#and essek running out of ways to convince him to sleep and just. holding him through the night
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it's been a whiiiiiiiiiile
#critical role#caleb widogast#essek thelyss#shadowgast#the mighty nein#cr2#critical role fanart#if you know the reference picture i am kissing you on the forehead narrative foil style#this is caleb having a hard time sleeping bcs of the Thinking#and essek running out of ways to convince him to sleep and just. holding him through the night#teansoupnart
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To Belong
Alright here’s some hurt/comfort as requested. Canon divergence where Caleb wasn’t able to dispel Gaudius’ hold on Essek.
One of Lucien’s many eyes looks toward him and everything slows. Warmth seeps in through his pores, sinking in through skin going straight to his head. He hears their call and for a moment he resists but, why would he?
He’s never belonged. He didn’t belong in Roshona, surrounded by religious zealots blinded by the comfort that comes with trust. Incurious, simple minded fools. He didn’t even belong with the Nein, not really. None of them trust him, he’s been eclipsed by his sins and nothing can break through to them.
He needs a blank slate, if he is to belong anywhere he has to be able to start over completely. That is what Gaudius offers, a new beginning, no judgement, no proving himself. He doesn’t have to work for their acceptance and love fills his heart. The Somnovum will take him as he is and there’s never anything he’s wanted more.
Everything is clearer now, these people were never in it for him. He drags his hands, beginning to pull at the strands of gravity as Lucien fills his mind with the power he can achieve once he’s one with them. When he joins the city.
The human lifts his hand to cast at him and without even thinking he waves his hand to counter the spell. “Essek no!” The blue tiefling looks horrified, feigning care even now.
He curls his fingers in, pooling gravity and thrusts his hands forward, centering the darkness on the wizard who’s toyed with him for nearly a year. The effect isn’t immediate but it will pay off, he’s sure and those caught inside, the humans, the clerics, the angel, the halfling will feel it’s effects soon enough.
The firbolg is the first. He hasn’t taken much damage but this seems to get to him. As Essek’s fingers clench he crumples like paper and Essek squeezes before releasing. He flies as far as he can but it isn’t far enough. More will come.
Up next, he feels the thief resisting, she’s strong and muscles through but it’s not pretty. Her form stretches briefly as he pulls and stretches with two hands before snapping back into place and he’s sure she cries for the wizard who cannot hear or see her. Something twinges in the back of his mind but Lucien calls out again and he remembers the family waiting for him.
The monk tries to appeal to him through her newfound abilities, she seems to be able to see through the darkness. She tries her hardest to reach some part of him still foolish enough to turn away from happiness and towards them, he hardly listens. She moves to run out of his grasp but just before she can make it he grabs hold and twists. Her body contorts and he can almost feel her crumble away, but she gains control and she just barely breaks out of his grasp.
He feels Caleb try to resist but his efforts just aren’t enough. He looks Essek directly in the eyes, and he hears whispers of the wizard’s voice try to get through to him, “You must break free, we need more time”. Essek’s face stretches into a wicked grin at this obvious manipulation tactic (I will show you belonging the way he couldn’t bear to) as he twists his wrist and pulls down, compressing the body in front of him. The wizard nearly leaves his influence but he’ll have another chance to take him down.
The angel didn’t stand a chance. She can’t resist the pull of his gravity and even if she could scream the monk’s name she wouldn’t be able to see her or save her. As he finishes with her his mind drifts back to memory, spurred by the wizard’s sweet words. We need more time. It will take time. You were not born with venom in your veins. Something snaps in the back of his mind and the Nonagon’s whispers turn to acid in his mind. He can see properly, he drops the spell and turns to Lucien, screaming as he turns on the beast with nine eyes, unleashing a torrent of inky black lightning, hitting him square in the chest.
-------
The battle is over and by some strange grace they’re all alive. The Nein are both celebrating and consoling each other. In the end they appealed to Molly and, for the second time, he was his own undoing.
It feels like intruding to be there, he who has done another irrevocable deed. He would leave immediately if he still had the energy but that effort is insurmountable. Caduceus had gotten them back to their own plane and they’re resting in an open field, surrounded by Caleb’s alarm spell, taking turns at watch. None of them are quite ready to be around their loved ones quite yet, needing one more night together as a family before dealing with the gravity of what they’ve accomplished.
Fjord holds Jester, keeping an eye on the horizon and whispering comfort as she silently cries into his shoulder. Beau and Yasha are curled together trying to sleep, Caleb has Frumpkin around his shoulders and Veth is curled into his side, Caduceus’ legs overlapping with Fjord’s in the tight space. There’s hardly room for Essek to sit in this small circle of sombre camaraderie, and the emotions of his travelling companions are simply too much for him so he stands to put some distance between them. Just for a moment. Just so he doesn’t have to look them in the eyes.
He stands, knees cracking and makes his way out to he open field. Nobody seems disturbed, none of them react and nobody calls after him. In the night air he’s met with stars and silence, the night sky used to comfort him. Now it’s a void he could be swallowed in and with the way he feels right now, he wishes it would.
His hair is coated with somebody’s blood, his body is battered and bruised and his spirit is shattered. They’d taken him along to help, they’d allowed him such an important opportunity to redeem himself and he’d nearly killed them. He’d made it far easier for Lucien to knock them down, luckily Caduceus and Jester had been focused and able to heal quickly enough. He’d ended up being a burden and once again a traitor.
“Essek.” He hears his name, a warning so he isn’t startled. Caleb’s voice drifts on the breeze, “Are you alright?”
He sighs, letting his head fall and squeezing his eyes shut. “No.”
“Let’s sit.”
He obliges, silent, waiting for Caleb to set the tone.
“You need to know we do not blame you for what happened. Yasha turned too, these things are not our fault.”
He can’t bare to look over but he does anyway. Caleb’s eyes shine with worry, furrowed brow pulling creases into his forehead. “It could have turned out so badly Caleb. That magic, it’s made to kill. You are all very lucky for your ability to escape and my comparative lack of experience in battle. I could have turned you to dust.”
Caleb sighs, “Guilt over hypotheticals is a waste of your time and energy. You could have, but you didn’t. We’re all still here, and we wouldn’t be without you. Don’t let yourself fall into the trap of comfortable self-loathing, you’ll waste years.”
“You couldn’t understand Caleb, I was convinced. I didn’t even want to resist. It was only-” he pauses on the brink of the confession and decides to throw caution to the wind, “It was only you that brought me back. My mind wasn’t my own, I was imprisoned and lied to and I was stupid enough to believe it.”
“I understand more than you know.” He looks instantly older, Essek has frequently wondered what Trent had done to Caleb to take such a bright and excellent man with so much kindness in his heart, and turn him hard. “I have been deceived, lied to, it lead to my worst moments. I’ve told you we are not so different and it’s clearer now more than ever. If there is redemption for me, as I’ve been assured many times there will be, you will find yours.”
Essek shakes his head, “It would have been nobler for me to die for the world than to continue this pathetic existence. It would have been a just end, poetic and balanced. Now there’s so much unresolved I don’t know where to start or where to go.”
Caleb’s hand covers his on the grass, “Well, we can start by researching, it’s what we do best. Everyone else has someone to go to, family to see, something to go back to. I only have forward momentum, more to learn and see. You could join me, we can go back to Aeor and see what comes.”
Essek nods, “I do not deserve that but because I am a selfish creature I accept your offer.”
Caleb squeezes his hand and he looks up again, into his eyes, “It does not matter what you think you deserve. You are not the decider of what I offer you.” He has a fierce look about him, he may have hit a nerve, “Trust that I know what I want and when I say I want you with me it’s not out of pity or some savior complex. Let me offer you this and quell any self-pity or doubt. I’m not obligated to like you or want to be around you, but I do because I like you Essek. I think it should be plain by now that I like you a great deal and I hope that you will come along with me, to see where this leads us.”
Despite himself, Essek turns his hand over under Caleb’s and tentatively laces their fingers together. He’s seen him do similar things with the Nein and when Caleb doesn’t flinch he relaxes a bit. “I will trust you in this. I am also quite fond of you. Thank-you, for your words. For your trust. One day I hope to feel worthy of such a gift.”
Caleb squeezes his hand and leads him back to the tent where they sit side by side wordlessly before falling asleep, still holding hands.
#critfic#essek thelyss#caleb widogast#shadowgast#critical role#cr spoilers#critical role spoilers#Gaudius' power is so insidious and i LOVE#hope this isn't too ooc#i had a hurt/comfort request and I also didn't want to write character death rn#but wow am i emotional about this ep jeeeeeze#omniwrites
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i can't decide if i want 12 or 16 more for the shadowgast ficlet from that things fictional couples do prompt list
I did 12 here, so this is for 16! I had three requests for this one and admittedly it was... hard, I'm not sure that I quite captured the true spirit of the prompt, but I like how this ended up!
The knock on the door is soft enough that he nearly doesn’t hear it, as absorbed in his text and the findings his researchers have brought back from Aeor proper as he is, but after a minute he blinks and swings his legs off of the arm of the chair to stand and tread softly to the door.
He is, somehow, not surprised to see Caleb standing there, face as miserable and exhausted as he’d been when he’d left to sleep this evening, and Essek gapes at him.
“You should be resting,” he says, perhaps too gently, and Caleb runs both hands over his face, inhaling.
“I can’t sleep, I—“ he inhales again. “I keep dreaming that one of my… one of the scourgers somehow have found you, I couldn’t—“ He leans into the doorframe and presses his hands to his face fully now, and his shoulders tremble. “I had to know you were alright, I had to—“ He takes a deep breath, seemingly to calm himself, and stands up straight. “Can I come in?”
Without a word, Essek steps aside and gestures him into the warmth of his quarters.
“Caleb, as you can see, I’m fine,” he insists, when Caleb settles down on the chair he has just vacated, and he rests on the edge of the bed a few feet from him. “And you are here now, so if you are worried about my protection, well, you won’t have to rely only on the troops here.”
“I know, I just—“ He shakes his head. “I can’t get him out of my head.”
Essek leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees to match Caleb. “Is he still contacting you?”
“No, no, but…”
Caleb shakes his head again, and it seems not like a no and more like a wet animal trying to get water from its ears.
“I can’t tell. When I wake up with his voice in my head, I don’t know if I’m dreaming or if he’s in the room or if he’s merely haunting me in the way he knows how. I—“ He runs out of breath, pauses to catch it, and Essek lets him keep talking. “Every time I think I can sleep I hear it again, and I… I can’t tell. When it’s real or not.”
Essek is not familiar with physical comfort, as much as it might be warranted here, and while Caleb is hunched into himself, a slight rock in his shoulders, gripping his forearms even through layers of coat and sweater, Essek doesn’t even think that would be a particular help.
Still, he crouches on the floor and pulls Caleb’s hands from his scars and holds onto them tightly, feeling entirely out of his element, but when Caleb meets his eyes, he thinks that at least a little magic, he can offer.
“Close your eyes,” he says, and when Caleb does, he levitates his spellbook off the desk to his left and lets it hover beside him. Letting go with one hand, he signs runes in the air, and mouthing the words beneath his breath, he casts Sending.
I cannot keep him from your mind, but he does not have to monopolize your thoughts, if you don’t want him to.
Caleb’s face, for the first time since he arrived today, twists into a slow, crooked smile. “That’s very kind of you.”
Normally he would not waste spells for this kind of thing, but the heaviness that evaporates from Caleb’s shoulders with just the first is enough to coerce him. He casts the runes again, faltering for a moment as he wonders what else to say. You can feel the arcane here, yes? It is not the same as a thought. It is more concrete, more tangible. Nothing like a hallucination.
“Yes,” Caleb agrees, and his hand tightens around Essek’s. He casts the spell again.
I’m sure you could convince Jester to do this, if you care to. I imagine she would be happy to oblige, if she is able.
“I’m afraid…” Caleb purses his lips, his eyes still closed. “I’m afraid that would not help alleviate the guilt.” He smiles. “How are you able to cast it without speaking?”
I am speaking very softly, but what arrives in your mind is loud enough that it drowns it out.
“Ah.”
Do you not use this spell? I simply assumed that Jester merely enjoyed tormenting her recipients.
“No, no. I never picked it up, as Jester can cast it, though with how many times it would have been useful in recent days…” he opens his eyes and meets Essek’s gaze, and he looks stronger now than he was when he walked in, by miles. “Would you mind if I copied it from you?”
“I would mind if you choose to do that instead of sleep, yes. You are exhausted, Caleb.”
Caleb’s crooked smile returns. “I’m not sure I am able to sleep, still.”
“Then sleep here. I can trance in my chair—the luxon knows I’ve done it enough.” Caleb gapes at him. “Don’t look so aghast.”
“I would not wish to impose—“
“You would not be imposing,” he says dryly, and stands, realizing how close they are now that Caleb is looking at him. “If we are to leave tomorrow, you will need to have your wits about you.”
“As will you.”
“And I can rest perfectly fine seated.” He shrugs. “Besides, I am still working. Get a few hours rest here, and if I for some reason deem myself in dire need of a bed, I will wake you.”
The humor in Caleb’s face makes him think there’s an innuendo there that he’s missed, and he flushes slightly, but doesn’t move. “Very well.”
“Good.”
Caleb stands, and as he does, he catches Essek’s face in his hands and gives him the quickest kiss on the forehead. “Thank you.”
Essek freezes. “It was nothing, really.”
As Caleb discards his coat and shoes and climbs beneath the covers, Essek resituates himself in his chair, one leg tucked beneath him and the other drawn up to rest his elbow on, and he returns to the book and his notes, but after a moment, he glances over at Caleb, whose eyes are closed and whose face is still tight. His fingers move with little more than a thought, and he uses far too powerful a spell to send Caleb a message across the room. Good night, Caleb Widogast. Get some rest.
Caleb's brow smooths with a soft smile, and his voice is little more than a murmur as he responds. “Danke. Good night, Essek.”
#critical role#cr fic#cr spoilers#shadowgast#caleb widogast#essek thelyss#I've had this concept for a week and a half and had not made it work really#so this was good#why am I incapable of writing short prompt fills? not a clue#listen I just prefer to build to things#I like SUBSTANCE#unless the fic is just one character it's hard anyway
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c2e140
So okay is tonight the last episode? Because people keep saying it is basically and like while I’ve resigned myself to it ending I feel like if it ends tonight it’s gonna be VERY abrupt
I’ve been so distracted by the battle I forgot to type lol
That thing Caleb did with the glaive was intense tho and very clever
[[MORE]]
"I cast Marine Layer!!!" lol
I’m sorry HOW many attacks??
Jfc how is Veth still up
Don’t make her cut through the body of her wife wtf Matt
Oh thank goodness
Veth noooooo
"Lots of cover" says Caleb, who is trapped under a tower
E: "Caleb I need you!"
Me: AHHHHHHHHHHHH
I’m crying
YAAAAAS BABY
SAVING HIS MAN
"Press my forehead to his forehead" FUCKINGGGGGGGS
F O R E H E A D T O U C H
I’m going to cry forehead touches are my FAVORITE form of showing affection and intimacy
jester NO
This is starting to get frustrating as a fight come ON KILL HIM
Both of the clerics going down
Wonderful
Oh thank GOD he had death ward
Holding onto his maaaaaan
Caleb that’s smart very nice
Should have willed her to just live tho tbh
Fuck I need to sleep just as the fight has started to get interesting/stressful
Oh thank god that Cad had a diamond ready to bring her back
Oh no is it gonna fail??
FUCK
that’s the first time they’ve failed to bring someone back
OH MY GOD
MATTHEW YOU SON OF A BITCH
God the clerics are in BAD shape
Please stop picking on my kids
Cant Lucien and the Eyes just die
He’s down fuck
And Essek’s right there with him
Fuck
Oh thank GOD for that heal bless you Laura/Jester
Niiiiiice!
