[Past] You, Me and a Pitcher of Cream

Megara chuckled, climbing over the couch to get behind him. Healer’s prerogative I’m afraid. We’ll always find something to fuss about, but I’m glad, don’t wanna see you like those poor souls in Darktown. Lyrium was a slippery slope.

Her touches began gently, appraising the injury while also observing his tensing reaction. Her gaze wandered his back, noting the scars here and there that had been treated haphazardly in her eyes, it caused a small frown to form. Questions came to mind, but unwilling to cause him more discomfort the healer refrained from asking. Instead she hummed, the soft waltzing melody replacing conversation for the moment.

Narrowing down the main knot her hands and fingers focused on unwinding the muscle group. She surmised that if he was this reluctant to be touched, magic was out of the question, but as she unwound a particular coiled nerve bundle the relief vibrated through.

There we go, making headway now, Meg chuckled softly. See, doesn’t always have to be magic that fixes things. A few more minutes and you’ll feel like a new man. I could fix it fine with magic, but we can do this over a few sessions if you prefer my wee hands.

@Nairn