thinks about the mighty nein. throws up blood

fjord’s feelings for caduceus changed in episodes 98-99

by which i mean, fjord finally realized how special and important he is to caduceus, which in turn set the tone of their relationship for the rest of the campaign. buckle up, this is a long one.

not when fjord threw away his sword and went to caduceus instead of jester. or when caduceus presented him with the star razor. or after the citadel fight when caduceus gave him his holy symbol. i think things changed for fjord in episode 98-99, when caduceus saved his life and removed the orb.

this is going to require some context.

because here’s the thing: fjord’s always looking for the price, waiting for the catch or other shoe to drop. people caring for him because of him with no strings attached is unprecedented. vandren and the world taught fjord that love is conditional, that only if you hide what others would find ugly and make yourself useful to them will they deign to give you a scrap of affection. i don’t think vandren did this maliciously, mind you, it was just part of his worldview and fjord’s life up to and beyond that point supported it. we can see that right up to the end of the show, where fjord is terrified that vandren didn’t remember him or that he didn’t mean nearly as much to the man as vandren did to him.

so we have fjord, who learned to don masks and hide his truest self, including his best and worst aspects. while fjord made the nein into a coherent group, into a force, a crew, a family, even, he still waited for that other shoe to drop. waited for the day that they would reject him because he was no longer useful or because he pushed them too far. you can see this waiting all over the early campaign; he’s not looking for an excuse like caleb to cut and run but he anticipates nearly all the moments that almost fractured the nein, in spite of that low wisdom score. while jester carried the guilt of not being able to save molly, fjord carried the guilt of not protecting the group in that crucial moment. travis confirmed on talks that fjord’s biggest fear when he lost his powers the first time was that he would no longer be useful and be kicked out of the group. 

that’s why fjord damn near broke down at the end of 72. the nein, no questions asked, with their standard level of snark, accepted that he was going to be a liability and kept him around anyway. armed him anyway. declared that he was no liability and that they would help him along until he could help himself and them again. this unconditional acceptance caught fjord completely off guard. it always does, really. because caduceus had said for months, an out of game half a year, that he was looking to reforge the sword as a gift for fjord. he said this to fjord’s face. he did not change course when he learned that the sword was a legendary blade forged by acolytes of the wildmother and moonweaver. the blade was still meant for fjord, even if fjord was still chained to uk’otoa. fjord extends his love and protection to the nein but is still not convinced the reverse is true. he was starting to believe it but he wasn’t quite there yet.

caduceus has a high enough wisdom to understand that’s fjord’s hang up even if he doesn’t quite understand the reasoning behind it. that’s why he pulls fjord aside in ep 75 and tells him that he doesn’t have to choose the wildmother, that there are other gods and other ideas out there looking for a champion. fjord, who at this point considers wildmom his only option (travis says she’s the only one who’s shown the slightest interest in fjord and that’s why he’s gunning for her), is befuddled by caduceus and this whole talk, so much so the pair end up talking past each other for the next several episodes.

after fjord officially becomes a paladin, things between him and caduceus become fairly...unsettled compared to their previous interactions. they talk past each other more, they aren’t in sync enough to double team those social interactions they were just starting to get good at. things are just weird for a while. to me, that’s fjord waiting for the catch, waiting for caduceus to call in some favor or something like it. and he keeps getting confused when caduceus doesn’t. so he tries once or twice to follow in caduceus’ footsteps and do as he would instead. and it just makes things weirder. these two don’t have a moment together that doesn’t leave one of them confused or unsatisfied until ep 87, when caduceus gives fjord the holy symbol and inadvertently kicks off the next phase of their relationship. because here, caduceus tries to put them back on equal footing and fjord recognizes it. caduceus rejects framing their relationship as mentor/student and tells fjord he doesn’t need caduceus to give him answers. fjord is “well on his way.”

by defining what they aren’t, mentor/student, our two boys inadvertently ask the question, “so what are we?” honestly, it’s a question that the entire group grapples with in the 90s as they reintegrate yasha, as veth struggles with the question of changing back and whether she can stay with the nein, as beau tries to sacrifice herself for veth, as jester learns some uncomfortable truths about the traveler, as caduceus finds his family again. fjord and caduceus can easily define what they aren’t - not mentor/student, not brothers or cousins- but what they actually are stumps both of them.

their relationship doesn't look like any of their relationships with the others: beau is fjord's bro and first mate, caleb is fjord's complicated mirror and admiree, jester his crush and first person he learned to be vulnerable with, veth his antagonistic sibling. on caduceus' side, caleb is the one he looks to for a fellow project nerd and clear, unvarnished goals, beau and jester are the sisters caduceus misses, yasha the quiet beloved barbarian he understands better than the rest, and veth a mess he wants to help but can't. but fjord and caduceus' relationship is highly undefined at this point. notably undefined, beyond their newly shared connection to melora. at the dinner with essek, we get the stone bomb. and travis and fjord panic. like no, seriously, they spend the next four episodes low key panicking over this revelation. this ties back to fjord waiting for those other shoes to drop but it’s also more than that.

when it comes to destiny, fjord has always been the answer, the self made man, to both caduceus and caleb’s questions about destiny. he makes choices about who he is, who he wants to be, and takes actions towards those goals. he is one of those rare people who can wear many different masks, take on many different roles, while still maintaining his sense of self and becoming a fuller version of who he is. when I say fjord is the answer to destiny, what i mean is that he is what ioun said way back in c1 about Fate: mortals make choices and through those choices, destiny is fulfilled. he is the answer to caduceus' own growth from passive instrument waiting for someone to play him to active communicator in this conversation between gods and mortals. in this sense, fjord is what caduceus learns to be (this is exactly why caduceus rejects a mentor role; he has as much to learn from fjord as vice versa).

so for this coincidence to pop up, this idea that maybe fjord only had the illusion of choice to extend his service to the wildmother, that maybe somehow he was manipulated again, that there was some grand destiny pushing things and fjord had no say in it, yeah, i can see why fjord was low-key terrified. so is this what fjord and caduceus are: just some predestined grand fairy tale partnership neither of them have that much say in? episode 96 resoundingly rejects that label too. for one thing, none of the stones or clays treat fjord's last name as anything amazing or spectacular. for another, this string of episodes gives us caduceus at his most human. the terror of not knowing what happened to his family, the uncertainty of his homecoming, the relief of saving his family and home, the irritation at the way the chaos crew treats the temple, the playful attitude caduceus cultivates after, it's all on display. caduceus drops much of his placid exterior and willingly allows the nein to see sheer depth of emotion he has.

which leads me back to episode 98-99. uk’otoa’s agents come for fjord. and caduceus is pissed. travis and ashley both said on talks that they hadn’t really seen taliesin that pissed, that it was like someone had threatened an actual loved one of his. fjord dies. and comes back to an exhausted, still pissed off firbolg who is five seconds away from snapping archmage vess derogna’s head off for interrupting his prayer of healing. taliesin doesn’t even begin to relax until they start interrogating the dead fish people the next day. once caduceus confirms the ball is still in fjord, notably caduceus and caleb were the two who remembered, fjord starts asking for a way to remove it. he asks caduceus to start a commune with wildmom in tandem with jester’s commune with the traveler. caleb tells fjord that caduceus fought “very hard for you while you were down, i don’t know if he’s up to it.” having heard that, caduceus still tries, with his first divine intervention attempt of the campaign. and when jester figures out that greater restoration will work, caduceus pushes through his exhaustion, takes charge, and goes through a truly terrifying greater restoration with fjord to remove the ball. convulsing, seizing, shuddering, collapsing, etc.

in those moments, and in the quiet after when fjord confirms that he still has his powers, it finally hits him that yes, people can protect, fight, and love him for who he is alone. there is no chain or other shoe waiting to be dropped here. the wildmother is no uk’otoa, to punish or take power at a whim. caduceus will fight with everything he has and then some for fjord because he loves him (not for nothing does fjord only realizes the depths of jester’s feelings when she uses heal on him). who are caduceus and fjord to each other? they are people who will fight for one another and the others as far as they can. fjord says over and over again that he wants to protect the nein and look out for them because he cares for them. he demonstrates it over and over again as well. caduceus says basically the same thing; he wants everyone safe and happily on their way and will stay until they are. he demonstrates this all the time as well. this is, i think, the first time that he demonstrates his dedication so unequivocally, free of the artifice of duty, fully committed through love. fjord recognizes this in caduceus and caduceus does in fjord.

i say this is a turning point because, while they don’t really have another super in depth conversation alone together, these two start clocking each other and openly help and look out for each other. there’s an ease and intimacy to the relationship after this. fjord watching caduceus swim near vokodo’s lair, fjord being ready to hand over his armor to caduceus when it looks like his won’t be ready, fjord, caduceus, and beau plotting behind jester’s back to keep her safe from the traveler, the absolute offense fjord takes to eadwulf after he spoke to caduceus like that, fjord levels up in paladin after caduceus tells him he’s proud to know him, all the way to the end of the show when fjord shelters the clerics and tells them to finish lucien, we get little moments like these from both of them. hell, caduceus is the first person in the campaign to tell fjord directly that he loves him.

Drowned Sorrows (Vagrant pt2.)

Caleb settles at the table in your shared room, ink and paper ready to go to work and you grab your stuff making way to leave when Caleb stops you, stepping in your path to the door, arms crossed and eyes burning into you. You try to step around him but he just moves with you until you give up. Apparently He’s adamant on talking.

“What the hell do you want?” You roll your eyes at his childish means from preventing you from leaving the room.

“This has gone on long enough.” Caleb states.

“What has?” You play dumb and Caleb gives you a disapproving look akin to a teacher scolding a student and you could just wring the life out of him for for it. Gods, can he just leave you be?

“You know exactly what.”

“Please, by all means, enlighten me, oh grand master Widogast.” You mock and now it’s Caleb’s turn to roll his eyes. Do you have to be so annoying? Why can’t you just act like an adult?

“If you insist. Why do you run out of the room whenever I study? Why do you feel the need to cringe and cower whenever I do anything even remotely magic related?” Caleb asks as you shake your head biting your tongue. This man… This man has some guts to call you out like he has but you suppose maybe this whole thing between the two of you wouldn’t have been as much of an issue if the two of you could just talk about your issues instead of bottling it up until you burst in moments like these, usually ending in some kind of shouting match followed by the silent treatment until Nott makes you ‘kiss and make up’ like she’s your mom.

“It’s none of your business, Caleb. Now let me out.” You once again try to push past him but he doesn’t let you. “Try me, Widogast or I’ll-“ You threaten but are cut off.

“Do what? You won’t use your magic beyond rudimentary practices. What could you possibly do?” Caleb pushes. You know he’s pushing your buttons, your anger only another means to get answers for himself and you hate yourself for falling for his calculated move but you still do.

“You don’t want to find out, Widogast. It didn’t end well for the last people.” There it is. That’s what he’d been waiting for. Those words alone, that threat is not an empty one. You wouldn’t harm him, not permanently at least but there’s a truth to your words and Caleb knows his calculated move to piss you off is paying off. He’ll have to tread carefully if he wants more answers and not actually provoke your wrath.

Shit. Shit shit shit. ‘It didn’t end well for the last people’. Shit. You didn’t want those words to leave your lips at all. Ever. Stupid Caleb fucking Widogast. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You can’t deal with this right now and try to push him out of the way but Caleb hardly budges. You half contemplate leaving through the window just to make a point but you’d rather not draw that kind of attention to yourself.

“Veiled threats and half truths. Those are a coward’s words who doesn’t intend to make true on their promises.” Oh you’re this far away from kicking his ass.

“Well it takes one to know one.” You hiss. “You might want to think twice. We still share a room and I will not hesitate to smother you with a pillow while you sleep. Now. Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” You feel a tingling in your fingertips, frustration running through your face with just a tiny hint of fear. You ball your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms. Last thing you need is to lose control right now but Caleb doesn’t have to know that.

Caleb steps out of the way, allowing you to pass. He stares you down until you close the door behind you, sharing one last glare before you’re off doing whatever you can to not be in any proximity of that room.

————

Hours later Nott has fallen asleep at the foot of Jester’s bed, the tiefling herself curled up comfortably. Beau’s sprawled out across her own bed limbs dangling off each side as she snores. You’d fallen asleep sitting against Beau’s bed until her hand slapped you in the face rudely pulling you from your not so comfortable sleeping position. You get up and stretch your limbs, cracking your back. Hopefully Caleb will have gone to sleep himself and you’ll be able to make it to your own bed without dealing with the wizard at this late, or rather early hour.

Exiting the girls’ room you see Fjord slumped against the wall near to his room, giggles and moans coming from the room he shares with Mollymauk. This time he had the sense to bring a pillow but Fjord still looked about as comfortable as anyone could be sleeping against the wall of one of the most expensive places in all of Zadash. You contemplated waking him and telling him to take your bed instead but you don’t doubt you’ll lose your comfy bed forever if you switched roommates. Don’t want to set any precedents because in all honesty, rather him than you having to deal with the lavender tiefling living his life to the fullest. Still, you take your cloak, throwing it over the half-orc gently as you move on to your room.

You don’t see any candle light bleeding through the narrow slit beneath the door so you count yourself lucky as you quietly open the door and slide in, tiptoeing over to your bed, putting your things down and beginning to get ready to sleep. You pull the silk covers back and lay down, making yourself comfortable and close your eyes. You can still smell the scent of that fine parchment and ink. You can almost hear the phantom scribbling of a pen over that paper, dipping into the ink vial every so often to replenish. It’s pure torture. The sound needs to stop. The smell needs to go and despite you trying to use some prestidigitation to get rid of the smell, changing it to those overly fragrant flowers at the shop you passed by a few days ago, the smell is still stuck in your nostrils, the sound still trapped in your ears, the damage already done.

You turn over onto your back, pulling the pillow from beneath you and pulling it over your head, releasing a frustrated but soft muffled scream more akin to a sigh into the plush feathers. The darkness behind your eyelids doesn’t help as you feel a vision of a room creep in, one etched into your memory just as that scent and sound are. Accompanied by feelings of pain and fear, desperation and helplessness, is the feeling of being completely and utterly trapped. No matter your tossing and turning, it all remains and the walls close in, sleep couldn’t be further out of your reach. That is until the lights turn on. A gentle orange glow fills the room and you’re pulled away from your memories and back into the room you share with Caleb.

“Would you stop your tossing and turning, please.” Caleb asks groggy, the sound of moving fabrics and endless sighs having awoken him from his own sleep. Caleb turns over to see you sitting, elbows on your bent knees and head in your hands as you try to stabilise your breathing, counting under your breath like its a life line. You may not exactly be friends and quarrel more often than not, that doesn’t mean he can’t be worried for you. Something’s clearly wrong and it doesn’t take an expert to see that.

“Are you alright?” He asks carefully turning to a half seated position to get a better view of you.

“Just go back to sleep, Caleb.” You grumble not moving from your position. No quip back, no witty remark, not even actual annoyance or a half threat to let Jester draw dicks in his precious books. The position you’re in, the traits you’re displaying are also familiar to him. He’s found himself in a similar situation many times and while you may have said it before as an offence, it’s true no less; takes one to know one. You’re reliving trauma, or at least coming back from reliving a traumatic memory of some kind. Triggered by what exactly?

“I’ll go back to sleep when I’m sure I won’t be awoken again every ten minutes.” In other words; talk.

“Piss off.” You spit raising from your bed, reaching for your bag. Instead you find an orange tabby raising it’s back and hissing at you, by the command of his master no doubt. You have half the mind to pick the cat up by the scruff and toss him at the wizard but right now you just want out.

“You can’t keep running away from your problems forever.” The words hit hard. Caleb’s right but why does it sound like a statement not solely directed at you? You know exactly why. You might not exactly have had any bonding moments with Caleb and he’s been shifty about his past but you know the words of someone who tries to deny that same truth themself.

“It seems to work just perfectly for you. Hypocrite.” It sounded like a curse. Hypocrite. Caleb had known for a long time but having it thrown so bluntly at his face, it hurt. He doesn’t lash out in anger or hit back with an equally venomous retort but instead just stares at you with pity. He really does pity you. He may not know the story but he knows that pain and no one should have to endure that. Still it’s your choice to keep it to yourself. It’s your choice to keep it all bottled up and locked away. No matter what he says, or does for that matter, he can’t change your mind, or even help you despite your differences, if you don’t allow anyone in, regardless of your like, or dislike in his case, for the person. He can’t help someone who won’t help themselves. And that’s exactly what makes him the biggest hypocrite here. His pain is his punishment.

“Where are you going?” Caleb asks as you push Frumpkin aside just enough to reach for your coin pouch, the cat hissing and clawing at your hands until he falls silent again. You open the door looking back one last time.

“To find a rooftop with a good view and drown my sorrows.” You close the door behind you and do exactly that. A bottle or two of good booze acquired and a nice rooftop found. The view would have been nice weren’t it cloudy. Halfway through your first bottle the gods decided to shit in your dish by the sound of rolling thunder and rain pouring down from the skies by the buckets, drenching you to the bone in a matter of seconds. You debated going back inside but you’re stubborn and stayed on that rooftop watching the water spill over the drains until you were shaking from the cold. Maybe suffering from hypothermia isn’t worth making a statement.

widobrave week day 3: flowers

1.

They're travelling in the rain, using it as cover, when Nott notices the flowers. They're partially hidden by the tall grass at the side of the road, and only someone of her stature would be likely to notice them – they're a kind of pale yellow most would dismiss, but Nott regards fondly. 

Sneaking a look at her companion, who's walking steadily but a bit slumped over, Nott darts over to the flowers and grabs a handful. It's been a long time, but one of the only nice things about being stuck in this horrible, nasty, alien form is that her fingers are smaller and definitely more deft than they ever were as Veth. 

Caleb doesn't ask until they're a long way down the road. When he finally brings it up, his voice is hesitant, as if he's afraid he's intruding. 

"Nott the Brave, I see that you have been– ah, fiddling, with something, for some time now–"

"Oh, this?" Nott asks. She holds up the mess she's made of the flowers. They certainly stick together (mostly because of the wire she slipped in,and the rain that dripped onto it despite her best efforts), although the petals have gotten a bit mangled and soggy. 

She holds the crown up to Caleb. "It's for you," she says shyly. "For good luck."

He takes it, and turns it over in his hands for a moment. For a moment, Nott thinks she spots his mouth turning up at the corners before his expression returns to its normal vaguely depressed neutrality.

Caleb places it gently on his head, and the yellow blossoms stand out nicely against his grimy hair. Nott grins at him, pleased.

"Thank you," he says, sounding touched.

"No problem!" 

2.

"For good luck!" Nott exclaims, jumping up onto the inn's table and slotting a bright pink flower behind Caleb's ear. She grins at him and jumps down, running back out of the room before he can react properly. 