Oh daaaaamn Beau nice move
NAT20 YEAAHHHH
Marisha jumping up and down in her chair lol
Essek Gonna fuck him UP for hurting Caleb HELL yeah
Y’all I’m writing so much Shadowgast in my head
FUCK HIM UP BOIIIIIII
Babyyyyyyy
Plz don’t kill Essek
Essek nooooo
Oh thank god
Not my other BOYYYY
Okay okay oKAY GOOD
HOW is there still an hour and a half to go
Stop trying to kill my BOY
Babyyyy D:
Hey Matt why don’t you tell us what Essek saw
Did he see Caleb reaching out for him
Did he Matt
Did he
FUCK NOT AGAIN
CALEB NOOOO
God dammit
Fucking fuck
NO
he’s DEAD
fucking hell
Essek get back to your man
Of course they can’t see him
Not that it matters because he’s dead
Fucking fuuuuuck
End this fight already I hate this
Come on Laura roll really good
YES
GO LAURA
GO JESTER
YAAAAAAAAAS
Y’all I literally shrieked
Holy shit y’all
Hoooolllyyyyy shit
Oh that’s both spooky and soft
Oh good the eyes are going too I’m glad
Bring him BACK
I’m begging
Revivify
Please oh gods please
(Essek please stand there in the background anxious)
Please god y’all can’t kill Liam’s character at the end of BOTH campaigns
God I was CONVINCED he was going to be perma-dead
“Insight check” I’m laughing through my tears
Somebody let Essek hug Caleb or something idk
What the
No way
I’m with Essek and Fjord here
“Once you’re a member of the Mighty Nein you’re in. You should know that by now.” Okay okay okay
Are we really gonna do this omg
Yoooooo go back for the bag!
Oh no
RIP the bag of holding
Fjord’s priorities are in the right place *nod*
Gonna have to have a one shot to find the lost U’kotoa eye I guess
NAT20 whoopWHOOP
Awww Fjorjester huuuuug they’re so wholesome
I honestly don’t know how I feel about this
Oh my godddddddd
What
Was it a 9???
What was it??
OH NO
A NAT1?? oh jeeze
That
That hurts
To have lost him a second time, basically
Ouch…
Essek now is not the time to be jealous, love
Fjord checking up on my boy
E: “It’s not fair. It’s not fair, you’ve all come so far. It’s just not fair.”
F: “It rarely is. You did more for us and for him than most anyone we know
“I spent my entire life studying with the intent to not let things like this happen to chance. That can’t be it, can it?”
F: “I don’t know, but if you ere to ask my wife friend Cad he’d tell you that life continues on. It changes, it elopes, it grows. I don’t think there’s an end…” couldn’t follow the rest but I’m crying a LOT
“You’ve shown me all I need to see” THANK YOU FJORD im crying so hard y’all
“Caleb Widowgast. Have you ever accepted defeat?”
“Hm. Maybe today for the first time. Or, well, a chance in direction anyway.”
Essek wants to help so bad y’all I’m cryin’
Oh dang Cad
HOLY
oh my god
02%
WILD
MOM
???
“Put it back. I think they’ve earned it. Put it back.”
Oh my goddddd
I feel better knowing it’s Taliesin’s choice
I’m gonna CRY
Oh
My GODDDSS
“I can’t deal with the emotional whiplash” GIRL SAME
“Your eyes open for the first time”
Holy
FUCK
“Bolts up and runs”
Oh my god y’all
Oh
My god
GROUP HUG HIM
Molly
Mollymauk
MOLLYMAUK
TEALEAF
not empty not empty no
Babyyyy
Fuck y’all I’m gonna cry
I’m gonna cry for real
I didn’t think I’d really be so happy to have him back
Holy SHIT y’all
Yeeeeees hug your man Caleb
This is so emotional I’m crying
“Empty” no baby
I’m so glad it wasn’t at the cost of us losing Caduceus
I love Cad so much
“I’m so tired”
“I think you have a bright future ahead of you”
I’m crying over everyone being so sweet to Essek <3
“You’re always welcome at my house”
Y’all I’m gonna BAWL next week
Literally gonna just weep for however many hours it lasts
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We are not alone in the dark with our demons, Chapter 11
In which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, and learns to be a person and protect those who have been hurt like he has.
Content warnings: Caleb's backstory, mentions of abuse from teachers, discussions of institutionalisation, implied medical abuse
Chapter summary: Caleb was hurting, but he wasn't the only one. If he could do nothing else, he could care for his friends, and they could care for him.
Chapter notes: Kirschtorte is just Black Forest Cake with the geographic reference removed because Zemnian. Chapter title is from Neptune by Sleeping At Last
Chapter 11: If brokenness is a work of art surely this must be my masterpiece
Dinner was a solemn affair, no matter how much Caduceus and Yasha tried to provide comfort in the food they made. The spiced, fried bugs that Yasha had convinced them all to try were actually very good. And they hadn’t made apple tarts today--Jester would have been furious if they’d tried it in her absence--but they made a different Zemnian dessert instead: Kirschtorte. Layers of chocolate sponge sandwiched with whipped cream, sour cherries and a cherry liqueur unique to the Zemni Fields, with a few cherries placed on top.
It tasted so much like home that Caleb stopped eating, folded his arms on the table, rested his head on them, and cried. He had been too tired to excuse himself.
“Was the cake that bad?” Yasha half-whispered.
“No,” Beauregard said thickly. “It’s good, babe. I don’t think that’s… I think it’s been a long day. Long two days.”
Essek rubbed slow circles into Caleb’s back, but the group let him cry without disturbing him. Caduceus handed him a glass of water when he was finished. Caleb did not miss Beauregard twisting away from him to wipe her eyes. And Caleb was struck by another wave of emotion, grief at how much Beauregard was hurting, that almost brought him to tears all over again.
After dinner, Essek helped Caduceus and Yasha with the dishes. They hadn’t let Caleb or Beauregard help tonight. Caleb caught Beauregard as she left the kitchen, and guided her to the couch. They sat together, quietly at first. Sometimes Caleb felt so many things that it seemed impossible to put them into words. But he couldn’t leave things like this; she had gotten involved because of him. She’d run into a burning house with him, she’d watched Felix so Caduceus could help him try to save the Baumanns, she’d spent a day and night watching over Nico in the same state she knew Caleb himself had once been in. Eleven years in Vergesson, broken under the weight of what he had done to his mother and father. She knew all that. She knew more than almost anyone what he had gone through; she had listened to his story and written it down so they could stop Trent from hurting anyone else, and give Caleb just a little shred of peace. She cared about Caleb. She cared about people like him. And she had also been abused by a powerful man.
And they’d had the chance to help Nico in a way neither of them had been helped when they most needed it (and what help they had received only came years after the damage was done). Then, all their efforts to help Nico had failed. She’d mobilised the monks and done her best to find him, and had come up empty just like Caleb had.
She was hurting, too.
Caleb took her hand in both of his and, feeling awkward about it, kissed her knuckles. Beauregard looked at him strangely.
“Uh, Caleb? You’re being weird.”
“You’re a good friend, Beauregard.” Caleb patted her hand, setting it down on her leg.
“Oh, we’re gonna have one of those talks.”
Caleb’s track record for emotional conversations with Beauregard was, for the most part, horrifying. They were both awkward people who sometimes understood each other well, and other times couldn’t understand each other at all. He had, on more than one occasion, stormed away from a conversation silently screaming.
“Beauregard…” He sighed. Caleb was running on sheer willpower, emotionally bruised and given to cry at a moment’s notice. But he wanted her to know how much he appreciated her, and how sorry he was for her pain. “Thank you.”
“Caleb, we’ve been over this. You don’t need to say this shit.”
“I do, though.” Caleb hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so small. So fragile. But he… Caleb needed her to hear this.
She looked away. “Sorry. I just… you’re going through a lot of shit, and I don’t want you to feel, like, obligated…” She trailed off, staring at the colourful, jewel-toned rug Jester had brought from Nicodranas.
“This is not easy for you, either,” Caleb said, and Beauregard sagged against the couch, looking at him like he had grown another head.
“Caleb, what the fuck?”
“You are a caring person, Beauregard. And you know better than most what those children have been through. You listened to my story and wrote it down for me. You stood with me while I faced Trent in the courtroom and recounted, again, everything he had done to me.” Caleb didn’t know where he found the strength to speak, to build up the steam he needed to spill out all his feelings, but he did it because Beauregard needed to know. For both their sakes. “You and Veth were the first people I ever told. You are… invested. You care. You are kind and good. I need you to know that I am grateful for everything you have done for me, and for people like me.”
“Caleb, I know you’re grateful,” Beauregard said, with that same tired frustration she often had when he was being emotionally obtuse. “You’re also a fucking wreck and need to stop wasting your time on me.”
“I am not wasting anything,” Caleb said. He had to fight down his frustration. Neither of them were comfortable having this kind of focus on them, and she was trying to be a good friend. “That is not all I wanted to say. I want you to know… I see you.” Caleb wasn’t great at eye contact, but he made a special effort now, locking eyes with Beauregard and hoping she got it. Hoping she understood he knew she was suffering, and that it mattered to him.
“Hard not to, man. I’m pretty hot.”
“I’m glad you know that about yourself.” It would have been easy to let her deflect, but Caleb steeled himself to drag this conversation where he intended it to go. “But that is not what I meant. You know that.”
Beauregard averted her eyes once again.
“Yesterday was hard. Today was hard. For all of us. And you…” Caleb reached for her hand, relieved that she let him hold it. “You have been abused as well. And yet, you ran into a burning house with me. You saw Nico unresponsive in Wulf’s arms, knowing I was once like that, too. You watched over Felix while Caduceus and I tried to save Nico’s parents. Then, you watched over Nico and had to witness what I was going through that day, and that night. You have seen me in a bad place before, and that was the worst I have been in a long time, and I know it was confronting for all of you. And you did everything you could to keep Nico from running, and you were there when it all fell apart. I know you are hurt, Beauregard. And you are allowed to be. Please allow that for yourself.”
She squeezed his hand, and some of her guardedness fell away to reveal the sheer depths of sadness in her eyes. “I love you, man.”
“I love you, too, Beauregard. Thank you, and I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”
“I know. You are a good person. I am sorry for your pain, because I am your friend.”
Beauregard clasped his hand in both of hers, staring down at the tangle of fingers. “I’m worried about you, Caleb. And about the kids. But I can do something about you, at least.”
“You have done a lot already, Beauregard. Thank you.” He tugged her by the hand until she shuffled close enough that he could throw his arms around her and drag her into the tightest hug he could manage. She squeezed him back, and his spine cracked a little in a way he didn’t know he had needed on both a physical and emotional level until relief flooded through his system.
****
Caduceus stayed overnight in case he was needed, and Essek dropped him back at the Grove the following morning.
“Call me any time,” Caduceus had said as his parting words. “Whatever you need, even if it’s in the middle of the night, I’ll be ready.”
The Volstrucker and the monks continued searching for Nico, and Caleb was at a loose end. So he launched himself into preparing for the upcoming semester, his first as a teacher. He split his time at home between his study in the dormer, the floor of Beau and Yasha’s living room, and occasionally the Cobalt Soul Archives while Beau was working, depending on how much his need for privacy warred with his need to have his loved ones close at hand.
Essek stayed. Caleb stewed in silent guilt whenever he let himself think about it too much, but he knew better than to ask Essek to leave when the man was clearly worried about him. More often than not, Caleb left the house with his hair braided, whether it was a single braid at the back or, Essek’s favourite, two narrow braids tucked into a half or full ponytail. Sometimes it felt like Caleb’s mental health hinged entirely on the presence of a braid.
Caleb sent daily messages to Felix and Nico. For Felix, it was simple to find a routine. A question about his day, little tidbits about a spell the boy had indicated an interest in, updates on the search for Nico, and whether either of them had received responses from him (the answer, thus far, was no). He didn’t push Felix for an answer about school. Not yet.
For Nico, Caleb weighed his words far more carefully.
On one day: “Hallo, Nico. It’s Caleb. How are you? I am working from home today. You are welcome here any time.”
A few hours after that: “Hallo, Nico. Caleb again. I just wanted to say: I know how you are feeling. I went through this as well. You’re in my thoughts.”
Another day: “Hallo, Nico. Me again. Are you safe? It’s cold out. Remember to drink water. Boil it first if necessary.”
And another: “Hallo, Nico. I am a teacher at the Academy now. I intend to watch these fuckers like a hawk. Keep the kids safe, ja?”
He burned a second spell for that one: “We deserved better. I will make sure the children who come after us get it. And you… come back when you’re ready. Let me help.”
And countless other messages, little updates about his day, about Felix, about work, about just… coming back in one piece.
And he did not receive a single response. Caleb cried more often than not after going through this. He preferred to be alone in his study in those moments, and the others had learned not to disturb him until he was ready to be around people again.
Overall, he felt he had been pretty good about it. He kept busy, spent time with his friends, let Essek hover around him and take care of him. Caleb let Essek help with his lesson plans, bounce around ideas for a presentation he would have to make in the first week of semester as a new teacher at the Academy. He had already told the Nein they were invited, and had spoken to Astrid to make sure the non-citizens would be welcome.
He also remembered to invite Nico, on the off-chance the boy needed a specific call to action to return to Rexxentrum.
“Hallo, Nico. I am presenting a talk next week at the Academy on the first day of semester. 7 o’clock. You would be welcome.”
Caleb met regularly with Bettina and Alphira to work on their lesson plans together. He spent most of that time with Bettina, given he would literally be taking over one of her classes. He was mostly assisting Alphira, though she was interested to get him in to talk to the senior Evocation students at some point about his experiences with the Sending spell. Including the funny ones with Jester. There was also an interesting discussion to be had about why Sending was considered an Evocation spell while Message was considered a Transmutation cantrip. Both professors spoke carefully in a way that suggested they knew what had happened with Felix and Nico, but they never brought it up. He was relieved they let him keep his academic work separate from that heartbreaking shitshow.
Between work, Caleb found time to catch up with Astrid and Wulf. He pretended not to notice their visible relief whenever they saw him, because he was genuinely unsure what they would do if he brought it up.
At a certain point, meeting in Astrid’s office brought up too many memories, so they moved their meetings to the dance hall. Beauregard, Yasha and even a disguised Essek had “accidentally” wandered in on more than one occasion.
“Are you still talking to Felix?” Astrid asked him as the three of them sat around a table in the farthest corner of the room from the dance floor.
“Ja, he doesn’t tell me everything, but he responds at least.”
“Still nothing from Nico?”
Caleb didn’t need to say it out loud; he couldn’t school his expression to hide the pain there. And Astrid and Wulf had once known him very well.
Astrid reached out, touched the back of his hand where it rested on the table beside his mug of ale. “I’m sorry, Bren.”
Wulf had his eye on Yasha, who was calmly drinking at the bar. “Astrid’s people are still looking for him.”
Caleb did his best to shrug off the hurt. “I know.”
Astrid squeezed his hand once and then retreated. “Now, about your lesson plans…”
She had been teaching for a while, so Astrid had plenty of advice to give. However, she was also hesitant to steer Caleb too much.
“You have good instincts,” she told him every time they spoke about it. “Trust them.”
On their way out of the dance hall, where they had sat for a good three hours, Astrid caught Caleb’s arm.
“One more thing. I have secured a venue at the Academy for the support group, mid-week. I have contacted most of the Volstrucker. We are ready to go ahead when you are.”
“Astrid, the point of this is not for one person to steer it.”
Astrid raised an eyebrow at him. “Bren, we need a dedicated person to drive this. And that person is you.”
