wolfehawke: (careworn)
Adalwolfe Hawke ([personal profile] wolfehawke) wrote in [personal profile] chrisisofaith 2023-02-18 03:54 am (UTC)

It's not enough, not yet. His healing of Chris' throat is nearly done but there are other things to see to. He does know Chris will likely stop him is he goes too much longer so he has to choose what ails to mend well and quickly. Amelia helps with this, perhaps unwittingly, but she begins to sing and that gives Hawke a moment's pause as well, looking at her from his kneeling on the floor beside the couch. He doesn't recognize the tune but it's a balm regardless and he smiles again as he finishes up his work.

Throat mended to just some apparent redness, he withdraws his hand but not far, hovering over Chris' forearm just below the crook of his elbow, over the pocked burns left there. He can't tell what manner of weapon left them, but he's sure as hell not going to leave them puckered and painful looking like that. He waves the green pulse of his magic over the area, taking whatever pain they're still causing and pushing it to something dull and easily ignored. They'll likely scar but its better than remaining as they are.

He's beginning to feel light headed but the last spell he casts is the one he's wanted to most fervently since Chris' bandages had been removed. Not healing, but a spell Chris had taught him, one for cleaning, and he uses it now with effort to remove the already partially faded words from the cleric's skin. He reads each again as he makes sure they vanish. 'Slut' disappears without much thought. The dregs of 'you're welcome' fades away with a note at the back of Hawke's mind. 'Nothing' he erases last, staring hard at it and the absolute falsehood it spins. Chris is not nothing.

Chris is everything.

Everything he can see finally set as right as he can make it, Hawke releases his pull of his mana and settles back from his knees to his ass a little suddenly, like he's lost his balance. He has, a bit, but he's not going to swoon, not after all that. He just needs to sit for a moment and he'll stop tasting green.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Hawke shuts his eyes and leans into the couch, his forehead coming to rest very gently at Chris' temple and his hand on Amelia's knee as he listens to her song, the mood of it tugging at his already wrung out heart. They can yell at him now for overextending if they want, but he can't regret being able to do at least this.

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