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She flinched.
Despite the fact that she’d been hit by enemies anywhere from twice to a hundred times her size, despite the fact that she’d been through every kind of hurt imaginable, despite the fact that she was scared out of her mind of everything she was up against, all the unknowns and unpredictables she had faced, Fina never flinched.
Except when Kalah was involved. Especially when wine was involved. It was a familiar pattern, her mother would drink herself blind, something would set her off, and one way or another Fina or Rica would have to duck under an empty bottle.
When they had returned to Orzammar , Fina had been nearly frantic to find her sister. She had been thrilled to see Rica again-in the Royal Palace, no less-after so many months apart, and cooed over her new nephew who had the Aeducan blue eyes and wisps of brilliant red hair. She almost hadn’t noticed her mother until she started on one of her tirades, a bottle of some expensive surfacer wine gripped tight in one hand. Something about abandoning the family, how they were doomed to be kicked back out on the street as soon as something happened to the boy. Her blood boiled at the way the woman talked about her grandson , and apparently Kalah had caught the look on her face, or maybe she hadn’t actually meant to gesture so widely, but the hand holding the bottle swung out, barely missing Fina’s head–
And she flinched.
She had immediately regretted bringing a party with her. Fina had said a short goodbye to her sister and made her way out of the palace as quickly as she could without making a scene. She wasn’t sure if she was shaking. She felt like she was. Sten was as stone faced as ever. Wynne looked over her sympathetically and she almost ran right then and there. Heat and shame rose in her cheeks and twisted her gut into knots. Fina kept her breathing in check as best she could and took point, hoping the old woman would take the hint. Angry tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she picked up the pace.
Zevran matched her stride with more difficulty than expected, given his longer legs usually gave him the advantage. An odd look lingered on his face; concern, yes, but underneath it was anger. At her mother? Himself for not saying something? At Fina for allowing it to happen? He opened his mouth to speak and Fina reached up to catch the back of his neck. She pulled him down into a rough kiss, equal parts outlet for her frustration and message to him not to push. When she broke away, he still looked troubled.
“Not now. When we have the sun overhead. I missed my fam–” she paused to give a sharp, bitter chuckle, and started again, “I missed my sister enough to make me forget how much I hate this place is all.” He hesitated a moment and then nodded, lightly trailing a hand along her jaw, then giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Of course. Back to our task, then.”