The thought of that was frightening. Caleb was barely figuring out how to be a person himself, let alone be responsible for the healing of dozens of people who had been under Trent’s thumb for far longer than he had.
“Astrid.”
“I am not expecting you to have all the answers for them,” she said firmly. “But you have had more time to process than the rest of us have.” She gave a small, wry chuckle. “In fact, you may be the most stable of us all.”
“Astrid, that is horrifying.”
“She’s right,” said Wulf. “Besides, you have a way with people. Always have.”
Caleb was not like Fjord or Jester or Caduceus who always seemed to have something to say when someone was hurting, but he could talk when he had to. He feared some of the Volstrucker would not take him seriously because he had broken, or because he had gotten out long before they had. This would take time. Fortunately, Caleb was one of the few Empire wizards with in-depth knowledge of time, learned from a reliable source.
Astrid still held his arm. She slid down to grip his hand instead. “I know this will not be easy for you. You were always sensitive. But that is why you have a chance with these people. They are not…” She sighed. “Trent made sure we don’t know how to exist in a world without his boot on our throats.”
“We don’t know how to process our emotions,” Wulf said, and it was odd to hear him admit it aloud. “Well, most of us. You do all right.”
Caleb laughed at that, because it sounded like a horrible joke. Caleb, who felt so constantly bruised on the inside that even the slightest inconvenience threatened to send him into tears. Who still woke up gasping in the night. Who was so choked by pain sometimes that words left him. Processing his emotions? It was more likely that his emotions processed him. Like a fucking meatgrinder.
Astrid frowned at him. “Let’s take a walk. Just the three of us.” She glanced back at the door, where Yasha was visible. “If your shadow will allow it.”
“My shadow does what she likes,” Caleb muttered, letting Astrid tug him along. Wulf took his other hand, leaving him little choice to let the two of them take him where they willed.
They wound up in a small park they had used to visit regularly, especially when drunk after a night of dancing. It was strange to see it in daylight, and while Caleb was mostly sober. They sat on the grass beside a small ornamental pond, Astrid and Wulf pointedly bookending Caleb, sitting close enough for their shoulders to touch. The wind played with the strands of Caleb’s hair that had fallen out of his braid. He never bothered to fix them because Essek found it endearing.
“I apologise,” said Astrid. “I did not mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset, Astrid.” At her doubtful noise, he added, “Not at you.”
“You should get out of Rexxentrum,” she said abruptly. “Just for a few days. We have things well in hand. Your lesson plans are solid. Bettina and Alphira are pleased. You do not need to be here until next week.”
“And if Nico comes back?”
“You will be contacted. I promise.” Astrid looked to Wulf, who shrugged at her, which caused her to roll her eyes. “Jester keeps pestering me to make you visit Nicodranas.”
Caleb had been messaging with Jester regularly, and she had hinted that he should visit, but she was usually a lot more explicit when she wanted to see him. And he knew she was talking to Yasha, Beau and Essek, but none of them had said much about it.
It was odd. “Is there a reason she is pestering you and not the people I literally live with?”
Astrid shrugged. “I may have let a few things slip.”
“Astrid, you do not ‘let things slip.’”
She looked utterly unashamed. “Well, apparently you had not told some of your dearest friends you are going through a rough patch, so I did it for you.”
“In how much detail, exactly?” Caleb did not like to be angry with his friends, especially Astrid, but he needed to work out how much of a problem he needed to have with her.
“Very little, just enough that she knows you are not at your best. I would not rob you of that agency.”
That last part hit Caleb harder than he could have expected. “I… thank you.”
Caleb had to admit he missed his friends terribly. Especially Veth, who of all the Nein had seen him at his worst, helped him put the pieces of his brain together on the days he collapsed, who had cuddled up to him on bad days, who had been the first friend he’d had in many years. And Jester, who knew how to ruin a dark mood. Fjord, with his quiet understanding. Kingsley with his… Kingsleyness that was a little painfully close to Molly sometimes but more than welcome.
He always knew they would be worried sick if he told them even a fraction of what had happened in the last few days. Seeing the pain he brought to Caduceus, Yasha, Beau and Essek was hard enough. But they loved him. Those who did not know what had happened would want to know, so they could help.
And he was touched that Astrid and Wulf had taken the time to sit him down and discuss this with him. He didn’t know what they were now. Maybe he never would. Maybe they were friends again. They had all changed so much, Caleb especially, that it was hard to say if they could even be friends. But Caleb wanted it. He wanted it a lot.
“I suppose I can spare a day or two,” he finally said. It would be good for Essek to get out of Rexxentrum, too. Maybe he could drag Beau and Yasha out for a bit, even if Beau had obligations at the Archive.
Wulf and Astrid looked at each other in a knowing way he had not seen from them in seventeen years. The familiarity was strange, and a little uncomfortable, but also comforting at the same time. He had spent so much time emphasising how much he still cared for them, doing his best to drag them away from Trent, and then gently guiding them through sharing their trauma to put Trent away for good. But he had never forgotten that for such a long time, they were the ones looking out for him and protecting him. He had done the same for them, of course, but there had often been an unspoken understanding that Caleb was just a little bit squishy, needed just a little extra care.
Caleb was also keenly aware that sometimes it was easier to care for someone else than to care for yourself.
Wulf’s large hand found Caleb’s knee. “Good. Say hi to Fjord for me.”
“Tell him yourself,” Caleb muttered, because he knew Wulf would find it more funny than offensive.
Wulf chuckled and squeezed his knee. “Oh, and warn your boyfriend: if he hurts you, I will cut off his balls.”
“You will have to beat me there,” said Astrid.
Okay, this conversation had taken so many twists and turns that Caleb had half a mind to visit the Grove and ask Caduceus to check him for whiplash. Unsurprising, really. Things were complicated between the three of them and likely would be for a very long time.
He wasn’t sure what to say about the fact his exes were on the cusp of threatening his current partner, and not in the way one might expect. Caleb found himself fiddling with the end of his braid while he tried to process what the fuck was happening to him.
Finally, he said, “There are a great many people who would fuck him up if he ever put a foot wrong with me, and he himself is first in line. You need not worry about that. Thank you for your… concern?”
Astrid and Wulf shared another look, much more pained than the last. Then they both looked away, Astrid into the grass and Wulf at the pond.
“He treats you well?” she said quietly.
“Ja, very well. He came back to take care of me.” Caleb had no words for the depths of his gratitude towards Essek. He was always gentle with Caleb, sensitive to his needs. And these last few days, he had been nothing but a source of endless love and support, a soft place to land when Caleb felt like he was in freefall. He always offered this, but every protective and caring instinct in Essek had been cranked upward, like casting an old, reliable third-level spell at eighth level instead. Or ninth, though Caleb and Essek were not quite to that level of magical skill yet.
“Good,” Wulf muttered. “You play with your braid when you talk about him.”
Caleb chuckled, not even embarrassed he had been caught with such an obvious tell. “Ja, he likes to braid my hair for me.”
“Hard to hate a man who braids his partner’s hair.” Wulf’s voice was almost wistful; Caleb’s hair had never been long enough to braid when the three of them were together, but they had occasionally been able to get a small one into Astrid’s hair.
“Good. Don’t.”
Astrid’s hand found Caleb’s other knee. “You’ve been through a lot, even in the past few days alone. And… we know you are capable. You have the willpower and the support you need to get through all of this, and to guide the Volstrucker who agree to attend the support group. But we do worry for you. And we are… glad… you have people in your life who take care of you.” Once again, she could not look at him. “Wulf and I… we are sorry we failed you.”
That was a new one. “Astrid, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“Greater Restoration,” Wulf said quietly.
“If we had found the nerve to talk to a cleric ourselves,” added Astrid, “we could have gotten you out of there years ago.”
Right. Vergesson. “Trent wouldn’t have allowed it. You know that.”
“We could have tried.”
They had been teenagers. Frightened, grieving teenagers at the mercy of a powerful man. Of all the things Caleb could have held against Astrid and Eadwulf, this would never be one of them.
“You could have gotten us all killed,” Caleb said, forcing steel into his tone in the hope it would break whatever spiral Astrid and Wulf had worked themselves into. “You didn’t know that Greater Restoration would have done shit for me. Why would you? That is not the skillset Trent cultivated in us. He taught us how to hurt people, because we were to be his weapons. He had us murder our own fucking parents because all he wanted us to know was violence and pain and fear and utter reliance on him alone. You do not need to apologise for not taking on a fool’s errand.”
They refused to look at him once again. Jaws clenched. Eyes wild and staring holes into the ground.
“We were children,” Caleb reminded them, squeezing their hands where they remained on his knees. “We were children. Of all the things we have done or not done, that is the last thing I will ever let you apologise for. Do not hurt yourselves, hurt me, like this. Please.”
Astrid’s free hand pressed over her mouth, catching a sob. Wulf’s thumb drew a slow circle on Caleb’s knee.
“You’re right,” Wulf said quietly. “It would have been foolish. But we…”
“We were cowards,” Astrid snapped. “We left you there for eleven years. Trent made sure you were cared for, but… it was Vergesson. And you were defenceless.”
“I am well aware,” Caleb said before she could pull up memories that were far too painful for any of them. “I have told you before that I remember little of my time there. I would prefer it remain that way, I think.” Caleb wasn’t sure he could survive remembering that place beyond the flashes of awful that would sometimes come to him.
“I’m sorry, Bren. I’m sorry.”
“Shhhh. Enough of that.”
Astrid cleared her throat, straightened up. Evidently she had remembered they were technically in a public place.
“Do us a favour,” said Wulf. “Go to Nicodranas. Get some rest.”
“I will, if the two of you will also do me a favour.”
Astrid, newly composed, raised an eyebrow at him. “What is this favour?”
“Try to hate yourselves a little less. Hypocritical coming from me, but I think we could all stand to be kinder to ourselves.” Caleb had said almost those exact words to Essek in the Blooming Grove all those months ago, and he was struck by how much he had a type.
“All right,” she said, smiling with so much affection that Caleb was taken back to their first kiss in a freezing cold tower. “You first.”
They parted ways not long afterwards, and Yasha melted out of the shadows to walk Caleb home.
“That looked very intense,” she said, leading him by the hand like he was a small child bound to get lost in a big city. “Are you okay?”
“I think so. Think you can convince Beauregard to visit Nicodranas for a bit?”
Yasha chuckled. “I think I can manage.”
****
Making arrangements for Nicodranas kept Caleb from stewing too much in his talk with Astrid and Wulf. That was welcome. He appreciated the care they still had for him, but there were some things that were still too painful and probably always would be. He had already messaged Jester to confirm the Nein Heroez would be in dock at the time.
“Of course, Caleb! Did Astrid talk to you? She’s super nice, and she really cares about you a lot. I’m sorry I was mean to--” The message cut off at twenty-five words; Jester’s word economy, or lack thereof, would always be a source of joy even on a bad day.
Essek, mercifully, had messaged Veth for him; she would hear the exhaustion in Caleb’s voice and worry herself into a panic.
Despite the flurry of activity, Caleb still found himself occasionally caught, freezing in the act of folding a shirt or cataloguing his spell components. And he’d remember how much the two visits to Vergesson he had made since his escape had rattled him. The few memories he had were bad enough, and he knew so much of the pain the place brought him was buried in his subconscious. Or in moments that his body seemed to remember but his mind didn’t.
The bloodbath he’d caused while on the amulet heist. So on edge that he had forgotten a crucial detail about the Wall of Force spell until he had expended all his spells that he could have used to disintegrate it. Caleb did not forget things like that. Until he did, apparently. And then there had been his complete inability to do anything but fight when Trent had appeared suddenly, temporarily thwarting their escape. He’d fallen back on his training. Always his training. And the violence it entailed.
While part of him was a tiniest bit curious what had happened during those eleven years, if nothing else to further catalogue Trent’s sins on the public record and dig up his accomplices, most of him hoped he never found out.
As he stood a little too long in these thoughts, a pair of dusky purple hands lifted Caleb’s component pouch from his shaking grip, setting it aside. Essek sat Caleb on the end of the bed and wordlessly climbed behind him, knees gently pressing Caleb’s hips as he pulled the braid loose and began it anew. The gentle tugging motions slowly pulled Caleb back into his body, and the present.
Essek finished off the braid and kissed Caleb’s neck. “Do you want to talk about it?”
More like Caleb needed to talk about it before he imploded. “Astrid and Wulf apologised for not getting me out of Vergesson themselves. And… I think they know some parts of what happened to me there. Things I don’t remember. Things I don’t want to remember. Things I might know subconsciously that I don’t think I can handle knowing consciously. I’m just… out of sorts, I suppose.”
Essek slid his arms around Caleb’s chest, pressing himself up against his back, squishing their cheeks together. “I would like to turn them into spaghetti for making you think about this when you have enough to worry about, but you would be upset with me.”
“I’m not angry with them.”
“I know.” Essek kissed his cheek, nuzzling Caleb’s stubble.
“Vergesson is… I do not like the person I became when I was last there. I don’t think I could survive remembering what happened to me.”
“Then don’t try to remember.” Essek flattened his palm over Caleb’s heart and gently pressed down, forcing Caleb to focus more on his breathing. Remembering that his heart still beat. He was here.
More immediate, practical thoughts began to filter back into Caleb’s mind. He remembered he was going to Send to Caduceus and invite him to Nicodranas. Caduceus would hear the rough edges in Caleb’s voice, but he could handle it far better than most of the Nein.
“Hallo, Caduceus. It’s Caleb. We are visiting Nicodranas for a few days tomorrow. Would you like to come? We can pick you up in the morning.”
There was a slight pause, and then Caduceus’s warm, soothing tone filled Caleb’s mind. “Hey, Caleb. That sounds great. I’ll be ready, with fresh tea for everyone. And sunhats. You and Essek will burn in the sun.”
“Caduceus is in,” Caleb said, stifling a yawn. Essek laughed softly, his breath tickling Caleb’s neck. “Now for Yussa.” He cast again, directing a message to Wensforth. “Hallo, it’s Caleb of the Mighty Nein. We are visiting Nicodranas tomorrow. May we use the circle? It would be good to see you both.”
Wensforth replied quickly. “Yes, of course! The master is eager to speak with you at any time. Please… message before you arrive?”
Caleb let himself laugh a little. The Nein were notoriously awful at warning people of their arrival. And Caleb was touched that Yussa, ever a busy man, thought so highly of them now that he would happily drop everything to talk to them. They had spoken a few times since Cognouza, and if Yussa had been a less restrained man, Caleb had the strong impression he would’ve hugged each and every one of the Nein in gratitude for saving him.
And, to think, Caleb had once been so frightened of him that he could barely speak.
He felt better, so he got up and finished sorting his spell components, making a note that he would need to restock his teleportation circle chalk after a few more uses.
Caleb helped Yasha cook Eintopf that evening, a one-pot stew. Caleb had grown up eating dozens of versions of the stew, but he had his favourites. Carrots, leeks and celeriac were key to the base of the soup, as they were preparing their own broth. Along with a bunch of parsley. Yasha had found some excellent pork sausages at the market today, so those went in along with green beans (Caleb’s sentimental favourite), potatoes, and a ton of onion. Lots of garlic. Yasha had also found marjoram at the market today.
This was a recipe Caleb had helped his mother cook even as a boy, so he also insisted they add apple like she always had. For a little bit of sweetness and acidity. And surprise.
Caleb cleaned and steamed the beans while Yasha browned the meat and onions and potatoes and garlic. From there, they tag-teamed to get everything bubbling away until it was all finally ready to put into a pot and simmer away to completion.