Beau, sitting across the table, stifles a giggle at Caleb's poorly disguised startle. He flushes a bit, and adjusts the flower so that it won't fall out.

"She does that," he mutters. "It's..." 

It’s what? endearing? adorable? more than he deserves? something he can't stop thinking about?

"...nice."

Beau laughs freely this time. "Whatever you say, man. Are you gonna finish that?" 

Caleb pushes his half-finished drink over to her. He should not get more tipsy tonight.

He tries to make an excuse as he stands up from the table, but all that comes out is, "I am... heading to bed, Beauregard. Have a nice evening." 

"Bye," Beau says, still visibly amused. She stands up, too, and wanders across the room to where Jester and Yasha are whispering to each other. Caleb passes out of the room before he sees her sit down. 

He should talk to Yasha about getting a pressed flower book for himself, he thinks, and then half-buries the thought and all its implications in his mind.

3. 

Caduceus wakes up early to the sound of his and Fjord's door creaking open. He can't tell what time it is exactly, but the light coming in the porthole is faint, and the sensation of waves rocking the floor he stands on is nearly nonexistent, as it never is after sunrise, so it must be pre-dawn.

Grabbing his staff from its position beside his hammock, he bemoans his lack of darkvision. 

"Who's there?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

"It's me!" comes the response from the darkness, and Caduceus relaxes. 

"Rather early in the morning, isn't it, Nott?" he asks. She must need something, to come into their room at this hour, and he takes a moment to sigh internally before climbing out of bed, slipping on his fuzzy slippers – a gift from Jester – and standing.

Peering towards the door, Caduceus can make out the gleam of reflected light from Nott's eyes a few feet away.

"I need flowers," Nott says without further prompting. 

Caduceus tilts his head at her curiously, but doesn’t ask. “Well,” he rumbles, “I happened to pick some up from that last island we stopped at, and so did Ya—”

“Can I have them?”

Caduceus decides he’s too tired to keep up with Nott’s enigmatic personality this morning, and shuffles over to his things to dig out the blue sprigs. He tries to be quiet in order to keep from waking Fjord up, but several things fall and rattle as he searches. 

“Here,” he says finally, turning and giving the small bouquet to Nott. She flashes a grin at him and dashes out of the room in the time it takes Caduceus to blink.

“Thanks!” she yells behind her, and Caduceus sighs as he watches Fjord stir in his hammock.

-

Caleb wakes up in the late morning to blue flowers woven through his hair and a note tucked in his hand that says, in messy but readable handwriting, ‘sorry. looked like you were having a bad night. hope these help your luck.’

He smiles.  

4. 

During one of their weeks of rest, on an evening where their whole group is hanging out in the common room, Nott sidles closer to Caleb. She hops up on the back of his chair, balancing precariously. 

“What—” Caleb starts, and then feels her fingers run through his hair. She’s done this before, but rarely, and it has been a long while. As the tangles are tugged out, he relaxes despite himself and the group’s eyes suddenly on them. 

“Aww,” coos Jester, and then, as Nott starts to weave in the flowers, “Ooh!” 

Jester bounces a little, knocking into Beau sitting next to her. “Can you do me next? Please?”

“Sure!” Nott chirps. “They’re good luck.” She speeds up her braiding, and Caleb feels her leaving a few more gaps than she normally would in her haste. 

After a preciously short while, Nott leaps down from her perch. She pulls another handful of flowers out of her pocket while she runs over to climb onto the couch next to Jester, taking the opportunity to step on Fjord’s toes as she goes. He yelps and pulls his legs back, a few moments too late.

Caleb turns away, and tries to ignore the flame of jealousy threatening to devour him. He already got his flowers, and perhaps only Yeza before him, but that makes the fire worse, and he has to think about something else.

Frumpkin leaps up into his lap at the barest telepathic nudge, and Caleb buries his face in the fey cat’s fur (trying not to muss his hair) while nobody is paying attention to him. He is a truly stupid man, isn’t he.

5. 

Nott stops Caleb, before they head back up the stairs of Essek’s house with their friends. She tugs on his sleeve, and takes out the handful of flowers she saved from their last trip out of Xhorhaus, placing them gently in his large hand.

“For good luck.” She says, trying to keep a grin on her face for him. This might be the last time she’ll have the opportunity to give him flowers; to protect him, however symbolically, from terrors real and imagined and remembered in his sleep. 

Caleb takes the bundle and tucks it behind his ear almost absentmindedly, catching her gaze and not looking away. 

“Nott- Veth- flowers could never be enough to keep my luck fair when you’re not there beside me,” Caleb says, kneeling on the stairs so he can look into Nott’s eyes more closely. “I won’t stop you from leaving, if this works, but I do— I do wish you’d stay.”

Nott glances away. “I— we’ll see,” is all she manages to say. Caleb can almost always see what she’s thinking, know what’s wrong at a glance; it’s usually comforting, but lately it's been terrifying. She swallows, trying to summon the last of the courage her latest nip of alcohol gave her, and starts up the stairs again.

“Let’s do this.”

+1.

"One more thing," Caleb says nervously. "Or–two, sort of, but–"

"What?" Nott asks patiently. She takes her leg back out of Marion's bathtub, turning to face him once more. 

Caleb shifts his kneeling stance so he can reach his largest pocket. He pulls out the crown without having to look at it; he's been rehearsing this for days. 

It's a full, beautiful thing– it took Caleb nearly two hours at the florist to figure out what he wanted. Said florist had tried to educate him on meanings, but Caleb knew No–Veth– wasn't likely to care. 

The flowers –roses, daffodils, orchids, you name it– are mainly yellow, red, and orange, but there are small blue blooms tucked in here and there, and the bottom is flush with warm green leaves. 

Jester makes a noise of awe somewhere behind his back, and he hears with unfortunate acuteness Yasha's intake of breath. 

Praying that neither will make a scene, he places it on her head and adjusts it tenderly, keeping his eyes locked on hers although he knows his face is letting her see all the things he could never say out loud.

"For good luck," he says.

When she emerges, an hour later, glowing and happier than Caleb has ever seen her, she’s still wearing it.

[Critical Role] Coming Clean

Universe: Critical Role, Campaign Two, Set in the Xhorhouse Characters: Caleb Widogast/Caduceus Clay Rating: K+ Description: Caduceus only meant to help Caleb to relax. He hadn’t known it would lead to something surprising for the both of them.

It's not hard to coax Caleb out of his research room. One simply has to have the right timing. Such as late at night, when the rest of the Mighty Nein are asleep in their beds and not prone to being nosy. When Caleb has spent far too long awake, nose pressed to his books, determined to glean every last bit of information from every last page. When he's skipped dinner because he didn't want to lose his place, but mindlessly snacked from a plate Nott left by his elbow. He's predictable, their wizard is, and Caduceus finds there's a certain comfort in predictability.

Caduceus hums as he fixes up a tray, placing a pot of tea and two cups upon it, along with a plate of heartier snacks. The tea is a special blend -- the Temis' he thinks -- one that tastes better once it's cooled, which means it'll be perfect for an afterbath meal. Caleb works hard, far too hard, and doesn't care for himself in the manner he should. Caduceus understands that there are reasons, things which weigh heavily on Caleb's heart and conscience. But Caleb lets those things swallow him up, inform too many of his decisions, and he wallows like a pig in the sty. He needs to get out of his own head, and Caduceus means to help him do just that. He picks up the tray, and at the last minute, adds a small vase with a few cut flowers from his personal garden, just to give it a splash of color. Caleb will appreciate that, he thinks. Caleb is one to notice the little things. The Xhorhouse is still and quiet. Nott and Yeza retired early, and Caduceus is no longer so naive as to be confused why, he's simply glad for them. Yasha is on her balcony, sword balanced across her knees, staring into the night sky, perhaps hoping for a storm. Jester and Beau are both asleep; Caduceus had paused outside their room, heard Beau's telltale snoring, and Jester's quiet murmur of sleep-talking. Fjord's asleep in the common room, knocked out on a couch, one arm dangling off the side. He’d had a book on his chest, but Caduceus had gently extracted it, saved Fjord's place, and covered the half-orc with a blanket. Lastly, Caleb is in his research room, burning the past midnight oil, and in need of a break and relaxation and some stress relief. The trick will be to convince Caleb he is in need of them as well. Caduceus shifts the tray to one hand and raps his knuckles against the door. There's a moment of startled pause before Caleb's voice comes through the wood. "Yes?" "Pardon the intrusion, Mr. Caleb," Caduceus says as he slips inside, balancing the tray with care. "I thought I might convince you to take a break and join me in the bath. I think it'll do you some good." Caleb rises from behind his desk, sleeves pushed up to reveal the scars on his arms, coat shucked aside, hair loose around his face, dark circles under his eyes. "No matter what Jester tells you, I bathe on the regular now, Mr. Clay." Caduceus chuckles and rests the tray on the desk, hoping the enticing aroma will waft Caleb's direction. "I meant a soak will relax you, not that you are dirty." "Oh. I see." Caleb's gaze slants toward the tray. "You brought this for me?" "For us to share." Caduceus holds up a hand. "But only after a soak. They are best eaten when one is at ease." Caleb chuckles, quiet and dry, and it's such a rare sound Caduceus' chest blooms with a delighted heat. "Very well. If you're going to bribe me, then I suppose I have no choice." Caleb casts a glance at his work before purposefully moving around the desk, rolling his sleeves back over his arms. "To the bath then." Caduceus grins widely. He picks up the tray once more and follows Caleb through the Xhorhouse, to the bath they've installed for their own use. There's something to be said about a private bath. It's always clean and fragrant and only needs a touch of magic to be the perfect temperature. The privacy is also nice, though Caduceus has never bothered much with modesty. A body is a body, what's there to be concerned over? He sets the tray on a shelf and starts to disrobe, throwing his clothes over a nearby chair. Caleb is much more neat about it, removing each article and folding it. He's lean and pale, arms striped in scars, and others across his body. There's a knotted one on his chest which looks as though he's been impaled, and countless signs of battle. His skin is a landscape of struggle, and Caduceus finds himself curious of the stories behind each one. He looks down at himself. He'd been pristine once. Unmarked. Now the evidence of an adventuring life has started spreading across his own skin. The pucker of burns from Nott's exploding arrow. The long, thin lines of claw marks. Little knots where contusions have left permanent bumps. The only injuries which haven't left visible scars are the times of near-drowning. Those scars he feels in a thick smoke or when panting from exertion, when his lungs threaten to seize, and he’s taken by a coughing fit. His ear twitches at a faint splash. Caduceus looks up in time to catch Caleb sinking beneath the water, until it laps at his shoulders. His face reddens from the heat, his freckles standing out in sharp relief. He emits a soft sigh, the lines of stress in his face and across his shoulders starting to loosen. "You were right, Mr. Clay. Sometimes a break is necessary." Caleb splashes his face with water, scrubbing around his nose and brow and chin especially, where new growth peppers his jawline. Caduceus smiles and grabs a bar of soap before he joins Caleb in the water. "I find a calm mind often opens new avenues we may not have seen before." "Very true, though a calm mind is something I rarely have." Darkness shades Caleb's face for a moment. He ducks his head under the water, soaking his hair, before he rises again, pushing it up and out of his face. Caduceus hums and rubs his fingers over the soap. "You just need to learn to relax," he says, and he tilts his head. "I could help, if you want." Caleb blinks at him, and red paints the bridge of his nose and the top of his cheeks. "Eh, help? I don't... um... " "I could wash your hair," Caduceus clarifies, gesturing with the soap. Sometimes, he thinks every member of the Mighty Nein doesn't get enough physical intimacy, something he himself has been missing since the last of his family left. "My sister says I give great scalp massages." "Oh. Yes. That makes sense." Caleb coughs into his hand, and the tips of his ears turn a bright red. Perhaps the water is too hot. He stands, the water swirling just above his hipbones, and comes closer to Caduceus before turning to present his back, and a new array of scars and bruises. He heals so slowly, despite the magic they pump into him. He’s the squishiest member of the Mighty Nein, according to the others, and times like these, Caduceus agrees. Though he is not by far the weakest. Truthfully, Caduceus does not see any member as a weak link. They all have their skills and talents most useful in particular situations. Just as they all have their weaknesses where they must rely on one another to overcome them.. “Let me know if I hurt you,” Caduceus says as he lathers up the soap and threads sudsy fingers through Caleb’s hair. Standing, he’s a good two heads taller than Caleb, so it’s no trouble to work a good lather into the ginger strands. A low groan is Caleb’s response, but it’s not one of pain so Caduceus grins and rubs his blunt fingernails over Caleb’s scalp. A shiver runs across Caleb’s skin, but it can’t be because of the water’s temperature. Low curls of steam rise from the surface, bringing with them the fragrance of the oils Jester keeps dumping into the water. “This is far from pain, mein freund.” Caduceus chuckles as Caleb leans back toward him, body going visibly limp. “That’s what I want to hear.” Caleb hums, a sound not unlike Frumpkin’s purring, and tilts his head into Caduceus’ fingers. He lapses into silence, a companionable one, occasionally sighing with satisfaction as Caduceus finds a particularly troublesome spot. He scrubs his fingers lower, scratching through the finer hairs beneath the longer strands, and Caleb’s head tilts forward, exposing his nape. There are more scars here, hidden behind Caleb’s hair. Whisper-thin lines. What could have caused these, Caduceus wonders. He doesn’t dare ask. He’s worked too hard to encourage Caleb to relax. Queries about scars turn into reminders about the pain which caused them, and might cause Caleb to tense all over again. Caduceus files them away for another day. “Still okay?” Caduceus asks. Caleb groans, soft and quiet. “Your sister was right.” Caduceus laughs and his fingers drift lower, massaging at Caleb’s nape before fluttering out across the top of his shoulders, thumbs digging into knotted muscle. Caleb turns to jelly beneath him, and Caduceus chuckles again, pausing and resting his hands on Caleb’s shoulders. “Careful now. Wouldn’t want you to sink into the water and drown.” Caduceus takes a step back, finds the underwater shelf and sits, his tail flicking to drape across his thigh. He pulls Caleb back another step, between his knees, and resumes massaging the tense upper shoulders. They are of a height with Caduceus seated, and sudsy water dribbles from Caleb’s soapy hair. “I may fall asleep like this, Mr. Clay,” Caleb murmurs, and there’s a sleepy, unguarded quality to his voice that fills Caduceus with pride. “Then I’m doing my job right.” Caduceus finds a particularly stubborn knot and digs the heel of his thumb into it, until it unfurls beneath him and tension melts out of Caleb’s body. “Schiesse, that hurts,” Caleb says, and he grabs Caduceus’ knees under the water, fingers digging in as if to hold himself upright. “A good kind of hurt though, right?” Caleb sways back toward him. “Ja, it is.” Caduceus grins and grabs his shoulders, holding him in place. “Might wanna dip down real quick, Mr. Caleb, before that soap gets in your eyes.” “Yes. Of course.” Caleb hums to himself as he sinks below the surface for a moment, and then rises again, water cascading across his bare skin in a bubbly fall. It’s fascinating, to watch the various trails the water takes, before Caduceus shakes himself out of distraction and gets back to work. He gets lost in his own head sometimes. Less so, now that he has people to speak to rather than himself, but every once in a while, old habits rise up. Caduceus buries his fingers in Caleb’s hair, working the soap from the silky strands, fingers dragging behind Caleb’s ear to get a few stubborn soap-slicks. “One more time,” Caduceus says. Caleb nods and dips down, long enough for Caduceus to help him rinse the last of the soap free, before he stands again. He wobbles briefly, catching himself once more on Caduceus’ knees, until he catches his balance. “Better?” Caduceus asks. “Much.” Caleb drags his fingers through his own hair, scraping it back from his face, behind his ears. He draws in a long, steadying breath, and the air around him lacks the distinct tension he tends to carry like a physical weight. He looks younger, less burdened by the pain he carries. Caleb is a handsome human on his own, but relaxed and soft like this seems to make him seem even more so. “Good.” Caduceus sweeps up his own hair, pulling it over his shoulder, finger-combing it in preparation for washing. “You have my thanks,” Caleb says as he turns to face Caduceus, his lips pulled into a gentle smile, mouth still framed by a shadow of scruff. “And you were right. I did need this. You always seem to know these kinds of things.” “People’s needs aren’t all that complicated. It’s not hard to guess,” Caduceus says, reaching for the soap, but Caleb’s hand closes gently over his, warm from the bath, a few scars roughing the skin of his fingers. “Allow me,” Caleb says, slipping the soap out of reach. “It’s only fair.” “If you insist.” Caduceus leans forward, so that it is easier for Caleb to reach, and hums when a cupful of water splashes over his head and hair, trickling down the sides of his face. There’s something soothing about the slide of water over skin, something meditative. Caleb's hands then sink into his hair, and Caduceus melts, a groan rising in his chest. Caleb is gentle as he scrubs around the base of Caduceus' ears, but firm when he drags his blunt fingernails against Caduceus' scalp. He works a fine lather, the floral scent of lilac and berry filling the air around them, mingling with the oils of the bath. Caduceus hums a satisfied noise as Caleb breathes a laugh, smoothing the pads of his fingers into the base of Caduceus' head before dragging them up again. "It seems I am not unskilled myself," Caleb says. Caduceus smiles though Caleb can't see it behind the curtain of pink hair. "You have very talented hands," he agrees, and sinks a little further, surrendering to the relaxing scrub of Caleb's fingers, especially as they scratch through his undercut. "It is good to know they are useful for more than burning things," Caleb says, his tone light and offhand, but an edge of self-deprecation beneath. "We are the sum of our parts," Caduceus says slowly, taking care to choose his words, lest Caleb flee and shatter the moment. "And we're all capable of great deeds as well as terrible ones." "Yes. This is true." Caleb's hands wander around the base of Caduceus' ears, ever so gently, and Caduceus sighs happily. There's nothing quite like the soft touch of another in such a delicate spot. It never produces the same result as scratching them himself. "This is a good spot then, ja?" "Yeah." Caduceus' head sinks a little further, baring his nape entirely. Caleb hums a laugh. "Good to know." He gives the ears another gentle rub before his hands remove themselves. "Close your eyes, Mr. Clay. Time to rinse." He obeys and focuses on sensation as warm water courses over his head and hair, dripping down with suds, splashing into the water beneath him. Caleb works each cupful through his hair, until there's not a trace of soap remaining. By Melora, Caduceus shall sleep well tonight. "There. I think I've got it all." Caleb gathers up Caduceus' hair, twisting it into a loose braid off to the side. Caduceus waits for the last few drips to leave his brow before he opens his eyes and straightens, Caleb's fingers tucking the last of the braid in place. "If not, a little soap never hurt anyone," Caduceus says. Caleb chuckles. "Yes, so Jester tells me. Frequently." He cards fingers through his own hair, no longer slicked down to his head, and he gives Caduceus a suddenly keen look. "Mr. Clay, I am going to do something, and if it's not... eh... acceptable, please tell me." Caduceus tilts his head to the side a bit, the braid slipping over his shoulder. "All right." Caleb nods, as if to himself, and his tongue flicks over his bottom lip. He brushes a strand of hair from Caduceus' forehead -- escaped from the braid -- and he leans in. It takes a moment for Caduceus to connect the dots, to read Caleb's intent, before their mouths collide, and Caleb kisses him, his lips chapped and warm. He rests one hand on Caduceus' knee, the other on his shoulder, to brace himself. The kiss is gentle at first, a bare brush of lips, but when Caduceus doesn't immediately pull away, Caleb returns with a firmer pressure, a flick of his tongue to the seam of Caduceus' lips. It’s brief and testing and over far too soon. Caleb pulls back. There is wariness in his eyes, and the red flush has reappeared on his nose and cheeks and the tips of his ears. Caduceus licks his lips, which seem to tingle in the aftermath, echoing with the slight scrape of Caleb's mouth against his. "Was that all right?" Caleb asks. Caduceus examines the warmth flooding his belly, the flush of joy and satisfaction spreading out from his thumping heart. "Yeah," he says, and he smiles. "That was nice." "Nice?" "Well, to be honest Mr. Caleb, I don't have many points of comparison," Caduceus admits, though his inexperience isn’t something to be ashamed of. He's aware, however, that it might provide some clarification. "I did enjoy it." Caleb blinks, and then laughs, quiet and genuine. He briefly knocks their foreheads together. "I suppose as long as I haven't offended, then I'm okay with 'nice'." "No offense," Caduceus reassures, and the wariness in Caleb's eyes still concerns him. "But you know, Mr. Caleb, you don't have to -- I mean, I offered this because I care for your well-being. Don't think you owe me anything in return." Caleb squints, his brow furrowing. "You think I kissed you out of no real desire?" Again, his inexperience betrays him. Caduceus steadies himself with a long, slow breath. "I don't know. I'm not very good at this." "I've noticed." Caleb squeezes the back of his own neck, a touch of tension returning to him, ruining all of Caduceus’ hard work. "To be fair, neither am I. It's been a long time since I've allowed myself to have interest and express it. It's no secret that I'm a mess and I probably shouldn't, but..." He trails off, shakes his head, and his weight shifts away from Caduceus. He captures Caleb's hand before the wizard can fully turn, threading their fingers together. "We're all a mess," Caduceus says, because it's true. The Mighty Nein is composed of broken people, but all their edges fit together and make a functional whole. "You don't know the things I've done," Caleb murmurs, and there's something aching in his voice, something dark in his eyes. Caduceus needn’t even feel the hum of warmth at the nape of his neck, the whispered caution Melora offers him, because he’s well aware. "True. But I know the things you're doing, and some of the things you're trying to do, and that's good enough for me." He brushes his lips over Calebs knuckles, tastes the spiderweb thin scars. "I can't fix you. Only you can do that. But I can hold your hand if you'd like." Caleb sighs. "You are too good for us, Caduceus." The sound of his name on Caleb's lips makes a quiet joy bubble in his heart. "I don't think there's such a thing." Caduceus kisses Caleb's knuckles again before laying his other hand over it, sandwiching Caleb's between his. "Now we should enjoy the tea and snacks." As if hearing Caduceus and wishing to agree, Caleb's stomach audibly growls. He covers his face behind his palm. Caduceus chuckles. "Or maybe something more substantial." "No, no. I'm sure what we have here is fine." Caleb backs away, untangles his fingers, and clambers out of the bath, water streaming behind him. Caduceus averts his gaze, because it seems the thing to do, until the swish of a robe settles around Caleb's body. Only then does Caduceus climb out as well, twitching his tail to flick away excess moisture. Caleb, he notices, stares boldly at him. Not that it dissuades Caduceus in the least. He stands there dripping, letting Caleb look his fill, before the wizard fumbles for a robe and thrusts it Caduceus' direction. "You never cease to surprise," Caleb says. Caduceus laughs. "Are you referring to my behavior or my physique?" "Both." Caleb's voice has a ring of humor to it, teasing. He’s not filling the air with self-deprecation, so Caduceus considers that a win. Caleb sweeps up the tray before Caduceus can, pot and cups and plate rattling upon it. “What do you think? To the kitchen? The dining room? The--” He pauses to wrinkle his nose in an adorable expression which cuts years off his face. “--happy room?” Caduceus chuckles and squeezes the last of the water from his hair. He gathers up their clothes in each arm. “The kitchen. Easier to leave the dishes in the sink when we’re done.” “I’ve never known you to leave the dishes in the sink.” “Why save for tomorrow what I can do today?” Caleb tosses a smile over his shoulder, and something flutters warm and happy in Caduceus’ belly. “That sounds exactly like something you’d say.” “Well, I did just say it.” Caleb laughs, and it’s irrepressibly charming. They set up in the kitchen, around the small table that is really only sized for two as they tend to take their meals in the dining room. It’s quiet and intimate, and Caduceus soaks up the companionship as he sips his tea and leaves the snacks for Caleb. “You know, Mr. Caleb,” Caduceus says as savors the sweetness of the tea, “It doesn’t have to be anything more than this, if you’re worried. I’m not in any hurry, and we’ve got a lot of things on our plate to add complications.” Caleb wipes a crumb from the corner of his mouth and fiddles with the handle of his tea cup. “It would not bother you?” “It is what it is, not a burden or a stress, but a source of comfort and joy without expectations,” Caduceus says as he lowers his tea to the table, resting his hands around the cup. Caleb is silent a moment, contemplating the shade of his tea perhaps, hiding behind the cup, before he nods as if confirming something to himself. “All right,” he says. “That is fair and reasonable.” He smiles and rakes hair out of his eyes. “Would you feel better if we had a contract?” Caduceus teases, and is delighted by the flush of pink spreading over Caleb’s face. He snorts a laugh and puts down his empty teacup, swiping the last cookie from the plate. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” Caleb stands and circles the table, leaning in toward Caduceus. “I do, however, think I should sleep now.” Caduceus lifts his chin, looks up at Caleb, and chuckles as a few crumbs hangs on the corner of Caleb’s mouth. He sweeps them away with the pad of his thumb. “Sleep well,” Caduceus says. “I think I will. For once.” Caleb leans in, brushing their lips together, and Caduceus hums into the kiss, the faint scent of tea and cookies flavoring it. “Goodnight,” Caleb murmurs with a parting kiss to Caduceus’ brow, and then he’s gone, munching on the last of the cookies as he leaves. Caduceus finishes his tea, gathers up the dishes, and sets them in the sink. He contemplates leaving them for a brief second before he realizes he can’t, and washes them first. He chuckles to himself, thinking of Caleb commenting on it, and touches his chest where a warm blossom of unexpected delight has taken up residence. This is not the way he expected his night to have gone, but he’s not disappointed either. Life is an unexpected, complicated series of little moments, and while he might not know where this one is heading, he has faith it will take him to wonderful things.

