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Chapter Text

He wakes slowly, body heavy with sleep.

His eyes squint open to a grey sky, partially concealed in the swaying boughs of a large tree, the smooth grey flesh dotted with bright buds of green leaves. The air smells of a spring storm, of hay, of wet black dirt, and a curl of pipe smoke. Dimly he feels a thought form in his oddly-quiet mind, unbidden.

Home.

His eyes snap open as he heaves himself up, the haze of sleep falling away. His eyes widen as he looks around, heart beginning to pound in his thin chest. Golden fields stretch as far as he can see, the tall grass undulating in the strong breeze - the dull roar of the rasping dry blades familiar.

He struggles to his feet, reaching to grasp the tree for balance, the smooth bark cool under his palm. With a shock he realizes that he does not know what time it is - ever since he was a child, he has always known the time, how can he not know the time -

Think, Widogast. It's what you’re good for.

He squeezes his eyes shut, leaning hard against the tree. The wind catches his long hair, tossing it into his face. He wills himself to calm, reaching for a strip of leather in his coat to tie it back. He realizes with another shock that his coat is missing - he looks down to see that he is clad simply, brown trousers and an open necked white shirt, his feet bare. He scrubs a shaking hand over his jaw, his mind beginning to race.

A dream then. We were in...where were we? We were in...Trostenwald? No, Rosohna, we had that meeting with…

He slaps his cheek, hard, the sensation full and stinging. His mind has never been so...scattered, so scrambled. He had been blessed, or cursed, with a mind that surrendered nothing. “Like a steel trap,” his father would say proudly, a massive calloused hand slapping his back.

He had often longed to forget, if it meant a respite from the ever present whirling of his thoughts. The only thing that had given that respite had almost fully taken his mind.

He knew better now. A mind like his could give him misery, but it was better than losing himself. His mind could be just as good as a sword, just as quick, and far more deadly. A mind like his could summon death in one breath and safety in the other. A mind like his could hurt people - but it could also protect them.

Where are they?

He sighs, the sound ragged as he opens his eyes once more, turning his head to look. More fields greet him, but in the distance he can see a small plume of smoke.

There is nothing else here - this must be where the dream wants me.

He takes a deep breath, reaching for the last memory he can recall. A trip to Roshona, a meeting with the Bright Queen. A mission - back to the mines, where they had lost Yasha - Leylas had asked them to return, a reconnaissance mission to gain information against the Crawling King. With the war ended, they had more time to pursue the entity. He remembered the journey - he was able to transport them this time, a journey of two weeks in six seconds. The Queen had offered aid in the form of more casters, but they rejected it. He can no longer remember why.

He felt his mind calm as more memories came, recalling the tight expression on Yasha’s face as the Bright Queen gave them their mission, Beau catching his eye in the chamber as they spoke with Leylas, her own tension masked thinly. After a thirty minute debate in another room, they had agreed to go. He remembered rubbing his arms at the sudden ice that had filled his veins.

They had just made it to the mines, and Jester had made him laugh when she said that maybe Yarnball and the others had made it to the fort and were waiting for them. Jester, her eyes large and playful as she argued that he could save a spell if they just rode the Moorbounders home, the Moorbounders they had killed demons for, after all. Jester rolling her eyes affectionately as Beau reminded her that she had killed the demon, ripped its heart out for good measure. Jester had been unaffected, asserting that, “We’ve all pretty much killed demons at this point, Beau,”

He reaches for more, but everything after he brought them to the fort just...isn’t there. Like his time in the Asylum - reaching for a familiar hand and finding only air. He could feel the same haze that had ruled him pressing on the edge of his mind, almost to the point of domination. He presses his hands to his temple, imagining arcane runes in an attempt to ground himself.

He has been conscious in dreams before, but it has never felt like this.

Just wait it out. Do what the dream says. Move, Widogast.

He wills his feet to walk, shaking legs gathering strength as he leaves the tree. The ground is soft beneath his feet, the wind strong against him as it roars through the grass. It looks a bit like the ocean, he thinks, and his heart aches to think of it - Nicodranas, blue and glittering.

Jester, her strong shoulders studded with diamonds under her thin strapped dress, body like the waves as she moves with him on the salt sprayed ship deck. Trying not to think of before, when the first inkling of his useless affection had bloomed. Jester’s kind eyes on his, her cool hands strong around his own.

“I won’t let you fall asleep in a gutter, Cay-leb.”

They had been working on the deck when Jester told Veth that it was her fault no one got to dance at the party. Veth had protested that they could dance whenever they wanted. Jester scrunching her face, a flash of frustration blinked away in a moment; a glance over his spell book meeting her looking from her sketch. Something possessed him to grab Jester’s hand and spin her across the deck, feeling courageous as he watched the setting sun cast her face in golden half-light. Her mouth opened in surprise as she laughed, her body falling close to his as she caught a loose step.

Orly hoisting himself from below with a blast of music. Yasha watched from a barrel with her strange, knowing eyes, Veth setting her potions down to clap in time, grinning at him with what he realized was pride. Orly playing a waltz against the rhythm of the waves, the abrasive accordion played softly, slowly - a cracked grin across the tortle’s face. Jester, falling against him with a huffed laugh, her eyes sparkling as they met his - an impossible violet against cool blue. The press of her body, strong and steady against his as she kissed him on the cheek, the heat flooding down his neck from the quick press of her cool lips.

Focus, Widogast.

The wind begins to ebb as he makes progress, and he realizes that the smoke is that of a chimney, pale and curling. As he comes closer he can smell a meal in works, and he remembers skinning rabbits with his father, the lean meat roasted slowly with the herbs from his mother's garden. A pot of salted green beans simmering on their small stove, potatoes from the root cellar peeled and chopped into stew.

As he walks the smoke seems to come closer, yet he sees nothing but the glinting grass beyond his flattened path. He wonders if this will be the dream, and he will soon wake to the snuffling snores of Beauregard in the bubble or the soft breath of Veth near him in a shared room. The thought is comforting, tempting.

Soon he will wake in the warm dome, Veth behind his legs, his family around him. Jester, warm and safe, across from him, warm under a thin sheet, Fjord at her back with the blanket he always stole. Yasha and Caduceus,their long limbs falling over each other. Beau turning from her watch towards him with a thoughtful smile, her tiara glinting in her hair against the rising sun.

He hears a crashing sound behind him and spins, stumbling before he rights himself. He scans the fields, his heartbeat in his ears as he wills a Fire Bolt to his raised palm. The warm rush of arcane energy does not come. He begins to shake once more, his hand reaching to scratch at his arms out of anxiety. Dimly he feels the clouds break, the sun warm on his neck. He raises his eyes to the sky - pale blue, as he knew it would be, as it always was. The sun is where it should be if it was 12:26 PM - but his clock, his ever present certainty like a master timepiece in the meat of his brain is not there.

“Gottverdamnt!” He curses, slapping his cheek hard, working the sting out of his jaw as he turns back to the smoke, only to feel the breath leave his body.

A hundred yards ahead is now a house - small, the white stone and dark wood achingly familiar. The window boxes his father had built are blooming with tiny yellow flowers. There is the laundry line in the back, a sheet moving gently in the dying wind. A ginger cat ambles through the yard, and he can hear the soft clucking of chickens from where he knows they are under the creaking coop in the back.

And in the open doorway, the doorway that he had shoved a cart in front of as the house in front of him burned with fire from his hands, stands a woman with a basket of laundry on her hip. Her grey - streaked copper hair blows loosely around her sharp face, and her mouth falls open as her dark green eyes grow wide.

He falls to his knees as his memory returns, clutching his head in pain.

They made it past the cave where they had lost Yasha, and through a bad fight - demon creatures that emerged from the darkness, a good sign that they were on the right track. Beau had gone down, and was barely revived and breathing in Yasha’s arms when Caduceus had heard a rumble. The ground began to quake as they ran, causing stalactites to fall. They were running, the next chamber so close and - it happened so fast. He remembers the sound, how unbearably loud it was, and a quick, indescribable pain. Veth screaming his name, Jester’s Infernal screech and - silence.

Not a dream then. A nightmare.

He turns his eyes back to the woman, to Una, to Mutter, looking through his fingers like a frightened child. He wants to run, to scream, to do anything - how is he even here, where is this place, what is happening - he should be in the hells -

The basket tumbles from her hands as she runs to him, and suddenly she is there. Bright hair fills his vision as she kneels before him, her shaking hands raised. He flinches as her calloused hands gingerly cup the sides of his face. He meets her eyes, her face slack with shock. She looks the same, younger even, the high planes of her face smooth and unlined as her bright eyes search his face, her long fingers - his long fingers - gripping him with vice like strength. Tears roll down her face, the fresh sun sending them into sparkling fractals.

She looks on him with...with wonder, and it is too much, it's so much. A sound tears out of his chest, like a wounded animal, and gasps at the terror and awe that fills his soul in a way his body had never allowed. The weight of the years press upon him - the avarice in Astrid’s eyes, the white hot pain of the crystals, the smell of their flesh in the fire.

He begins to sob as he falls into her, breathing in the scent of his mother as he presses his head into her shoulder. She wraps her arms around him, carding a hand through his loose hair with trembling fingers. She begins to whisper as she rocks him, and the sound of her voices sends a fresh spasm of shame and grief down his spine. He bites his tongue and sruggles to breathe, desperate to hear her.

He weakly grips at her shirt as she speaks what he is thinking, her long dead voice full of pain and affection,

“Bren, mein shatz, why are you here?”

Chapter Text

Caduceus grimaces as he skids into the ground, ears ringing as screams echo off of the cave walls.

He sucks in a harsh breath, reaching for his staff. Gripping it tightly he presses himself up, activating the crystal with a dull thok on the cold stone. The Nein lay crumpled behind him. He turns to limp towards them, the dull pink glow of the crystal the only light in the half - collapsed cavern.

Yasha is nearest, curled around a hacking, sobbing Beau on the ground. He sees Jester still on her belly, and limps to her, placing a hand on her shoulder and shaking slightly. Her violet eyes open and meet his in the darkness, her face contorted with agony as she breathes heavily, pushing herself onto her knees. Caduceus gives her what he hopes is a comforting nod as he turns and limps away to see Fjord - on his knees holding Veth as she struggles and scratches at him, legs kicking wildly.

“Let me go! He’s in there let me go! Caleb! CALEB!” She screams shrilly, her round face streaked with blood and tears as she fights in Fjords arms. Fjord sinks backwards, gripping the halfling tightly as she sobs, her screams sending flinches across his handsome face as they reverberated.

Fjord looks to him as Caduceus limps forward and raises his staff, revealing what Fjord can already see - the cave they were just in is partially collapsed, stones and dust still falling, the tumbling clicks echoing. He raises his staff as far as he can - the chamber had not been high, perhaps seventy feet. The collapse had not been complete, but the rubble was at least fifteen foot high. Caleb had been close, but separated in the fight - he wasn’t far behind them.

But he was not alive. That much Caduceus knew.

He turned back, Fjord grunting as Nott squirmed, her teeth sinking into the half-orcs flesh as he held her with a silent grimace. Caduceus closed his eyes - he was almost tapped, and the rubble was too high to evacuate without help, or rest. He lowered his head, willing Calm Emotions to flow from the crystal, his companions quieting as the spell wove around and through them.

Veths screams begin to quiet as she sags in Fjord's arms, her reedy voice moaning quietly as Beau continues to hack and gasp.

Caduceus felt a soft touch at his elbow, and looked down to see Jester, her small hand cool on his arm as she looked into the piled rubble, small rocks still rolling and trickling. Her eyes almost glow in the pink light, the bright violet dim and red-rimmed.

“Its too late, isn’t it,” She says, her voice low. He merely nods, watching out of the corner as Beau stumbles to her feet, vomiting as Yasha hovers, one massive hand holding the monk’s hair as the other rubs circles into her convulsing back. Yasha’s eyes are squeezed tightly, her lips pursed as she looks away, trying not to vomit.

“For the fast way, yes. But we both know there is another way,” He says, keeping his voice as level as possible as he looks down at her. Her mouth is open as she stares at the rubble, wincing as another cluster of rocks break away. She nods, gripping her holy symbol.

“I guess they just know when you’re ready. Artagan taught me the other way a few weeks ago,” She says quietly, her eyes never leaving the rocks.

Caduceus nods in response, watching as Jester bites her lip to the point of drawing blood. He hesitates to say something, watching as she licks the blood away and continues with a forceful look his way.

“I’ve raised people before but it was always quick. I know how to do the other way but I don’t think I can do it here, at least like this. It isn't safe - this will be harder, Caduceus.” She says quietly.

“I know. But we can do it. I can stabilize the body,” He says, his voice gentle as Jester’s tail twitches at the word body.

“But we have to get to him first. And I don’t think any of us can do that right now - and, if I am correct, we are out of diamonds.” He continues softly. She nods silently beside him, her eyes unblinking as she watches the rocks fall. Silence stretches between them, the only sounds Beau’s retching and Veth’s soft keening. He feels fear tug at the seams of his peace, dimly registering Fjord by his side as his thoughts race.

“Can we get him back?” He asks, his smooth voice almost a whisper. Caduceus places a hand on his forearm and squeezes gently, and Fjord relaxes slightly beside him.

“We can, but we have to get to him first. This way, it is...more involved. We will have to return to Roshona, we cannot safely raise him here.” He says evenly, feeling Fjord tense beside him.

“We can get him out, Deucey. Just...not until tomorrow. We’re all tapped.” Fjord says, his voice ragged as he rubs at the bite Veth had left.

“Without...without Caleb we don’t have the dome.And the longer he is gone, the harder it will be for him to come back,” Jester says beside him.

Her voice brittle as she looks across at Fjord, luminous eyes hard, her smile closer to a grimace. Fjord sighs, rubbing his face in frustration. Caduceus looks to the rubble once more, weighing his options.

Well, it never hurts to ask.

“Jester, Fjord, if you will excuse me for a moment,” He limps forward, his hands slipping down his staff as he falls to his knees, reaching for his bag. He takes a deep breath, trying to anchor himself. He sets out the incense and strikes a flint, the sickly sweet smell drowning out the sounds of his friends.

In and out, in and out.

He presses his forehead to the ground, the aches of his body far away as he feels his energy spark and burn, warm breath centering him as he reaches for Her presence in this lightless, death ridden place. He feels their connection descend like a rush of water, warmth suffusing his body. He thinks of the Grove, of the Blight, of a crystal pressed into his brave sister's palm, and of the Wizard that helped him save Her Menagerie.

“Mother, I have served you and will serve you as long as I draw breath. He has also served you, for love of his family, of his people, of living things. We face an incredible cruelty, a cruelty that will Blight out this world if it can. We need him, Mother. The world will need him, I think. His work is not finished. Please help us retrieve him.”

His voice is a whisper as he finishes his prayer, waiting breathlessly as his forehead presses to the lifeless stone. An aching moment passes, and he sighs deeply, pressing himself up from the cavern floor. Her connection wavers, the warmth ebbing slightly. He rises from the floor with a sigh, opening his eyes once more.

He glances behind him to where Jester and Fjord watch. Each of them holds their holy symbol, and Caduceus thinks with a smile that maybe at least one of them will get through. He wraps his hands around his staff again, his muscles straining as he pushes himself up. Jester walks forward, bloody hands held aloft as she scans the rock pile.

“I can...I can be that direbadger again in the morning and we can...we can dig him out - “ She begins, her voice shaking as tears begin to fall at last, gripping her symbol as Fjord places a hand on her shoulder.

“That's a good idea Jester, let’s just...sit down for a moment and...talk,” He interrupts, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. The tiefling nods shakily, allowing Fjord to lead her to where the others are sitting in a rough circle.

Beau is cross legged as she stares blankly head, while Yasha stands nervously. Veth sits with her knees to her chest, face buried in her arms. Caduceus turns to the rubble once more, his chest aching as he feels a sudden breeze. Soft, but insistent, it cards through his hair soothingly- like a mother.

Her Voice is not words, but it is clear as he feels warmth flow through and around him once more, energy suddenly pulsing in the darkness as a summer breeze whips around him. He lifts his head, the smell of fresh water and lush, bruised grass filling his nostrils as the breeze begins to blow in earnest, becoming a fierce, howling tempest that tosses his loose hair around him.

“Caduceus!” He hears Fjord say, as he closes his eyes and smiles, hearing the others rush to him with a clatter of weapons and shaking steps. He feels Fjord place a hand on his arm, squeezing hard.

The arms of his mother around him as she awoke from the stone, the sound of shattering as he returned Yasha to freedom, the strength of Her approval as he pushed life back into Fjord. A smile, proud, felt yet unseen, a warm palm cupping his cheek. A Mother’s approval, a Mother’s strength.

A Mother’s love.

He opens his eyes as bright green light begins to crackle and pop in the roaring wind, suffusing the chamber with verdant daylight. He feels energy flow through him as light snakes across the ground. The light flows, water-like, into the rubble, suffusing it with a verdant green glow.

He looks to his companions, their eyes huge and jaws slack in their pale, blood streaked faces. In his mind he sees a vision - a mountain suspended in green energy, a half-crushed corpse, a shroud of vines, a flash of white hair, a tree in endless night - a bright glow of green magic from a window.

“We don’t have much time. It won’t be pretty, but we have to get him out. Be ready,” He says, gripping his staff as the glow travels up the mound, rocks beginning to vibrate, the sound of them shaking against each other eerie in the cavern.

His friends breathe heavily, and he looks quickly to Jester. Her face, like the others, is painted in green, and her bright, wide eyes are fixed on the spreading glow with awe, tears streaked down her cheeks.

Veth is at his shin, her breath ragged in her chest as she wipes her face, eyes locked in determination. Yasha meets his eyes and bites her lip, glancing at the half dead monk beside her. Beau stands, her shoulders hunched and jaw set tightly in as she gets ready to run. Fjord squeezes his arm again before dropping it, his mouth open as he watches the rocks begin to levitate with a thundering rumble, the top of the rubble rising slowly to the ceiling.

“When it clears, we run in. I’ll stabilize him, and then Jester - ” He says, the tiefling snapping her eyes to his.

“You pick him up and run. We get him out, and then - “ The sound overpowers him, as the rocks begin to rattle against each other before ascending, floating near the top of the chamber. He hears Jester shriek as a sliver of copper hair shows, thirty feet ahead, before the rest of the rocks lift and they sprint forward.

Caduceus has never been the fastest, especially with a broken ankle, but he feels Her push him forward, desperate to get to the body first. The body is face down - a blessing. He is intact, but badly mangled, but the crushing weight of the stones was not the killing blow - a stalactite, long and sharp, is wedged in his back, the glow absent. The stone is about three inches wide and four feet long. A book lays open beside him, fallen out of the severed holster, and a scatter of familiar amber stones lie strewn across the ground.

It must have caught him as he ran, he thinks, falling to his knees and lifting a hand to the wizards back, pressing it against the warm, ruined flesh. The roar of the rattling rocks is louder than the screams of his friends as they arrive, their strained grimaces illuminated in the humming green glow.

“Yasha, Fjord, get this out of him. Veth, grab his book, Beau, gather the stones. Jester, once it is out I will stabilize him, grab him and get out.” He yells, holding down the body.

Veth scrambles for the book, staying to look at Caleb with wild eyes as Beau nods, grabbing the amber stones and another trinket that Caduceus missed. Jester sinks to her knees, her face still as she prepares to reach forward. Yasha and Fjord grab the stalactite, pulling it loose with a sick squelch and a spray of blood.

Caduceus presses his hands against the body, bright green vines arching rapidly from his palms. They spread rapidly, covering the body, dying around and closing the wound. Jester looks at him, waiting, her face pinched with anxiety as she watches the vines enshroud the corpse. He waits as the vines crawl, feeling the last tendril curl tightly around Caleb’s face.

“Now, Jester,” He says, and she rolls and scoops up the bound body, standing in one smooth motion as she holds him to her chest.

“Run!” He screams, and they do, peeling out of the cavern once more, away from the bright pool of blood where the body had lain.

Jester holds the body close, her steps sure as they flee. As soon as Yasha crosses the lip of the cave, the roar begins to quiet, as the glow ebbs from the suspended rocks. Like rain, the rocks crash to the cavern floor once more, the cacophony growing as the light fades. Silence fills the cavern once more as the last of the glow leaves the rubble, darkness taking them.

Chapter Text

He sobs until his head aches, the uncontrolled sounds grating from his chest growing weaker and weaker as he grips at her, the rough, home spun cotton of her apron scratching against his fire-calloused fingers.

Her voice is low and sure in his ear, whispered assurances flowing into a soft song he has not heard since he was a child. She strokes his hair, his face, his shoulder, her touch warm over the thin material of his shirt. Her arm stays sure around him, pressing him to her and rocking them both softly in the dusty path.

Eventually he feels his breath return to him, his grasp on her weakening as exhaustion suffuses his body. He sags into her embrace, his head pounding as he works to get air to his screaming brain. The lullaby fades away. He feels her shift, gently pushing him away to look at his face, her grip sure on his upper arms. He sags forward, his palms open on his knees. He turns his head away, terrified to meet her eyes. Her hands move to cup his face, and he shudders at the press of her warm skin against his own.

“Bren,” She says, her measured voice sending a wave of sick shame down his spine. He shakes his head in her grasp, and she grips harder, trying to turn his face in her hands. He surrenders, allowing her to shift his face gently up to hers.

She is unchanged. Her hair, his hair, falls loosely about her shoulders, small braids pulling it away from her face. The sun catches it in shining waves, and it strikes him that his hair is almost as long as hers. Her eyes are bright and keen, the hazel green of the iris striking against her pale, freckle strewn skin. Her thin lips are parted as she drinks him in, her straight nose reddened from crying. Dimples pull against her high boned cheeks as she smiles widely, her hands shaking as she tightens her grip on his face.

His chest aches, and he reaches up to place his hands over hers, forcing himself to hold her gaze.

“Mutter,” He breathes, the word heavy in his mouth, a word he has not allowed himself for years.

She smiles wider, her grip sure as he holds her hands. The pain in his chest throbs, and he hears himself begin to babble like a child.

“Mutter, forgive me, I never wanted - I - I can’t - I killed you, I killed both of you, I -” He stammers, gripping furiously at her hands as his body shakes violently.

She shushes him, leaning forward to press her forehead to his. He goes still, her breath, her scent, her touch grounding him and silencing his screaming heart. He could never put into words the scent of his mother - stove smoke, black dirt, a touch of perfume that Vater saved for in secret. It flooded his senses now, and he breathed her in deeply.

“Hush now, none of that. You did. It is past.” She whispers, the words like warm water on his skin.

She presses a kiss to his brow, and he shivers as he remembers Molly, his warm hands gripping his face as a kiss anchored him back to reality. And then - Essek, young and cruel and terrified, sitting in front of him, his twilight skin cool under his lips.

He shudders, and she pulls her hands from his, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him tight to her. He feels her heart pounding against his, her slender frame snug against him.

But it is not her heart, because she is dead. As you are dead.

He hears a scream behind him, jerking from her arms to look. Only grass greets him, and he turns back to his mother’s concerned face.

“Did you hear that?” He asks, his voice hoarse.

She shakes her head, standing shakily and reaching down to pull him to his feet. He rises, almost a head above her. She smiles softly, twirling a lock of his hair around her finger before brushing it behind his ear, reaching for his hand. He allows her to take it, her thumb rubbing circles into the back of his hand.

“What did you hear?” She asks, her brow furrowing.

“...a scream.” He says quietly, scanning the horizon and finding only rolling, golden fields. She moves in front of him, her eyes thoughtful.

“Bren, what do you see right now?” She asks.

“I...I see you,” She rolls her eyes, squeezing his hand.

“And?”

“I see...I see the home I grew up in, behind me. I see grass, the tall gold grass that grew in our village. And...nothing else.” He fisnishes quietly.

Her eyes grow soft, something like relief showing on her face as she squeezes his hand.

“Good. Good. Come,” She says, tugging on his hand as she turns to the house.

He moves, stumbling behind her as he turns his head, a thundering crash sounding in the distance. They walk toward the home, and he shakes his head, the gears of his mind trying desperately to piece his mother's words to the sounds emanating from the placid hills. His head still feels addled, his mind stuffed with cotton. He is missing something. She stops in front of the door, looking back to him with a raised brow.

“What do you mean? What...what am I not seeing, what are those...those sounds?” He asks, looking to where the ginger cat is trotting towards him. His mother crouches, picking up the cat and handing it to him. Frumkin’s purrs reverberate against his chest as he holds her close, the cat rubbing her head against his chin. His mother reaches up to cup his cheek, her face soft as her thumb brushes the line of his jaw.

“You look so much like him now,” She murmurs, her lips turning up into a sad smile. She huffs a bit, looking at him for a moment.

“Vater will be home soon. Come, have some tea,” She says, patting his cheek as she turns to go inside. His chest clenches at the mention of his father, clutching Frumpkin, the cat making sharp biscuits against his chest . He does not move, calling after her.

“Mutter,” He says, watching as she pauses in the doorway, placing a palm on the worn frame. She turns, her sharp profile illuminated against the comforting half-dark of the home. She hesitates, her shoulders hunching in.

“You may not be here very much longer,” She says quietly, sighing as she looks at him once more, her hand gripping the wooden frame.

“You hear the living, Bren.” She murmurs, before breaking away and walking into the house.

Chapter Text

Fjord works to catch his breath as they all skid to a stop, turning to watch the last of the light leave the stones as they plummet. He blinks the spots out of his eyes before turning back to his family, a wound in his side screaming.

They are all barely standing, some gripping their sides like him as they hiss through their teeth. Jester stands straight, her arms steady as she holds Caleb tightly. She looks at the wizard wordlessly, her face stricken.

He looks to Caduceus, the firbolg meeting his eyes with a nod and a tight smile before falling to the ground, panting on his back in exhaustion. The rest of the party follows suit, save for Jester, who stands like a statue, her eyes glued to the slender green form limp in her arms.

“Jessie,” He says softly.

She flinches at the sound. She looks around to the others and sinks to the floor smoothly, cradling the body in her lap.

Caduceus heaves himself up, his wise eyes searching his face. Fjord shakes his head at him wordlessly, his mind reeling - it's going to take a long time to process what he just saw. He’s never seen Caduceus take charge, and while he is devoted to Melora he never imagined anything like…that. He reaches for his holy symbol, sending a quick prayer of thanks as he looks at the drained firbolg. Caduceus raises an eyebrow, smiling brokenly and gesturing at the group as if to say,

“Your turn,”

Fjord clears his throat, spitting out the blood that comes up. He fights a wave of nausea at the taste.

“Caduceus, you said we need to return to Roshona?” He asks.

Caduceus sighs, gesturing at the body.

“We could bring him back now, if we had the diamonds. But, it isn’t safe here. It will be more difficult this time - the spell is more intricate, and the soul will be further away. And he will need time to recover, more time than a Revivify. The spell we need will ask something from us all. We need to be safe. The vines buy us ten days before nature takes his body. But -” He says,

“Essek,” Beau interrupts, her head snapping up from where it was trained on the ground.
Fjord watches as she glances at the body and forces her cold blue eyes back to Fjord, face drawn in furious greif. He had never noticed how similar her eyes were to Caleb’s - he wonders if she ever came to the same realization.

“Let him be good for something besides starting wars. Essek will take us back. We’ll get the fucking diamonds. And we get our wizard back.” She says, tears falling freely down her dirt smeared face as her vice like hands grip her knees.

Fjord remembers the scar on his chest, the burns from Caduceus’s death, Veth's limp form, Molly’s fresh grave - this is not the first time she has watched one of them die.

“And if he can’t, then I will kill him, and none of you get to stop me. ” Beau growls as she raises a shaking middle finger.

Fjord gives her a pained smile, looking back to Jester. Her back is straight, Caleb’s head cradled against her torso as she stares blankly at the body.

“Jester?” He asks.

“Ja?” She replies, her strong blue hands tight against the intricate vines.

“Can you send messages right now?” He asks softly.

She gives a slight shake of her head. He feels his heart sink - a night of rest in this place will be incredibly difficult. Without the dome, they are easy pickings. They need to make it back to town and sleep before they can reach the Shadowhand, or they risk...

“I can only send one.” She says, her eyes closed.

He sighs in relief.

Thank you, Melora.

“Okay so - we’re half a day from the Gates. We take a short rest, heal up a bit, and get Essek to take us to Roshona to heal Caleb.” He says, working to keep his voice even.

The rest of them murmur their agreement, and Fjord looks back to Jester, desperately looking past the body to her eyes.

“Jessie?” He asks delicately, raising his hands to count her words.

She lifts her eyes, and it's like a punch in the chest. The shutters are drawn over her violet irises, red rimmed and exhausted. The tears are gone as she takes a deep breath, pursing her lips and closing her eyes. The girl who painted rainbows on the Platinum Dragon and flirted with him over terrible smut is suddenly very far away as he watches Jester concentrate.

