rage expanded once more, breathing life into her faster than she could have ever hoped. "I saved us! I am this clan's keeper, shemlen, I would have thought you realised that by now. I am Dalish, Leliana, never shall we submit!

"Andraste thought to save my people once before, she saved us from the shemlen who enslaved us. But she was betrayed and whatever good intentions she may have had, your alas'lin Chantry destroyed. I will never trust them again. My people have paid enough for human religion," Lyla screamed. She knew now that the rest of the clan could hear them but she didn't care. Let them hear, they would find out eventually regardless.

"You arrogant fool," Leliana hissed, "I love you, but you are so impossibly proud that you cannot even accept my help?" Leliana marched towards Lyla, towering over the elf as she poked her chest. "I stole the ashes for you!"

"I never asked for that, vhenan," Lyla whispered, suddenly feeling pathetic.

"You never had to!" Leliana roared. She closed her eyes for a moment that lasted a long breath. "The Ashes are yours, Lyla Mahariel, I suggest you use them." Leliana threw the pouch on the ground and stomped off.

"I love you," Lyla muttered after her ghosts. Shame and disgust at herself fuelled only her anger and as she reached down to grab the Ashes, she felt her wrath explode.

"I know you are all listening," She screamed as she addressed the clan. "The camp better be packed and ready to go, we are fucking leaving."

She growled as she looked towards the nearest wall and unleased an impossibly stupid punch into it. Revelling in her anger and the pain she ignored how hard it was to walk without the left side of her vision, standing tall as she stormed towards the cave entrance.

"Ma halam, Lyla, ne len'alas lath'din," she cried under her breath. "Happiness was good whilst it lasted, but now you have a job to do."

Translations

Ma halam, Lyla, ne len'alas lath'din – You are finished, Lyla, you dirty elf that no one could love.