III - Yarik and Tarvan - Part one

CONTENT WARNING:
XxNB, Asexual character, Platonic, D/s, Service (implied future), Negotiation, Hurt/Comfort, Healing wound description

Yarik carefully removes the bandages still soaked with the previous day's poultice and cleans the mix of mashed herbs and exudate off the wounded arm. The skin underneath is purple and scarred from just below the elbow to the fingertips. The former strenght and rough elegance of the extremity can still be guessed from its healthy counterpart, but the affected hand now lays limp and toneless on his lap like a dried flower.
"It's not going to get any better, isn't it?" asks Tarvan, looking at the limb with affected detachment. Yarik doesn't rise the eyes from his work, worried of what he might see in those of the young sailor. It's not being long since the last time their screams of agony kept the house awake at night and the allucinations made them trash around fighting off invisible monsters. Their quiet voice now is almost as scary.
"Do you feel anything when I touch it?" Yarik asks running his fingers on the scarred skin. Tarvan shakes their head "Only the pressure when you push deep on it, but it's been like this for weeks," they put their other hand over the dark one of the former quartermaster, halting its massage. "I don't want to keep being cared of for all my life, Sir," they add softly.
"No, no laddie," Yarik shakes his head, the mind scrambling for words of hopes to feed the other. "That won't happen. I just need to try more..." his eyes trails off to the medicines cabinet, filled with ointments and promises that failed to be kept for the past two months. A hand touches his left cheeck, stopping his train of thought and bringing his eyes to the freckled face in front of him. "Master, it's enough. You did enough. Thank you."
Yarik grabs their hand and squeezes his eyes shut trying to stop the tears building in. He doesn't have the right to feel sad, he's not the one whose body has been broken without remedy. He shouldn't let his own frustration take centre stage, when his patient has been so brave and strong during all he put them through. "I don't want to give up on you," he guiltily admits.
A thumb strokes under his eye, making him open them again and meet Tarvan's gentle smile. "You are not giving up on me, Sir," They rise the shoulder making the wounded arm jump on his lap. "Only on a little piece of flesh that's still attached to me."
"You had dreams... I don't think this..." Yarik trails off, defeated.
Tarvan gives a chuckle that, despite the situation, fails to sound bitter. "There's plenty of maimed pirates, Sir. The sea is not a safe way of life, I knew it from the start."
The guilt in Yarik chest rises its head again at the implications. How much pain he could have saved them if he didn't stubbornly try to save the arm, if he wasn't so proud to think he could do better than any one before him was ever able to? And all for what? Cutting it off now, after weeks of pain? He tries to swallow it back. "I'm not a good surgeon, I'll need to find one if you want to... "
Tarvan straightens up, resting the arm back on their own lap. "I have no rush. I can't do much with it, but I can do some things," they rise the arm in demonstration. And yes, Yarik realizes, the hand hangs lifeless, but they can still move the forearm normally and there is strenght left in the muscles there. "When Daniya will be back to the scalpel, if it's gotten worse by then, she can do it," Tarvan reassures him.
Yarik rises his gaze. "Are you going to stay?"
The cabin lad inches back in their cot, as if startled by a sudden thought. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't want to presume..." they shake their head.
"No, no," Yarik grabs at their shoulders. "Would you like to stay, Tarvan?"
"I... I don't want to be a burden, Sir," they look around at the room's walls, decorated with tools and contraptions more commonly associated with an house of pleasure than one of healing. "I don't think I can help much here."
"I asked you if you would like to stay, lad," Yarik insists firmly. His eyes capture the other's and he notices with pleasure their cheeks turning pink. "Deciding how you can best serve me will be my prerogative, if you accept."
"It's a generous offer, Sir," Tarvan nods without looking away, "but I want to discuss the details before deciding. I want to be sure I'm not taking advantage of your generosity. I already owe you so much."
"You're smarter than the crew ever gave you credit for," Yarik smirks, leaving the chair he was sitting on to sit in the bed, beside his patient. "Tell me. What do you expect out of our arrangement?"
"Oh, I have no expectations." Tarvan shakes their head.
"No, that's not how we do this,"Yarik stops them, "neither of us agreed to anything, yet. You now tell me how you want this to work and I'll tell you how I want it to work and if there are things we both want, we'll do those. If there are things we are unsure about we talk more and see if we can find a middle way. Or we leave them out of it."
Tarvan nods. "I suppose I will be living here, so I want to work in the house and in the shop like everyone else," they states, "but I don't like doing... you know... I don't mind giving massages and things like that but with this..." he rises again the arm with a frown.
"Uhm, I see where your mind is," Yarik nods, "first of all, of course you are going to stay here. And of course you are going to help," he confirms. "I have an idea of commissioning a cover and support for your arm, so it won't be as awkward for you to work. And I want to keep looking for something to make it better, if you allow me. There are a lot of things to do in the shop and in the house even if you don't want to become a therapist, but there are a lot of our patients who don't need any kind of sexual treatment, so if you are interested in training, we can find something for you to work on, I'm sure."
"I would like that," Tarvan nods. "I miss a little learning new things and... having a purpose I guess," they scratch their upper arm nervously.
"No wonder you do," Yarik smiles, "I'm sorry I didn't pick up on it sooner. If we go on with this you'll have to tell me when you need something."
"I will, Sir"
"And I'll want to keep looking for something that can improve the state of your arm, if you'll let me."
"That would be very kind of you, Sir"
"And in general to take care of you. I consider everybody in this house to be under my care and responsibility."
"Even Sonqui?" Tarvan dares with a mischievus glint in their eyes.
"Oh, Sonqui most of all. Who knows in what kind of trouble he might end if I didn't keep an eye on him," he grins affectionately, "You and Danyia are responsible, he's a fool."