“Caleb is dead. We can raise him. Meet at Umbra Gate in six hours. Bring us to Roshona. Send a 500 gold diamond to Xorhouse.” She says, her voice strong and even, opening her eyes to look back down at Caleb.

It is quiet for a few moments as she listens, a sigh of relief escaping her as her head lolls forward.

“He’ll do it.” She breathes.

The release is palpable as they look to each other, the adrenaline beginning to ebb. Fjord leans forward and places his hands on his knees, looking from face to face.

Maybe, just maybe, Caleb can be breathing tomorrow. They have to get out of here first.

“Okay, who is the least fucked up?” He asks.

Yasha raises her hand tentatively, and he doesn’t miss the tiny, exasperated smile it gets from Beau.

“Okay, one hour - everyone in a pile. Yasha and I will keep watch. Cad, keep that crystal going okay?” He says, and the group shuffles until they are all arranged securely.

Yasha puts her back to Jester’s, the Magician’s Judge ready in her lap. Veth and Beau press in close beside Jester as Caduceus curls in front of the body, Fjord copying Yasha with D’wethvar in his lap as he sits in front of Jester.

He shivers at each distant drop of water, glancing behind to Yasha a few times. She meets his gaze, fear playing over her strange eyes as they listen in the dark. A tense hour passes at last and they rise shakily to make their way back to the gates. As Jester stands once more Fjord glances to Yasha, jutting his head toward her. Yasha raises her eyebrows and frowns, sheathing her sword and walking to Jester. Jester looks up to the barbarian, face almost confused.

“Jester, would you like me to...carry him for a while?” She asks, her soft voice echoing faintly in the chamber.

Jester shakes her head, giving a tight smile as she grips the body closer.

“I’m good. I’m really strong you know. He...he always said I was. And he's so skinny, it…”

Jester huffs in frustration, shaking her head harder, the smile brittle on her freckled face.

“I’ve got him. Thank you Yasha.” She says quietly, looking up at the other woman with distress concealed thinly under a tight smile.

Yasha only nods politely, walking towards the front of the line. Fjord follows suit, placing Jester in the middle with Veth and Caduceus following with Beau, goggles on tight.

Relying on Darkvision, they crawl through the darkness. The journey feels agonizingly slow to Fjord. They move stealthily, gravely careful to avoid the traps that used up their diamonds on the way in. Melora’s blessing seems to remain, and they emerge unscathed. The only interruption are some dog sized spiders, quickly dispatched by Fjord and Yasha.

When the gates come into view his shoulders sag inward. Before them in the center of the gates stands Essek, flanked by six Aurora Watch on each side. He can see the now-familiar markings of an almost finished transportation circle behind him as the Shadowhand strides forward, his usually composed expression pinched with worry, the Watch following behind. His breath comes in huffs as he stops before Fjord, his feet planted on the ground. Fjord inclines his head in greeting, moving to the side as the Nein come to a stop behind him.

“Friends, I heard you, I - ” Essek says, his voice as rough as it had been in the belly of the Ball Eater.

His eyes move from face to face before falling to Jester’s, his words stopping as he sees the shrouded body cradled in her arms. She looks up at Essek, her brows furrowed as she gives him a trembling smile, exhaustion in her dry, red eyes. Silence stretches for a moment, before Beau places a hand on Jester's shoulder, her eyes boring into Essek.

“Get us home, Essek.” She says curtly, her hand tight on Jester’s shoulder.

Essek stares at the body before looking back up to Jester. She sighs harshly, cradling the body tightly to her chest as she and Essek speak silently, their eyes never leaving each others as the hush stretches.

“Thank you, Essek. Beau is right, lets go.” Jester says after a long moment, her feet plodding forward.

The Shadowhand exhales a held breath, his mouth closing as he turns to follow her, the Watch trailing silently. Fjord looks to Caduceus, the firbolgs face drawn with pain as he leans on his staff, limping forward with the rest of the Nein. He feels Veth patting at his leg and glances down. The halfling woman screws up her mouth for a few seconds before blurting out,

“Sorry for biting you. That was fucked up...sorry.” She says quickly, her shrill voice raw from crying.

Fjord feels a laugh bark out of his chest, and he pats her on the shoulder.

“It's fine, Veth. Come on, let’s get home,” He says, giving her a smile as she nods nervously, making their way forward on shaking legs.

They reach the circle, and Essek waits, once more looking at all of them before lowering himself to the ground, the last few scritches of chalk alighting the circle. Fjord sneaks a last glance at Jester - her shoulders are beginning to shake under Beau’s grip.

“Time to go,” Essek says, and Jester goes first, the rest of the Nein following out of the pressing, hungry darkness.

Chapter Text

He crossed the threshold, looking in wonder at the small home.

Everything was as he remembered - the small kitchen with the pots and pans hanging on the wall, a rack in the corner tied full of dried herbs, the heavy iron stove with the worn wooden handle, wrapped tightly with cloth to avoid splinters. The stove was burning, a stew on top bubbling merrily on the back right burner, the one with the rusted chip out of the corner. His bare feet pressed into the wide planked, worn floor, squeaking gently as he wandered into the kitchen, his fingers trailing along the smooth, sanded wood counter tops.

I destroyed this, he thinks dully.

The table Vater built, the teapot that Oma passed down. Lives, burned away in more ways than one. It was about more than himself severing his parents lives, he realizes.

They wanted me to destroy what I was before, where I came from. Every scrap of it.

His mother slipped out the back door, and he heard the dim creaking of a well pump. He padded to the table, pulling free a chair and falling into it slowly, gripping Frumpkin to his chest. The cat rearranged herself primly, looking up at him with squinting, golden eyes. He buried his hands in her warm, dust filled fur, smiling in awe at his childhood cat, long dead from a snakebite when he was twelve. He was looking for flowers for Mutter when he found her, stiff and cold at the edge of a field. It was the first time he had seen a dead thing that he loved, and he remembers the hot tears that flowed as he ran back to the house, screaming for his Mutter.

At least I didn’t kill you, he thinks with dark humor, another flare of shame flooding his body as his fingers shook against the cats ginger fluff.

His mother returned from the yard, a cistern filled with water by her side. She patted his shoulder as she walked by, setting the full cistern down on the counter, reaching for the heavy metal teapot and carefully filling it. She sat the teapot on the iron stove to boil before reaching for the tea, sorting the leaves into a small bowl. The lid returned to the clay container with a light clink as she reached for the chipped teacups, gathering them onto a small hewn tray. She returned, sitting beside him on the opposite corner, her eyes crinkling at the cat curled in his lap. From the open window he heard another, more distant scream, and he shuddered, his fingers flowing through the soothing soft fur.

“The living?” He asks quietly.

His mother leans her head on her elbow, her eyes soft as she looks at him. She purses her thin lips for a moment in thought. A breeze runs through the open window by the table, catching her gleaming hair.The angular shadow of her cheek is like a spear arching down her face in the half-light, and she works her mouth, the dimples pulling as she does.

“I was a simple farm girl. I did not seek the great truths and mysteries of the world - we did not even worship. It was enough to have my home, my family. The gods and their plans did not concern me. And yet, my son...” She trails off, her expression distant.

“It is hard to explain. Your mind, does it feel clouded?” She asks, tapping her fingers against the smooth wood of the table in a slow rhythm.

He nodded sharply, carding through the cat's fur.

“It’s like I am underwater. I can’t - I can’t recall things as quickly. I don’t know the time. I feel like I’m in a dream.” He murmurs.

Her hands still, the steady rhythm stalling as she nods in sympathy, her eyes distant.

“It is like that, in the beginning. You cannot see properly, cannot think. You are exhausted - some people sleep for days. And...and you hear things. Closer at first, but...more distant as time goes on. Sometimes you can...you can focus, and listen if you try very hard. Sometimes people will bring you news. But, eventually, the sound fades, and your mind clears, and your eyes open to your new world.” She says, her voice soft as she reaches across the table, brushing through his hair.

His heart pounds, trying to sort her words into boxes and reason. Her words are like water running from his hands, leaving a sheen on his skin as they fall away.

“I do not understand.” He says simply, almost jumping as her laugh breaks out, high and pure.

She gives his cheek a little pat, sliding her chair back and taking the kettle off the stove. She takes the tray to the table before adding the leaves to the pot, a small bit of cheesecloth wrapped around the spout with a leather tie. She picked up the kettle and a trivet, setting it between them, steam slowly escaping beneath the hinged spout.

“I don’t think I have ever heard you say that sentence,” She says with a smile, setting the cups out, one in the empty seat beside her.

“Five minutes,” She says with a wink, and he feels his clock begin to run again, though he still cannot identify the time.

“That was a fun game we would play. You never made a mistake! I could tell you five minutes, seventeen hours or ten days - you would always remember, even as a little boy. So smart.” She says proudly.

He sits across from her dumbfounded - he murdered her, in searing, painful, agonizing death. His mother, his father - her husband. Their screams have consumed his nightmares, their murder dictating his life for over a decade. He has killed and stolen and fought countless monsters in pursuit of his goal - however half-abandoned it had become. He wanted to unravel the very threads of reality to undo his cruelty, his ambition only tempered by the life changing, ridiculous love from his new family and the sprawl of his strange new life.

And here she sits, complimenting him like his hands are not dripping with her blood, making him a cup of fucking tea.

“Mutter, I -” He begins, interrupted by the crunch of boots up gravel.

The sound sparks a wave of memories - Vater was always the last to come in from the fields, Caleb and Mutter heading in earlier to make dinner. His heavy steps would trudge up the back path, the rhythm culminating in four stomps to shake the mud before he would peel off his boots, walking inside sitting at the table and leaning back, reaching for his pipe in the window and puffing as Caleb set the table with freshly washed hands, Mutter following behind him with dinner. He feels his spine straighten as his mother jumps up, running to the door. Frumpkin jumps from his lap, trotting forward to the open back door to the familiar thump thump thump thump.

His breath escapes his chest as he sees a wide hand grip the outside of the door, bracing on one leg to take off his boots. Mutter reaches up, placing her hand on his and turning her body to block his father’s sight. Caleb hears her murmur,

“Leofric...he’s here.”

Caleb jumps to his feet as his father strides forward, his powerful frame gently pushing his mother aside as he moves to stand in front of Caleb, his square jaw tight, arms slack at his side.

He is still taller than me, he realizes.

The two men regard each other as Mutter watches with restless eyes, silently making her way to stand beside her husband, a pale hand on his ruddy, muscle-bound arm. Caleb’s own eyes stare back at him, the piercing blue sending a shudder down his ramrod back. His red-brown hair is longer than he remembers, tied back in a tail like he kept his own. A dark, cropped beard accents the sharp line of his jaw, the loose laces at the top of his shirt displaying the taught sinews of his thick neck.

The silence strains, Mutter gripping her husband's arm tightly. Caleb fights to breathe, summoning his courage.

“Vater, I - “

He is cut off as the man marches forward faster than he can react, his body lifted off the creaking wood floor in a crushing embrace. He feels the air squeeze out of him, a wheeze escaping before his father sets him down, gripping his shoulders and stepping back to look at him with a stunned expression before pulling him close once more, his bearded chin resting on the top of his head. He feels the strong pulse of his father’s heart beside his, and he wraps his arm around him tightly. His senses are flooded - the smell of sweat and sawdust, the feel of his strong arms holding him tightly, the scratch of his father’s beard against his scalp. His father pushes him away once more, his massive hands holding his shoulders as Caleb allows his arms to swing weakly at his side.

“You should not be here,” His father whispers, his deep voice rumbling in the small room.

His mother places a hand on Vater’s arm once more, his intense gaze on his son unwavering.

“It is alright, Leofric,” She says, patting at his massive bicep.

Her husband looks to her with shock, his jaw slack before he begins to argue, Una silencing him with a finger to his lips.

“He will not be here for long,” She says with a small smile, tapping at Leofric’s mouth playfully before meeting her son’s eyes with a strange mix of pride and grief.

“Our son has very powerful friends now,” She says, pulling out her chair and sitting, motioning for them to do the same before resting her pointed chin on her palm once more.

“Don’t you, Caleb?” She finishes with a smile, her verdant eyes sparkling.

He goes still at her words, his father looking back at him with a conflicted grimace before dropping his shoulders with a squeeze, a hand grazing his wife’s shoulder before falling into the empty chair, reaching to grip his wife’s free hand tightly in her lap.

She chuckles at Caleb’s shocked face, reaching to tug him down. He obeys, crumpling onto the chair. Una pats the table and he offers his hand. She takes it, running her thumb along the scars that run down his arm with a pensive expression on her face. Her touch is overwhelming and anchoring all at once, and his heart almost hurts from the pounding in his chest.

He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to meet his father’s eyes - his eyes - the similarity unnerving. Leofric watches him carefully, his eyebrows furrowed.

He returns to his mother, her mouth in a tight, flat line as she slowly pushes his sleeve up and turns his arm, ghosting her fingers over the litany of coin to dagger-length cuts that arch across his flesh.

He had not yet considered that the Nein would try to bring him back - he doesn’t even know if they can. But he remembers the searing pain of losing Caduceus, of Nott, of Fjord. The awe-inducing divine power that Jester and Caduceus displayed each time, life pushed back into limp bodies, astral hands guiding their own.

His self-hatred is no longer strong enough to think that they will not try - for better or worse, they are family now. He feels a new pain grip him as he thinks of Veth, of Beau, of all of them, their faces twisted with grief over him.

And, without him, there is no dome. No transportation circle. They are still in danger, and without their wizard.

His blood goes cold as realization washes over him, his vision going white.

The screams are theirs.

He feels whiplash as his mind turns to the living, and the paralyzing image of Jester's face streaked with tears over his crumpled, still form. The horror is too much, and he feels his mother squeeze his arm as she watches his face contorted in agony.

He focuses on the touch of his mother, summoning his courage. He has dreamed this, so many times. Seeing them again, hearing their voices. The ability to explain, to tell them why, to at least let them know that he was manipulated. To scream selfishly for forgiveness before being dragged to the hells where he belongs, his own cold eyes in his father’s face as he is dragged away. He has imagined many things. And yet.

When he imagined his very likely death, he never imagined tea with his murdered parents.

He rubs his eyes, clearing his throat. He feels a familiar alarm go off in his mind and looks to his mother, giving her a wry smile.

“Zeit,” He says, and she smiles, her hand remaining on his arm as she breaks from Leofric’s grip to pour the kettle.

They settle with their tea, Caleb feeling Frumpkin return to his lap. He takes a sip of the steaming tea - black, slightly bitter, strong, cut with a bit of mellow chamomile for taste and jitters. The fuel of many harvest days and long nights buried in books, an old Zemnian recipe. He takes a long sip, flinching as another muffled scream sounds in the distance - the shrill, reedy voice unmistakeable. He swallows, running his hand through Frumpkin’s fur, his knuckles white as he grips his mug.

“How...how much do you know?” He asks, his voice sounding far away.

His parents look at each other, Leofric rubbing his jaw before gesturing his hand in the air towards Una. She shakes her head at her husband in soft exasperation, her tight lips parting slightly before she speaks.

“We know about the asylum. That you escaped - you disappeared for a while after that. Then...we heard about the war. We feared you were lost again, your mind gone. We kept our ears open, and asked about you, to whoever we could. Then, we heard of a group. There was a town, Alfield, that was attacked. Many perished, but they saw things. And red haired wizards with bright blue eyes and Zemnian accents are very rare.” She pauses, her finger tracing one of the longer, slightly raised marks.

“We were pretty sure then, that it was you. We spoke to a few more people, and you matched the description, but we never heard your name. We had hope maybe you were not in a ditch somewhere - that you were doing great things. We let ourselves hope. It was quiet for a long time - and then you went to Rexxentrum. We spoke with someone that saw your group after the battle, before they passed from their wounds. We got the name you were using at last - Caleb Widogast. But since then it has been quiet. We laughed when we heard about your group - did you come up with the Mighty Nein?” She asks, a tremulous smile on her lips.

His head spins with questions - who did they ask? He has seen no one else, is this a separate plane? They can only ask the dead - have they spoken to the people they have killed? To the people I have killed? How did they find my name - it must be someone that we knew, who was it -

He only nods, shrugging his shoulders.

“It was a joke,” He mumbles, jumping at the bark of laughter that comes from his father.

Leofric’s eyes are scrunched in laughter, patting Una’s hand as he chuckles, waving at his wife to continue.

Una shakes her head, winking at Caleb.

“It is a good joke,” His father huffs, his eyes twinkling as he gives Caleb a gentle smile.

He returns it as best he can, steeling himself.

“You have heard correctly, that was us in Alfeild and Rexxentrum. I...I would like to fill in the gaps and…” He sighs, feeling his mother grip his hand tightly.

“I can never make amends for what I did to you,” He begins, holding up a hand as his mother opens her mouth to argue.

She shakes her shoulder, huffing in frustration.

“But I can explain to you both why. I...I don’t know how much time I have here. We’ve lost people before but Jester,” His voice breaks on her name, her face after Fjord’s death, Beauregard’s scream in the pounding rain.

He does not miss the glance that Una gives her husband before returning her attention to her son.

“My friend, she’s done it three times. There is another in our group, a follower of Melora, who has done it. If they have the spell components, and get to someone within a minute, they can revive people from death with nothing more than a good diamond and the will of they and their god. I don’t think that is the case this time. We were in a cave, we were running. It began to collapse and I think…” He trails off, his mother’s grip on his wrist tight.

“It was fast. But I don’t...I don’t know. They may not be able to retrieve me. They have spoken of another spell, more powerful to raise the dead from longer periods. I should have learned more.”

He pauses, trying to shake the image of his friends over his body once more. His parents - his parents - gaze at him patiently, impossibly.

I don’t know where to begin.

He holds up his arm, the loose sleeve sliding down. He lifts the other from Frumkin, rotating his arms in the dim light. He lowers his arms to the table, palms open. His parents look at the scars with pained faces, his father’s grip tightening in Una’s.

“I did not do this to myself. You didn't see - I didn’t let you. You were proud of my uniform, the coat, the pins. I felt like I was wearing a costume, sometimes. A farm boy in fancy clothing. But I ignored it. I was adorned - honored. It was a uniform for murder. But you didn’t know that. You didn’t know about these. And in the end, you didn’t even know why you died. You left that part out, you know.” He says slowly, the words tumbling.

He remembers; another reeking tavern, a challenge from an ally - desperate for books, desperate for relief, Veth’s face in shock and the tight set of Beauregard’s shoulders, back pressed into the wall. His own words echo dully in his mind.

“I am going to tell you the story of how I murdered my mother and father.”

Chapter Text

Beau felt her feet hit ground once once more, stumbling a bit as she caught her balance.

The high ceiling and massive tapestries of the entryway of the Xhorhouse greeted her, and she groaned in relief. Part of her was worried about Essek taking them back to the palace first, and the thought of having to drag them all back home, dead Caleb included, made her empty stomach twist again. 

The Nein righted themselves, Yasha’s massive hands holding Jester. The roar of the magic stopped, the bright white symbols on the intricately tiled floor fading slowly as they all caught their breath. 

Beau turned quickly behind her to Jester - Caleb was still held tightly against her, but Beau could see where her arms were shivering with exertion. 

Goddamnit, Jester.

She thinks affectionately as she grabs her shoulders from Yasha, the barbarian wrapping an arm around Jester’s waist as they turn, ignoring Essek piping up with a thin, “Wait, wait -”

They walk to Caleb’s room, Jester depositing the body on the bed gently, before leaning over to press her hands to her knees. Beau rubbed her back, looking over at Yasha. Her eyes were filled with concern, a large pale hand on Jester’s trembling shoulder. Beau jerked her head over to Jester before looking back to the door, a silent communication of - take care of her, I have to get back out there.  

Yasha gives her a nod and a tight smile, reaching over to help Jester sit down at the foot of the bed. Beau glances back to Jester, wiping her mouth with one of her scarves. The taste of bile is still fresh on her tongue. 

“I gotta go Jes - I’ll be back soon.” She says quickly, hearing Jester ask why behind her, voice weak.

She shuts the door to the library a little harder than necessary as she enters the entry hall once more. She takes a swig from Veth’s flask, the whiskey chasing away the sickness from her mouth and flowing into her adrenaline drained veins. 

Essek and Fjord stand close. Esseks head is inclined, his smooth brow pinched with anxiety as Fjord rubs at his face, looking up at Beau as she slams into the room. Caduceus and Veth stand to the side, looking back at the pair before walking toward the bedroom, Caduceus giving her a pat on the shoulder as he limps into the library. 

Essek looks at her with trepidation, attempting to cover his emotions. 

Doing a shit job there, Shadowhand, she thinks bitterly.  

She reaches for peace, the roar of the Nicodrani coast harder to summon. She bites her cheek until the pain is all she can feel, squeezing her eyes tight and slacking her face. She squares her shoulders, summoning the calm Expositor from the furious young woman inside.

She bumps hips with Fjord, crossing her arms over her chest and wincing at her loose shoulder. Essek looks at her blankly before reaching into a bag on his side and pulling out a handful of vials. The dark crimson fluid is bright against his purple skin - she recognizes them as Major Healing potions. 

“I had these and I...I grabbed them as soon as Jester messaged me. Please, take them.” He says quickly. 

She does, not missing the way he draws his hand back quickly. Smart of him. She hands them to Fjord, keeping one in her other hand. 

“Take these to the others real quick, will you?” She says to Fjord.

She rips out the cork with her teeth as she wraps her mouth around the bottle and chugs it before shaking her head and tossing the bottle to shatter against the tiled floor with a satisfying crunch. Fjord rolls his eyes, taking them to the rest of the Nein as she levels a glare at Essek. The Shadowhand holds her eyes for a moment before looking to the ground.

“You should have taken the aid - “ He says quietly.

Beau feels the fire spark in her chest, the potion’s ice and the whiskey’s fire numbing her pain as she spits the blood from her cheek, smearing the marble. She rushes forward to grab his stupid fucking mantle, the drow rising from his feet. Her muscles strain as she slams him to the wall with her good arm, teeth bared.

“You should shut the fuck up -” She snarls, dropping him and gripping her hands in tight fists as he stumbles, Fjord running in and placing himself between them.

“Beau what the fuck?” He says, his back to Essek as she grinds her teeth, reaching harder for the peaceful crush of the ocean, the deep blue that echoed in Caleb’s piercing eyes. 

Caleb. 

Her head falls forward, and she hisses at the grind as the dislocated shoulder moves. She looks up to Fjord, his bright yellow eyes pleading as he reaches out a hand to her, his skin warm on the side of her neck. She leans into the contact, grimacing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry I - will you just get my shoulder real quick?” She pants, fresh adrenaline thrumming through her. 

He squeezes her neck gently before raising his hands, one on each shoulder. This isn’t the first time they’ve done this. 

“One, two, three -” He counts quickly, and she grunts hard as a sickening crunch echoes against the walls, moving her shoulder experimentally and giving Fjord a quick nod of thanks as the joint moves easily once more. 

Fjord moves to her side, a hand on her shoulder, and she feels a rush of memory. 

Caleb, his skin rough with ash as he gripped her shoulder in support, her father’s home ahead of her on the hill. His eyes bright and calm against her own, assuring her of his support, no matter how much of an asshole she was. After Isharni, his eyes full of pain as they fought to hold hers, the words simple and pleading - “Stay. Don’t go.”

My brother. My  big brother is dead.

A tense moment stretches, Essek looking to Fjord before Beau speaks. 

“We can fight later, when Caleb isn’t fucking dead. What do you need?” She asks the drow, feeling some sick satisfaction at the shaken look on his face as she rolls her powerful shoulders. 

“The Bright Queen requires a meeting. She understands the circumstances, but she needs information, information that could be time sensitive.” He responds, his voice tight as he looks at the floor, glancing at the shattered glass and the glob of spewed blood.

She feels her hackles rise once more, the familiar anger rising hot and fast. 

The circumstance is that Caleb is dead in the other room. Thats the fucking ‘circumstance’.

Fjord squeezes her shoulder a little too hard, his sharp nails digging into the skin. 

“We understand. We can’t be gone for long,” He says, leveling a quick look at Beau, a look she’s seen from him, and others, many times.

“Calm the fuck down, Beauregard.” 

He doesn’t say it aloud, and she wants to thank him for that, for giving her at least the illusion of control as she feels her bones shaking in her flesh.

She takes a few deep breaths, regulating her heart rate and working to slacken her face once more. She knew that she couldn’t face Leylas if she didn’t focus - even as she tried to decide if she could get away with punching Essek in his perfect nose. 

She raises her shoulder under Fjords grip, giving him a brittle smile. He returns it, and she feels a rush of gratitude for his steady presence. Her Captain.

“Let’s get this done. I need to be with my family,” She says, shrugging away her shame. 

These people love me, and I love them, and I’m not afraid of it anymore.

She thinks, walking away and holding open the heavy door, giving it a quick slam with her fist, the smack of it grounding her. 

Fjord and Essek follow, the drow taking the lead. She scoffs as he begins to float once more, giving a few feet of space as they head towards the palace. Minutes pass in silence before Fjord leans in close, his voice low.

“I know you’re angry, I am too, but now is not the time.” 

She gives a tight nod, her anger dulling as the adrenaline of the day starts to wane.

“I know. I didn’t mean to snap, I just -  I just did.” She says quietly, her eyes on the drow’s back. Fjord claps a hand to her shoulder, huffing beside her.

“I understand. I would love to do the same, but it won’t accomplish anything,” He responds, his hand tight on her shoulder. 

“Let's just get through this.” She says quickly.

She reaches out, punching him in the arm - a little too hard, she realizes, as he jumps in surprise, a yelp escaping him in the quiet neighborhood. She smirks, wondering what time it is as they make their way. 

Caleb would know. 

The rest of the journey passes in silence, Essek blessedly quiet. He leads them to the waiting room, speaking hushed Undercommon to a plumed guard before leading them through the opened door. 

The Queen stands alone in the center, her focus shifting from the Beacon in its cradle to the three of them. The door closes heavily behind them, Leylas shifting her gaze to their party. Essek leads them forward, inclining his head to the Queen before stepping to the side. 

Beau looks to Leylas, her azure eyes as beautiful and unsettling as ever. She is more casual than she has ever seen her, a white robe tied at her waist, silver thread glinting faint embroidery. Beau wonders if the lack of armour is meant to show trust or a result of the ended war - or perhaps, simply a woman who was just woken by bad news. 

Her tri-horned crown glints in the light as she looks from face to face, softening as she takes in the blood and dirt that still covers Beau and Fjord. Beau hears a small shift of movement and looks behind the throne to where the General watches, her powerful arms bare and crossed in light leather armour with a sword at her side. 

“Greetings. I will not keep you - I have endured your fate before,” She says softly, a hand gripping her staff tightly as she looks into Beau’s face. 

Her gaze is consuming - she wonders again how many lives she has lived, how many people she’s lost. 

How many came back? Does the Luxon even allow that kind of magic? How would that work with a Consecrated soul? There is still so much we don’t know. 

“Tell me what happened.” She says simply, looking back to Fjord.

Beau cocks her head to the side, watching the Queen as Fjord clears his throat. Her eyes are tight, jaw clenched under the high collar of her robe. 

She’s...sad. She’s upset. Holy shit.  

She thinks, remembering when they first met the Queen - when Caleb saved their lives. 

She had been so sure that they were absolutely fucked, feeling the irons clap on her wrists. Her mind went blank, cursing herself as her diplomatic training failed her, watching the Queen’s face go stony. She had talked her way out from under the boot of the Pirate King, but her words had been useless. 

And Caleb, brilliant, exausting Caleb, saved their fucking skin. How must that have looked to Leylas? This human, a ragged Wizard who had hurt her own, confessed to be part of the powers she fought against, holding aloft the key to their entire way of life. And that same Wizard, returning yet another Beacon to her, ending the war. 

Shit. He’s her fucking favorite, She realizes, jaw slack as Fjord begins to speak.

“We went back into the Mines, and made a days progress. We were ambushed by new creatures - demons that we think were awoken after Oban woke the Hand. We lost one in the battle, bringing them back quickly, which lowered our diamonds, and our spells. We almost had the upper hand, and then a blast started a chain reaction - a cave in. We ran, but Caleb was stabbed by a falling rock and crushed beneath the rubble.” He says, his voice almost monotone as he finishes. 

Beau watches the Queen - her face is alert, and she watches a flash of grief in her eyes as Fjord describes Caleb’s fall.

Shit. He’s the DEAD favorite.

Beau places a hand on Fjord’s torn armor, taking over. Her voice is rough from screaming, and she twinges at the ache in her muscles from violently vomiting before as she speaks. 

“We were incredibly fortunate to be aided by the Wildmother - we witnessed a miracle.” She says, feeling the Queen’s gaze return to her. 

She keeps it, willing her spine to steel under her intense gaze. 

“She lifted the rubble, allowing us to retrieve the body. Jester sent a message to Essek at that time, and we took a short rest to prepare. We were fortunate to avoid any other encounters on our way out. We were met at the gate and transported to our home by the Shadowhand - and we made our way here. The rest of our party are home with him as we speak.” 

