[Hawke drops to her knees, hands shaking, as her fingers brush the bolt. This is bad. Her thoughts are the same as Varric's: these wounds are dangerous and deadly and she needs to act fast. She can already feel herself getting lightheaded from the pain and blood loss.
Her staff clatters to the floor as one hand grips end of the bolt and the other is raised in preparation to try and heal what she can after the bolt tears the wrong way through her flesh. She steels herself with a deep breath and then pulls. The pain causes her to instantly scream and retch. Then she slams her palm down and a glowing green light emanates over the wound. She's shit at healing but she has to do something. She turns to ask Varric for help and suddenly he's not at her side but in front of her facing down his shadow.
"I love her".
And then it's gone.
Hawke blinks. Varric loves her. And she's that her. She doesn't know what to make of it. Varric had always been there for her. From when she lost Carver and her Mother, to when she came down with a horrible case of the flu, to dramatic hangovers, and silly injuries. They were always together. Varric and Hawke. Hawke and Varric.
But love... Hawke didn't like that word. It meant too many things. It was weighted. It tied you to people and places and things and trapped you there. She'd loved her mother and father and her siblings. She would have done anything for them. But they were gone now and you couldn't love ghosts as you could a person.
Tony, Pepper, Nate, and Elena... she felt something for them. Something that was hard to place. Was it love? Was she capable of loving them? Hawke didn't know.
no subject
Her staff clatters to the floor as one hand grips end of the bolt and the other is raised in preparation to try and heal what she can after the bolt tears the wrong way through her flesh. She steels herself with a deep breath and then pulls. The pain causes her to instantly scream and retch. Then she slams her palm down and a glowing green light emanates over the wound. She's shit at healing but she has to do something. She turns to ask Varric for help and suddenly he's not at her side but in front of her facing down his shadow.
"I love her".
And then it's gone.
Hawke blinks. Varric loves her. And she's that her. She doesn't know what to make of it. Varric had always been there for her. From when she lost Carver and her Mother, to when she came down with a horrible case of the flu, to dramatic hangovers, and silly injuries. They were always together. Varric and Hawke. Hawke and Varric.
But love... Hawke didn't like that word. It meant too many things. It was weighted. It tied you to people and places and things and trapped you there. She'd loved her mother and father and her siblings. She would have done anything for them. But they were gone now and you couldn't love ghosts as you could a person.
Tony, Pepper, Nate, and Elena... she felt something for them. Something that was hard to place. Was it love? Was she capable of loving them? Hawke didn't know.
Her head swam. Her palm was wet. She felt sick.]
Varric?