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“Elgar’nan, would you please stay still?”
Hawke squirmed, arm twitching where Merrill was trying to apply a poultice to a gash in her arm. They’d wrapped up fighting a few oversized spiders near Merrill’s clan, and of course Hawke had jumped in front of one to take a hit for the mage.
“I can’t help that it stings,” she whined.
“You shouldn't go jumping in front of giant spiders then, ma vhenan.”
“It was going after you. I had to do something, Merrill.”
Merrill huffed, applying the last of the poultice. “You could have been hurt. I’m not that good at healing spells, you know.”
“It could be worse. I have giant plate armor on, Merrill. You’re in furs. It would have done far more damage to you than it did to me.” Hawke reached out and took her hand, rubbing her thumb in what she hoped were soothing circles.
Sighing, Merrill agreed. “I know, but that doesn’t make me like it any less," she said, returning the pressure on Hawke's hand.
“A big, stupid spider isn’t going to take me from you, Merrill.” She leaned over and kissed the other woman’s cheek as she grinned. “It’ll take much more than that to kill me.”
Merrill helped Hawke stand before hugging her tightly. “And thank the Creators for that.”