[Before now, any contact has been about grudging necessity. It's necessity still now, true, perhaps even more so than normal, but— different, even still. He's always craved contact, the touch of another person, the way the templars always tried to deny him, the way he denied himself for so long, and now.... He doesn't realize the way his body sways slightly forward when Fenris reaches for him.]
Then— hah. [It's an exhale, more than anything. His fingers catch around where Fenris' hand is at the front of his robe to keep his arm steady.] I could tell you that a dragon swooped down and plucked me out of the tree, for all that you're actually listening to me. You're all right. Just let me do this one thing.
[His eyes scan smoothly back towards the door as he peels the poultice away, a cursory check for anyone hovering outside. Satisfied, his palm glows faintly, following the length of Fenris' arm; the main wound closes, deep blood bruises fade, overstretched muscles relax.
It all feels so insignificant, compared against the delirious state Fenris is in. Important, but still too small to matter. Anders grits his teeth against flashes of new anger; if he can do nothing else, if they're both meant to eventually die in this place, he will at least ensure the templars don't get the satisfaction of causing it.]
All right. Let's warm you up. Hold still for me.
[He leans over Fenris to reach for more scraps of robes to tuck around his torso. Taken together, they could almost be a decent blanket. They won't be enough by themselves, but that's all right. Anders won't have much between him and the stone floor either, but that's all right too. The priority now is making sure Fenris makes it through the night.]
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branchandroot
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Date: 2014-12-22 04:16 am (UTC)Then— hah. [It's an exhale, more than anything. His fingers catch around where Fenris' hand is at the front of his robe to keep his arm steady.] I could tell you that a dragon swooped down and plucked me out of the tree, for all that you're actually listening to me. You're all right. Just let me do this one thing.
[His eyes scan smoothly back towards the door as he peels the poultice away, a cursory check for anyone hovering outside. Satisfied, his palm glows faintly, following the length of Fenris' arm; the main wound closes, deep blood bruises fade, overstretched muscles relax.
It all feels so insignificant, compared against the delirious state Fenris is in. Important, but still too small to matter. Anders grits his teeth against flashes of new anger; if he can do nothing else, if they're both meant to eventually die in this place, he will at least ensure the templars don't get the satisfaction of causing it.]
All right. Let's warm you up. Hold still for me.
[He leans over Fenris to reach for more scraps of robes to tuck around his torso. Taken together, they could almost be a decent blanket. They won't be enough by themselves, but that's all right. Anders won't have much between him and the stone floor either, but that's all right too. The priority now is making sure Fenris makes it through the night.]