It was a good use of the evening, and it kept Caleb busy and enveloped in happy sensory memories of his mother’s kitchen. While the stew bubbled away, he munched on a few green beans he’d set aside for the fun of it after they had steamed.
Essek hovered in the corner, reading a book about sea creatures Jester had brought him last time she was in town. Caleb pulled out his lesson plans and speech preparation, spreading it out across the dinner table, and made edits into the evening.
Beauregard arrived home from work--Yasha had visited her already to persuade her to come with them to Nicodranas. And then they ate dinner together at the table, and the taste of home did not send Caleb into a grief spiral tonight. This time, it just soothed him.
Before bed, Caleb sent one last message: “Hallo, Nico. It’s Caleb. I will be in Nicodranas for a few days. If you need shelter and the house is empty, take the key--” He cast again. “From inside the flowerpot on the right side of the house. I have an illusion set to guide you. Password: Wilkommen. Gute nacht.”
No response, but Caleb hadn’t expected one. He let Essek tuck him into bed. They curled up together, Essek slowly but firmly stroking his back with grounding pressure, until Caleb fell asleep.
#caleb widogast#professor widogast#shadowgast#essek thelyss#astrid beck#eadwulf grieve#blumendrei#blumentrio#critical role#cr2#beauregard lionett#yasha nydoorin#my fics#fanfiction#the pomegranate's professor widogast fic
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Caleb woke to the pressure of Mollymauk sleeping on his chest. There was a small beam of light leaked through the curtain. Frumpkin sat on the bed, next to them, purring loudly enough to shake the bed. Molly groaned in displeasure at being awoken early. Caleb reached up and pet Frumpkin. Molly chirped and snuggled closer to Caleb.
"Good morning, Mollymauk."
"Hello Mr Caleb."
A peaceful moment between the two passed. Molly pulled away and stretched. Even from behind Caleb could see the scar from the attack on the boat. Compared to the other scars the new one was comparatively small, only about as long as the top of Caleb thumb to the knuckle. It also healed even with the skin instead of raised above the skin like the rest of them. Caleb gently placed a finger on it.
"It's healed Mr. Caleb." Molly whispered. Caleb pulled away. Molly pulled I his shirt and boots, finishing getting dressed. "Let's see if the inn has breakfast yet." Molly walked to their door, opening it to find himself face to face with Fjord.
"You're up early." Molly said with a smile on his face.
"It's actually late for you two. We wanted to check to see if we missed you." Fjord rubbed the back of his neck. The queen's shadowhand is with us. They have found the last relic; I think the two of you should hear this."
Caleb stood up and stuck his head out of the door. "Just give me a minute, don't wait up for me Mollymauk," Caleb slipped back into the room as Molly walked out.
The two of them walked towards the others.
"What's the catch with the relic?" Molly asked when they were out off earshot.
Fjord took a deep breath. "It's in the care of someone who attacked us."
"Who?"
"Molls..."
"Who has it?"
"Ikithon."
"The whole time?!" Molly ran his fingers through his hair. "When we convinced the king to do the negotiations, he acted like the relics were a new thing."
"He's a liar. He'll say whatever it takes to smooth over a situation while benefiting in ways that people cannot imagine at first." Caleb spoke up, surprising the two of them.
"And if we call him out publicly the war might start back up again." Molly hissed.
"But we could probably convince him to relinquish it, provided its no longer useful to him." Caleb said.
"We can discuss this with the rest of the group." Fjord placed a hand on Caleb's back, leading them tho the group.
The conversation was full of arguments. The group wanted to fight, attack Ikithon, but Caleb was hesitant.
"You saw what he did to Molly. We can't just run in and attack where he has the advantage."
Molly rubbed the back of his head. "It's true. We need to either take him where he had no advantage or get rid of the advantage in the first place."
"Doesn't that mean the same thing?" Jester asked.
"On the surface, but they translate to different strategies. Taking him to a place where he had no advantages doesn't do sea at with any that he does have, and does nothing do his hold on the empire. We might make him a martyr. Getting rid of his advantages exposes him for weeks at he is, and we make allies trying to take him down." Caleb spoke up. "The latter is more difficult, but it's better for all of us."
"So we need to discredit him?" Jester asked.
"The queen doesn't care how ours do one but the relic needs to be returned" Essek gritted his teeth. "I am here to assist you. I can help with your goal regarding this man, but the relic is the main priority."
"We'll get it done." Yasha looked at Essek with a glare. "But we'll do it our way."
"I do not care, but know it must be dealt with."
Caduceus raised an eyebrow at Essek but remained silent.
"I can teleport us to Rexxentrum, and we can start there." Essek volunteered.
The group nodded and took fifteen minutes to pack. They met up behind the inn when Essek was finishing up sketching his spell.
"Let's go." Caleb sighed, tense and shaking. Molly grabbed his hand and squeezed. Essek nodded and a flash of bright light overwhelmed their senses.
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Labor of Love Chapter 3: A Critical Role Fanfic
Alright everyone, I’m back again with another chapter of Labor of Love...my longest chapter yet, but mostly for plot reasons. There were definitely some moving parts I had to arrange. Thank you again, to everyone who has been so supportive about this fic! Your comments, likes, kudos, and reblogs have given me all the life.
Enjoy!
Read on AO3
Read Ch1 and Ch 2 on Tumblr
Preview:
Essek took another sip of his tea as he gazed out the expansive windows of the Towers...the apartment building he lived in that was considered one of the nicer rental properties. Essek lived in a loft apartment, a spacious and airy abode-if not a little cold and impersonal. Essek usually didn’t mind that, seeing as he really only came home to eat and sleep and little else besides putting his stuff somewhere. (He did have a nice walk-in closet that he kept organized by color and style that he was exceedingly proud of, but that was neither here nor there.) Any apartment would have been fine, but what had attracted him to this place were the windows...large and taking up the wall almost completely. It gave him the view of the busy city that never slept in the eternal night, the buildings still bustling with activity, the cars that glided and moved like they were alive, the subway car that would always appear and roll across tracks from the depths only to disappear once more. Usually there was something soothing about being able to sit at his kitchen island with a mug of something warm and just...gaze outside. But that night, he felt chilled, and was determined to hold his mug just a little tighter to leech the warmth into his fingertips.
Essek was just getting settled when his phone vibrated. Essek looked at it, saw the person who was calling him and frowned.
"What?" Essek asked, as he raised the phone to his ear.
"Let me in please."
Essek sighed and went to press the buzzer. It took a minute or two before there was a knock at Essek's door, and Verin appeared in his apartment. He was carrying a duffle bag, because of course he was and was still wearing his police uniform. Essek scowled at the sight and cringed as Verin haphazardly threw the duffle bag by his glass coffee table.
"This is not a bed and breakfast," Essek told him shortly, leaning against the wall by the door. Verin stopped and seemed to actually look at him for the first time since arriving.
"What? Were you expecting somebody?" Verin asked, sounding surprised and Essek looked down at his own outfit. He was wearing a pair of joggers and a crop top he wouldn't have anyone catch him dead in...though he didn’t care about Verin. Verin registered to Essek somewhere on the scale between ant and worm. Regardless, Essek still felt his face twist.
"Do I look like I'm expecting someone?" Essek asked exasperatedly, raising his mug to his lips again and taking a sip. It was supposed to be some soothing blend that was popular, but Essek as usual found it flat and tasteless. It was really just the warmth he was after...as well as just something to fill the time.
"I don't know what your girlfriend likes."
"Shows what you know about me," Essek snorted into the steam, hoping the scent of green tea would soothe him...it didn’t. "I was just having some time to myself...alone."
"You mean, like always?"
"Verin, seriously, what did you need besides daring me to murder you?" Essek asked, leveling a glare at his brother.
"I've been working for like, 48 hours straight. I just need a shower and maybe an hour or two to trance. I'm begging you here."
"You mean working on the thing I'm telling you not to bother with?"
"Yes, that. It's important."
"Go home then."
"I have to drive like, 45 minutes to an hour with traffic. Come on."
"Your girlfriend must not be happy with you," Essek observed with a sniff as he perched up on a stool by his island once more. Verin sighed deeply, palming the back of his neck awkwardly.
"No...she's not. So please, Essek?"
"Fine, just be quick about it."
"Thank you," Verin breathed out, obviously relieved before walking off to the small side hallway.
"Second door on the right!" Essek called after him.
"Got it!"
Essek sat there now, taking vengeful gulps from his mug. Girlfriend, he thought to himself, what a joke. But now that he was thinking about it, Quana had said something similar the day before yesterday. He hadn't ever "come out" to anyone as it were. Essek didn't really see the point in that mental exercise. It didn't change anything. After all, Essek hadn't even had a boyfriend before. A few late night fumblings that he hadn't enjoyed, yes. But he had sworn the whole thing off a while ago, it made things neater and more organized. He supposed the other added effect was he was essentially a stranger in everyone's life, but that wasn't a bad thing in his day to day dealings.
Verin appeared again, showered and in sweats, and yanked open Essek's fridge derailing Essek's train of thought completely.
"What did I say about my apartment not being a bed and breakfast?" Essek reminded him with a huff, slamming down his mug. He was probably being dramatic, but this was his apartment. This was his space and Verin was just...rooting around like the little vermin he was. It reminded him of when they used to share a room as children...until Verin had found Essek’s journal and read it out loud to their older sister and Essek cast grease on him. It was one of those rare moments that his mother’s punishment fit the crime. They had been separated after that.
"Holy shit, Essek. You've got like nothing in your fridge," Verin said with a horrified look before yanking open the freezer. "You don't even have pizza rolls."
"Seriously, Verin? I will not desecrate my taste buds with pizza rolls."
"What do you even eat, man?"
"The souls of the innocent. Now if you are going to completely disregard what I said? Fine. Beggars can't be choosers, eat some plums or something," Essek said, lobbing a fruit from the bowl in front of him at Verin's head. He caught it easily. Of course he did. The bastard. "I know you still have Mother hide your fruit in chocolate syrup, but…"
"Oh fuck off Essek," Verin said with a roll of his eyes and taking a bite of the plum. "I'm still doing my thing, by the way. You haven't scared me off."
"If you are here to gloat about your goodness like some kind of Luxon missionary find a hotel room please," Essek said with his chin held high. "I really don't care and I know trying to convince you is an exercise in futility."
"Of course you care, you are the biggest liar I've ever had the misfortune of knowing," Verin said as he leaned against the counter.
"You are right, I care, only because of the head ache it'll cause me in the long run, but I know that you don't care about being reasonable so go ahead. Crash and burn. I give you my permission."
"I don't need your permission," Verin sighed before taking another look at Essek. "How are you, by the way?"
"Fine," Essek answered shortly. "Busy."
"You are always busy, but...are you getting out? At all?"
"No. I'm not. I'm busy."
"Essek...seriously?"
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"I dunno...lie to me and tell me you are doing great?"
"Fine, I'm doing great."
"No, don't do that. That smile creeps me out."
"Good."
"I mean...have you put any thought into dating? At all?"
"Because clearly that's going well for you," Essek said sarcastically. Verin gave him a stern look.
"I know you don't like it, but I do worry about you," Verin said softly, tapping the island thoughtfully. "I hate you most of the time, because you are a bastard. But I do worry about you."
"And it would make you feel better if I dated? How?"
"I dunno...that you would have someone. It doesn't matter who. I don't even know if you have any friends."
"Where is this all coming from?" Essek asked as he blinked at his younger brother.
"Essek...you literally haven't talked to me in months. The last time was Harvest Close. Your call gave me a fucking heart attack."
"Well good, it appears my scheme to kill you and assert my dominance as the better child is all going according to plan."
"You see, the thing about you is I don't know if you are being serious or not so let me just say, if you did kill me, don’t think I wouldn’t haunt you for the rest of your life. And that would be worse because you hate having people around. So really? Just shooting yourself in the foot."
“Verin, eat your damn plum and then go trance.”
“Whatever,” Verin scoffed, but seemed content to do just that as he settled on the couch and lay down. He tossed the decorative blanket Essek had placed just so over his legs with little care, and shut his eyes. Essek massaged his aching temples, before walking over to the light switch and dimming it all the way. He looked out the window, just once more. The cold light of Rosohna continued to shine, regardless of how Essek felt about it.
___
Essek called the bakery the next day.
This was normally how things went. He had to call places and walk the ever treacherous line of being polite but also demanding. After all, no one could turn down Leylas Kryn, but it also had to be kept a serious affair no matter what. The last thing that anyone wanted was for the paparazzi to catch wind of what they were doing and cause a whole ruckus. On the other hand it was also important to note that any business that had Leylas Kryn’s attention would suddenly be in the national spotlight. Spa treatments she did became sensations, unknown fashion designers became national icons, while workouts she commited to became trends. And in this case? Maybe a bakery would be bigger than just a bakery.
He stared at the muffin on his desk. Beauregard had pressed it into his hands that morning with his daily order, rolling her eyes as she said it was on the house. It tempted him, standing as a monument to his weakness. Some secret part of him didn’t want to call...didn’t want to change the thing that had slowly but surely integrated itself into his routine. But he pressed the number into his phone and dialed regardless.
Farewell to his tiny hiding hole, Essek thought as the phone rang. Really it was what they deserved, the least he could do for what a lovely group they were...the least he could do for Caleb. Perhaps it didn’t mean anything for him, Essek was just another face in the crowd...he wasn’t anyone special to him. But Essek could still almost taste sunlight on the tip of his tongue...
The line clicked and connected on the other end.
“Xhorhaus Bakery, this is Veth speaking, how can I help you?” Veth’s shrill voice came over the line.
“Hello, this is Essek Theylss calling from the Xhorhassian Cultural Institute, how are you doing today?” Essek asked with his patent work voice. He heard a pregnant pause on the other side of the line, and a short intake of breath.
“Hello…?” Veth said, sounding very suspicious. “Good? Are we in trouble?”
Essek blinked. Oh. He had never given them his last name, he had only told Jester. Essek wasn’t a super common name, but also wasn’t uncommon either. It was name lifted from the pages of a famous collection of folktales that was housed in the national museum (though he was pretty sure his mother had just opened up a book of names and picked the first one her finger landed on). Essek remembered looking it up as a child; it was derived from either the Undercommon word “eszaph” or “eszak”which meant ”alike” or “worry”. Essek had always thought that “eszak” suited him more. Regardless, there would always be at least one or two other Esseks in a school...though their names were usually spelled “Essik” or “Essic” to mark them as unique and special, and he couldn’t imagine a worse fate. Thankfully his mother had always been a traditionalist in that regard, though it made it hard to stomach her for other reasons.
“No, of course not,” Essek said with his friendly-laugh, the one that set people at ease. “I’m calling on behalf of Leylas Kryn and her partner Quana Kryn who are interested in utilizing your services to cater a cake for their Vow Renewal.”
“What? Really-sh!” Essek could hear Veth talk off to the side. “Jester get Caleb-!”
“Is now not a good time?” Essek asked, heart pounding in his ears, hoping to get the conversation back on track (trying desperately not to think about Caleb’s voice in his ear because he didn’t want that, he couldn’t handle that).
“No! Now’s a perfect time, uh, what were you thinking? Of a time?”
“It will have to be after your usual closing hours, for the utmost privacy of the Kryns. And we will have to send over papers that ask for a nondisclosure until it is determined whether the service will be utilized, is that agreeable?”
“Yes! Yes of course, sh! Fjord--shutthefuckup--!”
“Very well then, the Kryns have availability tonight or the 13th of this month between the times of seven to eight. Do either of those times work for you?”
“Tonight! Of course we’ll be happy with the appointment tonight.”
“Wonderful,” Essek said, voice trained into a smile. “Would you prefer fax, paper, or magical means of receiving the forms?”
