#38. being physically/emotionally vulnerable
It was like a whisper from across the room, Ambrós trying to will himself to stand up and get his salves, only to fall back into bed. His chest ached, wanting to be free of his relentless bandaging. Lungs throb against cracked ribs and he felt like everything was constricting around him. Reva pulled himself away from his work, gathering what Amb needed before they could start.
“Here, sit back down.” “I.. I want to stand.” “After.” “Can we do this outside?” “It’s too cold for you right now, Ambrós.”
A resigned sigh, he let Reva unbutton his shirt and toss it aside, a clean one waiting for him.
Distress built in the smaller Lavellan as Reva slowly unraveled his bandaging. He was so weak he couldn’t even do this himself. Watching the roll of old fabric come undone into a pile beside him, his breaths escaped in uneven shudders. He was pathetic.
Palm pressing against his cheek, Reva made him look up as he gently rolled his thumb under his eyes.
“You aren’t a burden, Ambrós.” It was like he read his beloved’s mind. “You’re sick. You’ll get better, I promise.”
He couldn’t muster the questions, instead just allowing Reva to resume caring for him. A warm cloth rolling over his arms, washing away sweat that built up with his fever from the previous night. Dipping it back into the bucket by his feet, Reva rinsed and gently slid the soaked fabric over his face. Tears were pulled away, the warm water bringing small comfort as it gently kneaded against his cheeks. Cold air set in, leaving Ambrós a little more refreshed than he had been.
“Better?” “A little bit.”
Another dip in the bucket, cloth carefully going in circles on his chest, around his ribs. Bruising remained from wounds still unhealed, Reva gentle and doing his best to not aggravate it. A wince as he touched upon bruises, nothing too extreme, Ambrós assured him he was fine.
Reva set his lips upon his beloved’s forehead, finished with his chest for the time being.
“Can you lay on your stomach yet?” “Kind of.” “Here, let me help.”
Gathering pillows to keep him propped up, Reva remained at Amb’s side, getting him in a mostly comfortable position. He didn’t ignore how he trembled when trying to move, the way his arms shook when trying to support himself, how strained his breaths came no matter how he tried to hide it. It broke his heart, being unable to help him.
This was why he worked. Dorian, even Vivienne, the three of them trying to help Ambrós as best they could. Solas provided nothing, unable to even keep the anchor in check anymore.
“I’ll make you some tea after this. Maybe we can go to the garden after if you’re feeling it.” “I’d like that.”
He always promised it, but had yet to deliver. From the moment Ambrós would stand, he’d be unable to go further. The sickness in him was too great. Reva wanted nothing more than for him to get better. The reality, however, was the opposite. Every day, he worsened. Weaker, more lethargic, exhausted.
He feared for the day he wouldn’t wake.
Palm kneading against his spine, gently washing away stress and knots of fatigue, Reva set his own temporary worry at ease. For a moment, they could pretend everything was back to normal. Relatively normal, at least. Palms now slick, salves being worked against his beloved’s marred back, he watched Amb’s fingers curl against the pillows.
“Are you alright?” “You really do think I’m a burden.”
Words spoken at the same time, Reva bit his lip when he processed what Ambrós said. Hands still working salve between his shoulder blades, he felt the smaller elf begin to shudder, forcing back sobs that he knew his chest couldn’t handle right now.
“Ambrós..” “No! I want.. I want the truth! You think I’m a burden. You.. You hate doing stuff for me and..And..”
It was here Reva stopped, instead helping Ambrós sit up, pulling him into his lap to hold him close. Though he had tried to curb his tears, they fell, breaths uneven and coming out in wheezes as he choked out a pain sob.
“Fenorain, you aren’t a burden. You’re very sick right now, is all; taking care of you isn’t something I dread. It isn’t your fault this happened, and we’re going to make it through this.” “But..I jus-I jus..I can’t..” “Shh..”
Laying Amb’s ear against his chest, fingers comb through his hair, an attempt to calm his hysterics. It worked, albeit only a small amount. Arm coiled around his shoulders and keeping his head cradled to his heart, Reva pressed kisses to the top of his head. Heaviness weighed in him, beloved feeling so pained at being unable to do anything for himself. He felt useless, pathetic.
“I know you feel this way, but… Fenorain, you aren’t useless. You’re sick. We’re working on a way to make you better. You won’t be this way forever. This isn’t you, and nobody thinks less of you for being unwell.”
Petting his hair and running his thumb under his beloved’s eyes, Reva rested his chin to the top of his head. His crying had subsided, chest aching with every breath.
"Ambrós..“ Nuzzling against his cheek, Reva whispered quietly. Palm sliding softly against his spine, Ambrós leaning to his touch, fighting against his uneven breaths.
