igetthatalot | (no subject)

(no subject)

Here's the thing about Qunari. By and large, they generally do one thing with their lives, and they do it really, really well. A Qunari who bears the title of Arishok? Is really, really good at getting other Qunari to obey him without question. And most of the time, what impresses Qunari warriors enough to obey without question is martial prowess.

Hawke just barely survived her duel with one.

Varric is only the latest in the line of attendants at Hawke's bedside the day after her duel with the Qunari leader. Healing magic can't accomplish everything, so someone's got to keep an eye on her until she comes around.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There's a wry grin from the woman on the bed, or, at least an attempt at one.

"Certainly got my fill of those from the Arishok. Bastard tossed me around like a rag-doll."

"And you flew through the air with the greatest of ease," says Varric. "At least it looked that way from where I was standing."

She gives a half-laugh before grimacing as her ribs protest.

"Damnit Varric, I can't laugh right now."

"I could send for Fenris," Varric suggests; then he sobers. "Sorry. You don't deserve that. How're you doing overall?"

"Like I've been trampled and skewered by a particularly large Quinari," she snarks making to sit up in bed slightly, then thinking better of it. "Ugh. Not such a good idea."

"Take it easy. Magic's out of the picture for more healing for a while yet, but we can always get somebody in here with a decent talent for herbs," Varric says. "Or just a loaded wineskin."

"That would do it, wouldn't it?" she says softly, mental taking what exactly is hurting at the moment. "Y'could get Isab- someone to get some of the Hanged Man's finest. Then again, if I'm as bad off as I think I am, that may do in my innards for good."

"But what a smile you'd have on your face as you went," says Varric. "I'll make some arrangements, anyway. People wanted to know when you'd be up again."

"A while yet to go before I'm up and about, I think," says Hawke as she looks over at her companion, only to close her eyes as her world tilts oddly and her stomach turns. "At this rate I'm bound to just be cranky and hit people."

"Fair enough," says Varric. "You've earned the down time, I think. You sure did enough hitting, anyway."

"A little break sounds very good," she admits with a bit of softness in her voice. "Feels like I haven't really stopped moving or having to be at someplace or another, since I arrived in Kirkwall."

"Too bad it couldn't be under better circumstances," says Varric. "At least this way you have a built-in reason to turn down requests for help. Even you need a breather once in a while, Hawke."

"Yeah," she says, equally soft as before as she slowly just lets herself relax. "Maybe once I'm up an about, we can all have a bit of a break. Y'know? Just the lot of us on the town for the night."

"Sounds like the kind of plan I can get behind," says Varric. "The taverns won't know what hit them."

"Yes," Hawke says mildly. "Because Merrill's such the rabble-rouser when you get some drinks into her."

"It's always the quiet ones, isn't it..."

"Mmmmhmmm."

Errr. If Varric has anything else to say, he better do so quickly. Hawke is fading fast at this point, allowing her mind to wander along the mental image of an inebriated and rowdy Merrill.

"Tell you what, Hawke. I'll go and let people know you woke up, give them an idea of how you're doing, and then head back here," Varric says. "A little more napping would probably do you good."

"M'kay," she manages, cracking an eye open as the bed shifts and a familiar, furry visage settles onto the end of it. "Looks like it's someone else's turn to keep watch, anyway."

"Wouldn't dream of keeping him away," Varric says. "Sweet dreams."

There's a yawn, and Hawke settles further into her sheets.

"Th'nks Varric. F'everything."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only