****

a/n: I’d love to know what everyone thinks! This is my first time writing this pairing. :)

I don’t have a lot of reactions for tonight’s CR episode, just general joy and excitement (and intense gratitude that Matt ended things early because I am SO TIRED tonight), but I’ve started doing post-ep reactions so I might as well do one now.

SUPER into Fjord’s literal everything, from the threat of disappearing warlock powers to the half-orc bonding sesh to the pressing, needling pursuit of whatever gods he can learn about.  Also I will bet cash monies that he doesn’t tell any of the M9 about the midnight disappearing powers until and unless circumstances conspire to make it an issue or they force it out of him--and it’s not because Fjord doesn’t trust them, exactly, it’s because he doesn’t know how not to front like he’s got his shit together.  I strongly suspect that half the time that front is the only thing holding him together.  I love how we’re seeing that facade bristle and then melt, just a little bit, with Wursh, at the same time we get it in a completely different context with the U’kotoa thing.

And I’m really excited about the house.  I’m excited about the house.

I’m excited that they have a place here, a home as a group.  There was a post I saw a couple of days ago (that I should’ve reblogged, damnit) talking about the importance of home bases  in fiction, and CR1 used them (and threatened to destroy them!) to such great effect in Greyskull and Whitestone.  I’m thrilled to have something with that feel of stability and permanence for these drifter kids now.  I want to see them begin to feel safe with a place and with each other (and then I want to see it in danger, because that’s where the best bits of story always come from).

And I’m even more excited, way more excited, to watch how the group takes to that offer of stability and permanence, because they’re still edging around it like feral cats whose ears never stop twitching.  They’re being offered a place and a life, and they’re playing along, for now, wary and looking for any reason to bolt.  Nott is all torn up between her husband and her friends and her newfound life and agency and quest and the people she feels responsible to and her son, all at once, and meanwhile Caleb is shaving and buying a new wardrobe and ready to move in.  Beau is twitchy with doubt and divided loyalties.  Caduceus is just happy to be invited, but he’s also got a home to go back and all this is just a pause in the road.  Yasha isn’t even sure how she feels about Xhorhas.  Fjord is too busy with the whole rest of his life falling apart to even really have a decision yet on how he feels about this Welcome To Your New Home thing (but Fjord is ready to jump ship to any god who’ll have him, and if the priests of the Luxon have anything useful for him, he might just be happy to stay after all.)

Cannot wait for the rest week montage next week.  The M9 do absolutely get a lot more down time than VM had, though maybe it’s just that they’ve been a lower level, with slower travel and less desperate foes around the corner so far.  I value it so much.  Who they are when they have the chance to breathe matters.

(Also if they have a week to hang around, Dairon may very well have a chance to show up before shit goes down again, and I cannot fucking WAIT for THAT encounter.  Fuck yes character conflict.)

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Caleb Widogast, Nott (Critical Role), Fjord (Critical Role), Beauregard Lionett, Caduceus Clay, Jester Lavorre, Yasha (Critical Role) Additional Tags: zemnian, Child games, family abduction, goblins mentioned, nothing explicit though, Original Character(s), more focused on Caleb and Nott and the oc Series: Part 4 of Zemnian Roots Summary:

The Mighty Nein find a little girl hiding in a closet in a ransacked home. Only problem is that she only speaks Zeminan, which means that Caleb has to find a way to entertain her while the others look for her family.

On days like these, Caleb really wished for their moorbounders to return. They had been on the road for hours, since the early morning, and the horses they had rented were just so much slower. It was still better than walking, especially in the heat, but it wasn't like the weather didn't affect the horses as well.

To make his day even worse, they were travelling on the outskirts of the Zemni Fields, had been for a while for their mission, and even though they were nowhere near the place where he grew up, it was putting him on edge. So far they had barely run into any other people though, and most of the few who did cross their path were travellers as well.

A voice from the front of their little troop brought him back to the moment, and not surprisingly, it was Jester who disturbed the weary silence they'd been riding in for the last half an hour or so. “Look Fjord, there's a farm ahead! Maybe they'll let us spend the night there, that would be a lot better than sleeping in the hut again.”

Fjord, who looked about as mentally present as Caleb had been, startled slightly, sending his horse involuntarily to the left. Getting back to his former position he looked ahead, finally noticing the old farmhouse as well. “Oh, yeah, sure. We could ask, at least.” Turning his head, he looked to everyone else in the group. “What do you guys think, should we stop for the night already?”

“Sure, why not,” Caduceus chimed in. “If not for the seven of us, at least the horses deserve a good night's rest.”

The rest of them mostly shrugged in answer or gave half hearted murmurs of agreement, which was apparently good enough for Jester. With some newfound vigor they all picked up their speed again, and the farm that had only been a little spot at the horizon so far quickly came closer.

When they finally reached it, Fjord was the first one off his horse. “Alright, I'm gonna ask if they got space for us and the horses, anyone wanna come?”

“Take Caleb with you, just in case they don't speak Common,” Beau told them, getting off as well before helping Jester (who didn't actually need help, but definitely seemed to appreciate it anyway).

“Good point,” Fjord agreed, stopping again to wait for Caleb now.

The wizard gave a soft sigh but nodded. “I, ah, alright. Sure. I guess I can come. But just so you know, it is improbable that the people here only speak Zemnian.”

“Still, can't hurt to have a local with me,” Fjord told him with a grin, and then lead the way to what looked to be the front door.

Only as they stepped closer did they realise that the door wasn't closed. It stood slightly ajar, not far enough for either of them to look inside yet though. Fjord frowned and looked back to Caleb, who placed a hand on his component pouch and gave a slight nod.

“Yeah, I thought it was a bit quiet,” Fjord muttered, taking another step closer and pushing the door open completely. “Hello?” he called out. “Anyone in here?”

When even waiting several seconds didn't reward them with a reply, they walked in. And the sight that greeted them wasn't pretty.

The door lead into a small hallway, but from their current position they could already see into the next two rooms, one a kitchen with a dining area, a big table that would easily seat more than the seven of them, and the other something more akin to a living room. Both rooms were completely ransacked.

Chairs were pushed over, every cabinet door opened, every shelf empty. The ground was littered with broken glass and porcelain, and what looked to be food stains everywhere.

They both started to move through the mess slowly, not sure if whoever had done this was still around. But really, they hadn't been quiet in their arrival. Caleb was pretty sure that, if anything wanted to attack them, it would have done so by now.

Fjord stopped by a red stain near the living room door, and it didn't take him long to confirm what Caleb had feared. “It's blood,” the half-orc told him. “It's not even completely dry yet... whatever happened, it happened recently.”

“We should get the others,” Caleb suggested. “Maybe we can find out more. And I don't think the attackers are still around, but still... safety in numbers, and all that.”

“You're not wrong,” Fjord agreed with a sigh. “Alright, let's go. I would like to help these people, if we still stand a chance.”

A few minutes later they had told the rest of the group what was going on, and were now split up throughout the house to look for anything useful. Beau and Nott hadn't been stoked about the idea of trying to help, arguing that they didn't even know if there was anyone left they could help, but they'd all known that their protest was token at best.

Caleb was looking for any magical means of destruction downstairs, when two screams suddenly rang from the room directly above him. One of them sounded suspiciously like Nott, and he immediately turned and ran up the stairs, hearing the others who had been downstairs with him right behind.

“Nott!” He pushed into the room first, seeing her frozen in front of a closet, both hands holding the door shut. “Nott, what's going on?” he asked, seeing how pale she suddenly looked and now also hearing the muffled screaming and crying that came from inside the closet.

“What's in there?” Beau asked, her voice already sounding slightly horrified as she stepped up behind Caleb. In the corner of his eye, he could see Yasha gripping her sword.

“A kid,” Nott finally answered, ears drooping and folding close to her head.

“A kid?! Then why the hell are you keeping her in there?” Fjord asked.

“Because she saw me and immediately started screaming! I don't think she's going to be very fond of this!” Nott hissed back, and gesturing to the entirety of her face as she did so. “Give me a moment.”

As the others watched, she took a second to cast alter self and turn herself into Veth. The crooked sharp teeth disappeared, along with the glowing yellow eyes and the green skin. In it's place once more stood a little halfling lady, features round and inviting and definitely a lot less threatening.

Once the disguise was complete, Nott carefully opened the closet door again. The crying didn't stop, and beside a mop of blonde hair they couldn't see anything yet with her standing in the way.

“Hey, hey there. It's okay, the, uh, the evil goblin is gone. Come on now, you're okay,” she told the child, in an attempt to calm her down. It didn't seem to work very well though, and Nott turned back to them with a bit of desperation on her face.

“I, uh, maybe one of you guys should go,” Fjord mumbled, giving the two humans of the party a pointed look. And while Caleb still hesitated, Beau nodded briefly and stepped forward, kneeling down beside Nott to be more on eye level with the child.

The appearance of a second person seemed to give her pause, at least, and Beau gave the kid her best version of a friendly smile. Which, surprisingly, was a lot friendlier than what she usually managed. “Hey. My friend is right, you know, you can come out now. You're safe. Don't you want to come out of that stupid closet?”

The girl just stared at her for a moment, with her lower lip still trembling. “Wo ist meine Mama?” she finally whispered, causing Beau to freeze this time. She had a vague idea of what the kid had just asked for, but that was definitely not Common what she had just heard.

“Caleb?” She looked over her shoulder, motioning for the wizard to come over. “Hey, Caleb, I think we need a translator after all.”

He frowned but didn't hesitate, quickly stepping closer to them, just as Nott got out of the way to let the two humans handle it. Along with Beau he kneeled down in front of the girl, taking in the terrified face and her torn clothing, the tussled hair. “Hey... kannst du mich verstehen?” he asked gently.

She nodded, slowly, as if she still didn't trust either of them. Which was very fair, Caleb wouldn't have expected her to trust them.

“Okay, das ist gut. Oder? Es ist viel besser wenn man sich verstehen kann,” Caleb continued, trying not to get into too much of a nervous ramble now that he felt solely responsible for somehow communicating with this child. “Bist du verletzt? Kannst du uns sagen was passiert ist, oder- oder vielleicht wie du heißt?”

“Mein Name ist Anna,” came the quiet reply.

“Und wie alt bist du?”

“Fünf.”

“Fünf? Das- ah, das ist ein gutes Alter. Willst du nicht rauskommen?” He offered her a hand, and after another moment of hesitation she took it and finally got up. She was still careful, and pressed closer to him immediately, holding on to his coat with a free hand.

Caleb cleared his throat and turned back to his companions, forcing a smile on his face. “Everyone, this is Anna, and she is five years old.”

“Has she told you what happened yet?” Fjord asked, and Caleb could feel the girl trying even harder to disappear into him.

“Ah, no. We didn't get that far yet.” He looked down to her, gently squeezing her hand once. “Das is Fjord. Ich weiß er sieht etwas... gefährlich aus. Aber er ist wirklich nett, versprochen.”

She nodded again but didn't move from her spot, watching them all with a wary eye. Caduceus spoke up next, and even though Anna jumped slightly at the deep voice, she seemed to find him less scary than Fjord. If the pressure she subjected Caleb's hand to was anything to go by.

“Maybe we should have this conversation somewhere else, bring her somewhere she feels more comfortable,” the firbolg suggested.

“What, like the rest of her house, which is equally in shambles?” Beau asked.

“Don't say it like that, you're only going to scare her,” Nott hissed, glaring at her friend now.

“It's not like she understands me in the first place.”

“We don't know that, she could understand more than we think, while just not being able to speak the language herself. For now, it's better to speak with some caution,” Caleb replied, getting involved again before the two could start arguing. “Maybe we just take her outside for now.”