Essek worked out the details and received the signed nondisclosure forms from the fax machine, officially booking in the appointment to Leylas’ schedule. By the time he got off the phone with Veth he felt like he had run a whole marathon. But he looked at the forms that had been signed...and the elegant script caught his attention. Caleb Widogast. He ran his fingers over the copy, taking a moment to trace the loops and lines. It felt oddly intimate in the strangest way...but Essek shook his head resolutely to scatter those thoughts. It wasn’t intimate, he was just being desperate and needy over a kind stranger.
Essek finally picked up the muffin and took a bite, his first taste of food all day. Essek knew the enchantment on the muffins were supposed to keep them from going stale, the perfect spell for early morning rushes and office meetings. And yet he still couldn’t get over it. Buttery and moist, crumbling and melting into his mouth...bursting with bright cranberries in every bright and sweet-zesty oranges in the muffin itself and in the drizzle that lingered on the tongue...and the echo of lemon that strengthened. Of course lemon, Essek thought, annoyed at himself. Always lemon. He wouldn’t be able to even look at a lemon the same way again without thinking of him. But even that couldn’t sour the cripplingly good flavor in his mouth, made stronger with the coffee it was paired with.
Essek called Leylas’ event planner and confirmed that everything was fine to go for tonight, and then scooped up the papers and his tome-pad and walked over to Kryn's office. Her secretary motioned for him to knock, and so he did so carefully.
“Come in,” came Leylas’ voice, and Essek walked into her spacious office. The whole office was styled similarly to the rest of the building, modern and minimalist and with a muted color palette. Leylas looked up, swiveling her chair in order to see Essek better from where she was sitting. “Did you make an appointment to this bakery then?”
“Yes, you should see it on your schedule for tonight considering you had a gap in your calendar and you were hoping to do this sooner rather than later,” Essek said, pulling up the details on his tome-pad and giving Leylas the papers to look at. She skimmed them, seemed content, and then put them in the box that would go to legal. “You will both arrive at seven, be given time to design your wedding cake. This was explained to be that you should come up with ideas about the shape of the cake, colors, flowers you may want-”
“Flowers on a cake?”
“I was told that they craft them out of sugar.”
“How interesting,” Leylas said as she tapped her nail against her arm.
“Also, any specific enchantments you may want on the cake itself. They will explain the options there, but as someone who has sampled the enchantments, no matter what you pick you will not be disappointed. After that you will have time to taste the different standard flavors they offer, or conferences to come up with your own.”
“I see, Quana and I shall talk about it,” Leylas said as she gazed back at her computer. “And you will be coming as well, won’t you?”
“I...what?” Essek asked, surprised. “Your Vow Renewal Planner is going.”
“Of course she is, but, I also trust your opinion as well,” Leylas said as she leaned back in her chair. “I also suppose we are going to be taste testing a bunch of flavors aren’t we? I know how much you enjoy sweets.”
“I don’t enjoy sweets,” Essek said with a frown.
“Right,” she said with a knowing look that almost made Essek bristle but it didn’t...only because he was so well trained to bottle every emotion he had ever felt in his own life and carefully package them away into a neat box which then went into the pit where his soul probably was supposed to be.
“I enjoy the coffee there,” Essek said simply as he closed his tome-pad. “As do you and Mrs. Kryn. But if you would like me to accompany you, I will do so of course.”
“Then be ready to go at 6:30 then,” Leylas said, dismissing him with a wave. Essek stepped out of the room and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a breath, before walking down with the second copies of the legal forms that he would file in the Kryns’ personal collection.
He didn’t like mixing business with pleasure at the best of times, he liked his days separated cleanly into professional-time and Essek time. Any moment it was blurred was honestly stressful in a very vague and strange way, because Essek wasn’t sure who he was meant to be. Though that sounded philosophical, he meant that in quite a literal sense. On a day to day basis Essek had no sense of cognitive dissonance with who Essek-at-work was and who Essek-not-at-work, but when they were in close quarters it made things strange and made social interactions bizarre. People didn’t tend to enjoy the company of Essek-not-at-work, and certainly that was not who Leylas and Quana expected, so Essek-at-work was who would be going with them to the bakery.
At the appointed time, Essek followed Quana and Leylas in his own car. The planner, a young drow woman named Nedna had accompanied the Kryns and appeared with them in the back of their car as the driver opened the door for them. As their bodyguard, a huge minotaur named Sunbreaker Ulomon (yes, Ulomon was his name. No, he wasn’t sure if he had been given the name Sunbreaker or had just given it to himself like a pit-fighter) waited outside the door. Just before any of them could move, there was movement and the sound of running.
“Welcome to Xhorhaus Bakery!” Jester greeted nearly bursting out of the back door in her enthusiasm. “We are so happy to have you! My name’s Jester and-”
She stopped, staring at Essek for a moment, before picking up again as if she had never missed a beat.
“-and Caleb and Veth are in the office. I’ll be bringing you back there!” Jester said.
“Of course,” Leylas said, and hooked her arm with Quana’s as they walked forward. Nedna was casting an extremely judgemental look towards everything as they walked through the front door. Essek pretended that his tome-pad was very interesting as they entered the office where Veth was settling down some books and Caleb was reading over something. He looked up, smiled at Leylas and Quana before blinking rapidly at the sight of him, raking over his face in a way that made Essek tense up. He didn’t have anything on his face, because he always looked in his mirror before he got out of his car. He was dressed in a suit and jacket, just as he usually was.
He wasn’t expecting you here, Essek reminded him. Don’t think anything of it.
“Hello, Mr. Widogast,” Leylas said moving through the space easily and taking his hand, “I am Leylas Kryn, this is my wife Quana, event planner Nedna Mirimm, and my assistant Essek Theylss.”
“It is an honor to meet you,” Caleb said sincerely, taking all of their hands in a handshake. He faltered at the sight of Essek before offering out his hand.
“It is nice to see you again, Mr. Widogast,” Essek said with a soft hopefully-comforting smile, taking Caleb’s hand and giving it a quick shake before releasing it. He definitely was not thinking about how Caleb’s hand felt so warm, and it was large and calloused and strong from spell working and bread-kneading. Those thoughts, of course, didn’t bubble up in his head like breath escaping the lungs. “Though this time in my more professional capacity as opposed to a regular frequenter.”
“It’s nice to see you too,” Caleb agreed, though he looked strangely flustered. For a second he held his own hand, before he turned back to the others. “So you are here about a cake, ja? Take a seat and let's get started. I am assuming you have come here with specifics about the occasion.”
“The Vow Renewal itself will be a rather private affair,” Leylas explained, and Essek resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He supposed 200 guests out of all the important people in the world was “private” but still, it was rather misleading when you put it like that. He typed out a note to make sure that Caleb and those who would be focusing on the cake were made aware. “Though of course it is our day, it is also important for the country as a whole as you can imagine.”
“Of course,” Veth said. “Very important. Extremely important.”
“What is your theme?” Caleb asked curiously.
“I believe the word we were using was celestial, correct Quana?” Leylas asked Quana.
“Yes, considering how much our faith means to us,” Quana said, giving Leylas’ hand a fond squeeze. Their affection was something so easily given, Essek couldn’t help but prickle with some emotion he couldn’t quite name. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt it before...though his own emotions tended to be distant relatives rather than constant companions. All of this feeling he had been doing lately was the exception, not the rule.
“I have reference pictures here of decorations and also of the Kryn’s ceremonial and reception attire,” Nedna said, sliding the folder over for Caleb and Veth to see. “Those are for your reference.”
“How wonderful,” Caleb said with an earnest look at all the materials in the folder. “For your cake, what exactly were you thinking of in terms of how many tiers?”
“As this is a new tradition we were hoping for your expert opinion on the topic,” Leylas said.
“Well, traditionally you would want one tier per forty guests. So if your ceremony will have, let’s say, 100 guests in attendance you would have three tiers. You add another tier for each forty guests. Or, of course, we can always do a smaller cake and cater additional cupcakes or a dessert bar,” Caleb explained, drawing it out on the sketch paper to demonstrate what he meant.
“For all the guests, a six tiered cake then,” Nedna said before sniffing. “How do you get a cake so big to stand?”
“We have different methods of construction as well as a system of dowels we place to add support. Now in terms of design…”
They spoke through the design of the cake, with Essek jotting down the most pressing notes. Geometric designs, silver and metallic accents, the flowers to match the ones chosen for the ceremony. Nedna was actually in charge of this, but still, it never hurt to be thorough. Of course there was no real budget, after all, whatever the Kryns wanted they got. But Essek did keep a close eye on the notes about the cost as laid out on the sheet to tally up a price. They were a small business, it was imperative that they were paid appropriately for their services.
“Essek! Pssst!”
Essek looked up from his notes to see Jester’s hand gesticulating wildly at him. Essek sighed.
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Essek said, and Leylas nodded to give him permission to go. Essek turned the corner and immediately saw all of them around it squatting like they had been listening in to the conversation...and he didn’t doubt they had. He planted his hands on his hips, in a strange reenactment of an old nanny of his. "What?"
"We should be asking the questions!" Beau hissed at him. "What the fuck are you doing here with the Bright Queen?"
"I'm an assistant," Essek said.
"So she's the super secret awesome person you work for?" Jester asked, sounding delighted.
"She would be," Essek admitted.
"That's so cool," Jester said with a dreamy sigh.
"Who is she, again?" Caduceus asked curiously. Essek blinked in surprise, but Caduceus continued to look at Essek with an open honest expression. “I’m sorry, was that a weird question?”
“Of course not. Leylas Kryn is the Bright Queen...she is the Queen of this country, though she no longer has any powers...she gave that up when Xhorhas became a parliamentary government,” Essek explained, giving his best intern’s-first-day spiel to them. “Her partner Quana Kryn is the Dusk Captain, the ceremonial head of military. Right now they are the heads of the Xhorhassian Cultural Institute, which is a government organization whose mission is to preserve and promote our culture. It manages approximately 1,000 organizations such as museums, manors, and other cultural and historical landmarks.”
“That’s wonderful,” Caduceus said. “It is truly an honor to be preserving one’s way of life, and to respect the history behind it.”
History is written by the winners and rewritten to serve one’s needs, Essek thought dismissively. It is an exercise in semantics where we attempt to construct morals and understandings through our thin veils of experience, in a world that is rarely concerned with such things. The subject on the whole is just a breeding ground for those with personal deficits...almost as bad as those who involved themselves willingly with business and economics.
“It is an honor to be working with them,” is what Essek said with an eternally soft smile. For a moment Caduceus’ expression furrowed like he was deep in thought, before it passed.
“So your last name is Theylss? Isn’t that one of the important families in this city?” Fjord asked curiously.
“Ah, yes, it would be,” Essek said. “My family occupies a certain station in this city.”
“So you are like a super duper important person?” Jester asked. “Like nobility or something?”
“Not since the formal den system was eradicated, no. That was a bit before I was born,” Essek said with a dismissive wave.
“When were you born...by the way?” Beau asked suspiciously.
“I am one hundred and twenty years old,” Essek said, “for your kind I would be classified as a young adult.”
“Not too old then,” Jester said with a giggle, to which Yasha gave her a little poke in the side.
“Too old for what?” Essek asked, confused.
“Oh nothing! Nothing!” Jester said, fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly.
“Was there anything else you needed me for?” Essek asked.
“Nothing, nothing, wouldn’t want to keep you too long, just wanted to say hello,” Fjord said, giving them all a look. Beau looked a bit put-out, Caduceus was still looking at him strangely, while Jester seemed to be enjoying her own private joke. Yasha gave him a shrug, and Essek took that as his dismissal.
Essek returned into the room, just as Veth brought out a tray of samples. Each slice resembled little finger sandwiches. There were two sets of ten laid out before them on the small mismatched dishes and plates Essek had come to associate with the bakery, each of varying colors and varieties.
“These are our wedding cake flavors. You can of course feel free to request different combinations without cost, but specialty flavors and special requests will cost more based on the ingredients needed to be purchased and the rarity of those ingredients. I’ve also separated them into categories. Over here we have our most popular flavors,” Caleb pointed to a set of three, “next to that are four of our spring wedding suggestions, and then we have others what we call wild card flavors.”
“I pick those ones!” Veth said, sounding very proud of herself. “The cups are of different types of frostings and fillings that you can have. Is there anything you would like to start with?”
“Let’s start with the wild card,” Quana said and with a nod from Leylas, Veth placed the three tiny cakes in front of both Leylas and Quana, as well as in front of him and Nedna.
“Our first offerings are a honey-lavender cake, orange-lemon cake, and our matcha cake…”
_________
“Essek,” Leylas said as she fixed the collar of her jacket. “It was a very good suggestion. I look forward to what they do with it. Very well done, as usual.”
“Thank you,” Essek said, as he opened the door to their car for them, she slid in next to her wife, who was lounging back and settled an arm around her. Leylas cuddled into her, almost imperceptibly. “Have a good night.”
The car drove off the curb, and Essek heard the tapping of Nedna’s nails against the screen of her own phone.
“That was all very sweet,” Nedna commented idly, eyes violet against the streetlights and the slick asphalt. “And well played, Essek.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea as to what you are referring to,” Essek said, giving her a sidelong look. “If you felt that I was stepping on your toes, that was not my intention. I was merely hoping to offer a suggestion to my employer.”
Silence hung in the air, strangely thick against Essek’s skin. Nedna wasn't responding and Essek did his best not to look at her. Perhaps if he didn't look she wouldn't continue the conversation-
“That’s my driver,” Nedna said, motioning to the black car rolling down the street, dashing any hope he had to escape this conversation in some way unscathed. “But I can always cancel him, send him to pick up my sister. We could have dinner, perhaps? Or something to drink? Nothing so sweet though. I think we’ve both had enough sweets for one day, haven’t we?”
Essek couldn't help but look at her now. She was gazing at him intently, expression hungry and gaze hot against Essek's skin. Ah. This again. Essek hated that, when people stared at him like they could peel back his skin and find what they desired under the surface. They just didn't understand that Essek didn't have anything they wanted in the cage of his body, that whatever they saw in him was just a figment of their own imaginations.
“I’m not hungry,” Essek said flatly.
“You don’t need to be to take me out to dinner,” Nedna said, reaching out to touch his arm. Essek resisted the urge to jerk away from her. He hated things like this. You always had to walk the delicate line, be kind enough to avoid insult, but stern enough to avoid a repeat performance. Everything is politics, his mother’s voice reminded him. Grin and bear it, no Essek, smile in a way that doesn’t make you look like you smelled something awful-
“As much as I appreciate the offer,” Essek said, plucking her hand from his arm. He gave it a soft pat, before releasing her. “I will have to refuse, I am unfortunately far too busy.”
“I see,” Nedna said as the car rolled up. Her expression was something pinched and sour. “A pity.”
On that note, she entered the car which pulled out with a puff of white smoke. Essek sighed, unable to contain his shiver as he rubbed his gloved hands together for warmth. Finally, his day was over. He could go home and relax. The idea was so intoxicating to him that he didn’t even realize that someone was bounding up to him until Jester was almost on top of him.
“Oh my goodness! Essek!” Jester gasped, nearly wiggling with excitement, she threw her arms around him in a hug. Essek felt his breath choke in his lungs because she was soft and warm against him. “Thank you so much! This is going to be so great for the bakery!”
“I don’t know what you are thanking me for, but you are welcome,” Essek said, extricating himself from her embrace as quickly as possible. His skin felt like it was on fire, even though she hadn’t even touched any, and for some reason he wanted her to do it again. It was so bewildering a sensation that he almost missed the next words stated to him.
“You were the one who brought them here, correct?” Caduceus asked, wrapping a fuzzy pink scarf around his own neck. “That was very thoughtful of you.”
