Healing
The day had been a long one for Solas Otsoa. Leaving an injured twenty-something girl on his couch alone in his apartment was not his idea of an ideal arrangement. He had work to do, though, and he grimaced at the thought of the trouble she could cause. He sat down in the driver’s seat of his car, and slammed the door. He would have to put this from his mind for the time being.
Solas was a very conscientious driver. He nearly always drove the speed limit, except on the occasion of snow or rain, in which he drove much more slowly. This always got him honked at, and he was used to having people pass him and flip him the bird as soon as they were in front of him. He never let this bother him, however. Safety was paramount, and the way he saw it, it was a part of his moral code to minimize risk or harm to others. He thought of this as he pulled into his spot in the parking garage. His car gave a pathetic little ‘beep’ as he locked it, and he headed towards the stairwell.
As he reached the bottom, he pushed the doors open to the employee entrance. He passed by groups of medical personnel working and chatting, and headed to the nurses’ station.
“Would you mind processing these for me?” Solas asked, sliding a folder across the counter to Anders.
“Mhm,” Anders hummed at him, not raising his eyes from a small notebook he had been writing in. Solas rolled his eyes, and headed for his office.
Over the course of the next few hours, Solas saw many different patients with a variety of ailments. More animal attacks, he noticed, than usual. He would have to figure out what that was all about… Though he thought he might have an idea, what with all of the people mentioning their “tamed” pet dracolisks.
As his shift was winding down, he headed into a small examination room for the last patient of the day. On the table sat a woman with short, shaggy black hair and heavy eye makeup. She wore a denim vest covered in spikes and patches, and she raised her eyebrows when she saw Solas enter.
“Sup, b? I thought Anders would be in.” She kicked her feet in front of her, her legs being too short to reach the ground.
“He’s gone home for the day.” Solas responded, heading to the wall to get a fresh pair of gloves. “What can I help you with today?” He turned to her, looking expectant. She sighed, and started to roll up the sleeve of her shirt from her wrist.
“I came in to get Anders to clean these for me again.” She said. Solas’ stomach churned as he saw her arm was covered entirely in small bite marks. There were at least twenty he could see on her forearm alone.
“What…” His brow furrowed in understanding. He glanced at the chart left on the table, and it clicked. “...You’re Hawke, I presume?”
“Ye- hey, no!” She responded, caught off guard. “I’m- well, uh… Here.” she fished in her pocket, and pulled out a worn ID card, handing it to Solas. He squinted his eyes. The picture was of another dark-haired person, the name reading CARVER HAWKE.
“This is your brother, I presume?” Solas sighed and handed the card back to her. “Fine. I’ll pretend I didn’t see that.” He mumbled, too tired to lecture her. “Several others with similar bites have come in mentioning your name.” He began, but was cut off quickly.
“Hey homeslice, my mouth isn’t that small!” she protested.
“You are correct on that point.” Solas replied sarcastically. “The beasts you are breeding, however-”
“Ugh!” She threw her arms up in exasperation. “This blows, spaghetti-o.”
Solas paused and turned to her. “Excuse me?”
Hawke took a deep breath, and forced a dramatic sigh. “So, here’s the poop, daddy-o.” She began. “I was just chillin’ with my homies, shootin’ the shit, yo, and then a dracolisk opened up a can of whoop-ass on me, and I was like, ‘bruh, what’s your beef?’, but it didn’t take the hint to scram, so I got hella bitten, yo. But- but not before I told it to eat my shorts and I skedaddled out of there!”
Solas put his hand to his forehead. He was unsure if her story was what made no sense, or if she had stopped speaking English entirely, but he decided to just let it go and treat her.
***
Forty-five minutes later, Solas was finally peeling off his gloves and leaving the hospital. As he left through the back entrance, he saw a crowd of people huddled out by the wall.
“Shit, man, the Herald’s just gettin’ better and better!” he heard a voice say. He glanced over at the wall, and saw a very distinctive symbol spray painted on the brick. Great.
Solas pushed past the crowd to see the image. There was that damned eye- the artist’s signature, as it were. And, right next to it…
He sighed, and rubbed his temples. This was bad.
A gigantic hand, painted in black, stood out on the wall. The international symbol for the healers of Thedas. Instead of having the medical plus in the palm, however, there was a dollar sign that looked as though it was dripping. His eyes slid back over to the messily scrawled eye to the left of the piece. The Herald of Andraste. What a joke.
For the past year or so, the city of Haven had been plagued with the graffiti of a social-activist artist dubbed fondly by the citizens the “Herald of Andraste”, due to an incident in which the entirety of a chantry was covered in paintings overnight. Solas cringed at the memory. There were several depictions he would rather not have seen of Andraste engaged in lewd acts with the Knight-Commander. And… well, it seemed that they had struck again. He made a mental note to call the city cleanup and see when it would be removed.
As he drove home, he thought of Shiva. He hoped she hadn’t left yet. She was still in no state to, and he didn’t feel like picking her up off of the sidewalk again. He gritted his teeth.
“I guess I’ll just have to see for myself.” he mumbled into the empty air, pulling his car into park along the curb. The light was still on in his window. Good.
He entered his home to see nothing out of place. His eyes scanned the hallway briefly before he had an excited dog nearly knock him over. Of course. Her dog was still here. He had nearly forgotten. He pushed her off of him gently, and headed to the living room. He groaned when he saw what was in front of him.
Shiva was fast asleep, tangled up in his nice fur blanket, six feet away from the couch. On the floor. Solas nudged her to wake her, and she opened a sleepy eye at him and smiled broadly.
“Heeey, kiddo.” she slurred out at him. She lamely raised one hand, and made a finger-guns motion at him. She laughed at her own gesture, as though it was the funniest thing she had ever seen.
“What now?” Solas asked, exasperated. Shiva giggled, unmoving from the floor.
“I have to pee.” She drawled, trying to stand up. She tripped over the blanket as she was halfway standing, and ended up on the floor again.
“I see.” he said flatly, leaning down to help her up. “You have as much grace as a blind Halla.” he remarked bitterly.
Shiva blushed a deep red, and put both of her hands on Solas’ face affectionately.
“Thank you.” her eyes began to get glossy with tears. He certainly had not anticipated this reaction. He let go of her out of surprise, and she thudded on the floor.
“I’m- I’m sorry.” he apologized hurriedly, helping her up again. Her smile was still present, and she took his hands on her arms assisting her as an invitation for a hug. He stiffened as she wrapped her arms around him and breathed a gentle sigh into his neck.
“I have to pee.” She repeated sleepily. Solas snapped out his surprised state, and led her gently to the bathroom. She steadied herself against the wall before she entered, and put her finger to her lips and winked at him before she closed the door behind her. He stood there momentarily, wondering if he should assist her out of the room. He glanced at the coffee table, and saw the pain medication sitting open.
“Of course.” he muttered under his breath, heading over to clean up.
It could be worse, he supposed, picking the blanket up off of the floor. He let a small smile creep over his lips at the thought of the goofy girl in the other room.