The others agreed with that. So after making sure she would be okay with it, Caleb picked the girl up and carried her outside to where their horses were still waiting. He made sure that she could lean her head against his shoulder, trying to shield her from as much of the chaos as possible. Especially the blood.

Once outside, he put her back on her feet, but she still refused to let go of his coat for too long. “Kannst du uns jetzt sagen was passiert ist? Hast du irgendwas gesehen?” Caleb asked again, doing his best to ignore his friend's imploring looks. “Hast du dich selbst im Schrank versteckt?”

Only at the last question did she finally react and shake her head. “Nein. Mama hat uns gesagt wir sollen nach oben laufen, und Gregor hat dann gesagt ich soll in den Schrank gehen und ganz leise sein, bis sie wieder weg sind.”

“Wer ist 'sie'?”

“Die Goblins.”

That word made all of them perk up again, especially Nott. The difference in pronunciation was after all minimal enough that they still knew which creatures she was talking about.

Caleb nodded grimly. “Kannst du mir mehr erzählen? Egal was, alles könnte hilfreich sein.”

They talked for another minute or two, before he finally got up again and turned back to the group. “She says their family was attacked by goblins. They didn't see them coming, and by the time her mother realized what was happening, all she could do was try and send her children somewhere save. Looks like Anna is the only one who wasn't discovered.”

The others, having expected something like that, nodded slightly. Especially Nott seemed to be trying very hard to keep herself in check, and not show her anger around the little girl.

“How many people are we talking about?” Fjord asked, practical as always.

“Five. Her mother, her grandmother, and three older siblings,” Caleb told them. She hadn't mentioned a father, so he hadn't asked about one.

“That's a lot,” Fjord muttered, rubbing his chin for a moment. “Must have been a whole clan or something. We should be able to track that, right?” He looked around at the others, getting a few quick nods in response.

“If she could describe one of them, I could scry on them,” Jester offered. Her usually so bubbly nature had dimmed a bit under the circumstances, but she seemed all the more eager to help as she suggested that to Caleb, looking between him and Anna.

“I, uh, we can certainly try that,” Caleb agreed slowly. “I'm just afraid that the description of a five year old could be a bit vague. Maybe that should be more of a last resort?”

“You're just too lazy to translate,” Beau joked, but immediately got serious again. “No, I actually think you're right. And I'm sure we can start somewhere else. Like Fjord said, must have been a lot of goblins if they managed to drag five people with them. There are bound to be tracks of some sort here somewhere.”

“We should leave soon then, before we lose what little sunlight is left,” Yasha spoke. She'd been quiet so far, but the look in her eyes gave Caleb chills. “Nott, you should be able to help with this the most.”

“I'm staying here.”

Everyone turned to Nott in surprise, and not few of them confused. “But... this is pretty much exactly what happened to your family, too. Don't you want, I don't know, revenge?” Beau asked.

“Well, first of all, it wouldn't really be revenge, because this is a different clan than the one who took me and my family,” Nott insisted. “And second, someone clearly needs to stay behind with the girl, we can't just leave her alone again. And that someone is going to be Caleb, because he's the only one who understands her. So I'm going to stay here to protect Caleb in case they come back.”

Fjord huffed softly. “Not that I don't appreciate your protective instinct, but don't you think Caleb can defend himself? If anything comes?”

Nott just shrugged. “Maybe, but maybe not with a child hanging on to him at all times. Two people are better than one, so I'm staying.

“I would appreciate the help, actually,” Caleb told them. “She's right, I'm more vulnerable when I'm alone with her.” While he wasn't lying, he was mostly agreeing so the others would stop pressuring her into going with them. No matter her motive, he could understand if she wasn't in the mood to take on a clan of goblins after what they had done to her.

“Perfect, at least we will know you are save then,” Caduceus said with a smile. “Let's go. Just as Yasha has said, we do not want to waste anymore daylight.”

A last check on their weaponry, and then the five of them were on their way, Nott and Caleb staying behind with Anna. Once the others were gone and out of sight, Nott turned to her wizard friend. “What now? We can't really stand around here until they come back.”

“No, no I suppose not,” Caleb sighed. “I do not want to take her inside either though, not with the way it looks in there.”

“Stay here then, I will clean up a bit and you try to distract her,” Nott offered. But Caleb looked between her and Anna, seemingly becoming more and more uncomfortable.

“Distract her how? Nott, I've never- I'm not good with kids!” he whispered, desperately. “What am I supposed to do with her?”

“Just, you know, kids stuff,” she replied amused. “You were able to convince the Bright Queen to listen to you, I'm sure you'll be fine with a kid.”

“I'm not so sure about this,” he muttered.

Nott rolled her eyes and motioned Anna to come closer, giving her a warm smile. The girl looked at Caleb first, but then stepped closer to her.

“Caleb, ask her if she knows any games. Or what she likes to play with her siblings,” Nott said, only glancing at her friend briefly before focusing on Anna again.

Caleb looked confused but cleared his throat, addressing Anna directly. “Ah, meine Freundin hier möchte wissen ob es irgendwas gibt, was du gerne mit deinen Geschwistern spielst? Was für Spiele kennst du?”

Anna seemed to get what was going on, and with a slight smile she answered, looking more at Caleb than at Nott though. “Kennst du Klatschspiele?”

“She asks if you know any clapping games,” he relayed back to Nott.

“Well, do you?” she shot back. “Because she was very clearly not talking to me. Have fun.” And with that she gave a brief wave to Anna and left the two alone, Caleb barely suppressing a groan as she disappeared into the house.

Anna was still looking at him expectantly, so he walked over to a bench with her, in front of what looked like a stable, and they settled down there. “Okay, Klatschspiele. Ah, es ist etwas her, dass ich das gemacht habe, das musst du mir nachsehen.”

She just smiled widely and already grabbed for his hands, manipulating them until they were in the right position. Caleb couldn't help but compare it to teaching someone somatic figures, even if the thought was ridiculous. But the motions to the game came back easily to him, after all he had spend quite some time himself as a child playing this. The words did, too, to the incredibly silly game.

Bei Müllers hat's gebrannt -brannt -brannt Da bin ich schnell gerannt -rannt -rannt

Anna moved slowly, still very clearly leading the game for Caleb's sake. It shouldn't have been difficult, at least not for someone who regularly went through complicated sets of somatic gestures to save either himself or his friends, but Caleb found himself stumbling more often than not.

Da kam ein Polizist -zist -zist Der schrieb mich auf die List List List

The game was repetitive, to say the least, every line requiring the same set of movements. First, Caleb clapped his own hands together, then his right one against Anna's, then his own again, then his left hand against Anna's left. And every line ended with both meeting in the middle three times.

Die Liste die fiel in Dreck Dreck Dreck Da war mein Name weg weg weg Da lief ich schnell nach Haus Haus Haus Zu meinem Onkel Klaus Klaus Klaus

And at this point Caleb would have thought the game to be over, since these were all the lyrics he remembered. But Anna continued, her widening grin hinting at a glee that Caleb didn't quite understand yet. Until her lines got more and more absurd.

Der Klaus der lag im Bett Bett Bett Mit seiner Frau Elisabeth Elisabeth die lachte Der Busenhalter krachte

The girl was outright giggling at this point, barely getting through the lines. Caleb was surprised she'd even managed to get the word Busenhalter over her lips.

Der Bauch der explodierte Ein Baby rausmarschierte Das Baby war ein Mädchen Und zeigte seine Zähnchen

They finally finished, and Caleb gave her an amused look. “Das ist nicht unbedingt die Version die ich als Kind gelernt habe. Wer hat dir das beigebracht, huh?”

“Gregor,” she told him quietly, before laying a finger over her lips. “Aber nicht Mama sagen.”

He smiled back at her and zipped his mouth shut, sending her into another giggle fit. Just then, Nott came back outside, giving the two a fond look. “Seems like you were able to hold yourself after all.”

“Well, she sure knows some interesting words for a five year old,” Caleb joked. “But yes, I think we did okay. How's it looking inside?”

“Better. Come on, maybe we can find something to eat, too.”

Caleb agreed, relying their plans to Anna as she slowly calmed down again. Instead of walking inside by herself though, she insisted on being carried again. Caleb obliged.

“You know, if we're still looking to kill some time,” Nott offered, “I could teach her a few clapping games in Common, too.”

“But she won't understand them?”

“The words aren't too hard, and you can always tell her what it means,” she replied with a shrug. “It would be fun, come on.”

“Hmm. Anna, willst du Klatschspiele in Common lernen?” Caleb asked, and when he got an enthusiastic nod, he finally agreed with it as well.

“Great, I'll teach her “A half-orc went to sea”, first,” Nott said with a grin.

“Are you... are you sure that's how it goes?”

“Absolutely. Oh, and by the way, I'm not gonna tell anyone that you're a big softy if you agree to play with Luc the next time we're in Nicodranas.”

“Hmm. Deal,” he told her, thinking that was a very small price to pay for something he wouldn't have minded too much in the first place. But in order to keep it a secret, the others would first need to return anyway. Hopefully, with the rest of Anna's family in tow.

So, uh. I wrote a post. About Fjord and Caleb. It is over 3000 words long. I’m not going to make any attempt to justify this as a life decision. All I’ll say is that I am sure as hell putting this under a cut, and I would only venture beneath that cut if you really, really want to read an obsessive analysis of practically every significant interaction Fjord and Caleb have ever had (complete with direct quotes thanks to the light of my life, @crtranscript) that is longer than a goddamn term paper.

So the thing that keeps getting to me is that when Caleb agreed to bleed all over a dark altar to satisfy Fjord’s (and his own) curiosity, and he asked if Fjord would help him with his own goals when the time comes, Fjord didn’t say “Yes” or “It’s a deal” or anything along those lines. He said, “Always.” (This was in episode 44, which we all know, but I’m noting it because I’m going to be talking about a lot of different episodes in this post.)

We all know that Caleb tends to view almost all social interactions as transactional. (I’ve seen people claiming that Nott is the one exception to this rule, and I’d actually argue that Jester is the one exception, but that’s a whole other post.) Fjord, on the other hand, does not view his relationships with the Mighty Nein that way. He never has. In fact, I feel like he, more than any other member, has seen them as a family from the start. Furthermore, I think that this fundamental misunderstanding between Fjord and Caleb goes back almost as far as the campaign itself.

Courtesy of the amazing folks @crtranscript, here’s their famous conversation from episode 4 of this campaign, “Disparate Pieces”:

Caleb: This group seems rough around the edges, but you seem clever. Hopefully we can make this work.

Fjord: I think we should be able to, yeah. I mean, a little guidance goes a long way. You seem to be good at looking out for Nott.

Caleb: I mean, full disclosure, I’m a little rough around the edges, but you catch my drift.

Fjord: I do. You can trust us. You’re safe here. I’m concerned with what happens with Jester and Beau. I think, amongst all of us, we should be fine.

Caleb: Let’s make it work.

Fjord: We’ll make it work.

The thing is, I don’t think Fjord does catch Caleb’s drift, or vice versa. Caleb is talking about practicalities--about his hope for a group that can remain cohesive for a while, protect him from danger, and help him achieve his goals, assuming he does the same for them. His comment that they are “rough around the edges” is an expression of his anxiety that they will not fulfill those criteria, which is why he comes to Fjord, who he sees as the most levelheaded and friendly of the bunch, to try and assuage his fears.

And then there’s his “Full disclosure, I’m a little rough around the edges,” which reveals an alternate anxiety that he struggles with enormously to this day: that he might not be useful to them--or at least, not useful enough to off-set all his baggage. Caleb sees other people as commodities, but he also sees himself that way. Yes, he has considered leaving the Mighty Nein with Nott (or even taking off on his own) when he starts to feel they might endanger his life or hinder his goals...but he is also afraid of being forced out. Of being abandoned by the group if they learn what he’s done, or the fragile state of his sanity, or how much danger hangs over him. From his perspective, his entire relationship with Beau hinges on this fear, and it (along with Beau being...Beau) periodically gets in the way of the genuine friendship they might otherwise develop.

In short, Caleb went to Fjord in “Disparate Pieces” to find out whether he thought that the future Mighty Nein would make a good toolbox, and to pitch himself as a useful tool in that box, despite his shortcomings. Fjord, though, takes things much deeper than that:

He acknowledges friendships and protective urges within the group (“You seem to be good at looking out for Nott” and “I’m concerned with what happens with Jester and Beau”). He’s positioning himself and Caleb as protectors within the group, watching over its younger or more chaotic members, without even considering why they would want to/what they will get in exchange. (Note that at some point in those early episodes, he even offered to protect Frumpkin if that mattered to Caleb.)

He doesn’t offer Caleb any specific skills or services, nor ask what he can give in return. Instead, he makes an unconditional blanket statement: “You can trust us. You’re safe here.” Considering the sum total of Caleb’s life experiences, it seems highly doubtful that Caleb actually believed him. Yet I’m pretty sure Fjord meant every word.

He doesn’t think (like Caleb will in episode 26, “Found and Lost,” after the Iron Shepherds abduction) about what each member of the group might contribute to his goals. He just makes another blanket statement: “Amongst all of us, we should be fine.” In his mind, they’re already a unit. And not just a functional unit like a toolbox, or even a ship’s crew. They’re a family. They’re like two misfit dads with a pack of adopted misfit children. (This also goes a long way to explaining the perpetual tension between Fjord and Nott, but again, that’s a whole other post.)

And to me, that’s it right there, the fundamental divide. Mighty Nein as toolbox vs. Mighty Nein as family. It explains Caleb and Fjord’s one big schism: Scrollgate (episode 12, “Midnight Espionage”). To Caleb, you always use the handiest tools in your arsenal, whether they happen to be your teammates or a magical scroll in a drawer. To Fjord, the safety of the family comes before personal goals, always: “We’re either a team, or you’re working for yourselves. Decide.” And note that a few seconds after Caleb “decided” (by dropping the scroll and walking out of the room), Fjord was hauling an unconscious Caleb out of a burning house and pouring a healing potion down his throat. Their confrontation was irrelevant the moment Caleb confirmed himself as part of the family.

This division doesn’t just explain why they’ve clashed in the past, though, but also why their relationship has improved. When did Fjord’s opinion of Caleb take a turn for the better? When Caleb showed up at the Sour Nest, played a central role in defeating the Iron Shepherds and freeing his kidnapped teammates, and then comforted them and expressed affection for them (episode 30, “The Journey Home”). Travis said on Talks Machina that both he and Fjord were surprised by Caleb’s behavior--he’d expected Caleb to “throw it in their faces” or talk about how they owed him for the rescue. And honestly, is it any surprise he expected this? It would have fit Caleb’s m.o. perfectly. Both the rescue itself and Caleb’s selfless behavior afterward were a major turning point for Caleb, a non-transactional approach to his relationship with the gang. And Fjord fully recognized how huge that was, and took care to thank Caleb specifically for it.

But that brings me to the current Avantika/Uk’otoa arc, and all the fascinating Caleb/Fjord interactions it’s brought us, culminating in the madness that was Thursday night’s “blood pact.” I think that, during this arc, the tables have turned. If the Iron Shepherds arc helped repair their relationship because Caleb began to act more like Fjord, then this arc has complicated their relationship because Fjord (as Caleb sees it) has begun to act more like Caleb.

This, I think, has been the subtext lurking beneath Caleb’s repeated, insistent questioning of Fjord about what he wants, what his specific goals are during this quest, and how he wants the Mighty Nein to help achieve them. It makes perfect sense that Caleb has been so frantic to get to the bottom of that question, and that Fjord’s genuinely confused and non-committal answers have been driving him nuts. Because, from Caleb’s perspective, Fjord is finally utilizing the Mighty Nein for their proper purpose: to achieve personal goals.

Fjord must have goals. He must have a specific design for the thing he wants to build with his toolbox (because Caleb does, and Nott does, and Trent Ikithon did, and that’s pretty much the full range of Caleb’s experience). If he would just say what they are, Caleb could get back on familiar ground and frame the whole quest as transactional, offering to help achieve Fjord’s goals in exchange for the same privilege down the line, or refusing and cutting his losses if the risk is too high (which he threatened to do if Fjord tried to awaken Uk’otoa). If, however, Fjord won’t state his goals clearly, he must be shady, untrustworthy, deliberately hiding something, trying to manipulate his “toolbox” to achieve the desired result. It couldn’t possibly be because he never had a plan beyond “Find some answers and assume my family has my back.” It couldn’t possibly be that he wants the decision process to be collaborative, even during his own personal quest, because that’s how a family gets things done...could it?

So we have the two of them constantly, subtly working at cross-purposes. In episode 40, “Dubious Pursuits,” Caleb tells Fjord, “You do what you have to” with regard to the Avantika situation, assuming that Fjord will do the practical, goal-oriented thing: sleep with her to protect himself and the group.

But I suspect what Fjord really wanted in that moment was for someone (or everyone) to offer him help or reassurance, to serve as a buffer between him and this woman he was openly baffled by and terrified of. While Caleb’s go-to strategy when things get tough is to make a plan (often involving “calculated risk”) and implement it without consulting anyone, Fjord’s is to assemble the entire group and solicit their opinions, listening to and weighing every single voice before coming to a consensus. He actually tries to make this very clear to Caleb earlier in the aforementioned conversation: “I need more info, Caleb. I need more data, more knowledge. You read books on this stuff. There has to be someone out there that knows more about this before we just charge in.” When Caleb expresses serious concerns about Fjord’s intentions, Fjord answers, “I have no interest in dealing with matters that predate time as we know it. I’m pretty simple. These days I’ve spent with you are the most exciting of my entire life. I’m not looking to end them, or the world, by frivolously giving up something that I barely understand.” 

This is an answer that Caleb absolutely cannot believe as long as he keeps projecting his own goals and values onto Fjord. Because Fjord is prioritizing his found family over power, over ancient arcane knowledge. Nothing sounds faker to Caleb than the two sentences that might be the most succinct summary of Fjord’s motivations we’ve ever heard: “I’m pretty simple. These days I’ve spent with you are the most exciting of my life.”

What Fjord wanted in that moment was for the M9 to tell him, “We have ideas, we’ve got your back, we’ll stand with you (and against HER) like family should, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” But Caleb couldn’t imagine saying (or hearing) those words. Just imagine for a second if those words had occurred to him or Astrid or Eodwulf sixteen years before our story began.

Instead, Caleb gives Fjord the bleak truth about Avantika: “She’s not going to let go of you. You are a key that she needs.” Sound familiar? Stir up any memories of Caleb’s backstory? Or (even more chillingly) of the way Caleb himself usually views (or at least tries to view) the people he works with?