“Oh, no, I-”
“You shouldn’t bother lying to Caduceus,” Yasha said, the giant woman quietly approaching. “He can always tell.”
“It is true,” Jester said very seriously before her giant grin broke through like the sun. “Essek. I just had the most amazing idea!”
“What?” Essek said, trying to keep up with her boundless enthusiasm but feeling like he was lagging at least three miles behind.
“The rest of them took Fjord’s car, but this is your car right?”
“Right?”
“The God Squad,” Jester said, forming her hands into a “g” and then a “s”, “was just going to take a taxi to the place, but you should totally join us!”
“Where?” Essek said, feeling dizzy from trying to follow her train of thought.
“Karaoke!” Jester chirped.
“...karaoke?” Essek repeated numbly.
“Does he know what karaoke is?” Yasha asked Caduceus quietly, who just shrugged.
“I know what it is,” Essek said, too befuddled to hide his snippiness. “You want me...to bring you to a karaoke bar.”
“No, join us,” Jester said, motioning to them in a wild manner, much like a mother attempting to goad her child back into her arms after swimming too far off shore. “It’ll be so much fun, Essek! Come on, please? Everyone will love having you there!”
A part of Essek, the rational part, wanted him to say no. After all, none of this was appropriate. They didn’t even know him...he didn’t understand why they would even think to include him in this. But the other part of Essek...the part that was strangely starved thought...it couldn’t possibly be that bad of an idea? After all, what could go wrong?
“The one on second or the one of Ridgecrest Avenue?” Essek asked.
_______
“H̶̱͈̱̘̋ä̷̟̖́̓̒͜ǹ̴̮̰͕̱d̸̖̯͇͊̏̐s̷͙̜̚,̴̩̲̀̆͒ ̶̹͓́́͜͜t̷͇̜̤̱̋̔̈́ơ̷̰ȕ̵͍͖͊c̴̡͔̜̓̈́ḧ̶̩̑i̶̦̥̭̖͝n̷̪̾g̵͓͙̓̒ ̶͖̗̫̈́̓ḫ̸̀͐̾a̵̝̘̥͒̐ǹ̸̼̥͆d̶͈̓s̵͉̄͠, ̸/R̷̞̍̄͐e̸̯͛̓͛a̷̩͗̇̉̄ͅc̷̰̀̽̒̆h̵̼̜̼͆͌̆͝i̶̛͕̙͔̦̿̎̇ņ̷̦̀̆̄͝g̵͉̼̻̈́͜ ̶̳̱̹́͝o̸͓͂̏̑u̶͔͛͝t̴̰̭̺͈̀͋,̶̳̪͓̋́ ̴̳̝̄t̴̪̬͙̆ȍ̴̡͖̾̐ú̴̟̯̕͜ć̷̺͗̀͠h̸̜͙͐͒̉́ǐ̸̩̙̝n̵̡͓̺̩̈́͒͘g̸̢̤̜̻͌͑̎ ̸̭̹̼̹̿́̐͌m̴̱̑̋e̴̟̘̓,̶̺͓͌ ̸̖̩̝̆t̶̛̬̦̙̃̒̉ô̵̧̬͇͖̽̈́̕u̶̗͙̹͋̏̕͜͠c̷̤̗̾͋̕͜͠ḧ̷̢̛̤́ͅi̸̡͖̠̾̋͑n̷̜̠͓̖̓g̷͙̔̀̊̾ ̶͙̜̞̹̾͋͊y̷̛̩͂̈͜o̵̧̬̼̎͐͝ú̵͈̥̤…!” Everyone at the karaoke place sang loudly, miming reaching out and grasping onto each other dramatically. Essek had been told by Veth and Beauregard that this was apparently an Empire classic, by some tiefling bard named Ni’al Deamound. Apparently everyone else knew it too, as this was a bar filled with immigrants from the Empire, which was strange since it was in the original abyssal.
“S̸̞̟̍w̷̰̫͛̀̀̈͜e̴̞̬͖͊̔͜ẽ̵͙͖͔̖̌t̵̳̒̄̍̕ ̴̭̳̳̪̐̒C̶̮̻̊̀͝ȁ̷̤̐͐̏r̶̭̤̤̫͛̉͂o̴̖̲̖͚̔l̵̟̙͗͘͝͝i̸͍̫̚ͅn̶̙̭̑̀͋ë̸̦̞́͐̈́͝!” Veth nearly screeched into the microphone, as the crowd at the karaoke placed cheered.
“̶̨̦̔̆͜ͅB̵͙͇̈́͑͜A̷̯̦̖̼͋̀ ̴̧̟̦̜͛͛̑̇B̵̖̬͓͙̊̉̕A̸̮͖͆́ ̵̦͒B̶̡̺̆̔A̵͚̹͐̕!̷̱̩̆͗̑!̷̎͑͐̄ͅ!̵̮͛̇” The rest of the Mighty Nein shouted back.
“̷̦̊G̵̠͎̳͔̑o̴̞̩̎̾͛ơ̷͙͉̯͓̆͋d̵̲̥̫̘̍͐̈́ ̸̩͌̑̈́̿t̷̜̠͉͔͑̀͆į̷̝͠m̵̥̩̦̤̽̍̑e̶͚͇̒ş̷̓̉͌̾ ̷̢̜̈́͂̈́͒n̶͔͒͆̿͝e̸̛̖̼͋̓̈v̷̮͓̍͊͝ḙ̸̛͓̹̥͑̋r̵̹̪̎ ̶̟́͠ͅͅs̵̺̭͗́ͅȇ̵̙̒̾̈́e̵̱̞̙̥̓͑͝m̷̛̬͝é̵͚̫̿ḋ̶̜̮͒̃ͅ ̸̭̹͙͒͐̽ş̸̯̉͌͑̀o̴̒͛̆̾͜ ̵̻͓̦̓g̸̱̏o̴̡̓̇o̷̮̟̣̅͒d̷̢̳̬̓̅!”
“̷̭̆S̷̪̼͋͊͒̓Ò̴̢̬̏̈́͂ ̷̙͉̪̈́G̴̞̪͛͊O̵̻͈̝͎͐O̴̹̩͕̤͛̆̊D̷̦̆̈͒!̶̨͚̱̘͛̅̑̈́ ̵͖̪̲̈͂̎͑Ș̸̲̈́O̵̘̙̠͙̾ ̸͉͙̱̫͘Ġ̸͈̠̍͒Ơ̸͉͓͖̏̈́ͅO̵̧͖̞̓̕D̷̨͒̐!̵͙̄̔͘ ̸̤̼̥̃̔S̵͙̘̄̾͜Ǫ̴̖̟̩̀ ̶̥͖̦̥͗̐̔̌G̸͉͚̦̽̆̋Ò̷̳͍̭̜Ǫ̸̹͙̭́̓D̷̨̜̩͍͆̂!̵̱̹̩̎͌́͝” The Mighty Nein chanted, which would have been concerning...depending on the situation. The song ended with a raucous applause as someone else took the strage, yodeling through a Scanlan Shorthalt classic, “Eye of the Goliath”. Essek was mostly zoned out, and was startled as Caleb sat down next to him with a drink in his hands. He had spent most of his time there just absorbing the company and the conversation, contributing only when asked a direct question. Essek hadn’t ever been the most sociable person, and he found himself suddenly anchored by Caleb’s company.
“Care for another drink?” Caleb asked, settling it down in front of himself, it was a glass of beer, a stout perhaps? Essek wasn’t too versed in drinks unless they were light and fruity cocktails. “I don’t mind running back to the bar for another one.”
“No, no, I have to drive,” Essek said, cradling the same cocktail he had been drinking the whole time he had been there. “Though, I’ll probably need to grab something to eat on my way home...I don’t have anything in my fridge.”
“You ought to come with us back to our place,” Beauregard said, plopping down on the other side of the booth and taking a long sip from her glass. A look passed between her and Caleb that Essek didn’t understand. “After we go to karaoke we normally have a snack party.”
“Beau, smile more invitingly,” Fjord coached, and Beauregard’s expression tightened into an unnatural smile.
“I couldn’t impose, just this has been very kind,” Essek said, waving them off.
“It’s the least we can do,” Fjord argued. “This is going to be huge for us.”
“We would love to have you,” Caleb promised, with a smile that spread so handsomely across his face. “We were going to get going anyways relatively soon. I think Jester wanted to sing one more song-”
“Essek you should totally sing with me!” Jester called from the front of the line. “We can do a duet!”
“Ah, no, I don’t sing!” Essek called back.
“Beau? Yasha?” Jester called back and both ladies looked at each other before shrugging and going up to join Jester for a rousing rendition of Marion Lavorre’s single “Ladies’ Night”, with shockingly accurate choreography to the music video if Essek recalled correctly.
“Will you come?” Caleb asked, sounding hopeful.
“I...if you don’t mind,” Essek said, downing the rest of his cocktail in hopes that it would soothe his suddenly dry throat.
Essek managed to drive the so-called God Squad to the house the Mighty Nein owned without getting into a car accident despite Jester’s constant narration (with the exception of Veth, who apparently lived in a smaller house down the street with her husband and son). It was decently sized in a relatively nice part of the city that was lined with vermaloc trees and brownstones, indigenous and hearty enough to survive the eternal night of the city. Essek was surprised, though he wasn’t sure what he had expected it wasn’t this.
“Everyone grab what they’ve been working on, it’s munchies party time!” Jester shouted out Essek’s window, nearly jumping out of it as it was still moving. Essek parked behind Fjord’s car in the driveway and admired the home. It was painted a lovely maroon and settled on a light stone foundation, a traditional style to this area and yet it seemed warm and inviting.
“You have a lovely place,” Essek commented as the half-orc locked his car. He looked up at the house proudly, following Essek’s own gaze.
“We were pretty lucky to get it,” Fjord hummed. “It was a bit of a fixer-upper, but we’ve put a lot of work into it and it’s paid off.”
“It was the pit money,” Yasha added softly.
“Pit money?” Essek repeated incredulously. “You were pit fighters?”
“That’s actually how we met,” Caleb said as he idled up besides them as Beau opened the door. “We were all earning a bit of extra money in the pits at Alfied, and then we realized we could be much more successful as a group. That’s how we got the name, the Mighty Nein.”
“Group pit fighting is much more dangerous,” Essek observed. Pit fighting was a nationally recognized sport, derived from the business of the old adventuring parties of old. Groups of fighters or individuals would fight each other or magical beasts in tournaments, and betting on such events was a whole industry in it of itself.
“But, extremely lucrative,” Caleb said. “We had a decent winning streak going, built up enough funds to put the down payment on the bakery as well as this place when we finally made it over the border.”
“You are all an interesting group of individuals,” Essek noted.
“Unfortunately that’s not even the half of it,” Caleb chuckled, the sound warmed Essek all the way through as they walked up the steps and entered the house.
The house itself was a study in the concept of lived-in, in a way that magazines glossed over or attempted to replicate with certain air that was not present. Every nook and cranny was full of things, collectable porcelain cats or tea cups, mismatched loveseats and a couch layered with handmade quilts and decorative pillows of different shades, shininess, and fur. Paintings (done in Jester’s characteristic style and raunchiness, seashells and plants decorated the walls. The kitchen itself was spacious and with a generous island with a slab of what looked like marble along the side. Dried herbs were hung by the window with racks of pots and pans and other utensils.
“I’m gonna grab the pickles from downstairs,” Caduceus was calling from the top basement step. “What’s the plan? Does anyone want my kimchi?”
“I’ll help Cad,” Fjord offered as he plodded over to the basement door. “I think I’m gonna grab the kombucha we made too.”
“Oh! I do! Also, Caleb, do you still have some of the bread you made this morning? Let’s have a grilled cheese party!” Veth offered as she opened the fridge and began pulling out a large assortment of ingredients. “Whose making sides?”
“We got you,” Beau said before Jester joined her and they fist bumped. Immediately they pulled out something from underneath the island and unfolded a seperate table.
“Are you comfortable in the kitchen?” Caleb asked, and Essek realized that he was talking to him. He had just been standing there by the coat rack, taking everything in.
“Uh...enough to survive,” Essek said, though, even that was doubtful.
“Why don’t you join Yasha, she’s very good at prepping ingredients,” Caleb said as he tied an apron around his waist, and Essek looked towards the larger woman who nodded at him.
“Of course,” Essek said, hoping to find some sense of himself with a smaller task.
And so Essek was set to work, chopping vegetables and also various meats. Yasha stopped him a few times to correct the way he was slicing a vegetable, and Essek committed to watching her in an attempt to learn something. She handled a knife with a sense of ease and finesse that Essek hadn’t expected but was determined to copy. It also provided a good distraction from Essek staring at Caleb...though he often found his eyes drawn to Caleb regardless. He moved effortless through the kitchen, slicing homemade loaves of bread, frying, popping trays in the oven, tasting when someone put a spoon to his mouth and dispensing advice. He and Veth worked like a well oiled machine, in fact, all the Mighty Nein did, moving with a kind of partnership that seemed to Essek to be as organic as moving limbs. But more than that, his shoulders and arms made a pretty picture…
“Alright! Grilled cheese party is complete! Let’s eat!” Fjord said, grasping the platter filled with the sandwiches as Beau and Jester finished placing down the sides in the living room. Caleb patted to the cushion next to him on the couch, and Essek sat down in it woodenly. He could have never done something like this at home as a child, Essek thought. Eating dinner in the living room? What if something spilled on the rug or ruined the chairs or the couch? And yet, none of them seemed concerned in the least.
“Essek’s our guest, he gets to pick the sandwich he wants,” Caduceus seemed to remind the group as Veth swatted at Fjord’s hand who stuck his tongue out at her.
“No, don’t worry. You all pick what you like, I’ll just take whatever is left,” Essek said, staring at the mountain of foods in front of him with hesitance. Caduceus poured the drink into his glass, and smiled at Essek.
“Would you like a suggestion, perhaps?” Caleb asked with a soft look that soothed his soul. Caleb reached over to scoop one of the sandwiches off the tray and placed it gently there, he also carefully placed the salad that Beauregard and Jester had made. “This is perhaps my favorite post-drinking food. It’s called a Croque-Madame. I made the bread myself, so I hope you enjoy it.”
Essek, a bit daunted by the giant sandwich on his plate, stared at it in awe. It really was a thing of beauty, toasted bread oozing with cheese, covered with a browned bechamel sauce, and topped with a perfectly fried egg that popped with the lightest touch as Essek cut into the sandwich with his knife. Essek carved out a bite, and brought it to his mouth and nearly melted right there. The bread itself was a revelation, flavorful (in the tangy way that only good bread was) and light with a certain open texture you just couldn’t get in the supermarket. The cheese was earthy and nutty and melty while contrasted with the smoky-sweet-salty of the ham, and the unexpected warm spice and perfect dash of mustard...completely rounded out with oozing golden yolk and the sprinkling of herbes de provence. Essek took his next bites alternating the vingerary-acidic charred cabbage-and-scallion slaw that Jester and Beau had made, as well as the broccoli-parmesan-anchovy bake that Fjord and Veth were nearly fighting over.
“I don’t know how you manage it...to make everything taste so good,” Essek said, taking a long sip of kombucha. He yawned, feeling so full he couldn’t take another bite. Essek looked up to see Caleb looking at him, with an intense expression that had Essek nearly blushing. Ah, it was rude to yawn at the table.
“Food always tastes better when we are eating together,” Caleb noted, looking at the lively table they were surrounded by. The grilled cheese on Caleb’s plate was half eaten, and Essek looked at his own in realization.
“I took your sandwich, didn’t I?” Essek said. “I’m sorry, I-”
“No, watching you enjoy it was enough for me,” Caleb promised.
