[ Feels like we're all made of wires held too tight. It's apt and he's ashamed on some level that he can't calm down, can't adopt Amelia's useful businesslike demeanor. He can't quite do that, but he can put it away at least. He can heal what he can with magic, heal what he can with words and care, and handle the rest later, all without making Chris feel he has to manage him. He can do that, he thinks.
He wishes he hadn't completely missed the whiskey though, that would have been a small help.
Finally rising from kneeling on the floor of the kitchen, Hawke wipes at his face with one hand now that Chris is turned away for the moment. He knows he can't hide it from Amelia and doesn't quite try. It's nothing dire. Weariness from worry and too many emotions coursing through him for too long. He's not going to fall apart. He can't fall apart, not until this is done.
A glance spared for Amelia, Hawke steps in for just a moment to give her a brief brush of lips at the temple in silent thanks and acknowledgement that this is difficult for all involved. Most so for Chris but smaller pain is still pain enough. He can't help thinking he'd rather this have happened to him, but Maker knows he won't say that aloud to be shouted down by them both. A stupid thought, probably, but it doesn't stop him thinking it. ]
You being here is a boon on its own, Love.
[ Squeezing her shoulder gently, Hawke takes one of the viscous potion bottles and moves to the couch, folding his legs under him and downing the concoction with a grimace. Silvervine is no real replacement for lyrium and tastes even worse, but it's something. ]
Try and relax, this is going to take some time but I'll have you feeling better as soon as I can.
[ His tone is soft, intentionally so. He's making as much of an effort as he can muster to tamp down on his anger, to keep what's useful and set aside the rest until the time comes. What's useful is positivity and care and he'll give both as determinedly as he can.
Hands hover over Chris' thighs and backside, the green glow returning as he calls forth his magic to sooth and to heal. Bruises and welts are easier, soothing stinging flesh much simpler than knitting what he can't see, and where the magic had an undercurrent of frigidity before Hawke makes sure its warm as a balm now. He keeps an eye on what he can see of Chris' face, judging his reaction and adjusting the spell as he can to Chris' comfort. If he manages to catch his eye, Hawke's quick with a gentle, reassuring smile.
This feels better, being a help like this instead of distracted by his own anger and anguish. He'll maintain it as long as he can. ]
no subject
He wishes he hadn't completely missed the whiskey though, that would have been a small help.
Finally rising from kneeling on the floor of the kitchen, Hawke wipes at his face with one hand now that Chris is turned away for the moment. He knows he can't hide it from Amelia and doesn't quite try. It's nothing dire. Weariness from worry and too many emotions coursing through him for too long. He's not going to fall apart. He can't fall apart, not until this is done.
A glance spared for Amelia, Hawke steps in for just a moment to give her a brief brush of lips at the temple in silent thanks and acknowledgement that this is difficult for all involved. Most so for Chris but smaller pain is still pain enough. He can't help thinking he'd rather this have happened to him, but Maker knows he won't say that aloud to be shouted down by them both. A stupid thought, probably, but it doesn't stop him thinking it. ]
You being here is a boon on its own, Love.
[ Squeezing her shoulder gently, Hawke takes one of the viscous potion bottles and moves to the couch, folding his legs under him and downing the concoction with a grimace. Silvervine is no real replacement for lyrium and tastes even worse, but it's something. ]
Try and relax, this is going to take some time but I'll have you feeling better as soon as I can.
[ His tone is soft, intentionally so. He's making as much of an effort as he can muster to tamp down on his anger, to keep what's useful and set aside the rest until the time comes. What's useful is positivity and care and he'll give both as determinedly as he can.
Hands hover over Chris' thighs and backside, the green glow returning as he calls forth his magic to sooth and to heal. Bruises and welts are easier, soothing stinging flesh much simpler than knitting what he can't see, and where the magic had an undercurrent of frigidity before Hawke makes sure its warm as a balm now. He keeps an eye on what he can see of Chris' face, judging his reaction and adjusting the spell as he can to Chris' comfort. If he manages to catch his eye, Hawke's quick with a gentle, reassuring smile.
This feels better, being a help like this instead of distracted by his own anger and anguish. He'll maintain it as long as he can. ]