So Fjord slept with Avantika. Not, as Caleb assumed, because it was “no big deal” in the service of his master plan, but because Caleb implied that he had a responsibility to do so, and Fjord takes his family’s opinions and his responsibilities to them more seriously than anything else. And in episode 43, “In Hot Water,” even Caleb himself figures that out (“He has compromised himself with this woman, for us, for himself, for all of our safety. It is going to be difficult for him”). What made him realize his mistake? Probably the one-on-one conversation he had with Fjord in episode 41, “A Pirate’s Life for Me.” 

I think this conversation is crucial to their relationship. I might go so far as to say that it changes Caleb’s view of Fjord almost as radically as the Iron Shepherds arc changed Fjord’s view of Caleb. Here Caleb is, thinking of Fjord as a levelheaded, competent leader, a friendly guy...but cagey and secretive, potentially dangerous, possibly manipulating them all in the name of his mysterious master plan. And then Fjord pulls Caleb aside and just lays it all out.

“I had to admit I found myself a bit surprised. My initial impression of you was someone a bit timid and maybe reserved; meek even. Your tone, your opinion of what to do with Avantika in order to make sure that we’re okay, it seemed very…calculated. Very…risky. Do you mind me asking if you’ve...have you ever sacrificed anything in order to achieve a greater goal? Because I feel like I am swimming in the deep end and I don’t quite know what I’m doing.”

This little monologue turned Caleb’s entire impression of Fjord and his arc on its head. I think this is when he realized that Fjord isn’t ruthlessly pursuing some deep, dark, secret goal like Caleb himself. Instead, he’s been thrust unwillingly into a situation where he’s suddenly being forced to make the kinds of harrowing decisions that Caleb’s long since conditioned himself to make.

In stark contrast to his confident ultimatums in their previous conversation, Caleb is awkward and skittish, caught off-guard. He dodges Fjord’s question with irrelevant half-truths, but he knows perfectly well how astute it was. And suddenly, he’s not seeing Fjord as a current mirror image of himself, ruthless and calculating; he’s seeing Fjord as a mirror of himself as a child, innocent and uncertain, finding himself in a situation with no right or safe choices, where power and knowledge come with a heavy dose of manipulation and violence.

And who does Fjord come to, with praise for his strategic intellect and keen perception? Who does he trust to fix this fucked-up situation if necessary? Caleb. Because he senses, despite Caleb’s evasions, that he has been in this kind of situation before...and he assumes, in a moment of incredible irony, that this means Caleb is equipped to make the right choice:

Fjord: I think you know what I mean, but in case this thing gets out of hand, can I count on you to right the ship if need be?

Caleb: Keep the group safe?

Fjord: Of course.

Keep the group safe. That’s what Fjord has tasked both himself and Caleb with through the whole damn campaign, and Caleb finally gets it. That Fjord doesn’t want a powerful tool in his arsenal to achieve his own goals; he wants a back-up guardian for the flock of wayward children he’s taken under his wing. This is one of those rare moments (like “The Journey Home”) when Caleb’s brain fully switches from toolbox to family, and the proof is in the way the conversation ends: “I think that woman is going to try to kill you, I really do.”

Why does Caleb hesitate so long and “nervously twiddle” his bit of wire before conveying that message? Because it’s so out of character. Because his own agenda is to use Fjord as a buffer between Avantika and the rest of the group, and this warning directly contradicts that agenda. Because this isn’t an expression of concern about group cohesion or success.

It’s an expression of concern for Fjord.

And at the end of the following episode (episode 42, “A Hole in the Plan,” if we’re still keeping track), Caleb finally does what Fjord wanted all along. He produces a literal manifestation of the thing that Fjord has wanted the M9 to do metaphorically ever since they first encountered Avantika: “I cast Wall of Fire between her and us.” He sends the message, loud and clear, that Fjord will no longer be used as a tool for the protection of the group, because the entire family is worthy of protection. Family, not toolbox.

And Fjord reacts immediately. In episode 43, “In Hot Water,” his focus is on Caleb throughout the fight with Avantika’s crew: moving Caleb out of danger, reviving Caleb when he’s down, and panicking so much that he lets his accent slip because Caleb has done just what Fjord asked, he has kept the group safe, and Fjord, in turn, feels responsible for Caleb, who is part of the family as well.

...And all of this brings me to the most recent episode. To episode 44, which...doesn’t have a title yet. 😛 And to the infamous blood ritual.

Now, there were a million things going on with that ritual (and the spontaneous “pact” that followed). Plenty of people have already written about them more eloquently than I ever could. We had both Fjord and Caleb poking at and manipulating each other, testing each other’s boundaries, each trying to see how far the other would go. We had them acknowledging their shared fascination with power (in a darker echo of Fjord’s constant compliments for Caleb’s magic at the beginning of the campaign), and we had Fjord “7 wisdom” Tusktooth and Caleb “calculated risk” Widogast go into an ill-considered, self-destructive frenzy before Jester’s (and our) horrified eyes.

But to me, for all the common ground they discovered in that scene, for all the “blood brothers” hype of their gory handshake, the fundamental misunderstanding still remains. Caleb, despite all the recent progress he’s made toward understanding and even adopting Fjord’s “Mighty Nein=family” perspective, thinks that he’s finally discovered the real Fjord: reckless, ambitious, willing to trade favors with Caleb in order to pursue knowledge and power, placing the two of them on exactly the same page. He tries to lay this out for Fjord right before the bloodbath, admitting that he has goals of his own and asking if Fjord will be there to help him accomplish them.

And Fjord’s response? “Always.”

It’s a subtle moment. I’m pretty sure Caleb didn’t pick up on it. He still viewed the situation as a trade, and when Fjord ended the ritual prematurely, when he took Caleb’s hand and said, “We understand each other,” Caleb thought they were sealing a pact that was contingent on his willingness to bleed.

In Fjord’s mind? It was the opposite.

This was never about demanding a trade from Caleb (or vice versa). They were both bleeding on that altar. The question they both kept asking each other (“Aren’t you curious?”) wasn’t about pressuring each other into an unwanted situation; it was about acknowledging their shared curiosity and acting on it. It wasn’t Caleb working toward Fjord’s goals so that Fjord will eventually work toward Caleb’s; it was about the two of them working together, in every situation, to accomplish the goals of the group (even when that means backing off from their own ambitions when the risk becomes too great, as demonstrated by the fact that he ended that ritual when the cost became too high).

Fjord didn’t promise to work toward Caleb’s goals if Caleb worked toward his. He promised to work toward Caleb’s goals, full-stop. Always. Always. He’s been working for Caleb--and the rest of the Mighty Nein--since they first became a unit. Barring a blatant betrayal of the group (like he feared during Scrollgate), he’s never had any intention of doing anything else, or any conditions that apply to that assistance. Family, not toolbox.

Caleb has spent the entire campaign trying to bargain for something that has always been offered to him freely. Fjord told him “You’re safe here” before the M9 even hit the road together, and he told him “Always” before a single drop of blood was spilled.

and now you're drowning (and i'm surviving)-Critical Role

its on Ao3!

He tips her head up, putting his head to her chest (he's wanted to do this, sometimes, when the nights were dark and the dreams unrelenting but not like this, oh, not like this-) and listens for a heartbeat.

He can't find one.

A/N: This is my first CR fic! It’s been up for a while, just haven’t posted it here haha. Let me know what you think! The rest is under the cut!