“Here-” Essek said, spearing a forkful and lifting it before he realized what he was doing. Essek cringed, opened his mouth to apologize. But instead of refusing and turning away, Caleb leaned down and took the bite. Eyes fluttering for a moment, cheeks warmed through as he seemed to consider the flavor deeply. Essek was watching his mouth, he really couldn’t look away as Caleb’s tongue sweeped out for a moment and he caught a drop of the sauce on his thumb. Oh Gods, Essek thought desperately, looking away quickly, as if just looking at Caleb could burn. How did this man even turn chewing into the sexiest thing that Essek had ever seen? It should be a crime.
“Perhaps my best yet,” Caleb said with a tender look, blue eyes darkened.
“That I don’t doubt,” Essek murmured, taking another lazy sip. Really, the conversation was lively but soft. This whole house was filled with something soothing...the imperceptible thing that made the bakery feel so alive and comforting...settling in his belly like the food that nourished him. Essek wondered what it was as he let his heavy eyelids sink with his train of thought. If Caleb could find a way to bottle it up...Essek was sure it would sell for a fortune. He would find a way...just as everything he touched became magic...
Leaned against something warm, and feeling just the gentlest touch brush his forehead, Essek’s thoughts drifted off into the gentle darkness.
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A Bird in the Hand: Chapter Three
Read on Ao3 here!
Rating: T
Fandom: Critical Role
Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (eventual)
Chapter Characters: Mollymauk Tealeaf, Essek Thelyss
Chapter Tags/Warnings: Molly Rez, Amnesiac Mollymauk, Oh My God They Were Roommates, Shopping Episode, Mental Health Stigma, Molly’s Not Okay, Essek Isn’t Either But He Sure Can Pretend
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The bed was the single most comfortable place Mollymauk had been in his entire life.
His entire memory consisted of about a month or two or three of running amok in between: sleeping in the dirt, fighting or running for his short fraction of a life, and passing out in the dirt again. Rinse and repeat until he was here, in a bed that was actually worth more than a few silver pieces a night, and he was certain that he never wanted to leave. The warmth of the blankets and the comfort of the mattress and the pillow under his head granted the deepest sleep he knew of.
He was clean. His back didn’t hurt. There were no screaming monstrosity trying to eat him. Life just might be a thing worth living, Mollymauk realized. Up until now, it had just felt like an exceedingly cruel joke.
The clattering downstairs was a bit less glorious. He buried his face in the pillow, trying to block out the sound. This was his home now. Forever. Warm and soft and safe, always. Luxury was the only way to live.
Except he did have to piss. And there was a hunger gnawing at his stomach. The prison hadn’t granted him much in the way of meals, nor had Essek offered one last night, which was yet another strike against his hosting ability. And so began Mollymauk’s valiant effort to convince himself that getting out of bed meant relieving all the aches and insistences of his body.
Once he’d eaten, he could simply return to bed, Molly reminded himself, and that was the final burst of motivation he needed to let his hooves touch the floor.
Clean, folded clothes were set just inside the door. He’d slept through it being opened, apparently, something that would have gotten him killed out in the wilds of Xhorhas. Perhaps that was what hedonism meant, self-indulgence to the point of destruction.
Worth it, he snickered, pulling his clothes on before wandering out into the corridor. A trip to the bathroom later, he was sliding down the stair’s rail and to the first floor, following the scent of a slightly-burned something to the kitchen.
Essek was wearing an apron. The material was stiff, like a gift given and never worn, and the straps were tied in a knot that would be a pain to undo later. Still, Molly leaned in the doorframe, smiling to himself at the sight of the respectable Shadowhand grimacing over a pan of sausages.
“Staring at ‘em won’t get you far,” Mollymauk informed him, enjoying the stiffness that jerked into Essek’s back. It eased a moment later, and he had to admit he was impressed by the man’s poise as he turned around to give a perfectly polite smile.
“I hope you’ve rested well,” Essek greeted. He waved to the pan, saying, “I’ve only just started cooking.”
Mollymauk scanned the rest of the kitchen. There was only the one pan on the stove. Only sausages were in the aforementioned pan. No bread or eggs or porridge or anything at all to go with it, traditional breakfasts be damned. “Do you just have that, or…?” He let the question trail out.
Essek frowned at the pan. “I had some groceries sent over, so I need to look through those to determine what would go best with this.”
“Probably should have started with that. Meat cooks fast, and it’ll be cold by the time anything else is ready.” Molly trotted into the kitchen, making a beeline for what was probably the pantry, hanging off one door as he swung it open. He grabbed a loaf of bread, searching for the knife drawer as he chirped, “This will do! Do you want butter, jelly? Do you have those, actually, before I go too far.”
“Butter, yes,” Essek said, watching him with a furrowed brow. Molly hummed as he found the toaster, clamping each slice between metal bars and lighting another flame at the stove to toast them. “And, I am sure they brought preserves of some kind.”
“Wonderful, wonderful.” Perhaps it wasn’t the three course breakfast in bed he would have liked, but the way his stomach was growling, the room-temperature bread alone was looking pretty delicious.
Something took the toaster’s handle from his grasp. Molly blinked in surprise as he watched it continue to turn without his grip, held aloft by an —
“Invisible servant,” Essek explained. “You should sit down. You’re my guest, don’t trouble yourself on my behalf.”
“If you insist,” Molly shrugged. The table was already set, and he had no qualms with falling into a chair to tip it back against the wall and watch Essek work. He was a meticulous fellow. As out of his element as he seemed, fumbling around breakfast plans and overlooking a guest’s needs, there was something very precise in the man’s every detail. The way he moved, drifting rather than walking. Long fingers, clever fingers. A spellcaster’s hands, something in his brain told him, though he didn’t know where it came from. Molly wouldn’t be surprised if Essek were timing things exactly before removing the pan from the stove, the toaster from the flame.
As elaborate as the display was, breakfast itself was comicall plain. Toast and sausages, served upon gilded plates over a pristine tablecloth, water poured into crystal glasses. Mollymauk couldn’t help but lean deep to one side just to check if Essek’s butt was seated fully in his chair, and he felt some disappointment to find that it was.
“I apologize for the simplicity of the meal,” Essek started.
Mollymauk rolled his eyes. “Quit apologizing. I’m still enjoying the bedrest afterglow and the sound of feigned guilt will ruin it.”
“Feigned guilt —”
“Or just shame for your performance?” Molly suggested. “I get the picture. All of this,�� he waved to the room they sat in, “is a stage. To impress and entertain, and to follow the script. And you, my friend, are the fulltime actor now that I’m here. One person is always in the audience. And I don’t mean any criticism by that — well, maybe some, but I am a hypocrite. For some reason, I greatly respect the art of entertainment, so at the very least I’m not looking down on you.” He smiled.
Essek’s expression didn’t change, but there was something colder in the glint of his eyes. “You have quite the… active imagination,” he commented, perfectly polite as the script demanded.
“Thank you,” Molly grinned, all teeth.
Essek insisted he didn’t help wash the dishes, and for a blissful moment Mollymauk truly believed he would just spend the rest of the day in that lovely, lovely bed. Instead he heard, “Well, we should be heading out, now. We’ll get your measurements done first and then you can spend a few hours at the spa, if you would like.”
Spa was a word as sweet as bed. Mollymauk had his boots laced in a heartbeat. He looked up to Essek, just in time to be treated to the sight of the elf floating over a pair of fine dress shoes, his long mantle hiding them from view. A moment later, when he moved away, the shoes had vanished from the floor.
Molly sputtered. Essek gave him a Look, a furrowed both and a thin frown as Mollymauk wheezed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Nothing, it’s nothing,” he breathed. “How many of the fine folk here absorb their shoes each morning, or is it just a quirky thing you do?”
Essek opened his mouth. Sharp teeth, Molly noted, approvingly. He closed his mouth, drew in a deep breath, and sighed before drifting for the door. “It’s polite to arrive at your appointments a few minutes early,” he said, smoothly ignoring Mollymauk. “We should leave now to ensure that.”
“Sure, sure,” Molly smiled, sauntering after him.
The streets of the city were disorientingly dark. His brain insisted it was morning, and that they should be strolling through the pale light of the eastern sun. He remembered first seeing that eerie cloud during his journey, hanging in the distance and feeling like an ill omen from so far away. The road to his life, to filling the hole in his chest, sat under a curtain of black.
Now he knew it to just be thanks to the drow’s sensitive eyes. Essek’s were nearly pale as the moon, the softest lavender with no visible pupils.
As he stared, Essek’s ear twitched. His head turned faintly to the side, a glance through the corner of his eye finding Mollymauk’s. “What is it?” Essek asked, facing him completely.
“Oh, nothing,” Molly said. As sincere as the comment would be, strangers didn’t often appreciate his compliments, or took them the wrong way. Molly appreciated different things about the body — the way the merchant’s knuckles jutted out, and the fingers narrowed in between each joint, the lopsided quality to a bartender’s smile and his crooked teeth, or the eerie, nearly-snowblind quality to this dark elf’s eyes. Eerie wasn’t bad. Eerie was captivating, lured him in, left him incapable of looking away. Yet very few people would hear his words how he intended them.
Even with the deflection, Essek kept staring at him. Mollymauk only smiled politely and took hold of his own tail to twine it between his fingers.
They passed large, elaborate properties, many guarded or gated or both. Even once they left the residential area, it was clear they were in the upper class portion of the city. Every last person was dressed nearly as elaborately as Essek. They stared openly, too, and that pointed to being the audacious sort, which Mollymauk wouldn’t entirely mind if it weren’t so rude. He only shook his hair back and started whistling a jolly tune, letting his hooves clack on the pavement in time with the song.
Essek snorted once, what was possibly a laugh. Molly had to grin, counting that a considerable victory.
They hailed a carriage passing on the streets, letting it carry them the rest of the way. Their destination was a sight that made Molly’s tail twist with excitement: a single story building with glass windows displaying suits and dresses and jewelry and an entire array of gorgeous things to wear. Some were far too classy for his liking, but there were enough bold patterns to make him salivate.
They passed through glass doors, a small bell chining overhead. “If any of these are to your liking, you can tell Brirr,” Essek said, gesturing around the shop. “She’s quite talented at matching up your desire with something that will still look respectable.”
“You’re not gonna get respectable from me,” Mollymauk murmured, as he admired a set of earrings. One was a star, a golden stud matched with a dangling silver moon. There were ear cuffs, meant for elves but perhaps he could make them fit the shorter tiefling ears — there had to be variations, after all.
The browsing was interrupted by the seamstress’ arrival. Seamstress Brirr was a bugbear woman, her broad paws doing surprisingly delicate work as she took Mollymauk’s measurements and chatted him up. She questioned his style preference, and his answers seemed to make her eyes gleam. “As loud as you can get while still looking beautiful,” Mollymauk insisted. “Clashing patterns are fine, I can make them work.”
“I’m sure you can,” she rumbled, baring her teeth in a fanged smile. It would feel threatening if Molly couldn’t see his own delight mirrored back at him.
It took far less time than expected. She ushered them out, promising to send word as his outfits were completed, and taking a hefty bag of coin from Essek.
Mollymauk’s ears tilted back. “I didn’t realize how much that was going to cost you,” he started.
Essek waved it off. “The Mighty Nein are heroes of the Dynasty. The least I can do is provide clothes for their friend. We can find more basic wear around the other shops. And — this is yours.”
He passed a small box to Mollymauk, whose eyebrows crept upward as he examined it. Brirr’s name was written onto it in glittering gold ink.
The earrings were inside, the golden star and hanging silver moon. Mollymauk went still as he stared at them, stunned into quiet.
“... If you didn’t want them, I’m sure we could exchange them,” Essek started, when the silence stretched too long.
“ Nope. ” Mollymauk plucked the stud out, fumbling with his ear. “These are mine now, no takebacks.” He swallowed, and then smiled up at Essek. “Thank you. And, be a dear, would you? I can’t do this without a mirror.”
Essek paused before reaching, hesitantly, for the piercing. He was almost too delicate as he tugged Molly’s earlobe, feeding the point through and letting Mollymauk press the back into place. The same was repeated for the other piece, a comfortable weight swinging off his ear. His tail flicked back and forth in unison.
A steady warmth welled up in his chest. He just might like Essek.
Darting from store to store was a process. Essek was silent as Molly browsed, and offered stilted, neutral commentary when asked for opinions. There was something absolutely delightful about dynasty fashion, and that was that with the number of elves with blue and purple skintones, there were more viable options for him than Mollymauk had ever encountered in his brief life.
It was with bags weighing his arms that they at last turned for the promised event: the spa. “This,” Mollymauk breathed, “is shaping up to be the best day of my life. Now, that wasn’t very hard to top, but I think you’re allowed to be proud of yourself.”
Essek let out a soft breath that Molly was starting to recognize as a laugh of sorts. “I’m… honored,” he said. There was a pause before he added, “You haven’t asked many questions.”
“Should I be?” Molly asked mildly, and then smirked. “Oh! There’s one.”
The humor seemed to be lost on his host, as he only said without missing a beat, “It must have been a harrowing journey to get here. It’s well known that the lands outside our cities are dangerous. And you claim that you came all this way, with no memory of the Nein you are pursuing, because of a note?”
“That’s right,” Molly nodded.
“And yet you haven’t tried to find out who they are.”
The words hung in the air a moment longer than they should have. Mollymauk’s gaze shifted away, a low hum sounding in his throat. Tieflings could purr, did so when they were calm and relaxed. A deeper rumble was reserved for the purpose of relax ing, soothing bristling nerves, and now his chest vibrated with that deeper sound. “It’s about the journey, not the destination,” Molly said. “But sure, I’ll bite. How about you tell me their names?”
Essek paused. “Well,” he said. “First, there is Caleb.”
A sensation of heat flashed over Mollymauk’s skin, like a hand drifted too close to a flame.
“There is Beauregard. Expositor Beauregard.”
A mixed sensation — the need to laugh and to snarl in the same moment.
“There is… Jester. Who very much lives up to her name.”
The snarl faded, just a smile, pure fondness and the want to laugh and to make laugh.
“There is Nott.”
An unnamed emotion. Suspicion, and appreciation. The respect for a good grift and the understanding he may be the next mark.
“And there is Fjord. He is typically well-spoken.” A note of derision entered Essek’s voice.
It was familiar to Mollymauk, comfortable and warm.
“And there is Caduceus. He is unusual, but has a keen eye.”
That one, Mollymauk felt nothing. He blinked, silenced by the sudden twisting in his chest. The hole bored just to the right of his heart was suddenly squirming, uncomfortable. This was why he didn’t want to know.
“Oh, there is one more,” Essek murmured. “She was gone for a long while. Yasha.”
It ached. He was nearly breathless from it, heat behind his eyes and a sudden yawning want, his skin felt cold, the air around him empty when there should be something filling up the space behind him, guarding his back, holding his heart. Delicate and dangerous as belladonna.
Yasha. Yasha. His heart, his heart was gone, that was the hole in his chest, hollowed out and, “Empty.”
The word was what caught Essek’s attention. Or, not the word, but the inflection behind it. It was the dullest he’d heard Mollymauk’s voice, and the sound was nothing short of alien.
“Empty,” he said again, but it shook this time. And then he gasped and clutched at himself, wheezing on a breath and stammering out, “Empty. Empty. E-empty, empty, empty.”
“Mollymauk —” Essek halted. The streets weren’t crowded, but those passing by had already been staring. Now they watched as the tiefling hugged himself and babbled, wide-eyed. The bags he’d been carrying slumped to the ground as he started to sink, until Essek moved forward to catch his weight.
Arms flung around him. He tensed, heart skipping with a brief panic before he realized Molly wasn’t attacking him, but clinging. He was shoving his face into his chest and muffling each empty into his clothes.