The Queen is quiet, her eyes searching Beau’s face.

“Do you intend to bring him back to life?” She asks, the question hanging in the air. 

Beau nods, swallowing under the intensity of the Queen’s gaze. 

“We do. Is that an issue?” She asks, feeling Fjord tense beside her. 

The Queen lowers her eyes, snapping her fingers. An unseen Palace Guard emerges from behind the throne, a plain hinged box in their hands. 

The Queen takes it and rises from her throne to hand the box to Fjord, who takes it with curious eyes. She sighs, and Beau hears the rustle of armour as the General steps forward. The Queen looks back, and Beau recognizes the smile that she gives the General - one of assurance. The Queen returns her attention to them, gesturing to the box with her free hand.

“The diamond you require, as well as more healing potions.” She explains. 

Beau’s jaw almost drops open before she regains control, responding automatically. 

“Thank you, your Majesty. It is deeply appreciated.” 

Leylas simply smiles, her eyes wise and distant as she places both hands upon her staff. 

“I have lived many lives. I am not one to judge. Send word once the ritual is complete, and if he returns, I would like to speak with him when he is well. I wish that you had taken our aid - but that will be better discussed at another time.” She says, turning back to sit gracefully on the throne, the General behind her, a soft smile on the warrior's face as she places a hand on the back of the throne. 

Beau hears the door open behind them, and as she looks back Essek is waiting beside the door. She looks to Fjord, his face composed as he glances at Beau. She just shrugs, whispering, “I got nothin’ Captain. She’s fuckin’ right.”

He scoffs at her, bowing his head in deference to the Queen. 

“We cannot thank you enough, your Majesty, for your continued kindness and support,” He says, his smooth voice echoing slightly in the mostly empty throne room. 

The Queen merely smiles, leaning her chin on her elbow.

“Anything for the Heroes of the Dynasty. I hope to see him again - we owe him, all of you, deeply.” She says, gestring for the door. 

Beau looks at her with shock as Fjord reaches and grabs her arm, tugging gently. 

Beau allows herself to be grabbed, stumbling a bit as they make their way to the exit. They walk through, the door closing with a heavy thwump behind them. As soon as the door closes, she sags in relief, dragging her hands down her face.

“Holy shit , Fjord,” She says into her knees, stretching her back.

 She presses her hands on her knees, looking over to Fjord, his face blank as he stares at the box. 

“Caleb is totally the favorite,” She says breathlessly. 

Fjord just shakes his head, tucking the box under his arm and reaching out to bring her tug her up. 

“Of course he is. And we got him killed ,” He says, striding forward and ignoring Essek starting to float behind them. 

She wonders how long he’ll follow - they know the way home by now and certainly don’t need the security. 

“Don’t put that on yourself,” She says, and Fjord just gives her a sidelong glance. 

“I didn’t put it on myself. I put it on us - on all of us.” He says, his eyes turning hard as he looks away, walking faster.

She shrugs her shoulders, ceding his point. 

“I can’t argue with you there,” She murmurs, hustling at the new pace. 

They make their way back in silence, Essek following. She tries to ignore it - his floating is silent, and she can almost pretend he isn’t there. They’re five minutes from home before he clears his throat, causing a flare of irritation. 

“She went easy on you,” He say, his tone measured. 

Aloof, even.

Fjord takes a deep breath, walking faster. Beau matches his pace, turning back to glare at the drow. His feet are elevated, coat barely trailing the ground. His face is downcast, and she can’t see his expression. 

“You aren’t in a position to complain about going easy on someone, Shadowhand ,” She spits into the dark, spinning back on her heel. 

The Xhorhaus comes into sight, and Beau feels relief flood her as they arrive at the front door. Caduceus waits for them in a chair off to the side, a tired smile on his face.

“How did it go?” He asks, cup of tea in hand, looking from face to face. 

Fjord holds up the box as Beau places her hands on her hips.

“Good. Too good, maybe. Caleb is defeinety her favorite,” She says with an eye roll, smiling as Caduceus’s laughter peals in the night. 

“We have the diamond, and some healing potions. I haven’t opened it actually. But I trust her,” Fjord says with a shrug. 

Caduceus just smiles, squinting in the dark towards Essek, waiting behind them. 

“Essek?” 

Beau watches as the drow appears, his feet touching the ground once more as he emerges into the thin light of the open entry hall. His face is open - hopeful, she realizes. She looks away, shame and fury boiling in her at the open greif in the young drow’s face. She remembers the intensity of Caleb’s words, the tender kiss he pressed to his brow. A reflection of himself, young, ambitious and so, so cruel. 

“You can come back - we’ll send a message.” Caduceus says kindly, rising from his seat.

Essek’s shoulders slump in relief, and Beau rolls her eyes, walking into the open door, Fjord close on her heels. Caduceus holds the door for a moment - she hears Essek’s voice.

“Thank you, Caduceus. We have temporary security on your home - nothing excessive, but enough that no one has to worry.” 

Beau crosses her arms, looking up at Fjord. He shrugs, holding up the box. 

“Might as well,” He says. 

Beau looks back to Caduceus, his eyes drooping as he squints at Essek in the dark.

“Thank you. We need to go, but thank you for all your help.” Caduceus says. 

Beau listens for a moment, but there is no response. She watches as Caduceus nods and closes the door, sagging against it. 

“I’m so glad you two are home. We need to talk, come on,” He says, grabbing his staff and limping forward, Beau and Fjord following behind.

Chapter Text

He takes a deep breath, looking between the faces of his parents. He flexes his hands under his mother's grip, the muscles and tendons straining beneath the skin. 

“You must know. You must know that I killed you. We rolled the cart in front of the door, and I cast Firebolt. A wicked, cruel spell - I have killed monsters with it. And people. You just snap your hand and speak a few words -"

 He says, taking a hand off of Frumpkin and snapping his fingers by his shoulder, the cracking sound sharp in the quiet cottage.

Una reaches forward suddenly, grabbing his hand and pulling at it, frustration in her eyes. Her grip is tight as she presses his hands between hers. Her face is fierce, eyebrows drawn together as she stares at him, nostrils flaring.

“We are not fools, Bren. We know how we died. It is past. You are our child, and we have forgiven you,” She says, squeezing his hand as he feels the air leave his lungs, jaw falling open. 

“You lost your mind . Your beautiful mind,” She says, reaching up to tuck a long lock of hair behind his ear, her hand cupping his cheek once more, her eyes boring into his as her brows knit, sorrow pulling lines across her smooth brow.

“You escaped. Disappeared. You killed us - and you ran from everything that made you do it.” She whispers furiously, her grip tight on his slack face. 

His father leans forward, a hand on his wife’s shoulder. 

“It took time, son. We have been gone for...a long time. We know what happened,” He rubs at Una’s back as she huffs, lowering her grip on Caleb’s face and gripping his hand harder, tapping another rhythm against his skin with anxious fingers.

He speaks evenly, glancing at his wife before lowering his sharp eyes to Caleb’s. 

“What we would like to know...is why. ” 

Caleb looks to the table, fixing his eyes on the hole in the corner. 

“I can try. I am still learning, even after all these years,” He says after a moment, raising his eyes to glance at his mother.

“You’re right. I have very powerful friends, more powerful than I can truly explain. I have spoken with King Dwendal,” He says, hearing a gasp from his mother as his father leans forward.

“My friends and I are Heroes to the Queen of the Dynasty. We have killed monsters - demons of high rank. And I have...with their help, I have achieved magic and...happiness that I could have never imagined.” He says, his voice catching as he thinks of his friends, loud and ridiculous and loving - and for now, gone. 

“But before all of that, I was just Bren. I was just a boy that wanted to be great, and would do anything to be so. That desire consumed me, and Ikithon saw it. He saw it in me, and in others, and he took advantage of it. We were set aside - we were special, gifted. You knew this - you knew them. They burned brilliantly - they still do.” He says, taking a moment to sip his tea, the liquid shaking in the chipped clay cup.

He glances out the window - clouds have begun to roll in. In the brief silence he hears a muffled voice, like a moth in his ear. He tries to listen, but the sensation fades before he can trace any resemblance. His mother releases his hand, returning to her tracing as he lowers it to the table once more, setting down his cup.

“We were sent away from the city, to the countryside - safer, more...secretive. We trained rigorously, in the Arcane as well as subterfuge - and interrogation. You were not the only ones to die by my hand - they brought us many victims. Traitors, spies, common criminals - they all fell under our hands. Under my hands. We were to be more than mages - we were to be spies, assassins, silent warriors of the highest order. The Hand of the King, unseen and deadly. We were told that there was a new program, something that would make us more powerful than we could dream. That was when this began,” He says, holding his arms up once more. 

His parents watch as he raises his arms in front of him, holding the marred flesh aloft before lowering them once more, his mother’s touch returning with shaking fingers.  

“There is a powerful material, that looks like pale green glass or crystal - Residuum. Magically it can do amazing things - some spells consume things to work. If my friends are successful, the spell to raise me will take a diamond. Residuum can take the place. There are other things that it can do - it can hold and amplify enchantments. The thought was to infuse the crystal within a magic user's body in some way - to meld and transform. It did not go well.” He says quietly, his breath hitching as his mother’s hand slides from his arm to cover her face. 

He feels a hand cover his - his fathers, fingers wide and strong. He forces himself to meet his father's eyes, stunned to find tears flowing into his thick beard. 

“I’m so sorry, Bren. We didn’t know,” He starts, squeezing Una’s shoulder. 

She holds her head in her hands, thin shoulders shaking as she begins to weep quietly. Caleb panics, reaching weakly for her. 

“ Mutter, no - this isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known -” 

She rips her hands from her face, slamming them to the wooden table with enough force to rattle the teacups. Her mouth twists in misery as her thin shoulders heave with her ragged breaths. His father shook his head, gripping the back of her neck gently. 

“Our son was tortured , and we knew nothing - how long did they do this to you?!” She demands, her bright green eyes rimmed in red as she searches his face. 

“Mutter, please it’s not -” He begs, reaching for her hands. 

She lets him take them, and he folds her pale fingers in his, feeling their callouses slide against each other. She takes a few moments to compose herself, and Caleb hears another dull rumble of thunder in the distance. 

“How long?” She says lowly, her eyes never leaving his face. 

He keeps her gaze, fighting the panic that fills him, heart pounding in his chest. Silence stretches, and he hears the distant creak of a bedframe. Her hands are warm and trembling in his, her long nails pressing into the skin of his palm.

There is no use for lies.

“A year,” He whispers, hearing a soft gasp from his mother across him. 

“We were almost ready,” He continues, ignoring the harsh breath of his father as he closed his eyes. 

Their faces are too much - they still love him too much. Why do they love him so much? 

“Trent Ikithon is a monster. He is also a powerful mage. He wanted full, unwavering, untainted obedience. He had taken farm children and turned them to lions. He had to know if the lions were loyal. He planted what I know now to be false memories. I was not strong enough to resist them as indoctrinated as I was. They made us all think that you were traitors - conspirators in an underground ring to bring down the empire. It was everything that we stood against. It was too perfect - I had known you for fifteen years, my parents were not traitors. But I was a fool. And once we knew the truth, that our parents were everything we were meant to hunt and murder - there was no other option.”

He opened his eyes, lifting his head to his parents. Their faces are drawn - Una is sniffling, her red rimmed eyes boring into his as his father gives him a small nod, his hand on his mother's shoulder. He moves his gaze between them, the eye contact blistering. He has thought of their eyes for so long.

“They were with me - we had already killed that night. I was so sure. I knew that what I was doing was right - was the only choice I could make. We shoved the cart in front of the door, the other barred with magic. I summoned the firebolt to the cart, and for a few minutes there was nothing but the sound of the fire, the waiting. I was so sure,” He says, as his mother squeezes his hand to the point of pain.

“And then I heard you. Screams. They pierced through me, and it broke through the magic. I heard the screams, and I ran forward...and I…”

He looks down at their hands, his own limp as he pushes the screams away, still so clear in his mind. 

“I broke. A moment of agony and clarity, and then eleven years of...nothing. I was a ghost - I remember almost nothing from the asylum. Until a woman - she was new, she - she would have moments of sanity, where she spoke clearly and then - back to madness. But she saw me, or she saw something in me and she...one day she laid her hands on my shoulders and suddenly it was all gone. Instantly, for the first time in over a decade my mind was mine. And more - she took the memories away, for good. I knew, now, that it had all been a lie. I had murdered my parents, who had always loved and guided me, for nothing.” 

The clouds above darken, slow thunder rolls mingling with a dull groan that dimly sounds like Beau. His parents wait quietly, his mother wiping a tear away on her sleeve. 

“I had to escape. I...I killed a guard, and stole a necklace that he had - I recognized it from my training. It prevents scrying or watching upon the one who wears it. And I ran. And for years, that was my life.” He pauses, a smile pulling at his cheek. 

He glances to his mother, finding the strength to squeeze her hand. 

“And then I met a drunk goblin in a jail cell. She was incredible - smart, funny, and quick with a bow. We escaped the jail, and stayed together...one night, another. We travelled for months until we met them,” 

His heart tugs - reeking and paranoid, eavesdropping on another table. A sudden flash of color, and a blue, freckle strewn face with the most impossible violet eyes. 

“You should take a bath, you know they have showers here, it's possible.” 

“And then I met the rest, in a podunk tavern in Trostenwald. Fjord, Beauregard, Yasha, Jester...Molly. They changed my life. We lost one, Molly, and gained another - Caduceus. We have lived together, fought together - we have saved each other's lives more than I can recall. I was able to help them - the goblin, Nott - she was a halfling. She had been changed, cursed. Her name is Veth - she has a family, a husband and child. We were able to restore her. Change her back.” He says, smiling at the memory, Veth’s soft body clinging to him in Marion’s ruined bathroom. 

His mother shakes her head at him as his father looks at him open mouthed. 

“You did what?” His mother says, a bemused smile on her face.

“I...well, it was a group effort.” He says quietly. 

His mother smiles weakly at him, shaking her head at her child. 

“So humble, my son.” She murmurs, a soft smile on her face as Caleb blushes, pressing forward. 

“But before that, we did so much - we began to get dragged into bigger things - things far more dangerous and momentous than I ever imagined. When we learned about Veth’s truth, we found her husband - but he had been kidnapped by the Kryn. So, we, ah -” 

He breaks off for a moment, chuckling at the memory of a blue dire badger tearing at the dirt and rubble; Beau reading smut out loud in the dark; a mad little kobold screaming at Fjord.

His parents' faces light up, and he feels his cheeks hurt from the sudden memory. They smile weakly, waiting patiently. 

“We followed a tunnel, under and into Xhorhas. We did a few favors, and we won one for ourselves. An audience with the Queen. It didn’t go well, but I was able to save our skin - the artefact we found, it was precious to the Kryn - a Beacon of incredible power. We went from prisoners to heroes in a single instant. And then…” 

He trails off, hearing a voice in his ear. He closes his eyes, focusing.

“I’ll see you soon, Caleb.” 

“Jester,” He breathes, his parents confused faces greeting him.

“Do you hear her?” His mother says.

He takes a few breaths, only able to nod quickly at his mother, eyes wide as he listens. She squeezes his hands, a smile returning to her face. 

“That's good. That's good! What was it?” 

He catches his breath, still listening for the voice. 

“It was my...it was Jester she is...she’s a cleric. She is...a tiefling, very striking. She has the most incredible eyes,” He says quietly, feeling a flush of color as he tries to describe her. 

His mother raises an eyebrow, looking at him pointedly. 

“Really?” His father says curiously, seeming to stare right through him. 

“Ja, ah,” Caleb lets himself laugh, facing the possibility of interrogation from his parents about a...about a crush. 

“She’s my friend. She’s...brilliant. They all are. Really family, now. She said...she said she would see me soon. So, ah -” He looked between their faces. 

“They are going to try. I don’t know what is going to happen but - they are going to try.” He whispers, watching relief cross his parents faces. 

His father rises, stepping over to lift him out of the chair. He lets himself be pulled with ease, yanked like a ragdoll like to his feet. He stumbles forward, his father steadying him with a powerful clap on the shoulder

“Good! Now, you have enough time to take a walk with your old man,” Leofric says, patting his shoulders and starting out the front door, broad back slipping away. 

Caleb looks to Una dumbfounded, but she just shrugs her shoulders and gives him a push with a grin. 

“He wants you to himself. Don’t worry he can’t hurt you,” She teases, poking his sides as he backs towards the front door. 

He slaps her away weakly, a blinding smile on his mother’s face.

She always loved to play. Jester would have loved her.

She gives him a quick hug before sending him out the door, his father waiting ahead. 

“Come take a walk, son. Let me have you before your lady love snatches you away,” He calls, and Caleb feels a dumb smile pull his face. 

Vater had often been so...serious sometimes. This was new. 

Perhaps Mutter has gotten to him here.

He gives her another look behind him and she waves him off, pointing to his father. He turns, a cautious smile on his face as another whisper carries on the wind.

“We’re coming for you.”

Chapter Text

The breath of her companions began to even, Beau’s soft snores filling the room as the exhausted Nein fell to sleep. Caleb’s room was dark, save for the thin sliver of light beneath the door, the heavy curtains drawn. The quiet rasp of Yasha polishing the Magician’s Judge could be heard in between Beau’s snores. 

With Yasha at guard, Jester knew that the room was safe. Especially with the Dynasty watching the house - a source of annoyance. They were too weak to defend from an attack, however unlikely. The Queen had sounded sincere, from what Fjord and Beau had said, leaning against the wall as she waved her hands about, surprise and frustration in her voice. 

“So she just leaned back and gave us this look. Sometimes I forget how powerful she really is. I don’t understand too much about all the mechanics of it, but you have to wonder how many people she has lost over how many lives, what that does to a person. Anyway she gives us this look and says, and I quote, ‘Anything for the Heroes of the Dynasty’ , and I just kinda...blacked out and let Fjord takeover from there.”  

They had gathered in Caleb’s room. Veth sat on the bed at his feet, her eyes glazed over. Fjord and Beau stood close, Beau leaning slightly into his side. Caduceus was leaning against Caleb’s desk, his staff in a corner - Jester was at the end of the bed with Veth. Yasha had volunteered to watch the door, and they didn’t have the heart to argue with her. 

“I want to try. I know the spell.” Jester said into the quiet, her voice feeling small as she looked around at her friends. 

Caduceus gave her a small smile, his eyes full of understanding.

“That sounds nice Jester. Can you explain it to the others?” He said kindly, waving a hand at their questioning faces.

She thought for a moment, looking down the bed back to the body, her stomach twisting. 

“It won’t be quick, like the other times. It’ll take a while, and we will need everyone,” She turned her head away forcefully, looking down at the floor. 

“We have to convince him to come back. If it's enough, and he can, he will. But I need to sleep. How about tomorrow, at sunset?” She asked, the rest of them murmuring in agreement.

“What do you mean convince him?” Beau asked quietly, her voice hoarse. 

Jester looked at her face, taking in the sudden, hard set of her eyes. Jester tried to place her expression, and she settled on fear. Jester’s breath hitched hard, and she had breathed a sigh of relief when Caduceus spoke after a tense moment. 

“His soul is gone, but it isn’t far, not yet. We have to ask him to come back, convince him to return to his body. It isn’t easy to come back like this - it will be very painful, in more ways than one. But,” He said with a smile, his eyes soft on Jester’s. 

“We know him, and I think he will be eager to return. But, we all have to rest,” He said quietly, glancing at Beau with a nod. 

Beau shook her head, and Jester had looked over to see Fjord and Veth exchange a knowing look. 

“We have to convince him? We don’t need to go get him?” Beau asked lowly, her eyes hard as she looked at Caduceus. 

Jester felt her breath leave, head spinning as Beau spoke. Caduceus had merely smiled, inclined his head towards Beau. She was anxious, her eyes flitting to the body and back. Jester squinted, trying to read the tight set of her eyes. She was afraid . 

Afraid they could not convince him?

“You’d be surprised how many things can be resolved with a conversation. And where he is, we can’t exactly go,” He said simply, before lying down and quickly falling asleep. 

Jester had almost wanted to laugh as he turned away from them, as enigmatic as always. Beau had uncrossed her arms, settling down with her bedroll, her expression distant. The rest of them followed, the desire to remain together unspoken. Yasha chose to stay up and guard the door, saying it made her feel better. Jester was curled beside the bed on the floor, Beau’s words replaying in her head, fearful and clipped. She was weary with sleep and grief, but her mind wouldn’t settle. Her chest felt hollow, Caleb’s face hazy behind her eyelids.

Heroes of the Dynasty, she thought, the hard wood pressing into her arm beneath the thin bedroll. 

We weren’t really that heroic.

They had asked to see the Queen and promptly proved their guilt - Jester had felt her body fill with panic as the rattling, heavy chains were clapped on them one after the other before Caleb had saved them. In one silver-tongued plea, he had saved their skins and their mission. She will never forget the image of him holding the Beacon aloft, the sharp planes of his face illuminated in the glow, blue eyes gleaming with determination as his long, soot-stained fingers presented their salvation.

Hero of the Dynasty, more like it. 

She squeezed her eyes tightly, the image of Caleb’s broken back suddenly the only thing behind her lids, the weight of his broken body in her arms. He had been stabbed, crushed, even eaten before.

Well, when I think about it, a lot of us have been eaten.

But he always got up. Three of them had gone down - more including Orly. But Caleb, squishy Caleb, had always come back. They all did. 

Jester hated it when people didn’t come back. 

She has never hated it more than this, this lasting uncertainty clawing at her. 

She tries the breathing exercises she has seen Beau practice, and it quiets her for a few minutes, before the vision of Caleb’s fine coat coated in warm blood sends a shudder through her, sitting up straight and wrapping her arms around herself. She looks to her right - she is almost eye level with the body. Her vision adjusts quickly, the darkness fading.

She rises to her knees, reaching her hands out to touch the arm of the vine-bound body. The vines are cool to the touch, a vivid green save for the dark spot over the wound. They encase the body fully, the weave impossibly tight. She rises to her feet, ghosting her hand over his temple. His sharp face, his long hair, the ruined fine coat - all hidden behind tiny, magic vines. She presses a hand to his cheek, struck with the sudden worry that his eyes are still open.

Mama always said that was bad luck, she thinks dully, the thought of his blue eyes wide beneath the shroud rising to her mind’s eye again. She had often been grateful for the vivid visuals that she could conjure, for how her eyes were able to hold an image in perfect detail for years, her hands able to put it to paper in stunning clarity.  

For the first time, she wishes it would stop, if only to have some reprieve from their visions in her mind. Her belly twists with disgust at the thought of his brilliant eyes wide in fear, eyes that had always darted away from her own, eyes full of kindness, for her silly pranks, for her lies, for her ignorance of the world and its ways. 

Fjord’s eyes had been open, the bright yellow iris dimmed, the lid half-drawn. His eyes had closed when he had breathed again, his face contorted with pain. Caduceus had been the same way, eyes clenched against the agony and confusion. Veth’s eyes had fluttered open, the wide goblin eyes alight in the dark.. Fjord had been cut to almost pieces, Caduceus badly burned, Veth sundered magically - but Caleb - how much pain would he feel when the magic restarted his heart?

Could they heal him enough to restore him when he was crushed, impaled? What would it feel like to return to your body, to face the horror of your having left it for that long? 

She presses the heels of her palms to her eyes, the pressure almost painful as she tries to silence her mind. She is not afraid of gore, she has seen and done things that would turn the stomachs of many. She remembers the stunned look on Caleb’s face as she hacked up a fiend for Yarnball, blood and viscera flying as she cheerfully butchered the creature. But something about his body, still and shrouded, sent a curl of disgust down her spine. 

Because it’s wrong. Because Caleb isn’t supposed to be dead.

She looks down - Caleb’s bed was not too large. But there was enough room beside the body for a short tiefling. 

She took a glance around the room - Fjord and Beau were back to back to the left of her, Caduceus lying near them, his mouth slack in sleep. Nott - Veth, she corrects herself, is curled at the feet of the body on the bed, her diminutive form arched around his feet. 

She swallows the bile rising, sitting on the bed and slowly laying beside Caleb, her lips an inch from his ear on the pillow. Momma said that hearing is the last thing to go when someone is dying. 

He is dead yes, but he is...somewhere. Just like the others were. She doesn’t know where he is - but he is somewhere. She folds her hands under her head, taking a shaking breath. 

“Hey Caleb. I’m sorry it's taking so long. We’re coming for you, I promise. Just hold on, okay? Don’t get any crazy ideas,” She whispers, fighting to keep her voice cheerful. 

“I’m going to talk to Artagan, and Caduceus is talking to the Wildmother. We’re going to get you back - we have the spell. We’re safe, here in the Xorhouse. The Queen was pissed , apparently, she like, really loves you.” 

Silence stretches, and she fights a sob that hitches in her throat. He always responded to her, and if she was lucky she could get that smile. It pulled at his sharp chin, a dimple in his right cheek, a pink flush across his high boned pale face. For a moment he was just there, present and laughing at her dumb jokes instead of lost in his whirring mind. For a moment someone saw her, and smiled, finding comfort in her presence, joy at her silly words. 

You’re being selfish, Lavorre.

She lays there for a few more minutes, the soft snores and rasps almost soothing her to sleep. A falling sensation grips her and she starts, leaning her forehead softly into his cheek on the pillow, careful not to press on the fragile flesh and bone. 

“We love you Caleb. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek before sitting up carefully and tiptoeing to the edge of the room, opening the door slowly. 

Yasha looks up at her, brows drawn in a silent question. Jester raises a finger to her lips, shutting the door behind her. 

“I need to go talk to the Traveler, about the spell for tomorrow. I’ll be back soon.” She says quietly. 

Yasha nods, resuming her cleaning. 

“I will be here when you return,” Yasha responds simply, and Jester gives her a small smile before she pushes the door of the laboratory open, padding through the dark mansion up to her and Beau’s shared room.

She closes the door behind her, sinking to her knees and grabbing her pack of spell components. One last thing before she can sleep - she has to choose her spells. The one she needs is one she has asked for before - the Traveler had shown her after Fjord died. She had filled her sketchbook with the scene, asking if there was a way to bring someone back if you couldn’t get to them for a while. He answered quickly, the spell coming to her in dreams. She had written it down, just in case, grateful for the guidance of her god. 

It was so much easier when he was a god. 

Maybe not, she thinks, arranging the incense.

Not everyone gets to make their own god. At least I serve my own - does that mean I just serve myself?

She imagines Caleb, his face fond and exasperated as he tries to answer her - the way his eyes would go a little wide, blinking as his clever mind tried to figure out what to do with her. She tries to imagine what he would say, his voice measured, careful not to offend. So damn kind.  

“Of course Jester, now would you like fat flying unicorns or muscular flying hippos for the snack table at Travercon?” 

She says to herself, trying to imitate his accent as she reaches her sketchbook. She sits back on her knees and sketches quickly. After a moment she sits her book down in front of the incense. The sketch is quick, crude, but effective.

A vine wrapped body laid on a bed. 

One last spell. 

She had been hesitant to go back to the dungeons. But with the Laughing Hand and Oban gone, there were fewer enemies - at least ones that would turn their party members directly against them. They were seeking information this time, not a fight - and they knew their way around. It had made sense to refuse more help - they could move easier without managing other people. And they didn’t need the responsibility of someone else’s life in their hands. 

She remembered praying the night before, sending her will for the spells she would need. Commune made sense, with the whole demon god thing. She wonders now if that was why Caleb was dead downstairs. If she had just taken another spell, or been faster or if they had taken the damn help -  

“Godfucking DAMNIT,” She spits into the silence, striking the match to the incense and sucking her teeth at the flaring burn that runs up her thumb, slapping the fire out. 

She stares at the spot for a moment, the flesh unharmed as she turns her hand in the dim light. She closes her eyes, the sweet aroma rising in the room as she clutches the Doorway and sending  her will forth.

“Artie, I need you. Caleb is dead. Please...help me.” She whispers, keeping her words simple as her chest tightens once more. 

She hears him first, the swish of a cloak. Artagan appears in front of her, as though from a distance - she watches with impatience as he comes forward, long fingers lowering the hood to reveal an expression of concern beneath his wild hair. He glances down to the open sketchbook before meeting her eyes once more, the Fey more subdued than he has ever seen him. 

“Oh Jester, ” He breathes, his lilting voice low. 

He caresses her cheek, his touch strange and warm, and she allows herself to be comforted by her oldest friend, pushing aside her multitude of questions for him. Later, she thinks. 

“I liked him quite a lot. He is a good man, you know. Good sense of humor too, surprisingly. So...troubled. But kind. That familiar wouldn’t care for him so otherwise.” He murmurs. 

She nods, her eyes opening to the Fey, his face a foot from her own. She feels the same focus that held her in the cave return - you have three questions, Jester. 

“Can we get him back?” She asks, feeling his hand tighten on her cheek, the long fingers pressing gently in assurance. 

“Yes, my dear. I have shown you the spell. I will show you again tonight.” 