Sometimes, Fjord dreams about drowning. There's no huge eye in these dreams, no push to fulfill a command, no view of Vandren or Sabien; he just drowns, plain and simple. He feels that initial splash into the frigid waves, the dark churning of bubbles as he twirls underwater. He feels his lungs start to twitch, the last of his oxygen being consumed and he breathes out, searching for those bubbles that would tickle his chin or nose to tell him which way was up. It never comes and he tries again, the last of his breath used in his desperate attempt to live. Nothing. And that's when the nightmare starts. It's a certain sort of hell, the water cold yet burning, filling his lungs as his body forces him to take a breath, only for them to convulse painfully as he tries to expel the water. He feels himself fading, too slowly for his taste as his lungs scream for air and only being met with brine and fire. His consciousness leaves him, the pressure of the tumultuous currents lessening as he tries to accept his fate, accept the fire burning in his chest as a temporary pain before an eternal slumber. He thinks he still dies with his eyes open. These are the dreams he manages to hide, no salt water spit up or vanished items to alert the party of his nightmares. Sometimes, though, he catches Caduceus looking his way before putting on a pot of chamomile tea "to calm some early morning nerves". Molly used to bring him whiskey, but tea does just fine. Even after his near death in the sea, Fjord doesn't find himself shying away from water. It's still his home, his old livelihood; dangers came in every environment, after all. Every sailor knows that they could drown at any moment. He finds himself missing more than ever the feeling of being out on open sea, of looking out and seeing blue, beautiful blue for miles, salty airs and cool breezes his only constants. It's funny how dying alleviated fears of death. So no, drowning himself didn't scare him. But someone else, someone he cared for, being subjected to the same fate? That sent chills down his spine. He finds himself constantly checking on the rest of the M9 as they played along the shoreline. Caleb, who stays afloat where he could see him; Caduceus, who swims in shallow waters, Nott and Beau, who stay mostly on the shoreline where the water just curls around their toes. He feels like he needs to protect them, and he knows that only half of that feeling stems from their routine of looking out for each other in the empire. (He doesn't want them to feel what he did.) He feels other things too, and most of them are because of Jester. Jester, who until just recently was unable to do anything but watch the sea from her window. Jester, who takes in the beauty and excitement of literally everything around her with such childlike wonder. Jester, whose attention is always shifting from the sea to the birds to her friends to him, and he passes off the th-thump he feels in his chest when they lock eyes as a wave startling him as they crash against the rocks. No, Fjord isn't afraid of drowning. But he's afraid of those he cares about being subjected to the same fate. So when he finds himself captaining a ship, responsible for the lives of every single person who's meant anything (everything, they're everything, she's everything-) to him in the past, he's feeling anxious, and rightfully so. But they're different. That's what he tells himself. They're capable. Caleb has his fire, Beau has her fists, Yasha has her sword, Caduceus has his magic, Nott has her crossbow- And Jester- Jester is in the arms of a harpy. It pulls her from the sail she’s mending, sharp talons digging into her arms painfully as she struggles to hold onto the mast. One harpy is down already, felled by Beau, and another two are speeding away due to whatever spell Caleb has cast on them. The other three are retreating, yes, but not without something as a prize; one has a deckhand firmly in its grasp, another eyeballing Nott; but no one minds them. They're all looking at Jester. (It's like his heart has stopped.) "Let go of her!" Beau, ever the agile one, runs up the mast and leaps, adrenaline an determination taking her farther than she was able to on Nicodranas. She catches onto the harpy's wing and it sags with her weight, dropping back to Earth for a split second before it caws sharply and snaps its' wing up, throwing Beau off and sending her plummeting 40 feet onto the deck. She pops back up immediately, full of splinters and anger before Fjord puts a hand on her shoulder, pushing her towards the stern. "Go help Caduceus and Yasha!" he nearly growls at her, and turns back to the harpy, summoning his falcon and pointing it straight at it. The eye looks at its target, and for a second Fjord swears he sees it narrow in delight before an Eldrich blast comes shooting out, careening towards the harpy’s back for a hit. Caleb and Nott fire, magic missiles and crossbow bolts a blur of light and metal as they smash into the harpy, which looks broken and bloodied even at this distance. Jester is trying to work her way free, unable to do much harm without touching the beast and so she casts Spiritual weapon, a huge lollipop appearing right above her and the harpy, who's gained considerable height and is starting to put distance between them and the ship. Fjord is still firing, ripping through his spell slots as he aims, fires, corrects, fires until he feels blood rushing to his head and nearly blacks out in exhaustion. He can still see Jester, who's managed to get an arm free and raises a hand to bring down the giant lollipop on the harpy's head, and he lifts the falcon one more time- The harpy pitches forward, then falls out of the sky. And for a brief millisecond, there's relief. And then Jester starts to fall. "Jester!" The M9 rush to the edge of the deck, watching the tiefling plummet 50 feet through the air, twisting and turning the whole way down before hitting the sea with a huge splash. They're freaked, out of their element and unsure of what to do and how to do it, and so they look back at Fjord for ideas. Except Fjord isn't there anymore. He's in the water, swimming at top speed (thank the gods for this armour) towards where he saw her go down. He takes a breath, a quick one, and dives. The sea is just as murky as the day he died. He pushes down, down, down, swimming deeper and deeper into it's icy depths. He doesn't know how long she's been under, and he doesn't want to think about it; she's not drowning, she's not drowning, she's not drowning . He finds a hand in the dark. He nearly recoils in surprise, but he latches on instead, pulling the hand towards him. A body collides with his, small and feminine, a dress swaying and catching his ankles in the current. He can't make out her face, but he knows it's her. He speeds up and out of the ocean, the universe seemingly at his side as his natural buoyancy propels him upward towards air. She drags behind him, limp in his grasp and right now all he can do is pray, pray to the gods and the Traveller and whatever he made a pact with to please let her be alive, please please please let her live, I'm begging you- He breaches the surface with a gasp. He props Jester up with his arms, turning her towards him. Her head is limp and it sags between them, resting on her chest as he sees the last of the saltwater drain from her mouth. He tips her head up, putting his head to her chest (he's wanted to do this, sometimes, when the nights were dark and the dreams unrelenting but not like this, oh, not like this-) and listens for a heartbeat. He can't find one. He feels a rush of something threatening to cascade over him but he clamps it down, unwilling to let his fears get in the way of what he has to do. First-get back on the boat. He half hugs, half tucks Jester into his side, cradling her head with a hand so she wouldn't go back under again (does it matter?) and swims, struggling to pull both their weight but managing it anyway, eyes trained on the slow growing ship no more than 40 ft away and closing. He sees his party members and some crew leaning over the side, watching him struggle towards them. Caleb turns and barks something at the deckhands, who both turn and run off,and he soon sees a rope being thrown over, along with a pinkish gray mass that lands with a splash. Caduceus reaches them in no time and Fjord pushes Jester into his arms without thinking (it strikes him how much he trusts Caduceus, no matter how hard it is to understand him.). "She's not responding," he explains as Caduceus slowly turns Jester around to face him, watching the firbolgs' eyebrows furrow as he presses his hand to her nose, her mouth, her throat. "I think she's un-" Fjord is interrupted by Caduceus placing a hand on his shoulder, sinking down a little in the water to look him in the eyes. "Get back on the ship," he says, and Fjord has never felt colder. They both swim to the rope, silently carrying Jester between the two of them. Fjord gestures for Caduceus to tie himself in but he shakes his head, grabbing the rope and fastening it to the half orc instead and placing Jester in his arms. He doesn't want to look down at her, doesn't want to see her blue lips tinged with purple and white, her eyelids slightly open and staring at nothing. He looks at her. He finds himself starting to shake. Caduceus tugs the rope and Fjord is lifted up and out of the water, rope digging into his back as they gain height (He can't even feel it, all he can look at is Jester, Jester, Jester-) until he sees the railing above him, sees the rest of his friends holding onto the other end of the rope and helping him go up and over and falling in a heap onto the deck with a groan, still managing to protect Jester by curling up around her (she still smells like sweets, mixed with salt and blood). He hears Beau yell out their names, feels her crouch beside him and slowly uncurls himself for her, letting her take Jester and place her on the deck. "Jes?" she whispers, leaning in close to feel her breath. (He doesn't have the strength or heart to tell her he tried.) "Jester, please. Don't trick us like this by holding your breath. It isn't funny...Jester?" She looks back at Fjord, looking for some reassurance from her fears but he's silent, staring at Jester's prone form and trying not to break. A shuffling of clothes. Caleb walks from behind Fjord's periphery and crouches beside Beau, looking down at Jester with an expression crossed between pain and affection that takes Fjord's breath away. He pushes the tieflings dark hair out of her face, leaning down and pressing her forehead to his own and whispering something in Zemnian before, in Common, "Sleep well, my little one." Nott is right there beside him, her little form shaking in little bursts as she puts on her porcelain mask to hide her face, even as Beau pulls both of them in for a hug. Yasha watches all of this in silence, but her silence speaks more than words as she opens her book, falling to her knees to place dried flowers around Jester's hair and face. (Another crack. Fjord doesn't know how long he'll last like this. He's failed them all.) Caduceus is the last to approach, still dripping wet. He makes a puddle on the deck where he stands, peering down at Jester's form like an inquisitive crow before shifting to look at all of them. "It might be rude to say so early but, I'm sorry for your loss," Caduceus begins, and Beau's head snarls up to face him. "Our loss? Bullshit. We know how much she means to you, too." Caduceus's facial expression flickers, just for a second, before settling into a determined look as he sets down his staff to shuffle through his knapsack. "She did. She does. And that's why," He pulls out long tube, the sides of it sporting moss and colorful fungi that comes off a little as he opens the container and pulls out a scroll. "we're going to get her back." "And how do you reckon we do that?" Fjords voice is hollow, his accent barely there as he finally shifts his attention from Jester to Caduceus. No one questions the change; whether it be due to not noticing or not caring, he has no clue. "My family...we ran a graveyard, yes, but if we could help those who had not yet fully crossed over come back...we would. Right now, the Mother has only blessed me with enough words to bring back someone within a minute, but my parents were able to help those who have been gone for much longer. They gave me this scroll before they left, and they said that I should use it when the time was right." "And you think now is the right time?" Caleb's voice is soft, questioning; they all know what other time he's referring to and it hits Fjord like a sledgehammer (blue is replaced with purple, clear water replaced with blood-but he's gone now, been gone for a while-) "The first time you asked for my help, your friend..." Caduceus pauses, looking for the right way to say too far gone, much too dead, miles away and six feet under- " was far away, and I wasn't exactly sure who I would be bringing back anyway. But this, this I can do." He stoops down, waiting for Beau and Yasha to let him pass as he goes and scoops up Jester into his arms and stands. "Let's get her somewhere warm." And he goes below deck. And they all follow. Caduceus  and Caleb spend the rest of the day preparing for the ritual. The firbolg has used up most of his magic during the fight, so attempting ooit now would just be a recipe for disaster , he tells them as Caleb moves Jester into a comfortable position on a cot in his tiny hut, cast to give them a semblance of privacy from the rest of the crew. Both the wizard and the warlock haven't really left Jester's side since she was brought back on board, Caleb being under the excuse of being unable to leave the hut, Fjord by being the captain and Jester's closest friend. Nott and Yasha called evening watch before the raid and stuck to it out of routine, neither of them coming back to switch shifts even when the sun goes down and the sky and sea melt into a singular inky darkness. Beau tries to keep spirits up, something that she is ill equipped to do but tries anyway, frequently reassuring anyone around her that Jester would be back, she would be revived and would probably tease everyone for having a crush on her while she was dead until Fjord can't take it anymore and asks her to relieve Nott of her post. When Nott comes down she sets her weapons down and curls up next to Caleb, who puts up an arm for her to snuggle in closer as he stares at a book. "Goodnight," she mutters, and for a second he expects to hear Jester's sleepy voice mumbling it back, but instead he hears Caleb, bending down to give the goblin a squeeze before slowly closing his eyes as well. Fjord stays where he is, across Jester's cot (corpse), and stares. He doesn't know when he starts to speak. "Jester?" He stops, coughs, starts again, dropping the accent. "Jester, can you hear me? Caduceus...he said something about your soul staying with your body for a bit? Like ghosty shit? Ack..." He rakes his hand through his hair, takes a breath, and looks at her. "I'm sorry." He's not sure who he's talking to at this point; himself, Jester or even the Traveler, a presence he's rarely felt but can only assume is here. His favorite cleric just died. "I'm sorry for letting this happen. And, I know what you would say, that it wasn't my fault, but it is my fault, Jes, I know it. I let us leave shore, and none of you were ready.I don't even know if half of you can swim all that well. I was in charge of all of your safety, and I failed." A lump in his throat threatens his next sentence with a crack, but he pushes it down forcefully. "I failed you. And that's not all I'm sorry for." In the dimness of the hull of a ship in the open sea, Fjord tells the corpse of his best friend everything. He talks about his childhood, his tusks and why he cut them, how he found his life and first family on the sea, how his near drowning affected him. He tells her how he recovered, what his plans were with the Academy, his thoughts and fears about Sabien, Vandren and the entity he might have unknowingly made a pact with. He talks about meeting her. How it changed him, made him see the joy and light in the smallest of things. He talks about the M9, Molly, being captured together (I'm sorry, I'm sorry) and how thankful he was when they were set free. How angry he was. He talks about how worried he was for her. How much he wanted to believe that she was fine, even though she wasn't. He talks about Nicodranas, about meeting her mother and fighting that genie in the sewers and acting out of panic seeing it come after her, how after that he truly started understanding how much she meant to him. He talks, and talks, and talks until his head feels heavier than his heart, and then he's silent, dozing off to the lull of the waves lapping at the ship. (And perhaps he hears a girl, far, far away, softly singing a song the Ruby had performed mere nights ago.) "Wake up, Fjord." The half-orc starts awake, bolting upright before becoming startlingly aware of his sore back and neck and groaning. Massaging his neck, he looks up and sees Beau, hair messy and looking like she barely slept a wink. "Beau? What is it?" He asks, his own thoughts hazy and unclear from sleep. "Its Caduceus. He's ready to do the ritual." He's awake after that. Both Fjord and Beau rush up to the deck. Both the skies and waters are clear, the ocean waves barely rocking the boat to give them the appearance of stillness. The rest of the Nein are already there, all paying attention to Caduceus, who was explaining how the ritual would work and what they could do. Fjord catches most of it, hears the words "offering" and "calling to the soul", but he's still distracted by the blue body in the middle of a chalk circle, surrounded by sigils and lichen, trying to calm his heart down. They were getting her back. The M9 step back as Caduceus walks around the circle a final time before standing in front of them all, pulling the scroll from his bag and lifting it up, and then begins to read. The Celestial that flows from his mouth is melodic and expressive, spell sounding like song as it echoes across the ship and open sea. The chalk lines surrounding Jester begin to slowly glow, pulsing brighter and brighter with every syllable before a bright green light is washing over them all, flaring with divine energy. Caduceus stops reciting, lowering the paper to look at all of them expectantly. "What do you contribute to this ritual?" Before Fjord can even react Caleb steps forward, glancing at Caduceus to make sure he was allowed to step into the ritual circle before walking over to Jester. "Hey there," he says softly, more tender than Fjord has ever heard him, "I wanted to give you something." He fishes for something in his coat for a second before pulling out a small rock, a dull grey save for a light stripe in the middle. "You see this rock?" His voice is quieter now, his face turned down and away from the group as he talks. "It might not look like much, but this is a real lucky rock. It's helped me in a lot of our, ah, fights with the baddies. I guess you could say it's kept me alive." He turns the rock over before placing it gently into Jester's cold, outstretched hands, getting her fingers to curl around the stone. "And now it will help keep you alive too." He leans down and kisses her forehead, brushing the hair from her face before stepping back. The stone pulses. A wave of magic, fiery and bright, spread a out in a singular orange wave, mixing with the green light and strengthening it as Caduceus intones with another verse. He looks back at the group again, and this time it's Nott that springs into action, scrambling forward to stand over Jester's body. "Hey Jessie," she says, crouching at Jester's torso to fiddle with her dress. "'Duceus said that we should offer things up that would strengthen the bonds between you and this world or something...I'm not too good with magic but I brought you these." She unloads her pockets, and trinkets of every type and size clatter to the ground. One by one she scoops them up, placing jewelry on hands and horns and tail, glittery things expertly tied onto her dress or into her hair. Fjord hears Caleb give out a little wheeze and sees the human looking at Nott in shock and fondness. "I know you like shiny things as much as I do, Jester," the goblin continues, placing the last bauble-a silver charm with a rhinestone in its center- into her hair. "and even though I like these things very much...I'd much rather have you here with us." Nott turns and scampers out of the circle towards Caleb, who immediately scoops her up into a hug, squeezing her as she wraps her arms around his neck. Beau and Yasha move over to them, the monk gently ruffling Nott's hair as Yasha says, quietly,"Good job, Nott. I'm sure Jester will be quite happy with her new look.", which only brings out a sniffle from the goblin. They've all changed so much since they've met. The circle is brighter now, light reflecting off the many shiny sides of Nott's offerings, scattering the rays like prisms, adding more colors to the divine light of the Wildmother. Caduceus keeps going, nearly at the end of his scroll by the looks of it, and he pauses to hold up one finger. One more offering. Fjord steps into the circle. He doesn't have anything to offer, but he does have his words, and those have been good enough to get him this far. He hopes it's enough here. He sits down next to Jester. She looks awfully small in death, the energy and joy that seemed to inflate her until she was larger than life itself sapped by the ocean He reaches out to her, cradles her head with both his hands before bringing it to rest on his lap. "Heya, Jes," he starts out, casual and soft, like they're alive and alone instead of dead, hurting, and surrounded by their family. "I know I-I told you a lot of things last night, didn't I? About my past and all. But I think...I think I should tell you about the future." He tells it to her as he envisions it; finding treasure on an island, presenting it to her mother so she wouldn't have to work anymore. Perhaps they'd sail the world; perhaps they'd stow the ship on another port and sneak away, eager to find another adventure on land. They would help Yasha with her quest, Caleb with his weird vendetta. They'd take her to see the Traveller, when it was summer. They would do so many things. "But for this to happen, you have to come back, Jessie," he murmurs, stroking her hair as he talks. "We can't do this without you. You're the cleric. You bring light to us all. You brought it to me, all those months ago. So please, please...come back to me." He looks up, and for a split second he feels someone looking down at him. "You're here, aren't you? Traveler." There's a part of him that feels foolish, calling out to the wind, but he keeps going. "You've seen how much Jester loves you. She follows you diligently, even when it could have gotten her locked up in the Empire. She brings joy to others, and I-I know she must bring joy to you. You're her oldest friend, so please...help us bring her back." Caduceus starts reciting again, louder and faster as the circle grows with a new vigor, green light turning bright blue in some places as magic begins to swirl towards Jester. The parchment in the firbolgs hands begin to burn and he lets go, but no one is really paying attention; they're watching Jester, whose body is lifted from Fjord's grasp by the magic gathering above her, limply hanging in midair as if lifted by a thread. Different lights swirl around the tiefling, bursts of red, green and blue that mingle and twist around each other until they become a singular white beam that diffuses into Jester, her body seizing in the moment as magic jump starts her muscles. The moment passes, and her body slowly lowers to the ground once more, her head settling back onto Fjord's lap as the magic fades, the chalk lines becoming inert once again. A second passes. Then ten, then thirty as the Mighty Nein waits for Jester to breathe. Fjord doesn't check for a pulse, too afraid to jostle her, as if her life was more fragile than air. He feels nothing, vision tunneling until he sees nothing but Jester, Jester, Jester, dead in his arms once more. It's all his fault. A minute. Caduceus walks over to them, stoic yet with shaking shoulders as he bends down next to Fjord. "I-I'm sorry, he whispers, placing his hands on Fjord's shoulders. "I thought it-" Jester coughs. Fjord nearly jumps back in shock but instead grabs onto her, pulling her up so her upper body was flush against his so she could cough and vomit out whatever sea water was still in her system. He pats her back, softly cooing "There you go, get it all out of ya," as she wheezes and spits, trying to ignore the squeezing in his chest as Jester looks back at him gratefully, a bit of vomit still trickling down her mouth as she croaks, "Thanks, Fjord." And then she's out of his arms and in Beau's as she comes and picks up the tiefling with a shout, twirling her around and hugging her tightly. Nott is there too, holding onto Jester's waist as much as she can. "You guys!" Jester laughs, hugging Beau back weakly, reaching down to ruffle Nott's hair as she takes in the affection. "Why are you so huggy today? I was only gone for five minutes. Fjord got me out, right?" She breaks away from the hug to turn to Fjord, only for her knees to give out under her. She falls to the floor in a heap, breathy and shaking as she tries to catch her breath. Fjord and Caleb are by her side immediately, both taking a side as they help her back to feet. "You need to rest, Jester," Caleb says, his own voice a bit shaky as she wraps an arm around his shoulder. "You've had quite a day." She sighs and nods, looking down at the floor before noticing the ties in her dress. "Oh! I have more jewelry on!" She swishes her dress and flicks her tail with muted delight, inspecting the new baubles. "Oh, Nott! Did you give these to me?" She lets go of Caleb to give Nott a one armed hug, still holding on to Fjord for support. "Thank you! But what's it for?" Nott opens her mouth to speak before glancing at Caleb, and Fjord takes this as his cue to say "Alright, Jess, time for you to sleep," and sweeps her up in his arms before she can say anything. She's cold, and he can feel her shivering. Still she manages to laugh and wrap her arms around his neck, teasing "Oh, Oskar! This is just like that once scene where-" "Yeah, okay, we're going now, take care of the ship while I'm below deck bye!" Fjord feels his cheeks warming as he strides of the deck and down the stairs, making his way into the captain's quarters. His arms are shaking with strain but he tries to ignore them, instead focusing on Jester, alive and shivering in his arms. He sets her down on the mattress, feeling her hands leave his neck as she curls up on herself, still shaking. He grabs the blanket, throwing it over her in an attempt to provide warmth. She takes it gratefully, muttering a small "thank you" as she wraps it around herself. He hums and sits down at the edge of the bed, warming her hands with one of his own, another hand stroking her hair quietly. A few minutes pass. She's still shivering, even though her hands are now warm in his own. "Jester, I'm gonna get some more blankets, alright?" He says, untangling a hand from her hair. "I'll be back." He gets up from the bed, only to find himself unable to move as blue hands reach out and grab his arm. "No!" He looks at her, sees her pale face suddenly turn a purplish hue as she turns away. "I'm not cold, Fjord. I'm just...just stay," she says, and he can't say no to her, has never been able to, so when she lifts up her blanket to let him slide under the covers he does so immediately. They both don't have any armour on, their legs knocking into each other as they settle in, making room for each other. It's awkward, at first; Fjord doesn't know what to say, not sure how to take that devastating look on her face away without crossing any boundaries, but Jester is already reaching for him tentatively. He leans into her, letting her wrap her arms around his neck as he pulls her in close, resting his chin on her forehead, letting an arm draw slow circles across her back to calm her down. Minutes pass. Jester's shaking has stopped, and she hasn't said a word so he assumes she's sleeping until she whispers something into his chest, so low that he strains to catch it. "I died yesterday, didn't I?" His breath catches. "I...wasn't sure if you would remember." It's an excuse, a hope they had all had that she wouldn't be traumatized by such an ordeal. She sighs against his chest and he pulls her closer on instinct. "I remember," she murmurs. "I remember all of it." His heart breaks for her. "Jester, I...I'm so sorry you had to go through that. If-If I had acted faster-" Jester stops him with a hush. "It's not your fault, Fjord. It's just...you went through it too, right? Without anyone?" He doesn't like to think back on those first nights, but he hums in the affirmative on top of her chin. "Must've been scary." "It-It was. But it's better, now. Easier when there's other people around. It'll get better." He feels her cheek against his chest as she nods a bit, leaning further into him. Silence takes over again, each of them lost in their thoughts yet grounded by each other. "So...what else do you remember?" Fjord asks, this time moving back so he could look at her face. She looks up at him with half lidded eyes and a small smile on her face, which only grows when she answers "Weeelllll....I remember everyone talking to me at the ritual...and I remember what you were saying last night." Shit. Fjord feels himself turn red. "I-I know I talked a lot, and, I know its sort of unfair to have only told you when you were, uh, dead, but I meant every word of it, Jester. You've changed me a lot, for the better, and you...you mean a lot to me. Like, a lot, a lot? And, fuck, I'm not sure how to explain-" "Do you like me, Fjord?" "I-" He pauses, takes a breath, and sighs, nodding. "Y-yeah. I think I like you, Jes. I think I like you a lot." She moves away from him suddenly, and for a second he thinks he's said the wrong thing at the wrong time and he moves to give her space to leave him, trying to think of what to say to diffuse the situation so he doesn't lose his best friend but in a second she's close again, this time pressing her forehead against his so that their noses brush past each other. "Good," she breathes. "Because I like you too, Fjord." His hands reach up, caressing her jawline as he closes the minuscule gap between them to brush his lips across her own once, twice before the brush becomes a firm press as she wraps her arms around his neck. They only break apart to breathe, both of them giggling as they gasp for air. They lock eyes again, and he can now see the furious blush that darkens the tieflings' face, and he can only imagine how his cheeks are. They find themselves kissing for a while, softly and slowly, drunk on relief and happiness. He feels Jester get weaker, her movements more sluggish as the events of the day truly start catching up to her. He moves up, pressing kisses on her cheeks, her drooping eyes, her forehead before pulling her close again. "Goodnight Jester," he says, and he feels her relax once more against him as she mumbles something into his chest before falling asleep in his arms. He doesn't dream of drowning this night.

So this is for the prompt Healing .This might be a bit loose of a use of the prompt, but eh.

Here’s “The Adventure Begins”.

_________________________

Caleb had never really given the days of the week much thought. They would come and things would happen, so why have a favorite? None of them had ever stood out to him as special. At least, that was before he started dming for his friends. Now he had to say that Thursdays were the best day of the week.

The group had only been playing together for a couple of months, but Caleb was already finding himself getting really into it. Now most of his free time was spent imagining new scenarios for his players, The Strong. That night’s game was promising to be a good one.

The Strong had just finished their first dungeon and gathered the components the local shopkeep, Phillip, had requested. Now all that was left for them to do was return to the village and get their money.

“Fiona should be the one that gives Phillip the supplies,” Nott suggested. It tripped up Caleb at first that her wizard had his old name Bren, but he was getting used to it.

Fjord nodded his head. “Maybe she can get us a bonus.” His fighter, Captain Tusktooth, had already been banned from price negotiation after accidentally insulting Phillip’s mother.

“Just leave Traci out of it,” Beau said. “I don’t want to do an awkward flirting session with Caleb ever again.” Caleb had to agree with that.

“That sounds like a fine plan to me,” Caduceus said. He played the firbolg cleric, Caduceus. No one was certain if he really understood the point of dungeons and dragons.

“Does that sound good to you, Jester?” asked Yasha, aka Janet their gnome rogue.

Jester smiled. “Like you guys can keep Fiona away from Phillip.” Fiona being her human bard barbarian.

“Okay, you’ve successfully made it to the village. So, what are you guys going to do now?” Caleb asked.

“Well, Fiona’s going to go to Philip’s shop,” Jester said.

Fjord grabbed a handful of chips from the communal bowl in the middle of the table “We’ll wait outside.”

“Right, so Fiona goes into the shop,” Jester said. “Is Phillip there?”

“Behind the counter of the shop, you see the familiar sight of a pale red tiefling, Philip. He smiles as he sees you come in and goes ‘Miss Fancypants. You’ve returned. Were you successful?’” Caleb liked doing Phillip’s voice. It was softer than his own and was the first NPC that Caleb had a firm grasp of.

Jester nodded. “‘Yeah!’” She did the cutest voice for Fiona and Caleb couldn’t blame Phillip for being infatuated with the bardbarian. “Fiona pulls out everything that Phillip requested from her bag. ‘Here you go!’”

“Phillip’s smile grows wider. ‘You will never cease to impress me Miss Fancypants.’”

“‘Wait until I play for you sometime. I’m going to be performing at the inn tonight.’” Jester leaned forward with a big grin on her face.

Caleb pulled out some of his notes. “‘I look forward to.’” Everyone else at the table ooohed as Jester giggled. “‘Let me go get your payment.’ Phillip grabs his crutch and makes his way to the back and keeps talking to you. ‘I’ve heard there’s good work for folk like you up north in Bucher. Folks say that there’s a kobold colony that needs wiping out up there.’”

“How’s that spelled?” Beau asked.

“B-u-c-h-e-r,” Caleb said.

Jester frowned. “‘I think we were hoping to stay here a bit longer.’”

“‘There’s not much work for you here after this.’ Phillip returns to the front with a bag of coins. ‘Here you go 45 gold just like we agreed.’”

“Fiona smiles and takes the money. ‘We’ll miss this place’,” Jester said, bt she still seemed a little sad.

Caleb rolled a die. Seventeen. He rolled another die and added two to it. Eight. “‘Then you’ll need to come visit us sometime then.’ Suddenly a spear pushes through Phillip’s chest and he slumps over dead. On the other end of the spear is a gnoll.”

The whole table erupted into screams. “You can’t do that!You can’t just kill Phillip!” Nott yelled. Jester just sat there wide eyed in shock.

“Things don’t always go as you have planned.” Caleb had actually been planning for this attack since the start of the campaign. He hadn’t expected them to get so attached to Phillip, but that made the moment all the more poignant. “What does Fiona do Jester?”

Jester sat there quietly for a moment. There were a few different options. She could run out to the others to let them know what happened, attack the gnoll by herself, or scream to bring the other characters to her. “Fiona jumps over the counter, pulls the spear out of Phillip, grabs her healing potion, and pours it into Phillip’s mouth.” Or she could do that.

“But that’s your only healing potion,” Caleb pointed out. He didn’t mean to have her waste her items on an npc.

“Well, I don’t have any healing spells, so I’ll have to use the potion,” Jester said. The Strong were only level four and only had a couple of healing potions including the one Fiona used on Phillip.

