[ It's been awhile, in all honesty, since he's been this torn up. He's good at what he does; the scars that mark him are largely from his younger years, or the rare occasion he took a contract far beyond what he knows he should attempt, for his own reasons. (A certain princess cursed in a crypt comes to mind.)
Perhaps it should be ironic that it isn't some beast he fought that'll give him his new scars. Fitting, maybe.
He grips the bedframe and steadies himself while she works on him. Some of it is the pain, but some of it is that he's just tired. Sitting still takes effort, when someone's prodding at open pieces of your flesh—but at least her words do something, even if it's not exactly what she might mean them to, drawing a startled huff of a laugh out of him in between shallow breaths. ]
Is this part of the healing magic? [ Maybe if he held memories of a typical childhood, he might've joked about how much like his mother or an old teacher she sounds. (Except he does remember his mother, brief snippets of her; they're just things he'd rather not acknowledge.) Mostly, his only reference is watching other mothers with their own children. ]
no subject
Perhaps it should be ironic that it isn't some beast he fought that'll give him his new scars. Fitting, maybe.
He grips the bedframe and steadies himself while she works on him. Some of it is the pain, but some of it is that he's just tired. Sitting still takes effort, when someone's prodding at open pieces of your flesh—but at least her words do something, even if it's not exactly what she might mean them to, drawing a startled huff of a laugh out of him in between shallow breaths. ]
Is this part of the healing magic? [ Maybe if he held memories of a typical childhood, he might've joked about how much like his mother or an old teacher she sounds. (Except he does remember his mother, brief snippets of her; they're just things he'd rather not acknowledge.) Mostly, his only reference is watching other mothers with their own children. ]