He says calmly, and she feels emboldened at his words. It was such a joy to have him to herself again, to feel his favor and his friendship, all lies sundered. 

“Will he be able to come back?” She asks, the Fey leaning back slightly in thought. 

“He may. Every soul is different - are you asking..?” 

He trails off, his affectionate expression turning to concern. She feels her throat choke with fear, taking a gasping breath. 

“He always said...I know he has done terrible things. He won’t...he won’t tell me . I think he’s told the others. But - we’ve all done bad things now and I...I don’t know the ways of the gods but I...I know he is good, I know it ,” She says, her voice fierce in the empty room. 

Artagan remains silent, waiting. 

“Jester,” He says softly, his thumb sliding along her jaw. 

It reminds her of Momma, and she realizes that if Caleb is dead, she can no longer reach her so quickly. Nausea fills her and she tries to shake the thought away.

Always so fucking selfish, Lavore, she thinks bitterly, forcing herself to speak past the sudden tightness in her throat. 

“Is he in the hells?” She whispers quickly, feeling the tears fall at last. 

Artagan’s brows furrow, reaching forward slowly to brush the tears from her face with his thumbs, a confused sadness coloring his strange face. His bright green eyes hold hers as his long fingers flutter to her shoulders, his voice steady.

“He is not. He is safe from that. I cannot...I can’t tell you more, my darling.” 

Jester sags in relief, the Travelers hands holding her up. She feels a kiss press to her brow, opening her eyes as Artagan pulls away, setting her down gently. 

“All you can do is try, my Jester. But I would not fear - something tells me he will be eager to return. And, I will be with you,” He says, his image fading with an affectionate smile.  

She lets her head fall back as he disappears, the incense snuffing. Darkness returns to the room, and her eyes adjust quickly. 

She rocks to her hands and knees, standing with a groan of pain. Her arms and shoulders ache from carrying Caleb for so long, and her wounds from the fight are barely patched. She stumbles back to Caleb’s room - Yasha remains, her head resting against the wooden door, sword across her lap, eyes slit. She leans forward as she hears Jester pad around the corner, her eyes going soft. 

She rises silently, reaching down to give Jester a hug. Yasha’s voice is close to her ear as she asks, 

“Did you get the answers you needed?”

Jester nods into her shoulder, sniffling and giving Yasha the best smile she can manage. 

“Ja, I...I did. It depends on...on Caleb, and on us. It isn’t a sure thing, but Artagan is with me. I don’t know where Caleb is but he’s safe.” She whispers, feeling Yasha grip her tighter, wincing slightly. 

She pats Yasha’s shoulder, the large woman stepping back. 

“Thank you Yasha, you’re always taking care of us - and hey, if we can’t get him maybe the Stormlord or the Wildmother can do something, you know?” 

Yashas eyes grow far, her broad shoulders hunched.

“I didn’t take care of you all, always. But I want to. I will be here as long as you will all have me. I wish,” She says, her eyes looking to Jester’s. 

“I wish I had protected him. This has...this has happened too many times.” Yasha whispers. 

“Its not your fault Yasha. It really isn’t anyones fault...the fucking cave fell down,” Jester says with a huff, waving a hand in the air and patting Yasha’s massive shoulder.

To her surprise, Yasha smiles, her broad shoulders shrugging. 

“That’s true. But...you can get him back. That is...that is a miracle. I never imagined that something like that would be possible, you know? Where I come from, dead means dead.” Yasha says quietly. 

Jester feels a wave of sadness roll over her - Yasha has lost so much. At least there is a chance to make something right. What if she can’t get him back? What if - 

Yasha leans down, pressing her forehead to Jesters. She takes in a deep breath, and Jester copies her, her breath choppy. She closes her eyes, Yasha’s presence comforting. She had missed her so much. 

“You have done incredible things, Jester. I know he’ll come back. For you, he would do anything,” Yasha says, standing back and giving her a knowing smile. 

Jester stares at her, mouth open, as Yasha returns to her seat, picking up the sword and returning her attention to it, taking a polishing cloth to the already gleaming blade. Jester stands there dumbly for a moment before shaking her head, the bells on her horns loud in the empty chamber. Dull understanding begins to knock at her mind, but she pushes it away. 

She is so fucking tired. 

She opens the door, tiptoeing back in, Yasha closing the door behind her with a soft whump. A quick glance shows the Nein still fast asleep, Veth curled tightly around Caleb’s feet. Jester glances to her bedroll before feeling her shoulders tighten. The thought of sleeping away from Caleb is suddenly too much to bear, the fear melting away. 

She lies down, returning to press her lips to his ear once more - more confident now after her talk with Artagan. She lets her body relax, settling beside him, careful not to jostle. The tight weave doesn’t give though, and she lets her body lean into his cool side. She places a hand on his chest, feeling a flare of determination and something...else. Her spine tingles as she reaches up to cup his cheek, her heart pounding. She feels...protective. 

Possessive. Why do I...

“Hi Caleb. I’m back. We’re coming back for you Caleb. Just hold tight okay?” She says, closing her eyes as the exhaustion of the day begins to press her into the bed, her body growing slack.

“I’ll see you soon,” She whispers, falling into sleep.

Chapter Text

.

He kissed his mother on the cheek and headed out, pausing in the doorway. He turned, looking at his mother, taking her in. 

The storm on the horizon had grown darker, the half light of the open window behind her casting her in dappled grey. The breeze pulled at her long red hair, her apron mussed where he had gripped it. One pale hand pressed to the dark wood of the table, her long fingers casting a small valley of shadows. The bright green of her eyes cut through him, lips pulled in a soft smile. 

What if I don’t remember this? What if I never see them again? Is this a dream? Is -

His racing thoughts stop as she walks forward, shaking her head and patting him gently on the cheek. The light catches her face, and he fights a lump in his throat at the smatter of golden freckles across her pale skin, her pale green eyes striking in the grey light.

“Go on, love. He won’t keep you long,” She says gently, playfully slapping him out, leaning in the doorway and watching him leave with a fond smile. 

He shakes his head forcefully, focusing on the worn path. A quick glance tells him that his father is not far - he walks to the ledge behind their home, overlooking a shallow valley.

He remembers bright mornings, cold and bundled carefully by his mother. They stood, tea in hand, steam pouring off the cups in the dawn. And then - sun, breaking and brilliant, the rays casting snow crested hills in sparkling gold. The first time he ever tasted ale as a child, given at the Winter Solstice by his laughing father, coughed up in the snow. 

He cannot remember the last time he celebrated the Solstice. He cannot remember the last time he celebrated anything. 

His father is halfway to the overlook, hands in his pockets. Caleb catches up, glancing at the dark grey of the rolling clouds, a faint rumble that sounds almost like a snore echoing dimly over the undulating golden fields. He walks alongside him, looking up at his father with a smile. 

The man had always seemed so huge in his memory - he had hoped that he would grow into his father’s frame. His hair was auburn, a more ruddy shade than his mother's bright red, kept short in life. His muscles were strong from digging trenches, pounding nails into the leaking roof, directing the heavy plow behind the mules. 

Leofric smiles widely as he takes him astride, patting the small of his back gently. 

“I just wanted a few moments,” He says. 

Caleb huffs, his head lolling forward. Shame blooms in his belly, and he gives his father a tight, sad smile. 

“I know. You deserve more than that,” He says, training his eyes on the path, away from the understanding eyes of his father. 

His father stops and they turn to gaze over the ledge. He had always loved this view as a child - it seemed like the whole world was there in the little valley by his home. Over the years a few more families had moved into the valley - it was a rare thing in the Zemnian fields, the land otherwise unbroken expanses of softly rolling hills. Now he knew it was less of a valley and more of a large ditch, but as a boy it had seemed so vast. 

His father sighed, crossing his arms over his barrel chest. Another peal of thunder sounded across the fields, and Caleb clenched his jaw at a sudden dull ache in his side, the choppy wind tugging at his unbound hair. His father glanced at him, eyebrows raised at the grimace on Caleb’s face, and he forced his hand away. 

“Bren?” His father asks, eyes concerned. 

Caleb shook his head, trying to give a reassuring smile. 

“It's nothing. I...I don’t know how these things work. How...going back works.” He says quietly. Leofric huffs, watching him with a thoughtful smile. 

“I cannot imagine. Coming back from the dead, like something out of a legend. You are part of things that I could never imagine.” He laughs softly, kicking at the dirt as he lowers his head. 

“My little boy. An assassin, a traitor, a Mage - a hero. My little Bren, all freckles and big eyes.” He murmurs, his eyes soft as he looks back to Caleb, reaching out a hand and clasping his shoulder. 

Caleb sighs, leaning into his father’s hand. His side protests, and he grips tighter at the flesh, skin cold beneath his thin shirt. Leofric watches him carefully, his grip tight.

“I don’t want to keep you from Una. And I do not think you will be here much longer,” He says quietly, and Caleb nods, breathing hard against another wave of pain. 

His father gives him a sad smile, eyes tight.

“I never had a chance to speak to you, as a man. I wish we had more time. I have wondered what I would want to tell you. Bits and pieces are really all we have of you now but I…” Leofric sighs, reaching out to tussle Caleb’s loose hair, running a hand through the loose strands. 

Caleb smiles, and Leofric shakes his head with a lopsided grin. 

“So long. You look so much like her,” He says softly, holding the side of Caleb’s neck, his weathered palm warm on his skin. 

“They always kept our hair cut to the scalp. Letting it grow out helped me hide and then...I just got used to it. My friends like it,” He says with a smile, blushing at the memory of Jester’s clever hands pulling and weaving braids into his long hair, Veth plaiting in clusters of flowers that Yasha had gathered.

His father chuckles, patting his neck. 

“It looks good,” His father says simply, eyes sad as he gives him a long look. 

“This is more difficult than I thought it would be,” Leofric exclaims with a sigh, and Caleb laughs unexpectedly, clenching his teeth at the twinge in his side. 

Leofric smiles, throwing back his head, the strong tendons of his neck flexing as he smacks Caleb in the shoulder. Caleb coughs at the force, almost stumbling. His father holds him up, chuckling. 

His eyes are crinkled in a grin, and Caleb feels a smile tug at his mouth. Leofric places his hands on his shoulders, looking him up and down.

“Laughing at your father, so disrespectful.” Leofric says lowly, shaking his head at Caleb. 

“I tried to think of what I would want to tell you. So many times but each time it...there is so much to say. So much I want to know, so much I wanted to tell you. I know your mother feels the same way. But more than that I want you to live - I want you to live, and be great, and…” Leofric says, his voice growing tight as he looks away. 

Caleb reaches out, placing his hand over his father’s, another peal of thunder rumbling over the hills, closer now. He tries to ignore it, his body beginning to ache dully, the pain in his side deepening. Leofric frowns, glancing up at the roiling sky and back to Caleb. Caleb takes a deep breath, smiling weakly as Leofric purses his lips. 

“We don’t have much time. I want to tell you - I am proud of you. You have done terrible things Bren, don’t think that I am not…” 

Leofric paused, biting his lip and squeezing Caleb’s shoulders as he looked away for a moment, taking a deep breath. He looks back to Caleb, eyes wet in the grey light. 

“But you have done great things. You have the chance to go back, and be even better. To be more,” His father says, and Caleb feels his chest chench at his words, closing his eyes and leaning into his father’s strong grip. 

“This woman, Jester, is she special to you?” Leofric says quietly, and Caleb goes still as thunder rumbles through him, the wind growing more fierce as it snarls his hair. 

A lump forms immediately in his throat, and he swallows hard around it. 

“She is…” He stammers, mouth going dry as his heart hammers in his chest. 

Leofric watches him carefully, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. 

“She is special, the most special person I have ever met. Silly, but wize and powerful and...” He says in a rush, feeling a flush run up his neck. 

Leofric smiles widely, chuckling at his son. 

“She sounds like it. You know, your mother said no to me the first time I asked,” He says, and Caleb shakes his head quickly, waving his hands. 

“It's not like that, it's...it's useless. She deserves better than me and there are others...far more suited. It is...she is special. That is all.” He says in a whisper, feeling the weight of his father’s gaze as he looks away. 

Leofric takes his shoulders again, gripping and shaking him slightly. Caleb hisses through his teeth, gripping his side and meeting his father’s eyes, the bright blue pinning him. He wonders briefly if his eyes have the same effect, the same piercing attention that Leofric could conjure. 

“You are dead, Bren. And if your friends can do what you say they can, you may not be dead soon. Do not waste that, Bren. Your happiness is not useless, my son. If you love this woman, tell her. You have lost enough time,” He says harshly, wide hands squeezing Caleb’s shoulders.

Caleb’s mouth falls open, and he feels tears at the corner of his eyes once more. He imagines it for a moment, her hands cool in his grip as he cracked his chest open at last. The thought of her bright eyes growing cold and afraid, her sure grip slipping away as he laid out his sins. He couldn’t allow it. 

“It isn’t like that, Vater. She doesn’t...I can’t.” He whispers, heart pounding in his ears. 

Leofric shakes his head with a sad smile, pulling Caleb in and holding him in a tight embrace. Caleb wraps his shaking arms around him, and Leofric pulls away, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. 

“Well, I said what I wanted to say. Don’t forget to live, Bren.” He says simply, placing his hands in his pockets and walking back to the house. 

Caleb tries to catch his breath, watching Leofric round the corner before turning back to look over the shallow valley once more. The sky has grown dark, round, heavy clouds rolling across the expanse. A flash of lightning catches his eye, and a bright, scraping peal of thunder rumbles across the fields. 

He closes his eyes, feeling the wind whip around him, tearing at his hair. He gasps in surprise as a drop of ice cold rain runs down his neck. He looks to the sky, the roiling grey clouds overtaking the horizon. He hears the rain begin to fall at the edge of the storm, a peppered rhythm against the whispered roar of the golden grass, the wind whipping the fields violently. 

He takes a deep breath, stealing a last glance at the darkening valley before heading back to the house. He kicks at the dirt, grimacing at the fresh bloom of pain from his side. Thunder rolls behind him, and he hears a low whisper in the rumble as it fades. 

“Don’t worry Mr. Caleb, we’re going to take care of you,”

“Caduceus,” He whispers, wiping at his face. 

He wonders what they are doing - if he can hear them that clearly, there is a good chance that the spell is almost set. He resolves himself to ask more about their magic, when he gets back. 

“If I get back,” He whispers to himself, the sound carried away in the wind. 

He hears a small trill, and looks to his feet here Frumpkin is winding between his ankles, her orange fur blowing in the wind. She looks up at him with wide eyes, meowing softly. He leans forward and picks her up, holding the cat close to his chest. Her purr is calming as he makes his way back to the door, leaning against the frame as he looks at his parents. 

Una and Leofric stand before him, Una wrapped in her husband's arms. Her face is buried in his chest, and Leofric is whispering something into her hair. He looks up as Caleb stands in the door, lifting an arm from his wife to wave Caleb forward. He walks forward sheepishly, feeling Una and Leofric wrap their arms around him. 

They stand together for a few moments, the rain growing louder in the distance. He hears another whisper, and the quiet rustle of fabric. Another peal of thunder breaks, and he feels the vibration in his bones. He breaks away, wincing as pain flashes through his body, tossing Frumpkin softly to the floor. Una looks up at him with concern, but Leofric just shakes his head, looking behind Caleb to the churning storm outside. 

Caleb gives his mother a tight smile, wincing as she cups his cheek. Her bright green eyes rove over his face, her lips parted slightly as she takes him in. She pats his cheek after a minute, giving his hand a squeeze. 

“I think it might be time,” She says softly, her freckled fingers trailing over his collar. 

Leofric claps his shoulder, and Caleb chuckles at the way it knocks the wind out of him. He looks at his parents, smiling at the sharp glance that his mother levels at Leofric. He reaches up to squeeze her hand, turning to kiss her palm. 

“I think so,” He says gently, watching the tightness pull at her eyes. 

Thunder cracks, the sound deafening and sharp, and he catches a spray of lightning out of the corner of his eye. The thunder dulls, the sound sharp and scratching - like a match to flint. 

Una nods, biting her lip. She reaches up, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. She drops her hand and steps away, wrapping an arm around her husband. Leofric gives her a quick squeeze, reaching out and holding Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb took a deep breath, reaching up to hold his father's arm, the muscle hard under his palm. 

“We love you, Bren,” Una says simply, tears falling slowly from her eyes. 

Leofric’s eyes are warm as he squeezes Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb feels his breath catch as he looks between them, trying desperately to commit their faces to memory. 

“I...I love you both so much. I can’t...I can never make it up to you,” He says, smiling as Una reaches out to smack his cheek playfully, holding his lapel with a trembling hand. 

“Will I ever see you again?” He whispers, voicing the fear for the first time. 

His mother's sad smile tells him all he needs to know, and he hangs his head before pulling them in for a hug. 

“I don’t know, love. I hope so,” She says, the sound muffled against his chest. 

Caleb holds them tightly for a moment, before another voice on the wind pulls at his ear. 

“...get ready.” 

“Jester,” He says, whipping his head behind him. 

At the end of the lane he could see a dull white light, sparking against the grey sky, the glow reflecting on the undulating waves of grass. He looks back to his parents, eyes wide. Una nods with understanding, pulling at the back of Leofric’s shirt. His father leans back, giving Caleb a gentle smile. 

“Don’t worry about us, son. Worry about yourself. Worry about your friends. Live, Bren.” He says simply, gesturing to the door. 

Caleb nods, his heart dropping as he glances back to the light. It was bobbing slightly, and he got the bizarre impression that it was impatient. He walked forward, his mother’s hand falling from his side with a soft sob. He stands in the door, watching them. His chest is tight, and he remembers - 

Standing in the door in Rexentrum, staring at a woman that he loved and pitied and feared all at once. Her eyes, so soft and so cruel at the same time. The way she spoke, hesitant and kind, and the scar that rippled down her handsome face. 

You can’t go back, he thought, forcing himself forward.  

I don’t want to. 

He gives his parents a smile, knocking his head against the doorframe loudly. His parents chuckle, Una wiping at her eyes as Frumpkin sits at their feet, her eyes squinting at him. 

“I will make you proud,” He says softly, wincing at the pain in his side. 

Una smiles, leaning into her husband as she wraps her arms around his middle. Leofric grins, the tendons pulling in his strong neck as he swallows. 

“You already do. Go on, save the world,” His father says tightly, Una nodding beside him. 

Caleb grins, reaching up to wave weakly. He takes a deep breath.

“I will try,” He says, before turning forcefully, striding forward to the light. 

The grasses bow and wave in the fierce wind, but the light is unmoving as he walks to it. He feels the urge to turn, and fights it, focusing on the glow. The light floats to his eyes, hovering for a moment before setting off ahead of him. He watches it go for a moment, his body paralysed. He grits his teeth, heading to the light, the pain in his side growing with every step. He pushes on, fighting the burning desire to turn around. 

The light leads him forward, and Caleb watches the storm crawl over him. Thunder rips through the sky, and he collapses, pressing his hands to his ears with a scream as his body is wracked with pain. The air is dry, and he feels the crackle of fire in the air, playing across his skin like a lover’s caress. 

The light stops, and he looks up with a slack jaw as it floats in place ahead of him. It strikes him once more that it looks impatient. He groans, pressing himself up. The desire to turn is still there, and he whimpers as the pain roils through him, squinting at the light. The light sparks, the sudden glow giving way to a figure, a blur of light and sound. He gasps, and the figure turns. Violet eyes meet his, and widen as he feels his heart begin to pound in his chest. 

“Caleb,” She breathes, her beautiful face aglow, a galaxy of freckles across indigo cheeks. 

The vision disappears, the light remaining, and Caleb grips his side, fighting a scream. He staggers, hissing through his teeth as the glow begins to burn brightly. He stumbles to it, holding out his hand and marveling at the warmth roiling from the orb. He hears a muffled voice, and his heart aches as he listens, gritting his teeth. 

“You saved me, in so many ways Caleb. You saved my family and...you helped me find more to life. You helped me learn that I was more than I ever thought I could be. I want the same for you, Caleb. You are so powerful, and so good . I love you so much. Please come back.”

“Veth,” He says, tears pricking at his eyes. 

Long nights curled up with her, huddling for warmth,. The tremble in her voice when she told her story, the grief he felt for her. Her smile as her husband held her, and the joy of returning her to her form, watching the clay wrap around her, magic roaring in his ears. He loved her so deeply, in a way that defied classification.  

He looks to the orb, but there is only the glow. He stills, listening for another voice against the turbulent rustle of the grass. 

“This fucking sucks Caleb. I told you a long time ago not to leave, and you didn’t. You told me the same thing. I didn’t. I didn’t give you permission to leave, Widogast. I have a little brother but...you’re my big brother, Caleb. You always were. And you need to be here, so I can call you on your shit and you can play dumb jokes on Fjord and…” 

He laughs bitterly, smiling against the warm glow of the orb. He remembers their first hug, awkward and strange and now - now he has ended a war with her, fought demons with her. He had always wanted a sister. 

“I’m sorry Beauregard,” He says softly. 

The glow intensifies, and he watches a spark of green pop away from the center, coloring the white glow. 

“Come back, Caleb. You’re not done,” He hears, and he grins against the pain, nodding. 

“You’re right,” He says softly. The orb flashes again, and he holds his breath.

“You have always been so nice to me, Caleb. You always talk to me and I...I’m less afraid than I was. I know that you are in pain - we are too. But if you come back, we can help each other,”

Yasha, he thought, his chest wincing. He never wanted her to feel alone again - he never wanted any of them to feel alone. Yasha, with her kind smile and strange eyes, eyes that saw him straight through. She knew, she knew when it was one of the last secrets he had. He knew what it felt like to have his mind taken, twisted. He knew the fear of being alone. He understood when the spilling of blood was the only thing that could calm a heart, her face twisted with shame in the fighting pit. 

“You taught me that. I know you see her. It’s not too late, Caleb.”

He hears, and his chest grows tight, remembering the searing feel of her strange eyes in the dark, her quiet question stilling his heart. The light pulses once more, sparking green energy spinning away from it in bursts. He watches the glow, static sticking in his hair. 

“You and I - we’ve grown so much, Caleb. Beau is right - you aren’t done. We need you here Caleb - I’m certianly too stupid to do this without you, I can’t speak for the others.”

Caleb grins, shaking his head at the orb as it sparks, the heat growing stronger. He flexes his hand where the scar arcs across his palm. Their handsome Captain, a man of bravery, of learned kindness. A ready laugh and a sure heart. The color begins to change, the green sparks growing stronger as the orb grows, and he holds his side, breathing hard against the pain. A fork of lightning arcs across the sky, and a voice rumbles in the thunder’s echoes.

“Hello Mr. Caleb. I think you’ve heard almost enough but you should know - you’re worthy, Caleb. Of all of it. Your life is just beginning, if you can believe it. The Wildmother doesn't intervene without reason. You’re supposed to be here.”

He squeezes his eyes tightly, pressing his head to his knees as he sinks down, his body wracked with pain. The truth of his words pierce through him, and he recalls the peace in Caduceus face as he looked at him over fish and chips, calmly telling him about how he saw a great destiny in the filthy man who showed up on his doorstep. “No more children on the fire,” He had said, wisdom and power swirling beneath his simple words and kind smile. 

He watches the orb spark, the heat bathing him as it glows, verdant and warm. His breath stops as the glow intensifies, burning bright and...blue.

She turns to him, and she is Jester and she is not, a glow of cool blue and bright violet, her soul sparking and burning. She reaches towards him, and he throws himself forward, gasping as the vision disappears. He pesses himself to his feet, fighting a scream as his body begins to burn with pain. Her voice fills his head, close and soft. 

“Please come back Caleb. I think...I think I know. And even if I don’t, I’m not afraid. It doesn’t matter what you did then - it’s not who you are. You are...you are funny , and kind, and you always support my stupid ideas. We need you here, Caleb.You’ve never given us, given me, anything but love. We love you. I love you,”

A bolt of lighting crashes behind him, flames licking forward. He lets his head fall back as the flames take him, the burn almost a welcome distraction. The pain begins to consume him, and he fights to keep his eyes open, watching as the orb grows rapidly, Jester’s radiant form now reaching for him. She grabs his wrist, and he looks in horror as the flames run up her arm, enshrouding her in flame. 

He watches the fire overtake her, his pain leaving him. He grips her other arm, squeezing his eyes tightly. A beach, warm and blue, and Jester, her eyes wide, watching him with a soft smile. Safe and sound - seen, and known.  

“...I love you,” He whispers, her bright eyes on his. 

The sound leaves his ears for a moment before rushing back, a roar of thunder cracking over the golden hills. He feels the icy rain begin to fall, hissing as it extinguishes the flames.

She looks at him with a wide smile, and he pulls her close, her form cool against his burning skin, clothes almost burned away. Her arms hold him tightly, and he sighs into her embrace, the cool press of her soul electric and consuming. He feels her pull away, and he looks into her gleaming eyes as she holds his face in her hands. She searches his face quickly, and he wonders impossibly, selfishly, if she feels just as overwhelmed as he does right now. 

“Come home,” She whispers fiercely, and he feels a tug in his chest. 

She disappears, and he feels himself fall forward. He fell to his knees, lifting his head to the orb. 

Where the orb had been is now a green, glowing archway, similar to the one he’s seen on Jester’s holy symbol. He has a moment to realize this before a long fingered hand reaches through the door, and Artagan stands in front of him, orange hair wild and frizzed, his bright green eyes manic. The fey’s eyes grow wide as he sees Caleb, waving wildly. 

“THERE you are, good gods you are hard to find. Come on, Jester’s absolutely devastated and she will be SO upset if you don’t come back,” He says, waving Caleb forward, his long eyebrows wiggling as he speaks, his hands waving around the gate. 

Caleb feels a stunned laugh leave him, and he chuckles as Artagan rolls his eyes. Caleb walks in front of the gate. Beyond the gate lies a void, the blackness a perfect hole in reality. 

“Thank you, Artagan,” He says quietly, standing in front of the gate. 

The fey waves his hands dismissively, giving Caleb a wry, harassed smile. 

“Well, I’ve always liked you. And Jester’s always liked you, so, go on, off you pop,” The fey says, lightly rapping the gate with his knuckles, the sound echoing eerily. 

Caleb shakes his head, bemused as he gazes into the gate. 

“Thank you all the same,” He says, taking a deep breath. 

He gives Artagan a last look.

“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” He asks wrly. 

The Archfey laughs, clasping his hands together tightly under his sharply pointed chin. 

“Oh it will be absolutely excruciating - but you already know that Caleb Widogast.” He says, his eyes alight with mischief as a grin spread across his sharp features. 

“Most good things hurt,” He says quietly, thinking of the glow of Jester’s eyes as she held onto him, the enduring love in his parents eyes as they held him. 

Perhaps the pain is worth it, though. Perhaps it could be.

“Come home,” She had said. 

He closes his eyes, walking forward and falling, blinding light and pressing darkness flying by his eyes.  His soul follows the pull of gravity, excruciating pain suffusing his being. He feels his back hit ground. He gasps, the air slammed from his lungs. For a blistering moment there is nothing but pain, darkness filling his vision as he struggles for breath. Suddenly he sees a dull light, white and encompassing.

His collapsed lungs fill, and he screams.

Chapter Text

She woke slowly, a beam of light warming her face. Her mind was quiet, body heavy with the toll of the day before. She sighed into the mattress, feeling sensation return to her heavy limbs as she nuzzled into her pillow. 

Cold.

Her eyes snapped open as she gasped and jumped back, adrenaline screaming. Bright green vines greet her, covering the still form of the body.

“Caleb,” She breathed, her chest heaving as she sat up, looking around the dim room. 

Empty bedrolls. 

She glances to the window, the twilight of Roshona pressing down. She pulls aside the heavy velvet curtain, peering to where one of their enchanted spheres hangs. A flash of motion catches the corner of her eye, and as she stares at a low tree she can just see the outline of a Lucid Bastion Guard. 

She draws the curtains quickly, taking a deep breath before she releases the heavy velvet, turning back to look at the body. She places a tentative hand over the vine-covered face. The crushed cheek is so close to her palm, the obscene craters and valleys of his flesh where the vines hold him together. 

There is a roaring in her chest that she can’t place, a void that screams as she forces herself to turn away, pushing open Caleb’s door. She falls against the paneled wood, pressing a hand over her dry mouth. 

A flutter of motion catches her eye, and she turns to see Veth, her wide eyes startled. A thin book snaps, and she scrambles from a nest of pillows on the floor. Jester glances back at the book half held behind her back - it looks oddly familiar. She shakes away the thought, kneeling to catch Veth in a tight hug.

“Hey Jester,” She says into her ear, her shrill voice rough from crying. 

Jester holds her tightly, their pounding hearts close. Veth squeezed her shoulders, and Jester remembered for the thousandth time that Veth is a mother, despite being so close to her own age. 

“Hi Veth. I would ask if you’re okay, but thats kind of stupid,” She says, getting a small laugh from Veth. 

“I’m doing as well as anyone” Veth says with a small smile, pulling away. 

“Where is everyone else?” Jester asks, standing back up and looking around the library, rubbing at her sore neck.