Caleb scanned the table for complaints, but the rest of the players seemed okay with Jester’s decision. He rolled for the potion and added it to Phillips sheet. “Phillip gets back up and stares at you. Don’t forget that gnoll’s still there. Actually, it’s going to attack you now. Does a 19 hit?”

“Yeah, that definitely hits,” Jester said.

Caleb rolled again. “That’s 3 damage.”

Jester wrote down her new hp count. “Okay, so Fiona picks up Phillip and disengages from the gnoll to get them both out of there.”

“Picking up Phillip counts as an action. So if you want to disengage, you’ll have to leave him there,” Caleb pointed out.

“Right, so I pick up Phillip and leave triggering the gnoll’s reaction then.”

Caleb stared at her. Phillip was just an npc. He could understand getting hurt for another character, but not an npc. Npcs were disposable. “Does 14 hit?”

“Just barely misses,” Jester said. Relief filled Caleb. He would never forgive himself if he killed Fiona Fancypants. “Fiona carries Phillip out the store and yells ‘GNOLLS!!!’ for everyone to hear.”

“And that’s when gnolls start to swarm the village. Everyone roll for initiative,” Caleb said.

Jester bit her lip looking at her notes. “Wait, Fiona didn’t grab Phillip’s crutch and he has a bad leg. If I put him down, can he get to safety?”

“He can crawl,” Caleb said.

“Okay, then Fiona will just hold him until she can put him someplace safe.” Jester mimicked like she was holding someone in real life, and Caleb could feel a blush creeping up on his face.

“You’ll get disadvantage if you do that.”

Jester shrugged still holding an invisible Phillip in her arms. “Fiona can handle it.”

“Alright then. Okay initiative. Anyone get 20-25?”

******************

Somehow the Strong managed to survive the encounter even with Fiona at disadvantage for most of the fight. Most of the group agreed that it was a fun game, but Beau did threaten Caleb if he tried to pull something like what he did to Phillip again. Jester was the last one to leave that night.

“I had a lot of fun,” Jester said. “Fiona got to save Phillip!”

Caleb smiled. “Have to admit that took me by surprise.”

Jester raised her eyebrows in confusion. “Why? Fiona adores Phillip. Besides I know that you like playing Phillip, and it’d be really sad if your character died so early in the game.”

“Oh, danke.”Caleb never really thought of it before, but if he had the option, it was Phillip that interacted with the party. It was also a lot of fun to have Phillip talk to Jester and flirt with her a little bit. Even if he wasn’t good at it. “But I’m the DM. My characters are just npcs and don’t matter much. They’re not that interesting of npcs anyways.”

“Don’t sell yourself so short Caleb,” Jester said with a hint of a pout. “Phillip’s part of why I come every week.”

A blush crept over Caleb’s face. “Really? Then I guess he better move to Bucher so you can keep seeing him.”

“That’s good cause Fiona would be heartbroken otherwise.” Jester grinned brightly, but then became more serious. “Caleb? Do you think that Phillip feels the same way about Fiona?”

“That would be meta knowledge.”

“Cay-leb,” Jester pouted. “I won’t cheat or anything. I just want to know for art purposes.”

Caleb could feel his heart beating hard as he thought about how Phillip felt about Fiona since it was the same way he felt about Jester. “I think he holds Fiona very dearly.”

Jester squealed. “But he doesn’t realize how Fiona feels about him yet does he?”

“He doesn’t believe that someone as amazing as Miss Fancypants could love a man like him.”

“He’s wrong you know. Fiona could love him real easily.” For once, Jester appeared to be one hundred percent serious.

“What about Captain Tusktooth?” Caleb asked.

Jester waved away the comment. “That’s just a fling. Besides, Fjord isn’t really interested in pc romance.”

“Ah. I’ll need to keep that in mind then.” Caleb closed his DM screen and set it on his books.

“You better. Fiona needs a whirlwind romance. I’ll see you later!”

Caleb watched her as she left and sighed. He knew that nothing could ever happen between him and Jester. But that’s what the fantasy of Dungeons and Dragons was for.

___________________________

Notes:

Phillip and Fiona Fancypants were created in the Widojest discord. We ship them so much.

____canon for cr2?

Oh friend I think you misspelled “for Caleb Widogast” there but it’s okay I got it anyway.  For the headcanon meme, which is now closed, this is the last one I’m doing.  There are a couple more queued, but we have moved on to a new meme.

HeadcanonCaleb is an incredible liar.  He doesn’t like to do it, but he knows how to pull on the mask, how to draw himself up and square his hunched shoulders, how to tip up his jaw and give the impression that he towers over a person, even if he doesn’t.  He knows the notes of confidence and the tune of condescension and the voice of authority inside out, knows how to kick his nerves aside and keep his voice steady, knows how to still his hands and look like a soldier.

He knows, above all else, how to make someone afraid.  

The Nein learn pretty quick–Fjord is their talker, their party face, and he’s good at it, but when they need someone to be scary, it’s Caleb.  Even with Yasha right there, with Beau and the might of the Cobalt Soul on hand, Caleb is the one they turn to when they need to strike fear into a heart.  Caleb, who can join a mob of soldiers in disguise and not once be questioned.  Caleb, who can keep his voice soft and tired as he threatens someone.  Caleb, who can do some indefinable something with his stance and the tilt of his head that seems to make the air cold around him, who can put away the nervous wizard and pull out a monster apparently on cue.

Beau worries about him.

(see also: Caleb calls people pet names when he tortures them)

HeartcanonCaleb has some actual programming laid into his brain, things that weren’t ripped out with the curse that took his mind–Geas spells cast with expensive scrolls and cloaked with Modify Memory and reinforced with all the tender care Ikithon heaped on his students.  Caleb wouldn’t know to look for them, and without looking, without even knowing they’re present, getting rid of them…it’s a whole other ballgame.

GutcanonFind Familiar is some basic-ass wizard shit, so…

When Caleb is fifteen, he’s a prodigy among prodigies, trained to lead a team, and so it’s only natural that he’s the first one to puzzle out how to summon a familiar.  They’ve just been taken in by Ikithon and he’s so eager to prove himself, so eager to prove he’s as smart and capable as Magister Ikithon believes he can be, and so he learns the spell in secret, casts it in the small hours of the morning when he can be relatively sure of his privacy.  Not completely sure, to be fair–sometimes they’re pulled out of bed at all hours to train, or to practice, or for corrections or supplemental work.  But he guesses right, that day, and no one interrupts him, and within the hour he’s succeeded.

“Magister,” Caleb says later that morning, trying very hard to look proper and adult, his hands at his sides even though he wants to bounce on his toes and flutter his hands and grin himself silly.  He’s done it, all on his own, through nothing but his own research.  Magister Ikithon’s going to be so proud.  “Look what I learned how to do.”

And he snaps, and the cat appears at his feet.

“Remarkable,” Magister Ikithon says evenly, and holds down a hand for the creature to inspect.  “But you know, my boy, familiars are petty magic–a distraction, really.  I’m glad you feel able to do research on your own time, but I do wish you would spend it on something less childish.”

Caleb remembers the rest of that conversation perfectly, but what stand out the most are the plummeting feeling of despair at Magister Ikithon’s disappointment, and the neutral expression on his face as he offered Caleb a knife.  He tries not to think about what happened after.

JunkcanonMy primary ship is Caleb Widogast/Some Therapy and Self-Care, and if he has had sex it was when he was seventeen and it was pretty fucked up, emotionally speaking, but that being said Molly/Caleb holds a special place in my heart and what I have to say on the matter is this:

Caleb’s pretty sure that he’s been fundamentally broken in some way, because that’s the only reason he can think of why he, of all people, craves being told what to do.  Molly pats his cheek and calls him a good boy and tells him to kneel on the floor and it feels sure and safe and like he’s not the one choosing it, which means that feeling sure and safe is allowed.  

SpleencanonI am appallingly pleased with how this is all panning out and have few to no complaints, certainly nothing I can bring to mind right now, so.

I think I have mentioned this in the past, but Avatar AU where Caleb is the Fire Nation Avatar who actually helped with the conquering and all that before the past Avatars basically revolted against the brainwashing and broke him between the proverbial rock and the hard place.  Featuring 

much younger Caleb on the run from basically everyone while he tries to find a way–any way–to undo what he did (he’s like…early twenties rather than early thirties? on account of not having been actually magically Feebleminded and losing a decade)

Nott the earthbending goblin

Jester the Earth Kingdom nobility whose mother won’t explain why she’s a waterbender

Fjord, who brings Tactical Ability to the table much more than his hit-and-miss waterbending

Beau the nonbender who nonetheless has kicked a lot of ass in her day

Yasha the airbender who was slightly kicked out of the Air Nomads for excessive violence

Mollymauk, who woke up with no memory and an apparently instinctive understanding of bloodbending–he can’t bend water for shit, but blood…that, he’s very good at

Frumpkin is Caleb’s spirit companion, and Caleb’s teacher told him that companions were a sign of weak will and kept Frumpkin away from him so completely that Caleb didn’t even know he had a companion until he escaped and a really pissed off orange cat more or less dropped directly onto his head.

I’m gonna be obvious and say Molly for that character meme

Do I like them

YES….Early on I knew he was gonna be my favorite even though I couldn’t really place why, and around episode 7 and even more with episode 8 my Mollymauk love was reaching the HEAVENS.  Episode 14 just proved this character was designed specifically to attack me.

5 good qualities

This one’s gonna be hard to describe so have a paragraph:  He doesn’t have a different set of conduct with strangers than he does with friends.  In gaming terms, he doesn’t devalue NPCs.  This is one of my favorite things about how Tal plays him–it’s like he considers himself a fellow NPC.  It’s like the difference between how people who have worked food service and those who haven’t act at a restaurant.  The nameless and faceless of the world are on the same level as the companions he travels with every day.  

For someone who’s only conscious of two years, he’s extremely thoughtful?  Like even though a lot of it seems odd, he’s obviously put a lot of time into figuring out what he believes, who he is, and what’s important to him.  And for a self-invented life philosophy it’s remarkably unselfish.

His confidence and stubborn defense of his identity!!   What a role model!

“The point of money is to make other people happy”

His philosophy of “the world is hard and cruel so do what you can to make it brighter for people in small ways” + “life isn’t fair, so do what you can to make it fair” is *chef’s kiss* (and I love how it flies in the face of this “goodness and caring = naivety” narrative that gets shoved down our throats a lot)

3 bad qualities

Liberal use of charm spells–I am dying to know what is up with this.  I need to send some questions into Talks or something to find out how it plays into his moral code.  So far he’s only used it in situations where someone is directly threatening him or his friends, but he resorts to it awfully quickly.

For someone who cares as much as he does about other people his emotional/social intelligence is like. IN THE NEGATIVES.  What he thinks he’s conveying is often so far from how it comes across or will have the opposite effect he wants.  And he probably doesn’t realize that it’s partly his fault instead of just people judging him too quickly.

Tends to assume the worst about people; his aggressive disinterest in their pasts, while a relief for people like Yasha, keeps him from growing to understanding others on a deeper level  

Favorite episode

Episode 14 is an easy answer, but my favorite Molly scene by far is the confrontation with the bandits.  It is the perfect demonstration of everything I love about him, from the hilarious one-liners to the “NPCs are people too” thing to his surprising generosity to his belief in second chances.  Like I have a lot of favorites in this campaign but that one scene cemented him as #1 forever.

OTP

Listen. LISTEN.  I was NOT going to ship until at least level 20 and how dare he and Caleb have the most perfectly-crafted parallels and contrasts and themes that could rival the literary masterpieces.  HOW DARE.

BROTP

Him and Yasha.  I was dying of happiness during the Talks episode when they described how Yasha feels safe with him, knowing that he won’t judge her or demand she share more than she’s comfortable with.  I enjoy him and Jester as surrogate siblings a lot, too, though they seem to be less close since she used the zone of truth on him.

OT3

Hrm…I don’t really ship him with Fjord or any of the girls in M9….so I’m gonna have to wait to see if some NPC shows up that could be involved lol

NOTP

The thought of Molly/Beau is as distasteful to me as it no doubt is to them.

Best Quote:

ALL OF THEM?

“Personal question: is there anyone alive in here?”

“Joy can fill a lot of a person’s life”

“Don’t criticize new management until it’s had time to take effect!”

“I am your god now, long may I reign.”

“Mr. Caleb…there are only so many burdens we can bear.”

“Do you feel that your current leadership has failed you on some level?!”

Literally everything about identity in Ep 14

Headcanon

Molly has ADHD (and yes I am projecting).  He tunes out of conversations he’s not involved in too easily, pre-plans his sentences and tends to trip on his words halfway through if he doesn’t, has to siphon off all that nervous energy by playing with his tarot cards, regularly inventories everything he has so he doesn’t lose things, and daydreams a lot.  Also, Taliesin can pry claustrophobic Mollymauk from my cold dead hands.  ALSO this is more interpretation than headcanon but Molly is ten thousand percent introvert, and because his existence is so loud people miss how quiet he is most of the time.

Something New for Me and You

• (start) (prev) (next) •

Chapter 7:  The Light of Early-Morning Winter

“Here,” Molly said as he walked out of the kitchen with a tray of teacups, “it’s passionflower. It’s supposed to be calming, which I think we could probably use right about now.”

They were all seated around his and Fjord’s coffee table, sprawled atop a sea of technicolor cushions and blankets. Those, along with the bright floral wallpaper, plush carpet, lace doilies on the TV stand, and deeply gaudy 15-foot tapestry to the Platinum Dragon hanging on their left, only added to the general feeling that this living room had been decorated by a colorblind, rules-blind, shame-blind maniac with too many tastes, too much funding, and altogether too much free time.

So, Mollymauk.

He finished passing around the cups and took a seat on the floor next to Yasha. “Careful,” he added, “they’re still hot.”

“It smells very nice.” Caleb noted. He and Nott were also on the ground, across the table and leaning against the couch where Fjord rested, hands on his ribs, head in Jester’s lap. Beau was perched on the armrest of the sofa opposite them.

“Thank you, dear,” Molly said. “I rather think so too.”

Jester nodded enthusiastically. “It’s really nice. Where’d you buy it?”

“I didn’t, actually. It was a gift from a…a bar patron. She said she got it from some exotic tea shop.”

“Exotic?” Beau echoed.

Molly shot her a grin. “According to the owner, all of the flowers were grown in a graveyard.”

Fjord nearly spat out his drink. “How long’ve you been making this in our kitchen?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh, months.”

Fjord gazed morosely into his cup. “Spooky.”

“I think it’s neat,” Molly shrugged. “I’d love to visit that graveyard, one day. Meet the owner.”

Nott eyed her drink suspiciously. “How’s this supposed to calm you without any alcohol?” she demanded. Her gnome disguise had long faded by now, leaving behind a goblin girl in a tattered hoodie. There was a crossbow casually resting next to her on the carpet.

“Tea has soothing effects,” Molly said. “Look it up.”

She considered this. She took a swig, then made a face. The others drank too, with varying degrees of satisfaction (Caleb, Yasha, Jester, Beau) and disgust (Fjord).

For a while they just sat there in silence, nursing the graveyard tea, listening through the walls to the distant sounds typical of apartment life, trying to wrap their minds around what had just happened. Each one of them looked like they had just run a marathon and gotten pummeled at the end—Beau and Yasha were bruised to hell, Molly had a thick bandage wrapped around his palm, Jester’s dress was torn and Nott’s covered in mud and Caleb’s entire body smelled like a forest fire.

And all of them were acutely aware that if not for a certain blue cleric, there was a chance that Fjord might not have been sitting with them in the living room, tonight.

Thankfully, he was. And he was also sighing now, turning to the rest of the group. “So…” he said slowly, “should we maybe talk about…what just happened?”

Then he gestured vaguely over to Molly’s bedroom door. “And about what to do with Toya? She’s unconscious now, but when she wakes up and realizes that we’ve suddenly kidnapped her—”

“We didn’t, though,” Beau said immediately. “We stopped someone who was trying to kidnap her.”

Molly pinched the bridge of his nose. “Technically…I suppose you’re right,” he said, “but I don’t know if she’ll see it that way. She was part of the troupe, but nobody actually had custody of her. We found her on the streets, for the gods’ sake. But Kylre was her constant companion. Probably her best friend. What he was doing might have been ill-conceived and suspicious and wrong—

“—and creepy,” Beau added.

“—but out of all of us, she was definitely closest to him.”

Yasha nodded. “When she wakes and sees that Kylre is missing, she will not react well.”

“The only good part is that at least she’ll recognize us,” Molly sighed. Then he kicked the coffee table half-heartedly and slumped his shoulders. “I don’t understand why Kylre ever attacked like that. He knows us.”

“He probably felt cornered and resorted to instinct,” Yasha reasoned.

“To be completely fair,” Beau pointed out, “he didn’t actually do anything until Jester blasted him full of…of fuckin’ holy light, or whatever.”

“He threw Fjord against a wall,” said cleric responded testily. “And it wasn’t 100% on purpose.”

Fjord hesitated. “Is that…should I be thanking you for that?”

She shrugged and said anyways, “You’re welcome.”

“I just never thought he could do something like that,” Molly muttered glumly.

“Well,” Caleb shrugged and took another sip of tea. “I can understand attacking someone who tried to control me with magic.”

There was a pause, where the rest stared at him in silence.  

It took him a few seconds to notice. “What?” he asked, lowering his cup. “Why are you all looking at me?”

“What do you mean by, by…control with magic?” Molly asked.

Caleb blinked. “Was? Obviously, your Friends spell did not go over well. Do not worry, it is a reasonable reaction.”

Molly gave him a puzzled frown. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I didn’t cast any spell. I don’t even know how to do that.”

Caleb looked just as confused as Molly felt. “But you did,” he pressed. “I saw you do it. All of us did, no?”

This elicited a round of shrugging.

“If I did, I couldn’t tell you,” Fjord said. “I don’t…uh…I don’t really know much about magic.”

“Neither do I,” said Yasha.

“I know a little,” Beau admitted.

“I know a bunch,” Jester said, “but nothing about wizard magic.”

“And I don’t have Friends,” Nott added.  

Caleb rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Well, you did,” he said. “I should know. Maybe it is a tiefling thing, and you are only just coming into your abilities. Unless you have prior magical training…?”

Molly instantly shook his head. “None,” he said. “None at all.”

Nobody else caught it, but Yasha frowned slightly and turned to look at him

“I’ve got natural magic,” Jester volunteered. “You probably do too.”

“I buy that,” Fjord sighed, shifting on the cushions. “And it makes sense if he panicked at your…your mind control, or whatever. But why did he bolt from the Moondrop in the first place?”