People were staring. A hot flush burned Essek’s skin as he burned magic far stronger than he should have to get the bags to lift themselves and travel along as he struggled to untangle Mollymauk’s grasp.
He sucked in a sharp breath, shutting off his own panic. Essek tipped Mollymauk’s chin up, forcing the tiefling’s wild eyes to lock with his own. “ Mollymauk ,” he crooned, enchantment lacing his voice. “ You’re okay. Just follow me and everything will be okay. I promise that you’re safe with me.”
The tiefling had been able to shake this magic before, but perhaps thanks to his scrambled mind, Molly’s eyes glazed over. The panicked breaths evened out. The hand still fisted in his clothes relaxed. Essek took it, leading him without resistance through the streets.
Enchantment was a dangerous school of magic. Few people appreciated having their minds toyed with, emotions changed, reasoning blurred. But this was necessary, Essek told himself. Mollymauk had been having some kind of a fit in the middle of the streets.
It wasn’t the first time he’d seen such a thing. Soldiers often collapsed into wails or tears or labored breaths. He himself had experienced these fits before. Stress weighing on the brain, he knew, all fairly common in his occupation but not to be witnessed. Not to be displayed.
He tugged Mollymauk along to a public park, to find a secluded spot to sit him down. A bench was framed by brambles, dark blooms resting among thorns. Mollymauk sat, stilted and doll-like, to stare blankly Essek’s way. He wasn’t charmed, just convinced of the truth Essek had told him: as long as he were here, as long as Mollymauk followed him, there would be no troubles.
Essek braced himself as he dropped his hold on the spell.
The light returned to Mollymauk’s eyes. There was a beat before he stiffened, and then leaped to his feet, pulling away from Essek. His lip curled, a snarl on his face as he bit out, “Do not — N'bb sph oep jlqh hnal.” A hiss of infernal rose from Molly’s throat, the hair at the back of Essek’s neck standing on end.
He raised his hands. “I apologize,” he said, and Mollymauk silenced to just glower and pant. “I apologize,” he repeated. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
The moment stretched out, the air thick between them. Molly’s tail twisted and lashed, and Essek’s ears pinned low. He saw the tiefling’s throat bob as he swallowed and puffed out a breath.
“Fine,” he said, short and harsh. None of Mollymauk’s jovial attitude remained, not in his posture nor his voice. “But do not do it again. This is why I don’t ask questions.”
“I understand,” Essek murmured. Calm and rational, that was what he needed.
He watched as Molly calmed himself. It was a visible process, grasping his tail by the base and sliding up to its spaded tip, like smoothing wrinkles from a garment. The tension dropped from his shoulders, he shook his head and swept his hair back into place.
“Okay,” Molly said. “I forgive you. But you had better get me to that spa now, or I’m rescinding my forgiveness.”
“Generous of you,” Essek gave a thin smile, one that didn’t betray his relief. He started forward again, saying, “Right this way, Mister Tealeaf.”
After a moment, he heard the clopping of hooves following. “As you command, Mister Thelyss,” Mollymauk called. It was pleasant to hear the smile in his voice.
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ok, with the news that cr’s final episode (141) is SEVEN hours long (compared to the normal 4ish), i’m just going to update jester now and have a small (hopefully lol) addendum after the ep airs.
so memory update for jes! episodes 137-140 tw: body horror
not that you wouldn’t but please take this tw seriously. matt is a genius and his mind is something else. but the shit he came up with for these 4 episodes is messed up...amazing if you’re into that kinda stuff or it doesn’t bother you, but still pretty messed up. crazy.
once again, bolded numbers in parentheses are the episode numbers. rather than somewhat short bullet points, this one has a lot of paragraphs...just an fyi. this is mostly because i’m copying and pasting from crit recaps, which are much easier to skim through than trying to decipher my live tweets or watching a whole 4 hour episode again.
i tried to shorten things as best i could though. (even if it doesn’t look like it lol)
floating in the astral sea, the mighty nein figure out that they can just move using their mind (137)
in the distance they see lucien and cree, and further yet the city- the cognoza ward of aeor.
lucien and cree split off and go to opposite ends of the city, to place the final threshold crests so the city can be teleported to the material plane. the nein can only follow one, so they take the left. they are too far away to be able to tell which one they’re following.
as they approach the city, patterns can be seen..like the city is repeating itself. they can see people walking around, but not interacting, like they’re just going through the motions.
TW STARTS HERE
the city seems to be made of flesh
[this is kind of unimportant in the sense of jester, but important for what overall happened in these eps] caleb attempts to talk to a citizen but only gets a terrifying scream in response. this is followed by someone telepathically telling him they must talk. the citizen’s eye swells and the voice starts talking to him. they introduce themselves and timorei, one of the somnovem -- the Somnovem must destroy oblivion in order to endure. Elatis and Luctus plot to end their march to bring darkness and nothing. They embrace the unknown and must be stopped. Timorei asks the Nein to find them in the Aether Crux, where their essence resides
The eye dissolves and the man liquefies into the street.
fjord flies down and lands on the street. it looks like flesh but feels and sounds like stone. a woman approaches him, an eye appears from her mouth - ira - asking who they were just talking to. mirimus? gaudius? caleb lies and says gaudius, ira believes him and says not to trust gaudius. the eye pops and the woman turns into a fleshy horror, along with six other people. they’re made of eyes and teeth and muscle and tentacles. a battle ensues.
every time one of these things is defeated, a sigh of relief comes from it. when caleb kills the final one, it sighs and thanks him.
the Nein discuss trying to pit the Somnovem against each other. Finding one whose goals align with theirs, like Gaudius, who seems to want oblivion.
whoever the somnovem were, they seem to have devolved into base emotions
the nein split up momentarily into groups of two and investigate some of the nearby houses. Each one contains a lazy recreation of the interior of a building, as though the memory of what it should look like is hazy. Half-formed furniture and unfinished interiors. Fjord and Jester find a room that’s very drippy and the floor is the same texture as a tongue. jester collects some of the saliva or whatever’s dripping in a vial for veth. (she sneakily drops it and jes doesn’t notice) rip
Caleb investigates the gazebo area, where there are featureless statues that copy each other. Where the stairs meet the ground, there’s a folding dip. Caleb touches the dip and it opens into another mouth, showing stairs that continue down. The Nein go down the stairs, to warmer temperatures and metallic walls that remind them of Aeorian tunnels. Cad casts decompose – it takes a moment but the wall does begin to grey. Cad thinks this is a stronger memory that knows what it’s supposed to be.The corridor splits off into three different directions. To the right is the ‘Presidius Junction’. The middle, where the hall corkscrews, is the ‘Crest Vault’. To the left…it simply says ‘help’, over and over.
they decide to go to the crest vault since that seems like where one would go to place a threshold crest
They hear footsteps coming down the hall from the direction they’re traveling, and try to hide themselves in crevasses of the wall. The footsteps stop and red light fills the hallway as the eyes on Beau and Caleb begin to glow. Cree: “i was wondering when you would catch up.”
battle begins jester immediately takes caleb and dimension doors 500 feet, behind cree, towards a faint blue light they could see behind her. they are now in a chamber, familiar and similar to one they’ve seen before in the ruins of aeor. and up near the ceiling, is a threshold crest, set in place and glowing. caleb casts disintegrate on the prongs holding it and it begins to fall, but doesn’t get far before fleshy tendrils from the ceiling catch it and begin pulling it back up. jester polymorphs into a giant ape and tries to pull it down, but the tendrils are too strong. she lifts caleb up so he can be closer to it and he casts immovable object on the crest. it’s now suspended in the air, the tendrils unable to pull it anymore. (138)
during all this, the other six are fighting cree. she goes down surprisingly fast (rip for having a low initiative), her dying breath asking the nonagon for help. he says (which only beau can hear) he needs her to hold them off a little longer, and she turns into a monstrosity of flesh, teeth, and eyes. (similar but bigger than the ira one)
they fight her for a little longer and with the help of caduceus’s path to the grave spell, veth gets the killing blow on it.
the monstrosity is called a vessel of the pattern, and because fjord, veth, cad, and essek could see the patterns within it/cree, they all got an eye. jester and yasha are now the only ones without eyes.
The others join Caleb and Jester in the threshold vault. Caduceus casts blight on the flesh tendrils, releasing the crest and allowing Caleb to move it. After a conversation about their options, the Nein decide to plane shift the crest away to the Plane of Fire, which Caduceus does. Now Lucien can no longer bring Cognouza to Exandria, but they still have to deal with the Nonagon himself. They need to rest, but they’re out of time.
essek brings up the gem that they had found in the rejuvenation room (ep 135) and suggests destroying it, thus giving them the rest they need. it’s risky, but possible, if it works. caleb pulls it out and the two of them use their remaining magic to do so. the stone shatters and reality briefly cracks, surrounding them in darkness and stillness. But then their vision returns, and they each feel as if they have received the best night’s sleep of their lives. only seconds have passed, instead of 8 hours.
Beau meditates and senses something notice her, so she disconnects and informs the others. However, an eye begins to give chase, so the Nein race back to the surface of the city. But the voice tells them to wait, asking where they are going.This is Gaudius, who can sense the love that has brought them here. While everyone else searches for the Nonagon, Gaudius seeks the Nein. Gaudius wants to bring their love to everyone, to have them all come together, but Fastidan and Culpasi allow their shame and disgust to rule them, seeking to maintain the separation of life in the cosmos. Gaudius asks the Nein to find Fastidan and Culpasi in the Aether Crux and separate them from reality. The Aether Crux is where the Somnovem join together. Fjord convinces Gaudius that the Nein will carry out this request and Gaudius leaves, pleased.
heading to the aether crux, the nein see a red pulsing light. the tunnel gives way to a massive, aorta-like chamber made of errant rock and towers and buildings. In the middle sits a tall column, which holds a bulbous nest of nine faintly glowing orbs, stretched like tendons across the column.
they hear Lucien’s voice from the other side of the chamber. He’s glad they came and thanks the Nein for distracting the Somnovem for him. he has ten glowing intuit charges, pooled into a floating, pulsing pile. He summons a flesh throne for himself to sit upon.
[enter villain monologue] “i invite you to stay for the show, but i think you’d prefer to run”
The intuit charges glow and Jester casts earthquake as the Nein run. The city begins to come down around Lucien, who laughs maniacally. The flashes go off behind the Nein, who are out of range. They can feel the city flex as the Somnovem are bombarded by psychic energy until all is quiet.
The Mighty Nein assess the situation: Lucien’s attack on the Somnovem has critically injured them, but Jester’s attack appears to have slowed him down a bit. Lucien and the nine faintly glowing orbs of the Somnovem float up and out of the Aether Crux, heading topside, so the Nein decide to take the time for a short rest and a heroes feast. jester’s been anxious about getting another one in so she’s relieved that it’s finally happening. all of the nein are now immune to poison and being frightened. (and have advantage on wisdom saving throws as well as 2d10 additional hit points- laura rolled 17) (139)
willing a tunnel into existence, the nein float through it to the surface of the city, where they see a red pulsing cocoon. It peels open and Lucien emerges, with nine stalks protruding from his back – each ending in a red eye. He lifts himself into the sky as the people of Cognouza stare up at him. He speaks to the Nein and beckons them to join him, which they do, flying up above the city.
An intense aerial battle ensues between the Nein and the Nonagon. Jester throws out the arcane field generator to illuminate the anti-magic field, which is emitted by the ninth Somnovem eye, Vigilan.
Even as they fight, the Nein continue to try to reach out to the Molly part of Lucien, with quotes and memories and nicknames. Successes result in Lucien losing Legendary actions and physically twitching, but his anger leads him to taunt the Nein, telling them that Molly is dead and never really existed. Despite charms and slow spells, necrotic damage and fireballs, the Nein continue to whittle away at Lucien and keep each other alive.
Eventually, Lucien decides that he has had enough of fighting this battle alone. He wants to use the city’s full power. He dives down into a hole in the ground, which opens up to accept him. The Nein quickly follow him down, getting healed by Jester and Caduceus. They return to the Aether Crux and see another pulsing cocoon. As they descend, the cocoon breaks open – Lucien appears, but his lower half is now twisted and connected to Cognouza. The red eye stalks are gone and three sets of giant, muscular wings now sprout from his back.
A chaotic battle breaks out immediately. Lucien is able to send the Somnovem’s eye stalks around the room, and even control parts of the city itself; he is now more dangerous than ever. Some of the Somnovem eyes are able to bestow a red eye upon their target as part of their attack, eventually leading to each member of the Nein having at least one eye. (140)
Due to the nature of Cognouza and the Astral Sea, the Nein begin using their imagination to will things into existence to both hurt Lucien and remind him of Molly, summoning glaives, circus tents, and more. they discover that destroying Somnovem eyes hurts Lucien as well.
during this fight, jester is killed. her last words calling out to artagan, hoping he’ll help.
pinned under a building, caleb is pulled free by essek. he stands up, seeing jester’s corpse. crying out her name, he uses the influence of the city to will her closer to caduceus. it works and she appears close to him. he revives her and pulls her into the cover of fjord’s marine layer.
a few rounds later, lucien teleports closer to where everyone is and uses his wing attacks against caleb, killing him.
Finally it is Jester’s turn, and with Caduceus having hit Lucien with path to the grave, she sends out a guiding bolt, telling Molly that she knows he is in there, that he is loved, and that Lucien doesn’t deserve him. As the magic burns him, Lucien physically tears himself in twain. The Neo-Somnovem is defeated.
As the Nein reel from the battle’s end, they begin to hear voices in their minds, thousands of voices all saying the same thing – thank you. They see motes of light floating up and out of the city, lives now able to rest after a thousand years of suffering. Jester and Caduceus race to Caleb’s side. Jester (aided by a finally present Artagan) is able to revive Caleb.
focus is then set on the now dead lucien and the city. caduceus casts decompose, and it take hold..he knows in time the city will rot away to nothing.
there is trepidation, but the nein decide they should at least try to bring molly back. yasha, with help from beau, begin tearing and cutting the body free of the fleshy city. a resurrection ritual begins. yasha, jester, and beau partake.
with an unfortunate natural 1 roll from matt, lucien, or in this case molly, is not brought back.
caduceus decides to try divine intervention. taliesin somehow rolls a 2% and thus it works!! (you have to roll a d100 and get your level or lower for it to work.) “whoever it was, just put it back. i think they deserve it. just put it back.”
and for the first time in 114 episodes, molly - truly molly - is back. he opens his eyes and bolts, confused and with no memory. he repeats “empty” over and over again, just like when yasha first met him at the circus (pre-stream)
yasha tells him that his name is mollymauk tealeaf. he looks at her. “love?”
this is in reference to the tarot deck molly always carried with him. he’d made a card for every member of the mighty nein, yasha’s being love. he then looks around the group, not knowing who they are or their names, but knowing the cards he’d assigned to each of them.
Magician (caleb)
Tinkerer (veth)
Joy (jester)
Sea (fjord)
Rumor (beau)
with some magical paint, jester draws some clothes for molly to wear. yasha gives him his ostentatious coat that she’s kept with her since veth decided to take it from his grave in ep 111.
and with that, the mighty nein, finally NINE, plane shift back to the material plane, to the blooming grove.
and that’s it!! again sorry for the paragraphs. 140 was an insane episode and very emotional. and i’ll be thinking about it for a long time.
until 141 tomorrow! rip me for staying up to watch a 7 hour stream, which i definitely wouldn’t do if it weren’t the finale. i promise jester’s 141 update won’t be this long, but depending on what happens in 7 hours of rp, i have a feeling it’ll still be a decent length.
anyways, shoutout to you if you read all of this. ily
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