 It seemed to be empty, besides Veth, and the blood-spattered book that kept grabbing her attention. Veth shrugged, rubbing her hands together. 

“Caduceus is in the tower, praying. Last I saw Beau she was in the training room with Fjord. I think Yasha is with Caduceus. I...couldn’t sleep,” Veth says quickly. 

Jester gives her a smile, rolling her tight shoulders and heading to the kitchen. Veth stops her, grabbing her hand. 

“Jester,” She says, biting her lip. 

She stops, turning to look down at Veth. Her face is conflicted, deep brown eyes darting to the side before returning to her face. Jester tries to place her expression - remembering the look on Caleb’s open face after she took his hands. “I’ll tell you later,”  

Jester knew a secret when she saw one - she had been a secret since her birth. 

“Essek wants to see you. He came this morning and Beau took the door...it wasn’t pretty. He said to send a message if you wanted to see him -I think you should go. I don’t know if he should come back here though…” She says quietly. 

Jester sighs, rubbing her temple. She has a secret, Jester knows. But Veth has always been good at distractions. And Essek was an excellent distraction. 

Besides, secrets always come out eventually. 

She huffs, forcing a smile as she plants her hands on her hips. Veth raises her eyebrows, looking back at Caleb’s door. 

“I’ll stay with him. Don’t worry about Essek - you just focus on what you need to do. Do you still want to wait?” She asks suddenly, her face filling with nervous hope. 

Jester takes a deep breath, biting her bottom lip. 

“Yeah. I just need some time to get my head together, you know?” She says, giving a quick smile. 

Veth nods warily, turning and pressing Caleb’s door open with a soft creak. Veth pauses in the doorway, looking back to Jester with wary eyes. 

“Do you really think he will come back?” Veth whispers, gripping the door tightly. 

Jester feels her mind go blank, heart clenching at the thought - the corpse cold and unmoving before her, magic ebbing from her hands as the light leaves the room. She takes a few deep breaths, looking at the floor. 

“When the Traveler taught me the spell he said that...you have to ask them to come back. You have to convince them. Do you think that Caleb might not want to come back?” She asks softly, glancing up at Veth. 

Veth’s mouth trembles, leaning into the doorframe. She looks to the floor, loose hair falling across her face. 

“I don’t know. He’s...I don’t know Jester. He’s a good man but he wasn’t...he wasn’t always. There are things that he has told me that...” Veth trails off, her shoulders pulled tight.

Jester looks away, taking a deep breath. 

“Veth, is there something you want to tell me? Is there something I should know? For tonight?” Jester says softly.

Veth looks back to her, eyes wide with panic. Jester watches her grip something in her pockets, her face torn as she pushes her back against Caleb’s door. Her secret is heavy, pulling at her hands and heart like puppet strings. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” She stammers, waving her hands.

Jester walks forward quickly, reaching out to grab Veth’s wrist. She tries to twist away, but Jester’s grip is sure. 

“Veth, is there something I need to know?” She asks gently, ignoring the grunt of effort as Veth twists at her grip, giving up with a huff of frustration. 

Jester shakes her head, letting Veth go. Veth rubs at her wrist, eyes downcast. Silence hangs between them, and Jester hears his words echoing in her mind, voice ragged as he gestured with blackened hands. 

“Yes, I murdered those most dear to me,”

She had never asked, never wanted to see that look on his face again. The residuum had been so beautiful in her hands, until she glanced up at Caleb across from her. His hand running over the litany of silver scars that ran up and down his wiry arms. Caleb’s face pulled in fear as they surrounded him outside the temple, Trent’s foul leering as his old name fell like a rock at his feet. The silence in the cell as he spoke to the Scourger, his eyes cold and sure as Zemnian flowed smoothly from his clever mouth.

There is something I don’t know, she realizes, watching Veth with wide eyes.  

“I...I can’t say anything. I’m sorry Jester,” Veth says softly, disappearing back into the dark room.

Jester breathes heavily in the library, looking around at the scattered books and papers, alchemical solutions and symbol-scratched stones. She notes that the book is missing - Veth must have slid it back into her skirts. The silence presses on her, and she turns to the wall, knocking her head against the dark paneled wood.

She reaches into her bag, grabbing a stale donut and shoving it in her mouth, charging out of the dark mansion to Essek’s towers, magic settling over her form. She estimates that it is close to noon from the street traffic. She bites her tongue at the memory that arises, sad eyes with a dull spark of long-dead mischief - “It’s nine o’clock,”

She remembers laughing in surprise, looking back at him. Always in the back, their wizard was. He had smiled at her, and laughed when she filled the chamber with the cheerful pealing of clock-tower bells. flush of pride at the sound of his laugh, rusty and raw in the echoing tunnel. They played their game for hours, giggling at the shrill irritation in Nott’s voice as the day wore on. 

I want to make him laugh again, she thinks, arriving at Essek’s door. 

She knocks, sending a Message at the same time her fist raps the door in a staccato rhythm. 

“Hey Essek, it's me, Jester , you know. Open the door, because I’m here. You wanted to see me right, did Beau kick your -” She is interrupted by the door swinging open, the Shadowhand looking at her with wild eyes. 

“You came,” He whispers, and she smiles, dropping her disguise. 

“I did. Are you going to let me in?” She asks, stepping through the door as he steps asid, feet bare on the stone. 

He closes the door, and she puts down her hood. She follows him to the sitting room, a little tray of cookies waiting on the table. A sudden wave of sadness comes over her as she sees it. Did he bake them? Did he buy them with the Nein in mind? 

He sits across from her, and she feels her chest hitch. He looks miserable, deep circles under his eyes. His perfect hair mussed, in simple robes, finery forgotten. 

“You wanted to see me?” She asks softly, reaching out for a cookie. 

Essek nods weakly, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

“I did. I do. I...Jester, I’m...scared,” He says quietly, looking up at her. 

She feels a rush of pity for Essek - sitting alone in the dark with stale cookies, afraid of...what?

“Why?” She says, shoving a cookie in her mouth quickly. 

Lavender and lemon - a little too sour, but not bad. 

She achieves the desired result, and Essek laughs bitterly, gripping the sides of the table as he leans forward. Jester wipes the crumbs with her sleeve, reaching for Essek’s hands, a wave of deja vu rolling over her. He starts, his wide eyes boring into hers, mouth slack. His hands are just as beautiful as his face, the skin a smooth, dark purple. His fingers are long and clever, the nails beautifully manicured and painted a deep black. His lovely face is torn as she squeezes his hands, the fine bones of his face pulled tightly as he works his jaw, his hands limp in her grasp. 

They really are so similar, she thinks with a smile. 

“We’re going to get him back, Essek. I’m sure of it. You don’t have to be afraid,” She says gently, pushing down the spike of anxiety that threatens to wrap around her throat. 

It isn’t a lie, but saying it makes her heart race. Essek closes his eyes, and she feels him grip her hands tightly at last. 

“I’m not afraid that you can’t bring him back Jester. I’m…” Essek shakes his head, mouth in a tight line. 

He releases her hands, standing from the table suddenly.  

“I’m sorry Jester. I shouldn’t have gone to - you don’t need this and I -” He says quickly, and Jester squints her eyes, her hands empty on the table. 

“Essek, it's okay - we’re friends, you know. This is what friends do, they help each other,” She says, rising to her feet. 

Essek shakes his head quickly, and Jester feels something stir as she watches his face, the trembling of his hands, the tightness of his eyes. She moves closer, her mouth open slightly as she reaches up to brush a lock of hair out of Essek’s handsome face. A suspicion becomes a reality as she sees the raw longing in the depths of his pale eyes, bright against the sallow skin beneath. 

“You love him,” She says simply, the words filling the room like a scream. 

Essek watches her with horror, his handsome face stricken. His mouth twists, breath coming fast as he struggles to speak. 

“Essek, I - “ She whispers, her heart pounding in her ears. 

Essek loves Caleb - he loves him, he - 

She turns on her heel, opening the door and storming back to the Xhourhaus, not bothering with a disguise. She tears down the streets, ignoring the eyes on her as she nears their home. Her mind is racing faster than her legs can keep up, and the one thing she can’t get past is why. 

Why is she so shaken? He loves Caleb why does she want to scream? How often had she joked about it, suspected it, pushed and poked and - 

She skids in front of the Xhourhaus, pulling open  the door and slamming it shut, sliding down the wall. She fights back a sob, pressing a hand over her mouth. It was always a joke, wasn’t it, how the Shadowhand had a crush on him. 

She had teased him gleefully, fishing for the pink flush that would crawl up his pale throat. It was a joke, a silly joke to make him laugh, but he didn’t laugh. He just looked at her, bright eyes knowing, a crooked smile pulling at his sharp cheek as he looked at her. 

She squeezes her eyes tightly, looking at the chandelier - the ridiculous, huge chandelier. She wonders dimly how much it cost, and winces to remember - Zadash, Caleb staring at her with cold anger and hurt, smearing mud down his clean face. 

She hugs her knees, pressing her head against them. Maybe Veth was right - maybe waiting was a bad idea. She looks up at the clock - a few hours until sunset. 

She stands on shaky legs, meeting no one else as she climbs the steps of Caducues’s tower. She takes a deep breath as she takes in the globe lit garden, the lush green bright against the dark stone and eternal twilight of the sky. 

Caduceus turned towards her, eyebrows raised as he took her in. She gave him a broken smile, and he sighed, walking over to give her a tight hug. She hiccuped into his chest, his rumbling voice soothing as he held her. 

“There you are. We were getting worried,” He says quietly, and she feels a rush of embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry Caduceus, I went to see Essek and…” She says, feeling Caduceus gently sway her. 

“It's okay. I’ll let Beau know, she’s a little...unstable right now,” Caduceus says smoothly, and Jester feels a wave of hysteria tug at her. 

“Yeah. I’m sure she is,” Jester says, stepping away and wiping her eyes. 

Her head is still ringing with Essek’s words, the panic in his eyes. She leans forward, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. 

“I don’t know how I’m going to make it to sunset,” She says with a nervous laugh. 

Caduceus chuckles, patting her shoulder. 

“Stay here for a while if you want,” He says softly, standing and walking toward the door. 

“I’ll bring your dinner, the others will be good and quiet.” 

She thanks him, watching the door for a moment after he leaves. She pulls the haversack open, digging for her sketchbook. She flips past the most recent sketch, drawing her finger along the lines. She takes a  deep breath and leans against the wall, setting her supplies out in front of her. Her hand grows steady as she begins to sketch, the work taking her. 

She doesn't feel the time pass until hours later, when Caduceus comes up with dinner. Her stomach rumbles at the smell of the food before she sees him, turning quickly as he taps her on the shoulder. She tears her eyes from the paper, eyes wide as she looks at Caduceus. He gives her a warm smile, setting the food down before crossing his legs on the ground in front of her. She thanks him and eats quickly.

“Are you ready?” He asks, and she takes a deep breath, setting her bowl aside.

She closes her eyes, reaching for the Traveler. She feels a pulse of energy as she grips her holy symbol, and she smiles at the warm press of invisible lips to her temple. 

She imagines Caleb, his face serene as he floated in the ocean, his pale skin pink and warm in the Nicodranas sun. Laughing at her sending spells in a filthy tavern. Looking away from her as he unwrapped his arms in the dark. The way he looked at her, when he thought she couldn’t see. 

“I’ll tell you later,”

I know a secret when I see one.

“You know? I think I am,” She says. Caduceus gives her a smile, wide and true. 

They start down the stairs, Caduceus ahead, she tries to center herself as they head down.

“I cleaned him up a bit,” He says, and she almost misses a step.

“The vines and clothes are gone, and I gave him a sheet,” He continues, voice placid and low, “But he’ll need a bath right after. I would have bathed the body but he is very fragile.” 

Jester exhales deeply, following him into the library and into Caleb’s room. 

The bed has been pushed away from the wall, with room to stand around it. Jester fights the rising panic that threatens her at the sight of the sheet covered body on the bed. Veth sits on the bed beside the body, tossing something to the nightstand as she sees the door open. Jester runs forward, reaching out to hug her, the halfling woman squeezing her tightly. 

“Jester, I was so worried about you -” Veth says, her voice rough as she pulls away. 

Jester notices that her eyes are red, and an oddly familiar book beside the bed. She shakes away the thought, letting Veth go with a reassuring smile. 

“I’m okay, I just needed to think. I’m okay, Veth,” She says, Veth’s eyes are tight on hers as she moves to scramble off the bed, but if she doesn’t believe her she doesn’t say. 

“Are you ready?” Veth asks quietly, her voice rough, a hand gripping the bed frame. 

Jester nods, watching as the rest of them enter the room, Fjord and Beau looking at her with uneasy eyes, Yasha is calm as she looks at the body, bright eyes dimmed. Caduceus stands close in the corner, staff in hand. She meets his eye, feeling the silence descend as her friends look to her. 

She walks back to the body, standing behind him. She reaches into her pocket for the diamond, placing it over his heart, the massive gem refracting on the white sheet. She looks at her friends, their faces trusting. Caduceus gives her a reassuring smile, and she reaches into her haversack, setting out the candles silently around the room. She sets her incense beside the bed, and she pauses, looking to her family before she scratches the match, the sound sending a shiver down her spine in the silent room. 

“Stand around him, and get ready,” She says, her voice sounding far away as she begins to light the candles, once by one. 

The room grows silent, the scratch of each match sending a line of energy down her spine. She shivers as she feels the magic begin to pool in her hands, waiting. The incense curls into the air, the grey smoke shifting to pale green. She drops the last match, cupping Caleb’s mangled face with her cool palms. She extends her will, reaching for the power within her, calling for her indulgent, reluctant god. 

She takes a deep breath, feeling the Travelers hands on her shoulders. A warm glow suffuses her, spreading vine-like from her hands to the diamond, the rock beginning to glow dimly. 

She closes her eyes, reaching for Caleb. She feels her energy stretch beyond her body, beyond the planes, and it’s almost like using the Beacon. She flies through darkness, bright light and burning stars passing by her face in a blur. She surrenders to the flow, feeling Artagan’s steady hands on her shoulders suddenly pull to the right. 

She smells dry grass, and opens her eyes to a dark grey sky. She whips her head around, seeing only waving, golden grass, until Artagan grips her tighter, turning her head in his long, slender hands. She squints - there is a figure ahead, thin and pale, alone against the swaying grass.

“Caleb,” She breathes, as a man with long red hair turns, bright blue eyes meeting her own. 

A jolt of energy pulses down her spine, and she feels a wave of relief crash through her. The vision is torn away, and she opens her eyes to her friends staring, mouths slack and hands outstretched. 

She pants, catching her breath, gripping Caleb’s cold face.

“I saw him,” She says, looking across to Veth, her knuckles white as they grip the sheet. 

“ I saw him ,” She repeats to herself, smiling. 

Veth sobs a little, her eyes wet. Jester looks around, the rest of her friends on the edge, eyes huge in their faces as they look from her to the slightly glowing diamond. Caduceus gives her an encouraging smile, and Beau looks at the body cautiously.

“Who...who wants to go first?”Jester says, her hands warm against his cool flesh.

“I need to go last so I can focus on the spell,” She says quietly. 

“I’ll go,” Veth says decisively, reaching her hand under the sheet and holding his hand, wincing slightly as she grips the broken bones. 

“Caleb...you know what I’m going to say. You’re so smart but you’re also...you’re so kind. You’ve always supported me, even when I was an actual monster,” She says, her voice warbling as she grips his broken hand tighter. 

“You saved me, in so many ways Caleb. You saved my family and...you helped me find more to life. You helped me learn that I was more than I ever thought I could be. I want the same for you, Caleb. You are so powerful, and so good . I love you so much. Please come back.” She whispers, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to the bed.

There is a moment of silence before Jester feels the magic pulse, the diamond glowing brighter over his heart. Jester closes her eyes, reaching again - the figure is fuzzy now, the landscape gone, but she can feel his attention, intense and bright, like a new scroll to be studied and taken apart, rune by rune.  

Jester opens her eyes, looking to her right. Beau meets her gaze, the monk’s wet eyes closing as she bites her lip, kneeling to the side of the bed and taking his other hand in her own. 

“This fucking sucks Caleb. I told you a long time ago not to leave, and you didn’t. You told me the same thing. I didn’t. I didn’t give you permission to leave, Widogast. I have a little brother but...you’re my big brother, Caleb. You always were. And you need to be here, so I can call you on your shit and you can play dumb jokes on Fjord and…” She says, her rough voice breaking as she grits her teeth. 

“Come back, Caleb. You’re not done,” She says simply, lowering her head as the diamond begins to float above his heart. 

Jester feels Caleb’s energy pulse in her mind, the figure looking straight at her, the Traveler’s grip tight. She forces her eyes open, vertigo twisting her stomach as she returns to the room. Jester looks across at Fjord and Yasha. The two trade a look, Yasha coming forward and placing a hand on his ankle. 

“You have always been so nice to me, Caleb. Even when I feel terrible you are always there. I know that you are in pain - we are too. But if you come back, we can help each other,” She says softly, patting at the sheet. 

“You taught me that. I know you see her. It’s not too late, Caleb.” She whispers.

Jester gasps as the body beneath her begins to levitate, the sheet pulled a few inches into the air. The figure is coming towards her - a flash of blue crosses her vision, the diamond beginning to spin slowly. The smell of dry firewood, of fresh ash, of crushed golden grass clinging to her skirts. Her hands begin to shake as she presses them to his jaw, magic humming in her hands.

Fjord shakes his head, placing a hand on his other ankle. 

“You and I - we’ve grown so much, Caleb. Beau is right - you aren’t done. We need you here Caleb - I’m certianly too stupid to do this without you, I can’t speak for the others.” Fjord says with a smile, ignoring the half-hearted jab to the ribs from Beau. 

Jester laughs as Caleb's spirit flashes, the body rising as the diamond turns faster. The green glow alights their faces, painting their drawn expressions in bright light and shadow. She keeps her hands on his face, the body still cool as blistering energy swirls around her palms. 

Caduceus leans over the body, pressing a palm to Caleb’s forehead with a peaceful smile. 

“Hello Mr. Caleb. I think you’ve heard almost enough but you should know - you’re worthy, Caleb. Of all of it. Your life is just beginning, if you can believe it. The Wildmother doesn't intervene without reason. You’re supposed to be here.” He says quietly, the body rising as he removes his palm.

Jester closes her eyes once more - magic is racing through her veins, and she works desperately to contain it. She feels lighting in her chest as Artagan’s hands cover her eyes, and the figure comes into focus once more. It feels like his soul is right in front of her, because it is, it is and she - 

She reaches forward, her hands are not her hands but they reach for him, and they touch a storm, dry air crackling with electricity, the golden fields now streaked with distant plumes of roaring flame. Bright blue eyes stare into her own, and she walks forward, her hands grasping his. 

She rips her eyes open, pressing her hands to cup his face as she bends over him. She lowers her lips to his ear as she had before, the magic roaring in her ears as her glowing hands hold his ruined face. 

“Please come back Caleb. I think...I think I know. And even if I don’t, I’m not afraid. It doesn’t matter what you did - it’s not who you are. You are...you are funny , and kind, and you always support my stupid ideas. We need you here, Caleb.You’ve never given us, given me, anything but love. We love you. I love you,” She says, pressing a kiss to his forehead and closing her eyes.  

His eyes are searing into hers as flames grow around them, and she reaches for him again, the flames licking greedlily up her arms. His face twists in misery as the flame begins to take her, and the heat is like nothing she has ever felt, consuming and hungry but...warm - comforting. 

She gasps as a drop of rain falls, steam hissing as it touches her burning unflesh, the flames disappearing.

She looks to Caleb, his jaw slack as she smiles, the heavy clouds drenching them in cool relief. He pulls her close, red hair plastered to his skull, clever mouth silent. She holds him, his soul still burning against hers, the inferno quelled to a glowing ember. She pressed greedily into his warmth for a moment, stepping back to cup his face, smoke and steam rolling off her blue skin. He looked at her with wonder, reaching for her cheek with a steady hand, his calloused thumb arching across her cheek.

“Come home ,” She whispers, closing her eyes and reaching. 

The Traveler pulls at her eyes, and she feels herself fly through darkness once more, a bright light following her until she is pushed away, gasping as she wakes to the room around her, friends watching as the body rises higher, the swirling diamond a glittering blur over his heart. 

The glow becomes a blinding light as the room fills with the familiar crash of an exploding diamond. Jester feels the magic throttle through her as the light begins to fade, the body sinking back to the bed. Jester crumples as the magic leaves her, her knees hitting the floor. 

Beau scrambles to help Jester to her feet, and Jester throws herself forward, her hands pressing on Caleb’s heart where the diamond had shattered. Her breath is loud in her ears for an aching moment as they watch the body, still under her palm.

Caleb’s back arches off the bed as breath returns to his body, the mouth opening in a choked scream under the sheet as the room fills with the sickening cracks and pops of his bones resetting, the body jerking. 

Jester presses her hands gently to his face, wincing at the crunch of bone beneath her hands as she pours a healing spell into him. Adrenaline screams in her veins as Fjord and Yasha scramble forward, Laying on Hands as Caduceus joins them, Caleb’s body aglow with divine magic.

He stills, his mouth still open as he gasps for breath. Jester leans over him, slowly pulling the sheet down from his face. His eyes are open wide as they meet hers, his bare shoulders heaving. She feels her mouth break into a smile, tears running down her face as she ghosts her hands over the delicate high bones of his cheeks, his temple, his open jaw. He holds her gaze, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Jester,” He breathes, and he is a mess , still covered in blood, long hair matted to his skull. She just grins at him, watching the color return to his bone white skin.

“Hi,” She says simply, fingers gripping his face, his cold cheeks slowly filling with warm blood beneath her hands. 

“I heard you - I heard all of you.” He whispers hoarsely. 

She presses her forehead to his, inhaling deeply. He smells like death, but she’ll take it. 

“You stink,” She whispers in his ear, feeling her heart flip as he laughs weakly, a crooked grin on his panting mouth.

She lifts herself away, smiling as his eyes follow her before looking around himself, the Nein gathered close. 

He looks from face to face, trying and failing to lift his hand to Veth. She shakes her head, reaching gingerly for his hand and wrapping it around hers. 

They stare at him for a moment before his eyes roll back, passing out. Veth screams, but Caduceus just pats her head, pulling down the sheet to show the rise and fall of Caleb’s chest. 

His skin is bone white, the flush returning slowly. His torso and arms are covered in pale pink and white scars, and she recognizes some of their battles along with the litany of slashes up and down his ropy arms. He is still thin, but not the waif that she first saw in the bathhouse all those months ago. Steady food and adventuring has filled him out a bit, rounding out some of the sharp angles of bone beneath skin. She resists the urge to place her hand over his heart once more, to feel the thrumming promise of life under his pale skin. 

“He’s okay, Veth. He’s going to need to rest for a few days, but he’s here.” Caduceus says in a comforting rumble. 

Veth nods absently, gripping Caleb’s hand tightly as she watches him breathe. Beau walks over and wraps Jester in a tight hug, Jester gripping her back tightly. Beau buries her face in her hair, giving her another squeeze as she sways them side to side. Jester squeezes her tightly, her sore muscles aching in protest.

“Thank you, Jester.” She says into her hair. 

Jester pats her back before pushing away, smiling at Beau. They look back to Caleb, watching him breathe, his face slack and mouth open.

“Of course, Beau. I’m just...I’m just so happy he came back.” She breathes, still in shock, her body aching from the magic. 

Caduceus presses a hand to Caleb’s forehead, smiling softly. 

“He’s stable. He needs a few days of rest, but he’s good. Good enough for a bath,” He says, letting his hand fall back and rest on Caleb’s neck, feeling the pulse thrum.

Jester feels her body sag in relief, patting Beau’s back and walking on shaking legs to sit on the side of the bed, watching the rise and fall of his thin chest. She reaches out to brush his hair back from his slack face, wrinkling her nose at the dried blood that flakes away.  

“I’ll leave that to you, Caduceus.” 

The firbolg shrugs his shoulders, reaching out and placing an arm on Yasha’s, who is standing next to Fjord watching Caleb. Yasha jumps at the contact, nodding and looking away from Caleb to Caduceus. 

“Can you pick him up for me? He needs to get cleaned up and the hot tub is a little far,” He says, giving her arm a brief squeeze before grabbing his staff and leaving the room. 

Yasha nods shakily, rising from her knees. Jester runs her thumb across Caleb’s cheekbone, smiling as he murmurs some Zemnian in his sleep. She smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to a semi -clean part of his temple before rising and making room for Yasha. She watches as Yasha tucks the sheet around him, before bending and scooping Caleb against her chest, following Caduceus out the door. 

Jester feels Veth walk over and hug her waist, and the last thing she sees before she passes out is the dried blood on the bedspread, black and flaking. 

Chapter Text

His vision is white. 

He reels from his body, hears the sick cracks and snaps of his bones, the wet squelch of his flesh knitting together excruciating as a choked scream escapes his throat, the sound raw through his dry chest.

His back arches off the mattress, and he feels gentle pressure on his flesh, the familiar warm rush of divine healing flowing through his bruised veins. Hands, cool and strong, press on his face. He gasps as he reels at the sensations. 

A small voice from his training reminds him that he is going into shock. 

The hands leave, and his spine goes slack, gasping at the dull pain that roils through him, cut with soul deep exhaustion. The bright white slips away, and he realizes it is a sheet. Cool air greets his bare skin, and he gasps for breath as his room spins around him. The hands return, cold and trembling, and he forces his gaze up, looking with Jester once more. He tries to focus on her eyes, fighting the vertigo.

Her smile breaks like the dawn, and he feels his soul settle fully into his flesh as she looks at him, tears falling from her red rimmed violet eyes. The room stills, and he feels a dull numb bloom across his body as more healing stitches him together, the touch of others warm on his chilled flesh, his ruined body remade. She ghosts her fingers over his face, grounding and electric. He stares at her dumbly, the memory of her sparking soul echoed in her eyes.

“Jester,” He breathes, the sound ragged in his chest. 

Her answering grin is like a cool rain, her grip tightening on his face. 

“Hi,” She responds, her voice quiet. 

He searches her face, his breath steadying as she rubs her thumb along his jaw. 

“I heard you,” He whispers, the touch of her burning soul seared into his memory. 

He reaches for the rest, and he fights a sob of relief as his parents' faces return at his call, etched in his perfect, terrible memory. 

He reels against the whiplash, gasping as she leans forward, pressing her cool forehead to his. He shivers as her hair falls into his face, tickling at his sore skin. Her smell fills his lungs, cinnamon sweet with incense and sweat. She smiles against his shoulder, her breath warm on his neck. She pulls back, an exhausted smile on her face. Her mouth twists for a moment, and he could never love her more, he could never fall for another. Her tired eyes tighten, and she presses her lips together as she stifles a nervous giggle. 

“...you stink.” She responds, mischief sparkling in her weary face. 

He laughs, wincing at the pain as his muscles clench. He forces himself to look away from her, glancing down to Veth, her strong hands tight around his. He tries to give her a smile, her face crumpling in relief. He looks at all of them - Beau holds his other hand, a brittle smile on her face. Fjord gives him a wide grin, and Yasha watches him with a relieved expression. Caduceus places a hand on his shoulder, and Caleb tries to move to look up, the motion exhausting. 

“I heard all of you,” He says, trying to squeeze Veth’s hand. 

Veth gives a small sob, and he leans towards her. He feels his muscles scream, and darkness takes his vision, the voices of his friends far away. 

He clings to consciousness, focusing on breathing, his pain far away. Veth screams, and he feels cool air on his skin as they move the sheet. He dully realizes that he is naked, but that makes sense - they’re saying something about a bath. Jester’s hands are steady on his face, and he dimly hears Caduceus, feels the warm press of his wide palm. Jester’s thumb arcs across his cheekbone, and he exhales at the sensation, letting a longing whisper escape.

“Danke, mein Liebe,”

Then he feels cool lips at his temple, before her hands leave. The darkness presses harder, and he surrenders, safe in the care of his family. 

He wakes to a rocking sensation, fighting to open his eyes. The stone walls of the Xhorhaus greet him, and he feels Yasha’s strong grip as she carries him down the hall. Caduceus looks back and smiles as they walk, pushing open the tower door. 

“Hello Mr. Caleb. We’re gonna get you cleaned up and back to rest, alright?” He says softly, his voice resonant in the stone chamber. 

Caleb nods weakly as Yasha lowers him into the water, exhaling at the comforting warmth of the hot tub. The water is scented, the smell calming as he feels Caduceus peel away the sheet, careful hands washing him methodically. Like a corpse , he thinks, wondering how many bodies he has washed before. Yasha holds his head steady at the edge of the tub, her massive hands cradling his skull. 

His head lolls forward as she pushes him up, and he squints his eyes open as Caduceus pats his shoulder. 

“Time to wash your hair, just lean back for me okay?” He says gently. 