“Oh, that one’s easy,” Nott said. “He looks like a monster. If he were there at the scene of the crime, they’d blame him.”

They paused and that sink in. Jester silently reached down and pulled Nott up onto the couch with her, plopping the little goblin onto her knee and nudging Fjord aside.

“Well alright then,” Beau said eventually. “Asked and answered.”

“Unless,” Caleb said quietly, tapping his chin, “unless Kylre was guilty. Hear me out,” he added, raising his hands quickly. “Remember, he got worried when we said that we had taken care of that strange grey creature. Like he was afraid of us, for destroying it. Not glad that it was gone, or relieved it was no longer rampaging and threatening his home. Why? Perhaps because he thought we knew something, and we were coming after the source next.”

They took a moment to consider this.

After a while, Molly shook his head and shrugged. “Maybe,” he conceded. “Maybe that’s possible. But it’s awful that we just left him there. Even if we had no choice. It still feels like we abandoned him.”

Caleb nodded solemnly. “Understood,” he said.

“I hope they are not too hard on him,” Yasha sighed. “The best case would be they just arrest him and release him with Gustav when everything is over.”

“That would be ideal,” Fjord agreed. “Especially if he is innocent.”

Molly leaned back glumly, resting his head on the pillows. “This whole thing was a mess,” he mumbled. “And now I’m bleeding and exhausted and covered in mud.”

“You could take a shower,” Jester suggested. “It is your house.”

He cracked a smile at that. “I might. All of you can as well,” he added, “since we’re rather filthy.”

“I feel fine,” Nott said immediately. “No need for any of that.”

As Molly shot her a skeptical glance, Fjord closed his eyes and draped an arm over his face. “What time is it?” he asked.

Beau glanced at her phone. “Twelve forty-two,” she said.

He nodded. “In that case, y’all are also more than welcome to stay the night,” he said. “The streets are crawling with police right now, and I have a feeling you wouldn’t wanna run into them. Plus, it’s not the safest, afterhours.” He gestured vaguely at the room around them. “This probably isn’t the most glamorous place to be, but there are plenty of blankets and cushions in the living room, and we can grab some quilts off me and Molly’s beds. I know for sure I ain’t moving any more than I have to, tonight. The couch is it, for me. And there’s a little dwarf girl in Mol’s room.”

“Oooh!” Jester grinned immediately. “A sleepover! We can all stay out here and keep them company!”

“Yeah, sure,” Beau shrugged. “It would be boring at home without you anyways, Jes.”

“I would like to avoid the police,” Yasha said quietly. “I do not want to explain to them why I am still outdoors after the Detective Sergeant told me to go inside.”

“And it’s been a bit since our days bunking together in the old dressing room, eh?” Molly added in an attempt to lighten the mood. Yasha nodded back with a faint smile.

Caleb glanced at Nott, who had at this point almost completely submerged herself into a pile of pillows. Despite having survived two ridiculous battles today, she looked brighter—and warmer—than she ever had in their apartment.

“If you are alright with us staying,” Caleb said slowly, “then we will definitely take up that offer.”

Nott immediately nodded her agreement and burrowed deeper into the nest.

“Heck yeah!” Jester beamed. “Oh, it’ll be so much fun, we can stay up and braid each other’s hair, and tell each other stories, and—”

Molly put a hand up and gave her a weak smile. “Jester, dear,” he said gently, “normally I would be all for that, but do you think maybe tonight we could just take it easy and get some real rest? I, no joke, lost blood tonight. And I’m pretty sure we desperately need the sleep.”

Jester’s shoulders slumped, but she took in the worn-out shapes of Beau and Yasha, the wrecked ribcage of Fjord, and the ragged faces of Caleb, Nott, and Molly. Her expression turned soft and she nodded.

“Of course,” she smiled. “Here, I’ll help you get some quilts.”

Molly stood up slowly and extended an elbow for her to take, and she giggled and did.

“We’ll be back,” he said. “I’ll grab some more tea, too. In the meantime, all of you clean up! I don’t want my stuff getting any dirtier than it already has.”

• 

“Hey!” Molly stuck his head into the bathroom, nearly scaring the life out of Caleb. “Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled, gesturing in a calming manner. “I just brought you a toothbrush. And you can use my razor if you need to. It’s the purple one.”

Caleb was standing in front of the mirror, examining his face and wiping the grime away from his skin with a towel Jester had launched at him not ten minutes ago. Being this careful with his personal grooming was still somewhat new to him, but he felt like he needed to make an effort in someone else’s home. His battered coat dangled off the back of the door, and his tie hung limply from one of the pockets.

“Oh,” he said, turning around. “Ah…thank you. I should be fine, but the toothbrush is appreciated.”

He took it from Molly’s hands, and then paused.

“I just…uh…I just wanted to say, there is no shame in casting magic unawares,” he said slowly.

Molly raised an eyebrow and his lips quirked into a confused smile. “Whatever do you mean, dear?” he asked.

Caleb blinked and tried again. “Just that…well…you seemed somewhat bothered before when I said that you had cast Friends. It is not unheard of, when emotions are running high, to accidentally trigger a spell. I have done it once or twice without meaning to, just on instinct. You are not alone there.”

Molly immediately opened his mouth to say something. And then he paused, and closed it again.

He met Caleb’s concerned gaze and nodded. “Okay,” he said. His tone was much more subdued than before. “That’s…uh…that’s good to know, I think. Thank you.”

“Er…no problem?”

Molly nodded. Then his expression brightened again and he said, “Hey! Hey, let me also grab you some pajamas. I can definitely find you something better for the night than muddy performance attire.”

“Er…er…I am fine though,” Caleb said, thrown by the sudden shift in conversation. “I do not, uh, need anything fancy.”

Molly snorted. “You’re already wearing fancy, dear. I can’t imagine that a collared shirt and slacks are comfortable to sleep in. Let me lend you something! I must have another t-shirt and some clean boxers somewhere.”

Caleb’s ears went red. He hoped that Molly wouldn’t notice. “Really,” he said. “Really, I am fine—”

Molly shook his head and waved a finger in front of Caleb’s nose. “Nonsense!” he said. “You’re my guest tonight. I’ve got to make sure you’ve got everything you need. Besides, Beau already stole some of Fjord’s stuff, and Jester keeps a spare set of pajamas here. We managed to find a t-shirt that fit Yasha and I convinced Nott to take one from me already as well. So it’s only you left, Mister Caleb.”

Caleb considered mounting a defense. He had the words on the tip of his tongue, until he caught Molly’s pleading eyes and excited grin. He sighed and nodded in defeat. “Sure,” he said. “Ja, okay. But not anything too ridiculous, alright?”

Molly put a hand over his heart. “Ridiculous? What do you take me for?”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. ���There are lace doilies on your TV stand,” he said.

Molly laughed. “Point taken,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.” Then winked and vanished behind the doorframe.

Caleb looked down at the toothbrush in his hands. It was bright purple, with glittery pink flowers on it. He wondered what store in the world would carry something like this. Then he sighed again, and reached for the toothpaste.

•

“Those were, uh, those were some pretty sick moves,” Beau said over the basket of dirty clothes in her arms. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

Yasha, swinging a bottle of liquid detergent in her hands, paused. “Er…nowhere, really,” she said slowly. “I just sort of…learned.”

She crouched down in front of Molly and Fjord’s washing machine and motioned for Beau to pass over the laundry.

“Where did you learn your skills?” she asked absent-mindedly, gaze fixed on the series of dials before her. “You handled yourself well in the fight. Both of them.”

She was so busy trying to decide if their clothes were dirty enough to justify using the “heavy-duty” setting that she completely missed Beau’s eyes going wide and cheeks turning red.

“Uh…nowhere also,” came the somewhat strained reply. “I also just…kinda…learned them.”

Yasha settled on “ultra-clean,” and started pouring detergent in.

“It was impressive,” she said. “Like you had been in real fights before.”

Beau snorted. “Of course I’ve been in real fights,” she said. “I’m a bouncer, remember? I might not look as tough as you, but I can handle myself in a scrap.”

“I will admit,” and here Yasha reached for the laundry basket, “I was somewhat worried about you during the battles. You are just so…small.” Then she immediately turned around and met Beau’s incredulous expression and added hastily, “Not, not in a bad way! Not that you are weak, or defenseless, or…er…” she trailed off and rubbed the back of her neck. “You are just surprising,” she finished lamely. “That is all.”

In the awkward silence that followed, Beau struggled to form a response. She settled on:

“Uh…thanks?”

“You are…welcome.”

Behind them, water started pouring out of the washing machine. Their attention instantly shifted.

“Quick!” Beau yelled, gesturing wildly. “Quick, quick, close it!”

Without even a moment’s hesitation, Yasha whirled around and kicked the machine’s door. It swung shut with a loud clunk. The flood stopped, leaving them standing in a shallow puddle of foamy, soapy water.

“I’ll just…uh…get a mop, then?” Beau suggested eventually.

Yasha nodded slowly. “I think…yes. I think that would be a good idea.”

•

“Are you comfy?” Jester asked Fjord, handing him another pillow. From somewhere else in the apartment she suddenly heard the sound of bare feet slapping wetly against hardwood floors, then a strange skidding noise, then the crash of someone colliding with the hallway closet.

They both immediately elected to ignore this.

“Plenty comfortable,” he answered, giving her a faint smile. “Thanks a million again, Jes. Really. I’m pretty sure I owe you my life for gettin’ me outta that scrap in one piece.”

“Aww,” she beamed, “it was nothing.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t, though. Seriously, that was some pretty incredible magic. I mean, I knew you could heal, I’ve seen you do it with papercuts and stuff before, but…but Jester, I had a shattered ribcage. And now it’s…it’s fixed. How did you even do that?”

She shrugged. “The same way I do the other stuff!” she said. “We talked about it before, it was the Traveler! He gives me all sorts of cool powers.”

“Yeah,” Fjord said, “yeah, I remember that. I just…I didn’t know he could do…all that.”

“He’s a god, silly,” Jester giggled. “He can do anything.”

Fjord nodded slowly. “Right. Right, of course. Hey, uh, just out of curiosity, how much do you think he—”

“Alright!” Molly announced, entering the living room. He was now in his silk pajamas, being trailed by a very reluctant, very embarrassed-looking Caleb dressed in an oversized rainbow t-shirt and what appeared to be a pair of long, rainbow tie-dyed pants of indeterminate material, completely covered with images of smiling cat heads. They were obviously meant for someone taller, and completely obscured his feet.

Fjord had seen these pants before, worn by Molly unironically a few months ago. Jester had never seen this much color on Caleb’s body before.

Nott emerged from her cocoon of blankets under the coffee table and gave him a cursory once-over.

“Well…” she said eventually, “I’ll support you if this is how you want to dress from now. It’s very…flashy.”

“You. Look. Amazing!” Jester declared, running over to admire the outfit in closer detail. “Where did you get these?”

Molly grinned. “I have no idea,” he said. “That’s the best part, really.”

Caleb had his hands on his face now, to prevent anybody from making eye contact with him. “It was the most tame thing in Mollymauk’s closet,” he said dejectedly. “It was either this or a suit made of sequins, some sort of leather harness, lederhosen, or a vampire cloak.”

“Or paisley,” Molly added helpfully. “There was a lot of paisley.”

“Right,” Caleb mumbled. “That too.”

“I’m making this my new phone background,” Jester said, reaching for her cell. “I’m going to take photos and then print out copies and then staple them to every telephone pole in this city.”

“Please no,” Caleb protested weakly. “Just…no.”

“Let’s spare the poor man and just keep some blackmail images for ourselves, eh?” Molly suggested. “Some things are better kept private, after all.”

Jester laughed. “Okay, okay,” she said. “But I wasn’t kidding about the phone background part.”

Then Beau and Yasha emerged from the hallway as well. They were also dressed in baggy t-shirts, but their shorts were much more tame and definitely had come from Fjord. Strangely, their feet were soaked. As they approached, they both stopped in their tracks and stared at Caleb.

“You look like a pride parade threw up on your ass,” Beau said. “And then a cat shelter.”

“Do those belong to Mollymauk?” Yasha asked.

“Can we please just go to bed?” Caleb groaned. “Please? Lights off and nobody looking at my legs?”

Beau snorted. “If I know Molly, it’s not the legs he’s—”

She was cut off as Yasha pointedly nudged her with an elbow and shook her head. Beau pouted, but relented.

Molly gave a cough and glared at Beau. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, I think maybe going to bed is a good idea. 2AM seems like the perfect time finally get some sleep, huh?”

“Amen to that,” Fjord called from the couch. “I’m not talking to any of you anymore, until I’ve had a full eight hours.”

Jester yawned and nodded. “Sounds good to me,” she said. “Besides, I used a lot of magic today and I’m pretty tired.”

Molly waltzed over to the wall and shut the lights, letting a quiet blanket of darkness settle over the apartment.

“Good night, everyone,” he grinned. His eyes glimmered red in the gloom. “Sleep tight. And don’t let the goblins bite.”

“Fuck you,” Nott grumbled. Her voice was muffled by her pillow fortress.

And then, with that, the group finally settled in for well-deserved late-night—early-morning—rest.

•

Today 2:28 AM

Molly Tealeaf: well, what a mess eh, mister caleb? Molly Tealeaf: im so sorry the night didn’t turn out the way id hoped Molly Tealeaf: and im sorry we ended up having to fight two insane monsters Molly Tealeaf: if im being frank, it was a load of bullshite Molly Tealeaf: an quite a bit happened that I really could have done without Molly Tealeaf: including that magic nonsense you were going on about earlier Molly Tealeaf: but hey! Molly Tealeaf: i AM still happy you decided to come Molly Tealeaf: perhaps i’ll get to sing for you another time Molly Tealeaf: and nice moves! Molly Tealeaf: where’d you learn to cast spells like that? Molly Tealeaf: don’t worry, I know I won’t be getting an answer ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Molly Tealeaf: good night, sleep tight Molly Tealeaf: I hope my living room floor suffices!

 •

“Hey, asshole! Hey, hey, asshole, get up!”

Molly groaned loudly, shook his head, turned over, and awoke to see a mouth full of razor-sharp, crooked teeth hovering about four inches above his head.

It smelled like hot spit, and death.

As Molly took a moment to recover from the abject terror coursing through his body, Nott tapped her fingernails impatiently against her knee. Eventually, he rubbed his eyes and managed to sit up.

“What the fuck,” he asked groggily.

She pointed to the TV set. The rest of the group were already awake and gathered around the screen, peering intently at whatever was playing at the moment in the dim light of early-morning winter.

Molly followed their gazes. It was the morning news.

—a scene of carnage last night at the Moondrop & Fletching, where during the establishment’s 25th Anniversary Performance, a member of the audience transformed into a creature that immediately began attacking the other patrons. After a brief battle, it was subdued by the brave members of our city’s Crownsguard—

“Hey, that’s a lie!” Jester frowned, but was immediately shushed by the rest.

—of this morning, clerics have confirmed that the main suspect, owner Gustav Fletching, is innocent. The real culprit, identified by police as one of the performers, was captured at around 1:30AM not three blocks away, hiding in a Menagerie Merchant Company warehouse along the Eistus Marina. This individual reportedly masqueraded as a common lizard-man among the Moondrop’s other performers for two years, concealing his true identity as a Nergaliid. Better known as “devil toads,” Nergaliids are fiendish creatures originating from the wastelands of Xhorhas—

“What?” Molly shouted.

“Hang on, hang on, shut up,” Beau said.

—a common feeding pattern for these terrible monsters. Police are now working with monks of the Cobalt Soul to investigate if this was a singular event, or if it was in any way connected to the recent string of skirmishes along the Xhorhastian border. This is Cora Underbough, reporting for the Daily Crier from the King’s Hall. Stay tuned for more updates—

Nott lowered the volume and set the remote back down onto the coffee table.

“That’s why I woke you all up,” she said. “That, and I was starting to get bored.”

“Thank you,” Caleb said, rubbing his eyes. “Very…informative.”

“A what?” Molly repeated. “He was a what?”

“Nergaliid,” Beau said. “Open your ears.”

Molly shot her a half-hearted glare. “I heard what she said,” he muttered. “I was just…just expressing my shock.”

Yasha nodded slowly. “I admit…I did not realize what he was either. I always thought…I mean…he told us he was a lizard-man, and we believed him.”

“Are we sure that he really is a, a, a nerg-thing, though?” Jester asked. “What if it’s just the city looking for a goat to scrape?”

“A scapegoat?” Fjord asked.

“Yeah, that one.”

Beau shrugged. “It’s possible,” she said, “but to be completely honest, if the Cobalt Soul is involved, then it’s probably the truth. Those fuckers hate lying, even for the government. It goes against their beliefs, and stuff.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

Beau gave another shrug, this one more evasive. “Dunno for sure,” she said lightly. “I guess it’s one of those things I just sorta picked up. Through like…social osmosis.”

Caleb understandably did not seem convinced, but he dropped the subject.

Molly sighed. “I just…I just can’t believe any of that. I mean…it seems wrong, doesn’t it? Doesn’t it feel like—”

And then he paused, as a wave of, of…something suddenly washed over him. It felt like he was being engulfed by sensations, his vision blurring and his hearing fading. For a split second, his mind was flooded with an inundation of knowledge, of information, of foreign memories that told him: that’s it, that’s exactly it, how could you have missed it? The large stature, the ragged speech, the glowing eyes and thick scales and long tongue, the way he clung to living things and held Toya close, of course it was a Nergaliid, of course it was, how did you miss that—

He shook his head. He blinked a few times, and saw his friends staring back at him with extremely concerned expressions.

“Are you…alright?” Yasha asked.

Molly hesistated. He waited to see if any other intrusive thoughts would strike, and when none did, he gave her a faint smile.

“Of course I am, dear,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well,” Beau said, “maybe it’s ‘casue you just completely spaced out and you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and—”

And then, the door to Molly’s room opened.

A very small dwarven girl in a long white dress came out, rubbing her eyes and looking thoroughly bewildered.

She met the gazes of the group sitting in the living room. She saw Molly and Yasha, and her confusion grew.

“Um…” she said softly, voice breaking like gravel underfoot, “…um, where am I? What’s going on?”

Molly glanced over at Yasha. “What time is it?” he asked quietly.

She checked her phone. “Almost seven.”

Molly nodded. “Do you think you could shoot the whole gang a text? See what’s going on, maybe if we can get a meeting together? If the news is right then Gustav should be out by now. I feel like…I feel like we all need to have a chat.”

Then he turned towards Toya and gave her a gentle smile. “I’ll fill you in on everything, dear,” he said. “But first, maybe you’d like some breakfast?”

He nodded to the rest of the group. “You all, too. I make great blueberry pancakes.”

•

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