Wrote a thing... and a combination of Favian taking over my brain during a train commute to make me write, plus writing quickly before my stop, made it become a kind of stream of consciousness, and honestly I quite like how it turned out. Even though I broke a bunch of writing rules, but rules are made for breaking innit.
Five Hours, and If This is Love (AO3)
The first of a few short fics I'll be posting as chapters of a collection for @the-archons-moustache's Inquisitor Tobias Trevelyan x my Favian (who in the Fobyverse is Just Some Guy). There is angst, hurt/comfort, wound tending, a little more angst, and then a little hope. Two disasters at their worst.
Lonely Hours by Mallory Knox is a perfect accompaniment.
Three hours he worked, and he was no healer but he did know poisons, and poisons had antidotes, and thatās all this was, really, a poison needing an antidote, a poison of wasting flesh and blood, and Favian slipped on his mask, the mask of one who did not care, who wasnātĀ cursed to love, who entirely impassively woke Toby just enough to pour concoctions down his throat that Favian wasnāt certain would work, but what else could he do -Ā Ā why am I doing this, why did he do this, why does he keep doing this?
Two hours since he took a knife and placed it in flame and burnt and sliced away the dead skin and flesh and seared it shut, until Toby woke and yelled and hit out again, and Favian held an open vial beneath Tobyās nose and his eyes rolled and he was out again, and Favian scrubbed his own eyes with the back of his hand so he could see, so he could cut and clean and stitch and pin a bandage to the stump of an arm.
One hour since he stopped, dropped to his knees, cradled Toby's head to his chest -Ā I canāt do this, I canāt, I canāt -Ā he couldnāt heal because he was no healer, he couldnāt keep on when Toby fought back, he was losing strength, until Tobyās eyes came open once more. A murmured apology, a thank you, anĀ I love youĀ and another apology.
Love? What do either of us know of love?
A moment of clarity, or of delusion. Both?
The rest is on Ay-Oh-Threeeee