Caleb groans, closing his eyes once more. Yasha supports his back with one hand, reaching around to hold his head, threading her fingers through his hair to keep him steady. 

“Its okay to fall asleep, Caleb. You’re not going anywhere,” He hears Caduceus say. 

He takes a deep breath, a deluge of warm water falling across his head. Caduceus holds the water from his face with a hand across his forehead, and a flash of memory, his mother smiling as she washes his hair, holding the water from his eyes. He floats away for a few moments, losing himself in the sensations of warm hands, water cleansing and holding him aloft. He still feels a little off, and wonders for the first time how long he was gone. His clock is...silent. Caducues’s voice brings him back, his eyes cracking open to see the crystal water of the tub rusty and dark. 

“Alright Caleb, let’s get you back to bed,” He says, nodding to Yasha. 

She picks him up effortlessly, holding him out from her body as Caduceus towels him dry. He squeezes his eyes tight at the loss of the warm water, air cold against his skin. They wrap a warm blanket around him, Yasha moving her arms to fully encase. He sighs into Yasha’s chest as she adjusts him, catching a small smile on the barbarian’s face as he lets the darkness take him again, sagging into her arms. 

“We’ve got you Caleb,” She says softly, her kind voice a soft rumble against him.

He hears murmured voices, and he forces his eyes open as Yasha sets him down. He is back in his room - the smell of Jester’s incense still hangs in the air. Yasha tucks him in with a soft smile, taking a blanket from the floor and draping him. The weight is comforting, and he resists the urge to sink into sleep, looking around the room. 

Beau and Jester are gone, Fjord and Veth remaining as Yasha leans in the door, watching him with a pensive expression. Fjord sits beside Veth, chairs pushed together. They are looking at him, faces relieved and concerned. Veth leans forward, cupping Caleb’s cheek. 

“You need to sleep, Caleb.” She says, her eyes warm.  

He nods against her hand, shivering as the shock works its way through his system. Veth bites her lip, turning to Fjord and whispering something. Fjord rummages through his pack, presenting a vial to Veth. She pops the cork with a pocketknife before holding it to Caleb’s lips, tilting it back. He thinks of Una, her steady hand holding the medicine spoon to his mouth. 

He swallows, the familiar taste of a healing potion blooming warmth through him. He feels his muscles relax, the pain giving way to exhaustion. Veth pats his cheek and gives him a soft smile, her eyes still damp with tears. He squeezes her hand weakly, holding her dark gaze.

“I’m sorry, Veth,” He says, his voice thick with sleep. 

She shakes her head, her steady hand brushing through his damp hair. Her skin is so soft now, and the short nails she has grown scratch gently against his scalp. He sighs into the touch, safe in her eyes as she releases him, leaning to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Caleb, don’t you dare. It wasn’t your fault. You did your job, Caleb. We asked for you back, and you...you came back. Just...try a little harder not to die, okay sweetie?” She says, her reedy voice rough as she sits back, patting his hands.

Fjord reaches forward and lays a hand on his knee gently, careful not to press. His yellow eyes are kind, and Caleb wants to laugh, remembering a time when those eyes caused him fear and suspicion. Now they were warm, almost golden, a safe place to land. A kind man, if a man of learned kindness. An actor, in some ways, swaggering and soft all at once. 

“We’re keeping watch, Caleb. Sleep.” He says, summoning the Star Razor to rest on his lap. Caleb leans his head back with a small grin, sleep tugging at him. 

“As long as you don’t hold that to my throat,” He responds, his voice rough as he grinned weakly at him.

Fjord starts with surprise and laughs hard as Veth starts to poke him in the side. He scoots his chair as he giggles, trying to wave the halfling away. The last thing he sees as he closes his eyes is Veth slapping at Fjord, their brave Captain wincing and wheezing with laughter as she clawed at him, her face alight with a mother’s fury.

He wakes to the soft squeak of the door, turning his head in the dark. He blinks against the light of the lantern that Beau carries as she enters the room. She looks at him with tired eyes, settling the lantern on his bedside table, along with a tray of food. She closes the door softly, settling into the chair beside Caleb. 

They regard each other for a moment, Beau setting her elbows on her knees, her eyes pressing into him. He tried to keep her gaze, lowering his eyes as it became too much. 

“You need to eat,” She says into the silence, standing. 

He winces at the scrape of the chair, rolling his neck. He is still aching, but the pain has ebbed. He feels as though he could sleep for a year, exhaustion pulling at him. Beau watches him struggle for a moment, rolling her eyes as she worms her hands under his shoulders, lifting him. 

“You are a rough nurse, Beauregard,” He says with a huff, his head falling forward. 

His hair is still damp, slicked back across his shoulders. Beau gives him a tight smile, unfolding the tray and placing it over his lap, patting him on the shoulder. 

“Well, I haven’t had to learn. Until now I guess,” She says, sitting into the chair and tipping it. 

He glances at the meal - fragrant soup curls into the air, with soft bread and fruit and a jug of what he hopes is water. He feels his stomach grumble, and gratefully begins to eat. Beau watches him for a moment, lowering the chair and linking her hands together in her lap, leaning on her elbows once more.

“Caleb?” She says quietly. He gives her a nod, tearing at the bread. 

“Do you know what happened?” She asks, her knuckles white in her grip. Caleb shrugs, watching as her face softens slightly. 

“Yes and no. I remember the cave in, I heard it. I heard Jester and Veth scream and…” He trails off, his mouth suddenly dry. 

He grips the jug, and gasps after chugging the cool water, the sensation biting at his dry throat. He wipes his mouth, turning back to Beau. 

“And then what?” Beau asks, her face open. 

Caleb feels his chest clench, and he stares at the tray of food. He had tried to cling to consciousness, terrified of losing the memory. But it was clear, just like any other. His mother’s face was still crystalline, the feel of his father’s wide palm clapped against his shoulder. Every loving word, every drop of forgiveness freely poured on his soaking soul.

“I...I don’t know if I am ready to talk about that, Beauregard.” He says, watching as she leans forward. 

“So something happened?” She asks, her voice kind but curious. 

He nods, tearing off another chunk of bread. He considers complimenting her - he has rarely seen her this...calm. Polite, even. He feels a strange swell of pride in his chest, and secretly hopes that her demeanor will not last for long.

“I will...I will tell you. Eventually,” He says quietly. 

She purses her lips, patting his knee. 

“You don’t have to. I was just being an asshole,” She says, rolling her eyes as her mouth twists. 

Caleb feels a spike of guilt, and he reaches over for her hand. She lets him take it, and he grips her strong fingers. Her skin is warm against his, the soft brown striking against his pale skin. 

“You are not. I mean, you are , and so am I , but you are not being an asshole right now, ” He says softly. 

She huffed and shook her head, looking at their hands. She slips her hand away, but gives him a grateful smile. 

“I’m sure you want to know what happened,” She says, leaning back and crossing her arms, her shoulders a little less tight than before. 

He sets down the bread, looking at her. 

“I do. I can pretend that I just fell asleep but my...body tells me otherwise.” He says, returning to his meal.

Beau huffs, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Well, you sure as shit didn’t fall asleep,” She says, scrubbing a hand across her face before taking a deep breath, popping her feet up on the bed. 

He watches the politeness fall away as she relaxes a bit, her bare calloused feet twitching slightly beside him. She watches him carefully before glancing away, like she is making sure he is still there.

“You were buried in that cave in. Completely. About fifteen to twenty feet deep in massive rubble.They had a few ideas but we were almost tapped. We had to get you out - we couldn’t sleep there, didn’t want to risk it. Better to get you back here and do it safely than get someone else killed. 

Caduceus came in clutch man. He talked to the Wildmother and she...she lifted the rocks away. It was incredible, everything was fucking green and glowing and shit. It was a straight up miracle.

We went under and Caduceus cast that spell that he used on Fjord. Remember?” She asks, glancing up from her hands. 

He thinks for a moment, remembering the flash of wriggling vines in the punishing rain, wrapping around Fjord’s mangled corpse. 

“Ja,” He manages, lifting the soup to his mouth and wincing at the pull in his abdomen. 

“Of course you do. Whatever. He cast it on you, and the vines wrapped all the way around, like a shroud. Shit was creepy, but real fucking convinient. Like, I love you man but I did not want to see Caleb soup. 

Then Jester picked you up, and we ran out. The rocks crashed back when we were out, but we made it. After that…” She trails off, and Caleb imagines the scene, the bizarre thought of being wrapped completely - a cold corpse in Jester’s strong arms. 

“Jester messaged Essek, and we made it out. He was waiting for us, and took us here. We got you home but, ah -” She says with a grin, shaking her head. 

“Then Fjord and I had to go talk to the fucking Bright Queen,” She says with a laugh, waving her hand in the air before pointing at him. 

“And find out that you are definitely the favorite. So, you’ve got that going for you,” She says with a fond smile on her face. 

He sets down the bowl, leaning back against the pillows.

“Who carried me out?”

Beau stirred, her brows knitting.

“I told you, Jester.”

“The whole way?”

Beau sighed, rubbing at her neck

“Yeah. We tried to let Yasha take you but she was too stubborn. Between that and the spell its not a surprise she passed out,” 

Caleb blinked at her, leaning forward and hissing at the sudden pain.

“When you say passed out, is this like, a idiom in Common or -”

Beau rolled her eyes, waving a hand. 

“She's fine. I carried her upstairs and she's been asleep for a few hours. But yeah, after you all left she slumped right to the floor. ”

Caleb blinked and leaned back, Beau sighs, glancing back at the door, wrapping her hands together in her lap. A cold corpse, held close in her arms. How long had she held him? How long had it been since he had breathed again? He took a deep breath, tearing at the bread once more as he tried to focus, his mind whirling. 

“When we got back, we all slept in here. Essek came around in the morning, but I opened the door so he didn’t get what he wanted,” She says with a twisted frown. 

Caleb watches her curiously, her foot twitching on the bed. 

“What did he want, Beauregard?” He asks.

“I don’t even know. I just...I was an asshole. I know he was our friend but I...I can’t trust him anymore. I’m a damn Expositor, it's my job to fucking expose ...whatever. This isn’t about that,” She says quickly, waving her hands dismissively before wrapping them behind her head once more. 

“Jester went and talked to him yesterday, but I don’t know what they talked about. She was upset when she came back, so we left her alone, and then she came down when we cast the spell,” She says, leaning down to grab a pillow and stuffing it behind Caleb so he can sit up. He takes it, wriggling up to face her, grimacing at the effort the small movement takes. 

“Caduceus took away the vines and cut off your clothes, so we could bathe you right after. Veth and Jester said they would take care of them, I think Jester is going to mend them. This should be all of it,” She says, leaning down and pulling up his book holsters and bag and placing them on the nightstand. Beside it she sets down a small cloth sack. 

“Your coat had to be cut off, but Caduceus folded it in that bag with all your components. Jester wants to mend it but there was a LOT of fuckin’ blood,” She says, streching her arms behind her head once more.

Caleb chuckles, stomach warm and full. 

“Thank you, Beauregard. I don’t think I’ll be doing much casting for a little while,” 

Beau gives him a small smile, dropping her feet and leaning forward. She takes the tray and sets it on the floor beside her before sitting back down, hands on her knees.

“I fucking hope not. That...that sucked Caleb. Don’t do that again,” She says softly, her deep voice rough. 

Caleb feels his chest ache, reaching a hand out to hold hers. She doesn’t break from his weak grip, winding their fingers together.

“I will do my best, Beauregard. I assure you, it wasn’t fun.” He says, watching her face fall.

“I’m sorry, I know you...you fucking died . I bet you feel like shit,” She sighs, rubbing her eyes and leaning down to grab the tray, rising to leave. Caleb watches her, wanting to protest but feeling sleep tug at him once more.

“I’m sorry, Beau. I didn’t...I’m sorry.” 

He says simply, wincing at the vision of his family staring at a pile of rubble, his corpse beneath. She nods, opening the door and pausing to darken the lantern, now emitting a dull glow. 

“Me too. It’s okay. It’ll...it’ll be okay. Get some sleep, Caleb.” She says gently, slipping through the door. 

Caleb sighs into the pillows, turning his head away from the door and to the wall, surrendering to the grasping claws of sleep. 

Chapter Text

Yasha woke slowly, a field of flowers greeting her. 

She smiled softly as she traced a calloused finger along the petals of a rose, her sharp eyes finding the curving lines in the dim light. She rose and dressed, deciding against full armor for the day. The house was still watched after all, and her family was more than capable of tackling any issues that could arise. 

Well, most of them. 

The sick snapping and grinding of his flesh knitting itself back together under her hands was still fresh. He was so light in her arms, his brittle body so cold and fragile. 

She shook her head as she pushed the door open, padding heavily down the steps. Light spilled from the kitchen, and she could hear muffled voices. She gingerly opened the door, greeted by the tired smile of Fjord as he looked up from a plate of food. Caduceus gave her a wave from where he was stirring something on the stove, the fragrant smell causing her stomach to growl. She sat at the table by Fjord, taking the plate of food he handed her gratefully. 

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the soft sounds of cooking and Caduceus’s peaceful humming welcome after the chaos. She finished eating quickly, dropping her plate in the sink. She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms and taking a deep breath. She was restless, unsettled. 

“Fjord, have you seen Beau today?” 

Fjord nodded as he drank deeply from his coffee, his long hair loose around his shoulders. 

“Training room. Said she needed to punch something and I didn’t feel like volunteering today,” He said with a wry smile.

Yasha smiled, heading for the door. 

“Thank you Fjord,”

He gave her a tired smile, glancing over to Caduceus and gratefully letting him refill his mug. 

She made her way through the dark home. She could hear the dull thud of punches hitting a bag even through the door. She pushed it open, her eyes growing wide as she watched Beau kick a back in a spin, her tight body flying through the air as her feet landed expertly at the top of the bag, seven feet in the air. 

She stilled as Yasha opened the door, her chest heaving as she met her eyes. Her hair was tied back tightly, but a few long strands stuck to her sweat drenched face. Yasha smiled, letting the door fall closed behind her. 

“I...I asked Fjord where you were. He said you needed to punch something, and I…” 

Beau grinned, shaking the damp locks out of her face as she rose from her coiled stance. 

“Caleb?” She said simply, her breath choppy.

“Yeah. I…”

Beau grinned and threw a playful punch, missing Yasha’s face by inches.

“Wanna fight about it?” She said simply, her bright eyes sparkling.

Yasha felt her shoulders fall gratefully, and she smiled as she set her feet wide. 

“Please.” 

They sparred until they could barely breathe, and then farther, sweat pooling down their faces as they bruised and scraped, grunting and yelling in the echoing stone room. Beau was faster and sharper - Yasha was bigger and stronger. They were well matched, the fight dragging until Beau tripped her and fell to the floor beside her, the two women taking huge, gulping breaths as they stared at the ceiling. 

For a few minutes they merely caught their breath. Yasha’s muscles ached sweetly, the satisfaction of moving, of using her body. Her mind was blissfully clear, fixated on delivering air to her starved lungs, her pounding heart. 

“Thank you,” Yasha managed, her voice rough. 

Beau waved a weak hand in the air, coughing weakly.

“Thank you. I needed that,” She said, her hand falling over her bare abdomen as she clutched her stomach.

 Yasha turned her head to look at Beau, the other woman watching her with fond eyes. 

“So Caleb hunh? That was...that was fucked up,” She said, a crooked smile on her mouth.

Yasha nodded weakly.

“I have seen a lot of bad things. But that was new. Did you go see him?”

Beau gave a quick nod as she took another deep breath, raising her arms over her head.

“I did, about an hour after you and Cad put him to bed. He’s okay, just a little shaken up. Which...obviously. But he ate, and drank, and talked. Something... something happened. He went somewhere. Not bad, I think. But its…” She groaned in frustration, throwing an arm over her eyes as she looked at Yasha.

“It’s irritating me, not knowing. But he just fucking died so I can’t exactly bust his balls about it,” Beau laughed harshly, letting her arm fall to her side. 

“I told him what happened, all of it. He took it pretty well. He seemed worried about Jester though,” Beau said, her mouth twisting. 

Yasha hummed, remembering. He seemed so fragile, like glass in her arms as she cradled him. 

“She’s still asleep, I think. She looked exhausted. I can’t imagine what it’s like to bring someone back like that. Do you think she saw something?” 

Beau nodded, her eyes far away as her mouth set in a tight line. Yasha could see the loops her mind was running, pulling connections and conclusions from scattered details. Yasha wondered what it would be like to have a mind like that, a mind that never rested or ceased. Like a dog, hunting for truth undaunted. Yasha glanced to her tiara, glinting dully beneath her tightly pulled hair. 

“I do. There's no way - she was talking to him. Really talking - wherever he went, I think she saw it.”

Yasha hummed, feeling her chest relax as she finally caught her breath. She thought back to that night, Caleb’s face blank with fear in the amber light of the dying fire. 

“I don’t need to tell you who,”

She glanced to Beau, her eyes still distant as she thought. 

“He worries about her,” She said simply, watching as Beau blinked and looked back to Yasha. 

Beau gave her a gentle smile, her blue eyes soft. 

“I think we all do.”

Yasha smiled, her heart fluttering at the fondness in Beau’s eyes. It was easier now, when they were both exhausted. The butterflies in her chest flapped their wings slowly, her words coming easier. 

“She...reminds me of Zuala, a bit. She loved to tell jokes too.” 

Beau grows still, her mouth falling open slightly before she snaps it closed. Yasha watches eyes widen before her expression stills. 

“Can I tell you something?” She asks, her voice quiet in the stone room. 

Yasha nods simply, an encouraging smile on her face.

“I had a crush on her. I still do, a little, but its...just a crush. Nothing like…” Her voice trailed off, and Yasha felt the butterflies pick up, their soft wings fluttering against her ribcage. 

“I think I did too. Nothing serious, but she is just...so nice , you know?” 

Beau sagged as she grinned, shaking her head.

“Yeah, I know. I think everyone has a crush on Jester,”

Yasha laughed, and Beau’s eyes grew wide as she leaned up on her elbow. 

“What? You know I hate not knowing shit.” She said, her clever eyes squinting as Yasha laughed. 

“No, I think you’re right. I think the same, but - perhaps not for everyone.”

Beau sat up, her eyes boring into Yasha. 

“What do you mean?” 

Yasha sighed as she sat up, hands on her knees. 

“Has Caleb told you anything about...about his past?” 

Beau’s posture shifted, her shoulders tightening.

“...yes? Has he told you?” She asked carefully, her strong hands on her knees across from Yasha. 

Yasha shook her head, the beads on her braids clinking together. 

“No, but uh...Veth told me, on accident. I guess it’s true, then. What he did to his family.” Yasha said softly, watching as Beau’s eyes grew wide. 

Beau rolled her eyes and spit, her fists clenching. She scrubbed a blood-stained hand across her face, smearing the crimson from a split lip. 

“Goddamnit, Veth. Yeah, yeah it's true. But he was fucked up - Ikithon fucked with his brain Just like…” Beau trailed off, eyes going wide with embarrassment. 

“Just like Obann,” Yasha finished, Beau grimacing in sympathy. 

Beau sighed and reached out her hands to Yasha’s. She wrapped her fingers in hers, her pale flesh bright against Beau’s brown skin. 

“Yeah. So he...he did it, but it wasn’t him. It wasn’t his fault, just like it wasn’t yours. ” Beau said softly, her eyes pleading.

Yasha squeezed her hands tightly, smiling as Beau sighed in relief. 

“I know. If anyone knows...I do.”

Beau laughed brokenly, her bright eyes flicking up to hers.

“Beau,” She says gently, the woman squeezing her hands in response. 

“I did have a crush on Jester. But you…”

Beau’s head snapped up, her posture growing rigid. 

“You are special, Beau. To me.” 

Beau smiles, her grin wide.

“You’re special too, Yasha. To me. You...you took me by surprise, you know,”

Yasha smiled, running her thumbs across Beau’s strong hands. 

“So did you.”

They sat in silence, the pounding of their hearts the only sound. 

“Beau,” She says, watching as she looks up from their hands. 

“I think...Jester is special for Caleb. I think he is for her, too.”

Beau blinked blankly at Yasha, and she could see the connections forming, the spider pulling her web tight. 

“...fuck.” She said dumbly, her hands slack in Yasha’s grip.

Yasha watched as she jumped to her feet, Yasha rising with her and holding her shaking hands tight. Beau stood, her eyes squinting as she pieced it all together. 

“That stupid motherfucker,” She said with a laugh, covering her eyes with her free hand as she shook her head.

Yasha watched, bemused as Beau gripped her hand and started out of the room, following her dutifully. They slammed through the laboratory and into the softly lit interior of Caleb’s room. He was awake, reading a thick book with a pensive expression as his head snapped to see them. Yasha noted that he was dressed now, a simple shirt over his shoulders. His skin was still a bit too pale, and his eyes were sallow and tired. And he looked...frazzled, his eyes growing wide as Beau slammed into the room like a hurricane.

“Beauregard, Yasha,” He said cautiously, his voice rough. 

Beau stalked over to the bed, Yasha following dumbly as she pulled up a chair and straddled it. Yasha stood behind her, placing a calming hand on the monk’s shoulder. 

Beau narrowed her eyes at him, her hands wrapped tightly together in her lap. Caleb watched her curiously, his eyes flitting from her to Yasha. 

“This has been...a very rough morning, my friends,” He said, his eyes weary and apprehensive. 

Beau rolled her eyes and leaned forward, Yasha keeping a wide hand on her strong shoulder. 

“Well it's about to get rougher, Caleb,” She said, her eyes sparking. 

Caleb grew still, his eyes focusing on Beau. He was trying to read her, to gather some meaning, some conclusion as to what could have changed in the very small amount of time since he and Beau had last spoken. Yasha felt a rush of pity for the wizard - he really had no idea.

“I am going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer them. All right?” Beau said evenly, her eyes burning. 

Caleb leaned forward, his loose hair falling into his face. 

“What happened Beau? Are you alright?” He asked, concern written in his weary eyes. 

Beau pressed her lips together and took a deep breath, her shoulder shuddering under Yasha’s sure grip. 

“Just answer me, Caleb.”

He nodded, watching her with caution. Beau shook her head before looking up at him, their brilliant bright blue eyes eerily similar. 

“Do you love Jester?” She asked softly, the question like a dagger in the air. 

Yasha watched as Caleb looked up at her, his eyes widening with the same panic she had seen before. She gave him a reassuring smile, squeezing Beau’s shoulder. 

“I...of course I do I...I love you all,” He stammered, blood flushing his face. 

Beau rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers sharply in front of his nose, frustration on her face.

“Cut the shit, Caleb. We all saw you come back, we were there. Something happened. Yasha and I aren’t fucking blind, Caleb. Do you love her?” She asked forcefully, her hands shaking.

Caleb grew still and fell back into the pillows, his face slack. Silence fell in the room as he lowered his eyes, his hands still on the open book. 

“...Beau, Yasha...please.” He said softly, his eyes pleading. 

Beau was unrelenting, reaching forward to grab his hand. His grip was limp, eyes far away. 

“Just tell me, Caleb.” Beau said gently, her back arched with tension as she gentled her expression awkwardly.

He sighed raggedly, shaking his head as his loose hair fell about his shoulders. He met Yasha’s eyes, and she gave him an understanding smile as she rubbed Beau’s shoulders. He closed his eyes, head lolling forward as his breath grew uneven, narrow shoulders shaking slightly as he rubbed at his arms. 

“I do. You know I do. I would...I would do anything for her. She...she pulled me back. She... she found me ,” He said, his face curtained by bright red hair. 

Yasha watched as Beau leaned back, a blank look on her face as she squeezed Caleb’s hand weakly. 

“I know. I’m sorry Caleb but I…”

He raised his head with a wry smile, and Yasha felt her heart clench at the tears that streaked down his high-boned cheeks. 

“You had to know. I...I understand. But I -. Beauregard - I do not - she cannot know,” He says desperately, his damp eyes boring into Beau’s. 

Yasha feels Beau bristle, her hand slipping from Caleb’s.

“Did you even listen to me? She carried you out. She brought you back! I heard her speak to you , Caleb! I was fucking there! She…” Beau shook her head, frustration pulling at her mouth. 

Caleb smiled bitterly, another tear streaking silently down his face. 

“It isn’t like that, Beau. She…” 

Beau rolled her eyes again, standing and starting to pace in front of Caleb’s bed. She cracked her knuckles methodically, the sharp pops loud against the paneled walls. She cracked her neck, shaking her hands with anxious energy before stretching her arms over her head and wrapping them behind her back as she paced. 

“Allright, I know we don’t talk about our fucking feelings that often, but you were dead yesterday so I say fuck that,” She said, truning on her heel and leaning over the bed, pointing a finger at Caleb. 

“You are going to tell Yasha and I what the fuck happened, or I swear I will knock you out myself,” She demanded.

Yasha watched as Caleb narrowed his eyes at her, the two staring each other down in silence until he relented at last, sagging forward. 

“Mist. I will tell you, I will tell you everything. Just…”

Beau slashed a hand through the air, her face fierce. 

“No! You tell us how the fuck we got here, and then I will decide what happens next. You weren’t fucking there, Caleb. You didn’t see her,” She says roughly. 

Yasha watches as fear crosses his face, softening into something that looks dimly like…

Hope.

Yasha smiles as she crosses her arms and sits in the abandoned chair, watching as Caleb works his jaw, the long tendons pulling under his pale skin. Beau walked to the other side, pulling up a chair and straddling it once more, catching her eyes with a wink as she looked to Caleb once more. 

He sighed as they sat beside him, wiping his face roughly before looking up at the ceiling. He scratched at his arms absently for a moment before he seemed to catch himself, looking at his hands before him as he took a few deep breaths. He closed his eyes, his head falling forward as he spoke softly. 

“I have loved her for a very….a very long time. It… she took me by surprise,” He said with a weak smile.

Beau glanced up at Yasha across from him, and the women shared a knowing grin, returning their eyes to Caleb as he gathered his courage, his bright eyes closed tightly as he readied his words, hands wrapped together tightly.

Chapter Text

Caleb winced as he woke, his living body bruised and tender. He gasped in the dark for a few moments, wondering if he should send Veth a message. He tried to sit up, failing as a hot flare of fresh pain arched like lightning from his spine. He lay back, mind reeling as a foot squeaked the wooden floor, a wide hand pressing warm healing into his chest. 

He regained his breath slowly, his chest aching as the figure lit a lamp, and Caduceus came into view. He sat in the open chair, a hand on Caleb’s chest as the other went to his forehead. He studied him with a clinical eye, moving his along Caleb’s bare chest to rest directly over his heart as the other pressed flat on his warm forehead. 

Caduceus hummed and another flare of light left his palms. Caleb sighed as his bruises faded, the angry half-healed wound at his side closing once more. He gave Caleb a gentle smile as he produced a wet cloth and wiped at his face and chest, the sweat disappearing in cool relief. Caduceus set the towel aside and brought up a tray, steaming soup and fragrant tea. 

Caleb gave him a grateful smile as the firbolg helped him sit up once more, leaning back gratefully and taking a long drink of water. 

“You are a far better nurse than Beau,” He said with a quenched throat, wiping at his mouth. 

Caduceus laughed, leaning down to grab a stack of clean clothes and set them on the side table.

“I have had much more experience. You’re doing well, Caleb. Just a few more days and you’ll be fine,” He said easily, patting the stack of clothes.

“This is everything we had to cut and mend. All clean. When you’re done with breakfast I’ll help you to the bathroom and we can give you another potion,” He said, his smile calming. 

Caleb nodded, unable to muster the pride to argue against his help. He doubted he could walk to piss on his own when he could barely breathe without healing. After breakfast and a very shaky trip to relieve himself Caduceus helped him dress, tugging on some linen pajamas from Nicodranas. Caleb fell back into the pillows, gratefully taking the offered potion and sighing as his body relaxed, the wound closing farther. 

Caduceus gathered the tray and stood to leave, leaning against the door with a knowing smile. 

“You should feel better, from here on out. Not all the way, but enough to be okay. Message or yell if you need anything, alright?” 

Caleb smiled gratefully and nodded.

“Ja. Thank you, Caduceus. I appreciate it.”

Caduceus smiled wider, taking a few steps to stand by the bed.

“It is my pleasure. And Caleb - whenever you are ready, you can talk to me about what you saw.” He said kindly. 

Caleb blinked in shock before nodding dumbly, Caduceus’s kind smile unwavering as he left the room, the door falling closed. Caleb exhaled as he leaned back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. He reached for his clock, and found it ticking - six o’five in the morning.

He shook his head and turned off the lamp, settling slowly back down and trying to calm himself. His mind raced as he closed his eyes, his father’s eyes bright in his memory. He wondered if Caduceus knew - if, by the Wildmother or just his own strange power. He played the memory again in his head, summoning the smell of the golden grass, the feel of his mother’s rough apron in his hands. 

And Jester. Jester’s eyes, brilliant and glowing, her body a blue crackle of energy as her soul sparked and bent against, around, with his own. The cold fire of her touch, encompassing and consuming against his singed, bare skin. He gasped aloud at the memory of her touch, her strong hands gripping his raw soul and pleading.

“Come home, Caleb,”

He shivered at the flutter in his belly, the nervous thrill of her full attention, her wise eyes taking him apart. He was over - it was done. He would love her until his death, and beyond. He felt his soul shake as he admitted it at last. The truth washed over him as he curled his body into tight half circle facing the wall and flinching as the door creaked open behind him.

Soft light from the laboratory fell in a line before the door closed once more, darkness returning to the room. He felt his breath catch as the smell of cinnamon and incense filled his nose, and his body fell loose. He feigned sleep desperately, his hand shaking under the heavy blankets. The smell grew stronger, filling his nostrils as the chair scraped along the floor. He heard her breath as she sat down slowly, trying to be quiet. 

The time crept by, each moment ticking away as he listened to her breath. She leaned forward, the floor creaking slightly. She adjusted the chair once more until he could almost feel the press of her knees against his back as she brought the chair flush to the bed. He fought a flinch as her hand ghosted over his shoulder, tugging a few loose locks of hair in her hands. 

She stopped and waited, and Caleb fought a hysterical laugh as he put on his best performance, face slack and body loose with sleep. He knew she could see every inch of him - her bright eyes cutting through darkness easily. 

She seemed to believe him, her touch growing bolder as she brushed his jaw with her thumb. Her touch was cool and electric against his skin, and he let a string of nonsense Zemnian out as she brushed his face, a giggle escaping her. He fought a flush, wondering just how much she could see in the dark. 

He felt her grin as she ran a hand through his hair, his cover seeming to hold as she grew still once more, her hand resting on his shoulder. 

“Hey Caleb. I just wanted to see you. I’m okay, I was just like, so tired, you know?” She murmured. 

He maintained his charade, unsure if she still believed him or not. She didn’t seem to be intent on waking him intentionally, her hand slowly resuming its gentle pull through his loose hair. 

“Momma...momma always said that the last thing to go is hearing. So maybe it is the first to come back. I...I talked to you. And I want to talk to you. About it. About...about lots of things.” She said softly, and Caleb could not control the hammering of his heart as it pounded at her words. 

“Take your time, Caleb. I’ll be here,” She whispers, and he feels another bloom of healing magic course through him, green light briefly filling the room and casting her horned shadow along the wall. 

He fought to control his breath as she leaned over him, hesitating. He sighed as she pressed a cool kiss to his brow, the bare skin flushing with heat under her smiling lips. She padded from the room, standing in the doorway for a moment before her footsteps faded away. 

He flopped onto his back, panting as he stared at the ceiling. 

“Was zum Teufel?” He said weakly, turning on the lamp with shaking hands. 

He shook his head forcefully, grabbing the spellbook off the table and cracking open. He buried himself in the runes and designs, letting the rest fall away as his heart tried to calm. Time flowed easier, and it was not until eight fifteen that the door was knocked on, and Caleb set the book aside. 

“Ja, come in,” He said, placing a mark on the page. 

He blinked as Essek stepped into his room, wearing simple robes and a soft smile. Caleb sat back in surprise, his mind spinning. They had not seen each other since the sea. Caleb could not forget the rage and disappointment he had felt, but he could summon little of it as he met Essek’s wary eyes. 

“May I sit?” Essek asked, his smooth voice cautious. 

Caleb gathered himself, gesturing to the chair by the bed and closing the book. Essek looked - different. His posture was looser, his eyes far softer than Caleb had ever seen. He looked on Caleb with gentleness, wary and polite. 

Like a guilty dog, Caleb thought, leaning against the headboard and straightening his shoulders.

Essek sat lightly, his posture perfect as he looked on Caleb, his full lips parted slightly. Caleb kept his face neutral as a spark from training danced back into his memory. Sitting across from Astrid, learning the tells - of attraction, of attention, of how to grab someone who was hanging on your every word by the throat and squeeze. 

A fine neck to throttle, Caleb steeled his face, pushing down the instincts drilled into him, close to the surface as his body ached again. 

Essek was silent as he looked down to the ground, his pale eyes anxious. 

“I have not seen you in sometime. I have...I have reflected deeply on what you told me. What...what you all did for me. Forced myself to...sit with it. I have never cared for others as I have cared for you all. No one has...inspired such from me. Not even my family.” 

Caleb listened silently, his eyes trained on hands in his lap, fingers entwined tightly. 

“Those that suffered, those that died - they were a means to an end. I did not let it trouble me, for it was necessary. It was vital. I was so selfish that...they were not people to me. Not really.”

Essek took a deep breath, his eyes flitting to Caleb’s before falling to the floor once more. 

“I was...impressed by you all. You, especially. I had never seen such a thing - such bravado, and from a filthy human. And then - “ Essek looked away, his face tight.

“You were kind to me. You...made fun of me. No one had ever done that, really - no one had the courage. You all did not care - you even tried to stop them, in the beginning,” He said, his smile fond. 

Caleb stared, his mind going blank as the pieces slotted together. Astrid’s face swam before him again, the lie becoming the truth as they took each other apart, the first time, the fiftieth time. 

“You all...stunned me. I had never had friends before. And then, you - all of those lessons. I had never met someone so like myself, who could speak in ways that flew so high above other ears. You…”

Essek trailed off, a bitter smile pulling at his sharp jaw.

“There is no easy way to say it, Caleb. I...fell in love with you. And I must tell you, for it has...it has changed me, in ways I still cannot identify. I expect nothing from you and I...I will leave you be if you desire it.”

Caleb felt the world slip a bit, and he shook his head, trying to hold on. He had suspected, had watched the way his eyes fell on him and felt the honey in his words. But his betrayal still stuck sharp in his mind. The selfishness in his eyes as he defended his actions was sickeningly familiar. 

And Jester. Burning in his arms, seared into his heart. He smiled gently as he closed his eyes, the truth comfortable and warm. He would love no other, he knew. He would follow her soul to his death, and the next, longing for only her by his side. 

Essek watched as his face relaxed, and Caleb shook his head gently. 

“I am proud of you, Essek. With time, and work, you can heal. But I cannot give you what you seek. I love another. It is...done,” He said, his smile soft and weak. 

Essek took a harsh breath, but nodded in agreement, a half smile pulling at his full lips. He met Caleb’s eyes, his gaze gentle.

“Jester?” He whispered.

Caleb sighed and smiled, leaning into the pillows.

“Ja.” He said simply, sighing as the truth floated away. 

Essek’s eyes grew soft, understanding dawning. 

“I thought so. She is...special.” 

“I...cannot explain it. I was not expecting it, or...wanting this. It just happened. I do not intend to act on it.” Essek’s brows drew together, his eyes squinting slightly. 

“Why?” He said, his melodious voice soft. 

A laugh barked out of his chest, and he let his head fall back on the pillows. 

“You are...you are the third person to ask me that. As I have told you, I am...a mess. I have grown, and changed but,” He scrubbed a hand over his face, frustration building. 

“It doesn’t matter, Essek. She does not love me like that - and I am glad. She shouldn’t. There is so much more for her than a...than a damaged old man.”

Essek leaned back, his expression concerned as he searched his face.

“Will you humor me, Caleb?” He asked.

Caleb sighed and gave the drow a wry smile.

“Of course, friend.” 

Essek closed his eyes and leaned forward, his azure eyes piercing as he looked on him.

“You cannot see yourself properly. There is a...shadow over your eyes. I will tell you what I see - what I saw. I saw a filthy human, speaking honeyed words before one of the most powerful women in the world. I saw eyes filled with determination. I watched as he presented the Beacon I stole. I watched that human reunite a woman with her husband - and I realized that he and his friends had risked death and imprisonment to do so. 

I watched that man work tirelessly to restore that woman - not for a price, but because he loved her. I saw him change - I saw the filthy human shuck the dirt and shave away the beard to reveal a handsome, bright-eyed man with hair like the fire he wielded. I saw him end a war - a war that I helped to begin. And then, somehow, I saw him forgive me. I saw him, in a fine coat befitting an Archmage, kneel before me and press a kiss to my brow, like a king.”

Silence descended in the room, heavy like a quilt. Caleb blinked a few times, speechless. Essek smiled sadly, his handsome face drawn. 

“So, Caleb Widogast. You see what you were. Others see what you are. Your past, however objectively fascinating and dangerous - is just that. It may affect you, or those you love, but it is not your identity. You told me that.” Essek said softly, his eyes gentle. 

“And I will tell you - I am not wise, in matters of the heart. But yesterday, I spoke to her. She...knew my secret, saw it in my face. And when she knew she...she was very upset. She ran back to your home.”

Caleb’s mouth was dry, and he felt it open and close, stunned.

“Essek, I…”

Essek shook his head slowly, closing his eyes. 

“You were right, you know. We may both be damned, but we can be more. Against all of my expectations...I am still here. I would not have faulted any of you for acting against me. Beauregard still wants my throat, I think,” 

Caleb chuckled, happy to see a smirk on Esseks full lips. 

“She does. You can’t really blame her, friend. It is like telling a dog not to hunt.”

Essek rolled his eyes, and Caleb felt himself take a breath, the tension in the room easing. 

“Thank you. For everything. A year ago I was a drifter in the gutter. Now, I can barely recognize my life, let alone myself. Though, if I may confess - my brief jaunt into the beyond told me that I was not as damned as I thought. You have given me much to think on, my friend.” 

Essek smiled once more, his grin reaching his eyes at last. His eyes sparked with ferocious curiosity, and he leaned forward, steepling his fingers. A fellow Wizard emerged from the sallow eyed youth beside him. 

“Really? What did you see, if I may ask?”

Caleb sighed and closed his eyes, remembering. 

“I saw my family. You say I gave you forgiveness...I...I was given the same. It gave me hope, however fragile it may be. I would try to call it a dream, a vision, but...I heard them all, while I was there. And I saw Jester. She sent her god to fetch me.”

Essek’s eyes grew wide, and he leaned back in his chair. 

“Fascinating. While you were here you were also...fascinating.” Essek whispered, curiosity brimming. 

“I know. It is all...a great deal to process. I know it will be some time before it all makes sense, if it ever does.” 

Essek nodded, and Caleb could see the composure returning to his face, his shoulders relaxing. 

“I will leave you to your rest, Caleb. No, do not fret - I am well. I am very glad that we spoke. You are my greatest friend, Caleb. That is enough. It is more than enough,” Essek said with a gentle smile.

Caleb reached forward to grab his hand, and Essek let him, gripping him tight. 

“There is much work left to do. I cannot say that what you did is water under the bridge but - we have both grown. And we will continue to - together.”

A ragged breath broke from Essek’s chest, and he nodded, releasing Caleb’s hand and rising. He walked to the door, stopping to look back at Caleb. There was a flash of longing in his face, but there was more - affection, soft and open. 

“We will. If Beauregard does not drag me to the dungeons,” 

Caleb laughed and shook his head, falling against the pillows. 

“I can make no promises to that. It was good to see you, Essek.”

Essek inclined his head, pausing at the door. 

“It was good to see you too, Caleb.” He said, slipping out of the door, his light footsteps following. 

Caleb sagged against the pillows, pressing his hands on his face tightly. He shook his shoulders, taking a few deep breaths as he reached for his spellbook once more, desperate to distract himself. He was able to disappear into his book for an hour, his mind calming

He jumped as he heard a sudden bang, followed by the unmistakable steps of Beau, Yasha close behind as they barrelled into his room. He watched as Beau slammed herself into the chair beside the bed, straddling it as Yasha placed a massive hand on her shoulder. 

He sat still, eyes flickering from Beau’s furious eyes to Yasha’s apologetic, yet firm smile. His heart began to pound once more and he looked back to the ceiling, wondering once again if it was all a dream and he was still dead after all. He took a deep breath as the two women bored their eyes into him, and summoned his last ragged bit of pride as he straightened his shoulders and prepared for whatever else the universe had for him this day. 

“Beauregard, Yasha.”

Chapter Text

Beau softened her posture, leaning her chin on the chair. Caleb counted his breaths as he took them, pulse racing in his bruised skin. 

“We had a crush on Jester, you know,” Yasha said awkwardly, and Caleb almost bit his tongue laughing.

He shook his head as he leaned into the pillows, pushing away blankets as his face grew hot with his blush. 

“It is a bit more than a crush, Yasha.” He said with a smile. 

Yasha grinned at him, her strange eyes sparkling. 

“I know. I was married, Caleb. Love like that is...it is special, Caleb,” Yasha said softly, glancing across at Beau. 

Caleb followed her gaze, Beau now looking at the floor with a bright blush as she rubbed the back of her neck. Caleb rolled his eyes as he realized, giving them both a wry smile. 

“So you two?” He says, raising an eyebrow at Beauregard. 

She only smiles, her eyes falling on Yasha as she nods. 

“Yeah. So, now that is out of the way,” She said quickly, Yasha chuckling at her blush. 

“Spill, Caleb. How long?” Beau asked, a grin on her mouth. 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“I will not sit here and demand every detail about you and Yasha, I would ask the same,” He says with a grimace. 

Beau just rolls her eyes, settling into her chair. 

“Ah, you see but Yasha and I are together - a couple. For like...an hour?” She said, looking at Yasha, who nodded solemnly. 

“I see. And you two are here, right now, nagging me instead of..?” He asks, watching Beau narrow her eyes.

“Don’t you bring my sex life into this Caleb!” She says with narrowed eyes, pointing at him.

“Well -” 

Yasha laughs, the sound bright in the room as she shakes her head at Caleb. 

“Caleb. Just tell us. You’ll feel better, and you may be surprised.” She said gently. 

Caleb looked at her, his eyes pleading for a moment, before surrendering and closing his eyes. He sighed and looked at Beau, her eyes kind if impatient. 

“I don’t know when. I...it was slow. She would...say things, do little things. She was not...she was never scared of me. Or shy. She…” He smiled, falling back to a mind full of liquor and her sure steps as they danced.

“When...whe she danced with me, in Hupperdook. Like a pebble in a still pond, it rippled. I saw her differently. Then, losing her and...it began to fall. We retrieved them all and I...I began to watch a little closer. See a bit more, every day. Meeting her mother - all of the pieces began to fit, but then I would find more, more that...that I could not put together. She fascinated me. And before I knew it, I was falling.” 

The room was silent as they listened, their faces eager and soft. He thought of the romance novels that the girls pretended they didn’t pass around. Was he some hero in a novel, confessing to his closest friends at last? He smiled at the thought as he continued, his eyes wistful. 

“She saw me as I wanted to be seen. It made me feel like I could be...more, than what I was. What I had been. It was enough, you know? To be near her. It was enough to keep her safe, and make her smile when I could.”

He looked to Beau once more, pausing. He glanced to Yasha, her face kind and open, before looking back to his hands and closing his eyes. 

“And then I died. I woke in a field - in my hometown. I saw smoke, and I followed it to my mother. She was...so kind to me. She embraced me and... My father he, he came in as well and we spoke. We spoke of you all, of Jester and - they forgave me. While we spoke I could hear...sounds, in the distance. Screaming, and clashing and words, sometimes. I was told it was the living. I heard you, Beauregard, once. And....and Jester,”

“The sky was cloudy, when I arrived. A storm began to brew while I was there until the rain began, and I saw a bright light. I left my parents and followed it, and I could hear all of you. The storm grew worse, and the spell began.” 

He opened his eyes as they watched him breathlessly. Beau’s eyes were hard and focused, but he could see the dampness as she glanced to Yasha, her smile sad. 

“The light changed and I saw - I saw Jester. But it...it wasn’t her, like now. It was her soul, and it was...beautiful.” He said with a smile.

“Fuck,” Beau said dumbly, before waving at him to continue.

“ Ja. I ah...saw her, and then she spoke to me and she...touched me. Held me. It was...I cannot describe it. The storm grew worse, and we were...were on fire,” He whispered, shaking his head.

“She told me to come home. And then - the rain began to pour. The fire dissolved, and she held me again, and I felt…”

He sighed raggedly, running a hand through his loose hair as he shivered from the memory. 

“She disappeared. And I stood there, sopping wet and stunned, and there was Artagan with a gate. He was very, ah, upset. I jumped into the gate and awoke in bed. You know the rest.” He said softly, looking up to see tears falling down Beau and Yasha’s cheeks. 

He smiled as Beau wiped her nose aggressively, her red eyes focused. 

“Holy shit, ” She breathed, a weak smile on her face. 

He glanced over to Yasha. The powerful barbarian held a hand over her mouth, eyes damp. 

“Ja. So. Little more than a crush, Beauregard.” He said softly, giving her a weak smile. 

Beau collected herself, rolling her eyes as she wiped her face with a scarf. 

“Still, you...you have to tell her, Caleb.” Yasha said gently, her eyes on Beau.

Caleb shook his head, pushing away as their words pressed on his heart. 

“I will not...there is another who is far better for her. I am...I would not ask this of her.” 

Beau rolled her eyes, glaring at Caleb. 

“Fjord? Are you kidding me right now?” She said flatly.

Caleb narrowed his eyes at her, anger flaring. 

“You cannot sit there and tell me that he does not care for her, or she him. He is...good, and kind and funny and I - I am...I am not that,” He said, his voice breaking in anger and sorrow.

Yasha leaned forward, grabbing Caleb’s limp hand. There was pity in her strange eyes, against the level set of her mouth. She stared into him, her eyes glinting with focus. 

“Caleb. I know she spoke to you. I heard her,” She said gently, her face a foot from his. 

Caleb felt his mouth go slack, brain silent as she spoke. He should have known, should have realized. But his heart wouldn’t allow it, before. 

“I heard her. She was so...your death shattered us, Caleb. She was so scared, and so brave for you. Do you know where she slept that night?” Yasha asked, her eyes powerful so close to his own. 

“I do. She slept in your bed, Caleb. She slept next to you, because she wanted to. She didn’t tell me - I saw her.”

Beau coughed, and Caleb could tell that this was the first time she was hearing this. His chest ached as Yasha spoke, hope sparking weakly like damp fireworks. Yasha looked to Beau with a smile before turning her mismatched gaze to him. She gripped his hands gently, her powerful grip encompassing. 

“I won’t force you, Caleb. And I know Beau won’t either,” She said, grinning as Beau huffed and crossed her arms across her chair. 

Yasha released his hands, nodding at Beau and walking to the door. Beau followed reluctantly, reaching for the hand Yasha offered. 

“Think about it, Caleb. Life is too short to ignore this,” She said gently, leaving the room. 

Beau followed, pointing two fingers at Caleb before letting Yasha lead her away, the door closing gently behind them. 

He pressed his hands to his face and groaned, heart pounding in his ears. His body was still achy, though nothing compared to the agony of before. He closed his eyes as he breathed, trying to think through the pounding behind his eyes. The image of Jester coiled around his vine wrapped corpse. The flashing of her neon eyes against him, soul flaring before him. Her words, falling from her soft voice like chains that tightened around his heart.

“Come home, Caleb,”

He jumped as the door echoed with three sharp knocks, sighing against his hands. 

“Was gottverdamnt!” He groaned, his heart stilling as a bright blue face peeked through the door. 

He went still, his jaw falling open as she smiled and walked in, her hands holding a tray of food. He smiled weakly, shaking his head. He scrubbed a hand through his wild hair, reaching for a tie on the nightstand and giving her an apologetic grimace as he pulled his hair into a loose tie at the nape of his neck.

“Sorry Jester - “ He said, Jester interrupting him with a wave and a grin. 

“It’s okay , Caleb,” She said with a smile, setting down the tray and sitting beside him. 

He ran a hand over his hair as he sighed weakly, her bright smile warm and comfortable. He remembered Yasha’s words and felt a blush creeping up his half buttoned shirt, well aware of the eager rush of his fresh blood. He suddenly regretted typing up his hair, if only for the ability to hide his burning face and ears. 

“Ja, well there will be plenty of time for that. I have had enough sleep for a while,” He said with a weak grin. 

Jester scrunched her nose, shaking her head. He smiled at the jingle of jewelry on her horns, the way the lantern light reflected in her dark blue hair. He had admitted it now - had let the words loose into the world, to run and bite him. 

“Ja well, we will see about that. Eat Caleb,” She said, her command playful as she leaned back and crossed her arms.

He took a deep breath and obeyed happily, his mind calming as she spoke, filling the cold room with her voice. 

“Soup and bread for a few more days, then back to normal. Oh, once you’re good we need to visit Nicrodranas, Momma said there is a new restaurant she wants to try and she needs someone to go with. We need to visit Veth’s family anyway, I haven’t seen Nugget in like, forever, ” 

She went on, Caleb nodding and humming in the right places as he ate. He had always enjoyed the quiet, but there was a deep comfort in hearing her speak. The lilting of the syllables, the animated way she moved her face and hands. To have her near, and happy, her voice weaving through the air like her Spiritual Guardians around him. 

When he was at last finished with his bread, Jester stopped speaking suddenly. Her face went still as she paused in her description of her next Mansion Art Project, and he blinked at the sudden stop, silence falling in the room. He wiped his mouth, raising his eyebrows as she paused.

“Then what? Red or yellow for the roses?” He asked, watching as she blinked and looked back up at him. 

Her eyes were a little wide, until her smile broke, pulling her face into a delighted grin. 

“You know? Red. I think it will really pop, ” She says with a grin, popping the syllables dramatically. 

He chuckles, nodding as he leans back against the pillows. She raises her eyebrows and giggles, looking away as she does. This is...easy. Comfortable. Being here, alone with her is the easiest thing in the world. 

It would be so easy, to tell her. Far too easy.

She looks back to him, holding his gaze for a sudden, searing moment. He is struck still as he is taken back, holding her soul in his arms, half-naked and stripped raw. 

She looks away, but the damage is done, the energy in the room turning as another blush creeps up his chest. He blinks as he watches her face flush purple, the delightful color bright against her blue skin. 

She glances at him once more, holding his eyes. He feels his heart pound as she gazes into him, and he is there, flesh steaming as she holds him in strong arms. Reality begins to swim as she reaches out for him, her hands shaking. He holds his breath as she looks down, her mouth in a line before she raises her eyes to his once more. 

His breath hitches at the soft smile on his face, and he feels what is left of his resolve unravel like yarn, like a pastry falling apart in her hands. He smiles shakily, reaching for her hands as he takes a deep breath, gathering courage in the light that spills from her eyes. 

Her grip is cool in his, small hands encompassed in his. He raises eyes to hers as he kisses her hands softly, her breath hitching at the press of his lips.  

His father’s voice rings in his ears as he meets her eyes once more, her mouth open as she stares at him. He leans back, his breath warm on her hands as he speaks. 

“You know...I heard you. I...I always heard you, Jester. Even when I was...gone,” He said softly. 

Her eyes grew damp, her breath hitching once more as she tried to smile at him. Her hands were steady in his, and he laughed shakily, his heart pounding. 

“I still want to talk about it,” She said shakily, her hands squeezing his. 

He nodded, running his thumb slowly down her cool hands. He watched as she closed her eyes, and he felt hope spark once more, weak and selfish.

“Ja. I….I do too,” He murmured. 

He kissed her hands once more, his breath shaky.

“I will,” He said weakly, her bright eyes burning into him. 

He sent a quick prayer to Artagan, wondering if the Archfey would notice. As Jester leaned forward, her wise eyes powerful on his, he realized he needed all the help he could get. 

Chapter Text

She woke slowly, blinking into her exhausted body with a grimace. 

“Shit,” She hissed, pressing a healing spell to her aching head. 

She took a deep breath as the healing eased her aching head and body, and she looked across the room. Beau was gone, unexpected but not unusual. She squinted into the dark, dimly wondering what time it was as she laid back, mind reeling from the night before. The last thing she remembered was the taste of sweat and blood on her lips as she kissed Caleb’s forehead, his body still so cold, so cold under her lips. 

She closed her eyes, arching her back as she stretched and shivered at the memory. He - his soul , had burned against her, and she couldn’t bear the feel of his cold flesh, it was so wrong. Her thoughts were flying past her, too fast to catch. Like dolphins at sea, jumping in and out of view, weaving intricate patterns beneath the water as she tried to follow. 

There were threads that were impossible to miss, threads that she pulled tight and tied in intricate knots, the pattern forming on a crushing conclusion. She had suspected, but not dared to think it. She had always flirted with him, she always flirted with everybody. But it changed, somewhere along the time they had shared - changed slow and easy. She had missed it somehow, settled into a place so comforting she didn’t know she had fallen. 

She was not blind - not to him. She knew she hadn’t imagined his eyes following her, flicking away when he thought she could see. When his mouth turned at her jokes, or better yet, stunned laughter fell from his sharp mouth. Easier and easier it had become, and he had started to play back - challenge and mischief sparkling back at her in his ocean eyes. She had found herself sketching him more and more, his bright eyes and elegant hands finding their way into the pages of her books. 

She had ignored it, or pushed it away, or put a bookmark in it. It was...new, and strange, and wonderful. But it was never the right time, never the moment she needed to take him by his bony shoulders and end the dance. She didn’t want to, not yet, the sorrow and joy too sweet to part with just yet. 

And then. 

His body, crushed and impaled beneath glowing green stones. Vines encompassing him as she went into shock at last, her body going on automatically as she took him greedily against her. He was still warm, still warm against her chest. Her heart had hammered beside his as the body had grown cold in her arms, and she felt her heart ache .

He was limp still, in her grip, and she sighed in relief - Caduceus had explained the spell, after. Rigor mortis would not take him, the spell pausing his decomposition beneath the tight vines. She did not want to see his form tighten and grow stiff - that would be too much, and she did not know if her heart could bear it. She had carried him easily, and she could see Esseks lovesick face behind her eyes - so obvious, now. 

She sat up in bed, eyes adjusting quickly as she looked around the empty room. She had always waited, for the moment. She pressed her cool hands to her face, remembering the searing touch of his wide hands. She could not imagine a moment more obvious, the gods laughing at her behind their shimmering curtain. She took a deep breath as she began to whisper, a spell weaving in the air. 

“ Momma … I need help. Caleb was dead and I helped bring him back how do you know you’re in love because I think I might -” 

She waited, holding her breath for and sighing in relief at her mother’s response. She smiled weakly at the confusion in her melodic voice, her kind eyes so vivid in her mind. Momma, so kind and so gentle, her love so massive and ferocious she still grappled with the weight of it. 

“Jester, darling, this is ..a lot , but I am... very proud of you. I don’t know - the best thing to say, love is...many things,”

Jester closed her eyes, longing for her mother. She gathered herself, focusing on the words deliberately. 

“I’m sorry momma. So much has happened. I don’t know how to explain. I want to be with him, more than anyone. He makes me -”

She huffed in frustration as she felt the spell cut off, her heart soaring as her mother responded quickly. 

“I have nothing but love for the boy. He brings you home to me, and he is kind and good to you. What more needed?”

She laughed and rubbed at her eyes. Momma made it sound so simple. He loved her, she loved him - what more was there to do? 

“Thank you so much momma, I think I know what to do - I just have to go do it, you know? Talk to him some.”

She said shakily, taking a deep breath after. 

“Exactly my darling. He is a fool if he refuses you, know- from The Ruby - I know well the look of a man in love.” 

Jester grinned, turning her body to let her feet fall to the wooden floor as she dressed quickly. She tiptoed down the stairs, fighting a laugh as she slipped into the laboratory and into Caleb’s room. She saw her shadow paint the wall, and she padded forward, pulling the chair close before giving up and scooting it up next to the bed. 

If he isn’t asleep, he’s doing a very good job of pretending,

She reached out, pulling a few strands of bright red hair through her fingers. He didn’t seem to respond, so she grew bolder, brushing her thumb down his - warm, warm, - cheek and grinning at the blush that flooded his pale skin with eager blood. 

“Hey Caleb. I just wanted to see you. I’m okay, I was just like, so tired, you know?” She says quietly, admiring his commitment as he took deep, even breaths, even after letting a string of Zemnian fall from his lips. 

“Momma...momma always said that the last thing to go is hearing. So maybe it is the first to come back. I...I talked to you. And I want to talk to you. About it. About...about lots of things.”

She breathed, letting her hands pull though his wavy, bright hair. 

“Take your time, Caleb. I’ll be here,” She said with a smile, his pulse fervent beneath her palm as she presses it to his cheek.

She presses a healing spell to him, her shadow appearing again as the green light flashes in the room. She leaned over him, pausing for a moment before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to his clean temple. She left quietly, blushing as she made her way back to her room. She turned on a light and began to work, sketches and words flowing smoothly from her hands as she told Artagan of the tumult of his soul, the gratitude for his return, and the stilling fire of his skin on hers. 

She let time flow away, returning to herself as the door opened, Caduceus holding out a tray of food. She felt her stomach growl loudly, and they both laughed as he set down the food. He remained, his perceptive eyes glancing at her open sketchbook as she blushed, biting down hard on a danish as he smiled at her, his eyes knowing and gentle. 

“Caleb needs lunch soon - he might try to do it himself, but he really shouldn’t.” He said, his voice casual - just the Clerics discussing a patient, after all. 

Jester grinned, eating quickly as she nodded. 

“Oh of course. I’ll be right down, I’ll do it.” She said, trying to emulate Caducues’s easy tone and rolling her eyes at the temple in her voice. 

He merely smiled, heading to the door and slipping away with a half wave. She finished eating and made her way to the kitchen, taking the prepared tray from Caduceus as he gave her another smug smile. She ignored the patter of her heartbeat as she stood before the door, her knuckles rapping three times, sharp and clean. 

She heard his voice call out, rough and frustrated, and she bit her lip. 

“Was gottverdamnt!”

She giggled as she recognized the words, pushing her head through the crack in the door with wide eyes. He stared at her, his shoulders sagging as he pulled at his loose hair, tugging it into a knot at the nape of his long neck. 

“Sorry, Jester,” He said, his voice still rough as he looked at her, blush pink on his pale skin. 

“It’s okay, Caleb, you need more sleep.” She said gently, setting the tray on the side table and returning to the chair beside the bed. 

She folded her hands in her lap as she gave him a gentle smile, watching the blush travel from his half open shirt to his round ears. 

“There will be plenty of time for that. I have had enough sleep for a while,” He said, and she felt a sudden, deep desire to kiss him silent, if only to stop him from frustrating her. 

She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, levelling a glare at him. 

“Ja well, we will see about that. Eat Caleb,” She commanded. 

He obeyed at last, his eyes falling from hers as he ate. She continued to speak, trying to fill him in as much as calm the irritating flutter in her belly. He let her babble, his eyes occasionally falling to hers as he hummed and nodded. He was always so patient, letting her ramble on far beyond when others would have grown weary. 

She couldn’t imagine losing him, not now, not when his gentle face was so fixated on hers. He always took her seriously, adding ideas here and there, admiring her designs as she described a mural she wanted to add to the alley behind the Chateau. She let her words flow easily, until he finished his meal at last. 

She felt herself still as she realized that she needed to - to leave, to let him rest. He watched her curiously, and she sagged a little as he spoke. 

“Then what? Red or yellow for the roses?” He asked, his eyes curious. 

She shook herself, returning to a smile as she grinned at him, pushing her anxiety down. 

“You know? Red. I think it will really pop, ” She says, leaning forward in excitement as he laughs, and she giggles, turning away from his laughter. 

She looked back to him, and it must have been so plain on her face. He grew still, and the silence stretched between them, her heartbeat keeping time. She looks away once more, catching her breath as he grows still before her. She closes her eyes as she feels a flush color her skin, his own mirroring hers. 

She looks back to him, and he is gone . He looks at her like - air to the drowning, life to the dead. Memories grip her as she reaches out blindly, his warm hands in hers at last. His skin is almost as scorching as his soul, and she feels her breath hitch as his eyes settle on her face, burning. 

He leans forward, and his warm lips kiss her knuckles, the breath ghosting over her skin. 

“You know...I heard you. I...I always heard you, Jester. Even when I was...gone,” he breathes, his words like a whisper in her ear as his eyes glitter in the low light. 

Tears filled her eyes at last, and he laughed softly as she tried to smile, his pulse strong as she pressed her fingers to his thin wrists. 

“I still want to talk about it,” She managed, her voice weak.

He nodded, running his thumb slowly down her cool hands. She 

“Ja. I….I do too,” He murmured, his eyes far away. 

He kissed her hands once more, his breath shaky. He took a deep breath, and she met his eyes, holding him steady as she watched them fall open, curtains burning away. 

“I will,” He said weakly, and she sighed as she gripped his hands, her heart aching for him as he looked at her, eyes wet and desperate.

Chapter Text

He took a ragged breath, looking down from her eyes to their joined hands. Her gaze was searing, and he could feel her on him still. He gripped at her hands, the pressure grounding as his head spun. 

“You are right. You deserve to know, more than...more than anyone. But I must tell you that I have… I have been lying to you. You must know that. I am a...a murderer, and a theif, and a liar.” He says, the heavy words thick in his throat. 

She gripped his hands tighter, her strength soothing as she leaned forward and held him close. He forced his eyes to hers, and found amusement on her clever face, soft beneath the concern. She brushed her thumbs along his wrists, the sharp nails sending thrills up his skin.

“So am I, Caleb.” She said easily, her smile dark and wise beyond the playful tone. 

He shook his head, feeling resolve slip away, like dead leaves taken by the wind.

“Not like...not like me, Jester. I...not like me,” He said, her soft smile unwavering as she took him in, rolling her eyes. 

“You need to give up, Caleb. I don’t care. Or, I do - because I love you anyway,” She said softly, and he felt his heart slip away fully, curled up in her small fists. 

“Can you tell me what you saw? Back then?” She asked, a hand wandering to grip his forearm, tracing soothing patterns against the scarred skin.

He looked down, closing his eyes as he remembered. 

“I can’t. Not yet,” He said softly.

She nodded, her other hand brushing a loose lock of hair behind his ear. He fought a sigh at the contact as she rested her palm against his temple. 

“Can I ask why?” She responds, her eyes kind as they burn with curiosity. 

I want to tell you. He pushes away the realization, looking away as her eyes take him apart. He wants to lie with her in the dark and spill his heart like paint, red and viscous as it stained the floor. He wants to tell her about the amber freckles on his mother's sharp nose, the way the light took her hazel green eyes to a stunning pale shade in the sun. 

He wants to explain the breadth of his father’s shoulders, the way his massive hands held his bony shoulder easily. About his smile, knowing and wise, his hair long like his. A changed man, from who he knew. 

“It is...too fresh. And - I do not want to burden you with it. You...you don’t deserve that,” He said, wincing as she let her nails scratch along his arm.

He looks away as she leans closer, pressing her hand to his jaw and turning his face to hers. Her eyes are steady as the press against him, and she grips his face securely, a brief flash of anger passing over her face.

“Do not tell me what I don’t deserve, Caleb. I brought you back. I carried you, you know,” She says quickly, a challenge flaring in her eyes as he takes a shallow breath.

He brought a hand to cover hers, turning her palm as she relaxed against his touch. He shook his head before leaning into her palm, the cool skin soothing agaist his feverish skin.

“Forgive me. I haven’t even thanked you yet, have I?” He asked, laughing bitterly.

She reached up and held his face with both hands, her eyes unescapable. 

“You don't have to thank me. I would have done anything to get you back. You need to know that, Caleb. If you don’t know anything else, know that.” She said fiercely, and he stared at her, his resolve crumbling at her words. 

“You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. I don’t want to put you thorough it again, Caleb. I’m sorry for pushing.” She said softly, her eyes apologetic.

He let his head fall forward in her grip, looking to her soft eyes as she released him. He reached out and she wound their hands together once more, her strong fingers grounding. 

“You are so kind to me, Jester. You have...always been so kind to me,” He said weakly, Jester shaking her head with a grin.

“Not always, Caleb. We both know that,” She responds, her face tender with memories.

He shrugged, letting his heart fall open at last. The girl who had called him smelly and threw tantrums about gold was long gone. And even so, he found it charming - she was entitled in a way that he admired and envied - Jester had always known comfort, and love, and she had a way of demanding both of them with a conviction that had ebbed gently. She was humbler now, more careful with her words. He would spoil her forever, if he could. Jester should never want for anything. He sighed with a smile as the thought of her draped in silks and jewels drew a flush to his face. 

I am so gone.

“If I cannot tell you what you deserve, I cannot...I cannot hold from you the truth,” He took a deep breath, meeting her eyes once more and fighting to hold her gaze, the impossible violet casting a spell over him as he took a deep breath.

He raised her hands to his mouth once more and kissed her knuckles tenderly, bowing his head before her and closing his eyes.  

“I love you, and I have loved you for a long time. I have not...wanted to tell you. It was...I did not want to burden you with it. I thought I could push it away. But I can’t. Not anymore.”

He raised his head, her plush lips open against her stunned face. He smiled weakly as he gripped her limp hands, shaking his head as he marveled at her skin against his, the same pale color of his blue veins. 

“I ask nothing from you. Absolutely nothing. I would...I would stop myself from begging, if you left my side. But it would not be easy,” He said with a broken smile.

She shook herself, and he sighed at the sudden strength in her grip as she searched his face. 

“Caleb...I,” She is speechless, and he smiles gently, fighting a sob. 

“Forgive me, Jester. We never have to speak of it again, if you desire,” He said in a rush, his voice rough as her hands gripped desperately at his. 

“No! No, Caleb I…” She shook her head, laughing as she covered her mouth.

“I don’t know what to say,” She said gently, and he felt his heart fall, the pain familiar and cold. 

He patted her hands as he released her grip. She blinked at him as he leaned back, collecting himself. He managed a tired smile as she looked at him with confusion, shaking his head. Panic begins to tug at the seams of his mind, and he pushes it down. The urge to escape is consuming, and he takes a ragged breath, wrapping his arms around himself. 

“You don’t have to say anything, Jester. You’re right. I’m...very tired. And I am...delirious, I think. I’m sorry Jester.” He said, letting weariness show as he sagged his shoulders and let his tangled hair fall in his face. 

Bren was screaming in his chest, and he closed his eyes as the sound echoed in his mind. He longed for nothing more than to curl away and nurse his wounds, to fall once more into the perfect prison of his mind. He opened his eyes, chest twisting in misery as he watched her soft smile grow wary, her hands still curled in front of her where he had let go. 

He leaned into the pillow weakly, eyes glazing over as he felt himself begin to detach, reality thinning as he shut down. He registered her - drawing her hands close, a nervous fear tugging at her lovely eyes. 

She paused as she stood, her face falling. Bless her, she was hesitating, twisting her face. He watched as she wound her hands under her chin, violet eyes wide as she shook her head. She was biting her lip - too hard, enticing fangs drawing pricks of blood. 

“No, its okay! I...Do you...do you want me to go?” She asked softly, and he smiled through the screaming of his heart. 

“Ja, I...think I need to rest. I’m okay.” He managed, sighing as she blinked in confusion before backing out of the door quickly, her form disappearing. 

He waited until her footsteps had disappeared and slapped himself hard on the cheek, working his jaw at the sting.

He took a deep breath as he returned to himself, mind reeling. He could not - he could not be here. Bren was low in his ear, a dying whisper.

What did you expect, you idiot. 

 He grimaced and wound shaking hands around his aching skull, hissing as he strangled the memory’s throat once more, silencing it as he opened his eyes wide. 

“Du bist tot, Bren,” He whispers aloud, his father’s words echoing in his mind.

He startled, jumping out of bed and dressing as fast as he could. He grabbed his mended coat, gratefully shrugging it over his shoulders as he sorted through his materials and strapped the holsters, the weight familiar as he crouched and began to draw a transportation circle on the wooden floor, working with practiced speed.

He patted the holster, his journal in it’s familiar spot. He left the circle almost finished, his breath rough as he brought the wire to his mouth. 

“Veth, I am going to Nicodranas. I am okay - I will return in two days. Please do not worry about me,” He said, tucking the wire in his coat and crouching once more, the circle blooming with light. 

He stilled as he heard quick footsteps, followed by Beau slamming into the room, her eyes wide as Jester stared at Caleb behind her. He took in their faces for a split second, Beau’s fury and Jester’s wet, confused eyes as he stood and backed into the circle, gasping as he twisted away from them in a flash of blinding light. 

Chapter Text

Jester backed out of the room clumsily, falling against the wall of the lab. She rubbed at her knuckles, the warmth from his lips still on her skin. He was so afraid , something in his eyes pleading for her to leave even as he reached for her. Her words had left her completely, her body stilling with panic. 

She slid down the wall, covering her face. 

He loves me. 

He loves me and I...couldn’t say anything. 

Why had her tongue gone still and cold in her mouth? Her heart had hammered as he bowed before her, his hair like a gleaming shroud as he looked back up to her. There was bloodshot around the gleaming blue, and she could still see the purple-pink bruising around his eyes that had made them stand out, a flickering lantern held before her eyes in the half dark room.

She lost track of time as she sat, trying to stitch it all together. She had fretted and prayed and spent spell after spell to learn the truth. She had laid awake in fear, her heart that he did not love her. Now the truth had been given to her, his long, narrow hands encasing hers in swaddling warmth. 

Just another moment, she thought, letting her head fall against the paneling. Another minute to recover from the way her heart had shifted. Gravity had shifted as he spoke, her heart tied so tightly to hers she thought she might break. She had felt as the panic crept into his voice, the doubt, and she could not stop him, could not find the words to explain why she was silent. 

She shook her head and rose to her feet, turning her head back and hearing a soft scratch from his room, like paper to pen. 

Was he writing about her?

Selfish, Lavorre, she thought as she shook her head and walked forward blindly, bumping into Beau in the hall. Beau grabbed her gently, righting her on her feet. Jester looked at her blankly, Beau’s eyes pulling with worry.

“Jester? Is everything okay?” She asked quickly. 

Jester shook her head, mouth dry. She blinked as the pieces came together, his wild eyes and shaking hands telling her what he would not. He had been dead, not so long ago. So much in such a short time, so much heartache and pain, physical and emotional. A body could only take so much. He needed to rest. 

O r to escape, she realized with a rush, her eyes focusing on Beau. 

“I think...I think there is something wrong with Caleb - I think he may run - “ She breathed, Beau’s eyes growing wide as Veth screamed upstairs. 

Beau grabbed Jester, sprinting through the doors as Jester stumbled to keep up. Bright light spilled from Caleb’s room as Beau slammed the door open, and Jester just caught his face before the circle whisked him away. She could see an apology hanging there, a sorrow in his shoulders. 

“Goddamnit!” Beau screamed, slamming her fist into the wall. 

She followed Beau as she stalked back out to the main chamber. Jester looked up at the fine chandelier, the gentle sparkle of the crystals throwing fractals across the space. Jester felt time slow down as the rest of the Nein joined them, their faces alight with worry. Veth skidded down behind them on the stairs, her dark eyes wild as she caught herself on the last step.

Jester looked down to the halfling, feeling far away as she took in her wild eyed expression. . Jester walked towards her, kneeling before the woman and holding her eyes, keeping her face calm as something in her chest began to howl, waking an unseen host. 

“He’s in Nicodranas. He told me,” Veth said, her lip trembling. 

Jester took a deep breath, aware of the eyes on her as she spoke. She closed her eyes, and she could feel it clenching and unclenching in her chest, the same rage that she had given their enemies a taste of. Infernal rang in her ears, the guttural and sharp language comforting. She looked around at them all, noting the careful way that Beau and Yasha eyed her. 

Like a snake about to strike.

“There is something I don’t know.” She says softly, watching as Veth’s eyes grow wet. 

She comes back to her feet, looking around at them and feeling fresh anger run up her spine at last. They had failed him - he needed rest, not...all of this. Guilt tore at her as she imagined what he had endured, and she wished that she had just stayed in his room, excuses be damned. 

And yet. Rage tugs at her, her breath frosting in the air as they watch. As guilty as she felt she could not ignore his choice - he told her he loved her, and ran. She had sworn she would never let anyone do that to her. She would not look out windows for the chance to see a face. She would not weep alone, would not long for a love lost - lost not to death, but to ignorance, to pride, to fear. 

She would not suffer the fate of the Ruby. 

She clenches her strong fists, flexing her muscles in frustration. 

“There is something he did not tell me. But he told you - some of you. And now, now he is gone.”

They looked away from her, silent. Jester felt her breath grow ragged as rage flared in her chest, and she cursed in a string of Infernal, the sound causing them to all flinch in surprise.

“Do you all think I am a child?” She demanded, rounding on Veth as she stared at her. 

“What can’t you tell me! There is - there is something I don’t know, and I don’t know why. ” She growled, her voice breaking as she fought the urge to grab Veth, to hold her aloft and demand every scrap she had of him. 

Hot tears were pricking at her eyes, and she wanted to scream in frustration. Veth swallowed, her tears falling as Fjord laid a steady hand on her shoulder, crouching to comfort her as she sniffled. Jester watched as Beau moved carefully beside her, eyes wary as she held her hands out in placation. 

“Jester, it isn’t her fault. She's just being a good friend,” Beau says, Jester slapping her hand away as she turned to Beau with a snarl.

“Is she? Are you? I...I saw him. I saw him! Not all of you. You talked to him but I - “ Jester yelled before she looked away, her head pounding.

Yasha walked in front of Beau , laying her massive hands on her shoulders and gripping as Jester squirmed weakly. She fought her flush, rage and embarrassment hot and itchy against her skin. Yasha looked at her with a calming gentleness, empathy spilling from her strange eyes. Jester took a deep breath trying to calm down as Yasha gave her a sad smile and nodded. 

“I’m sorry, Jester. I know. He - he told me. And Beau.” 

Jester shook her head, her chest aching. 

“He...he told me...Everyone seems to know more than me. I’m so confused,” She confessed, Yasha’s eyes creasing in sympathy. 

“I know. I have...been where you are, before. You just have to try, Jester. Sometimes, people get scared, and they have to run away. It doesn’t mean they don’t care. They need to think, to...be alone, with it. I had to, before. Or, I thought I did. It means...they want you to find them, after. He loves you - but he is in a lot of pain. We should have been kinder,” Yasha whispered, Beau rolling her eyes behind her. 

Jester nodded weakly as she spoke, leaning her head into her hand. Yasha had been married, once. A whole life with someone - gone, but not forgotten. She shivered as she thought of Caleb, alone and even squishier than usual - mentally and physically. As much as she trusted him, she could not ignore the rush of panic as she thought of their many enemies. 

And she needed to see him. She needed to tell him the truth, the truth that she already could not imagine a world without the heady feel of his attention on her, bright mind and heart fixed on her whims. It was cruel, it was unthinkable, to have had a taste of it and see him flee. She was selfish, and she wanted him - wanted to make him selfish too. To give him what he wanted, and satisfy her own greed all the same.

She wanted to make him happy, so happy that he could barely stand it, so happy that it let him forget. For even a moment, she would be the fool everytime. 

Well. Except for this time. 

She wanted their joy to entangle as their sorrows did. She wanted to walk the strange world with him by her side, his knowing smile seeing her every crack and filling them with gold. And she wanted the same for him - to kiss every blemish, heal every wound. She knew it was impossible - she wasn’t perfect either, after all. But she wanted to try, and try, for the rest of her life. 

“I have to find him,” She breathed at last, Yasha nodding as she released her shoulders and stood.

Beau began to speak, but Fjord cut her off with a glare. Veth tried to apologize, but Jester just shook her head and smiled, the beast in her chest curling up once more. 

“It’s okay. Didn’t mean to freak out that bad, sorry guys. I...I have a plan,” She said, taking a deep breath and walking towards the door. 

The Nein part before her, and she pauses in the doorway, looking back to their concerned faces. 

“I will send you a message, once I find him. Essek will send me, and Caleb can bring us back.” She said quickly, slipping into the dark streets as the door hung open behind her. 

She sent a message as she walked, her heart pounding.

“Essek, I am coming over. I need you to help me transport somewhere,” She said curtly, the words flying as she hurried her feet. 

“Fair enough. I will see you soon then, Jester.”

She arrived at his home, knocking hard on the door. She huffed as she leaned against the doorway, stepping into the door as soon as Essek opened it slightly. She heard him cough as the door slammed into him, but he shook it off as she turned to face him, eyes determined. Essek watched her with caution, his hands held out in front of him.

Just like Beau,

“Jester, I’m sorry I -” 

She waved him aside, rolling her eyes. 

“Not that Essek, it's...it's fine , just...just shut up for a second. I need you to do something for me,” She said evenly, watching as the worry in his eyes turned to curiosity. 

He listened silently as she shook her head, pressing her hands to her temples and taking a deep breath before speaking. 

“I need you to send me to Nicodranas. You’ve been there now - send me.”

Essek nodded, his bright eyes curious as he turned, Jester following. 

“Of course. I take it you do not want me to ask why,” He said softly as they arrived in his laboratory.

Jester glared at him, sighing as he knelt and began the circle. 

“I don’t. But I’ll tell you anyway.” She said, her voice quiet against the scratching of the chalk against the cold stone - the same scratching from earlier. 

She filed the detail away as Essek raised a white eyebrow, his focus unwavering as he listened. 

“He told me loved me. And then he ran away,” She said softly, watching as Essek paused in his work. 

“And I...I lost it, a little. I was so angry. But I didn’t know why. And I...I think it's because I love him too. I think that is why I’m so angry. I couldn’t say the words, then. But he left. So,” She says brightly, smoothing her skirt.

Essek shakes his head slightly, his shoulders falling as he pauses. 

“I understand. I...I told him, as well. Though I do not think you will have the same response,” He said, giving her a sad smile. 

Jester shrugged, watching as he finished the last few runes. The circle began to glow, familiar and warm as she glanced to Essek.

“Be good to him. He deserves it,” Essek said gently, the world falling away as she fell.

She blinked as she caught her feet, opening her eyes to see the dark blue sky of twilight. Her eyes adjusted quickly, and she caught her bearings. She was near the docks, in a long alley. Essek must have sent her to the last place he recalled - unless his memory was perfect, like Caleb’s. She leaned against the dark brick, considering her options. 

She could polymorph and fly.. She didn’t have Locate Object prepared, but she could in the morning, after a good cry in her mother’s lap. The thought was tempting, but she shook it away as she listened to the familiar song of the gulls and the crashing sea. She wrinkled her nose at the filthy alley, laying her cloak down and sinking onto the cold ground. 

Caleb ran here. Why?

She leaned against the stone, studying the familiar stars. She tried to walk through his steps, wondering where he would go. 

Momma.

She realized with a grin, laughing softly. Of course he would go to Marion. She looked to the stars, trying to gauge how long he had been gone. She stood, flapping the filth from her coat.

Where would he go - after Marion? Not the Chateau - he needed to run. 

To think.

She cast disguise self, just to be safe. No good getting in trouble while she was here, especially after the shit they pulled last time. A nondescript dock worker shimmered over her appearance. She left the alley, smiling absently at the life that flowed through the city's bright streets. Happy drunks and weary bartenders were a familiar sight, and she let herself wander the streets for a moment.

She searched her memory, remembering the massive book that Caleb had bought for the city. It had seemed so boring to her - why did she need a dusty old book about Nicodranas? She lived there.

Now she knew better. Watching the others stitch conclusions together, teaming up with Veth to become half of some fine detective work. Beau had proven that information could be the most valuable thing in the world. And that information often came from very strange places - like half-stained scrolls in smut shops. 

She paused as a couple stumbled by her, a human holding a half-orc up with a wheezing laugh as they tottered to the side. She looked out to the sea, the sight a welcome balm. He had been so enchanted by it - she had been so busy with Nugget she hadn’t even noticed when he stripped and walked out into the water. Beau had pointed him out, and she had glanced for a moment, smiling at his pale still form, mouth open slightly. 

She sighed as a laugh escaped her. She grinned and headed to the shore, her heart pounding as she touched the cool sand. Where would Caleb go? 

The ocean, she thought, winding down the pale shores.

But not just anywhere. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere private. Somewhere that would be in a book, tucked away in a paragraph. 

But Nicodranas was her home - she had snuck out so many times, had ridden Blude’s shoulders on trips to the market and walked along these beaches in the morning hours when the Chateau was sleepy and closed. The city was like a playground, even more so now with the magic she wielded. 

The night had grown darker, and the beach was quiet as she made her way. She smiled as she found the boulder, climbing over easily and making her way quietly though the brush. She fought a gasp as she saw him, his face open and body bare, floating in the cove. Safe and sound, relaxing in the most secluded place he had been able to find. She let herself watch him for a few moments, leaning against a tree as she took in his peaceful expression. 

She still wasn’t sure what to say, even as she felt her worry relax at the sight of him. But it was too late to plan now, and besides - their plans never seemed to work out anyway. She waited another long moment as she watched him, a blush filling her cheeks. 

Time to be brave, Lavorre, she thought, letting her feet carry her out of the dense jungle and closer to him, her heartbeat in her ears. 

Chapter Text

.

He felt his feet hit familiar stone, stumbling as he tried to catch his breath. 

They had gotten too close, those fucking fools, they could’ve gotten hurt - 

The door opens, and the exasperation on the goblin’s face fades to recognition. He had always been polite, but since the Happy Fun Ball the formal butler had...lightened up a bit. Caleb suspected that Willy had been incredibly helpful to Yussah - and Wensforth. Caleb nodded politely as he put his hands on his knees, heaving in breath. 

If Wensforth was concerned he didn’t show it - they had showed up worse, he supposed. He waved him through, satisfied when he said he was merely visiting the city, and no, he did not need to speak with Yussah of all people -

He climbed the long steps before a door appeared, and passed through the bright streets of Nicodranas. He ducked into an alley, casting disguise self. He couldn’t be recognized - not now, not here, not when his heart was trying to escape his chest. 

The way was so familiar now, the bright amber-glow of the magical lights coming into sight. It was far too easy for his disguise to gain entry, and he allowed himself a hint of pride. He ordered a neat whiskey and sat at an empty table, letting the familiar burn of the liquor settle his nerves slightly.

Marion was stunning as ever, flitting from table to table with an ease and grace that he envied. A Master Performer - but one who enjoyed it, rather than being forced to. Pleasure for money and pleasure for pleasure, because the work was strange and beautiful, an exchange of time and energy directly to the soul and body, a drop of love or a drop of lust, or something closer to a mother, in some cases - a friend.

He had studied courtesans, in his training. He admired them - as a half-groomed Honeypot he knew the strength that it took. But the joy in it - of helping another person. Of healing, of heart or longing or simply an ear. The joy he had not been able to learn. Only the high it gave him, to control another with nothing more than words. 

But that was Bren. And Bren was dead. 

She came close to his table, her lilting voice warm in his ear. He shifted as she came close, inclining his head. She was at work, she was working so hard - he shouldn’t be here. 

“Hello - you look new here,” 

And the Ruby of the Sea stood before him, resplendent. She wore a slinking gown, jet black silk slipping against her smooth red skin. Her hair was down, long curls framing her beautiful face, glowing golden eyes warm on his. She really was stunning - he tried not to stare, but he knew she wouldn't mind. 

“Hallo, Frau Lavorre. I - I apologize. I am wearing a disguise, I -” 

Her eyes grew wide, and he watched as a smile took her face fully, a hand going to her throat in a familiar motion. So different from his mother, and yet the same smile, the same love. She softened in recognition, her perfect posture easing ever so slightly as she looked down at him. 

“I can say something to, ah, confirm myself if I need to - when I first met you I was a filthy mess, and ah -” 

She chuckled, sitting down in the open chair beside him. A sigh rung out around them as the Ruby stopped, some looking on enviously. She leaned in close, holding her shoulders back - good, don’t hunch, too informal, they will suspect something . 

She searched his face, a bemused smile over perfect white teeth. Her fangs were a bit longer than Jester’s - Mairon’s features were sharper, angular and heightened like Molly had been. Jester was beautiful, her bright eyes and soft lips set in ocean-skin. Dark blue hair like spilled ink, dark blue scattered freckles like paint strewn from a brush.

But Marion was like something out of a legend, perfection on a level almost unnerving. He had never been alone with her, especially not when she was working. Her spell was strong, and he wondered again how much they did not know about her. He had read legends of Bards so powerful they could sway anyone, man, woman - even tales of dragons charmed by the power of Bards. 

“Hello, Caleb Widogast.” She said with a smile, her eyes looking beside and behind him.

“I take it my daughter is not with you.”

He stilled, his panic roaring back into his ears. 

“No, I ah - I actually want to talk with you, if I can I - I know you are working I am so, ah -” 

Her face grew soft, and he watched as her shoulders dropped a bit, her eyes wise and playful.

“Caleb. My daughter talks to me - almost every night.”

Caleb felt the color drain from his face.

“Frau Lavorre, I -” 

She chuckled and cut him off, standing and holding his hands in hers, nodding at Blude as they ascended the stairs, a hush going through the crowd as she disappeared off a side chamber. He followed behind her dumbly, and his mind filled with his mother, pulling him up. They entered familiar chambers, and the Ruby sat across from him, reaching for a robe that she wrapped around herself. He dropped his disguise, Mairon sighing across from him as he came into view. 

“She was not lying. You look...a little rough, honestly,” She said with a chuckle, leaning towards him before sitting back, her eyes soft. 

He felt a laugh escape him, running a hand through his hair. The tie loosens, and he wraps the thin leather around his wrist as he resisted the urge to scratch at his arms.

“That is generous of you. I am...well,” 

He raised his eyes to hers as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees as his hands hung useless in his lap. His heart was so loud in his ear, as though it were making up for lost time, as though it was working desperately to prove that he was alive. 

“Don’t be afraid of me, Caleb. I apologize, I merely wanted to let you know I believed you. She has...told me nothing bad .” Marion says gently, smiling at him. 

He breathes a sigh of relief, and laughs again at himself, at talking to an adult about a crush, like he is a child again. 

And that person is her mother. 

And the most famous Courtesan in the Continents, he realizes with a blush.

“I...I will just say it all, because my mind is running from me. You know I died?” 

Marion blinks and nods hesitantly - unnerved by the casual tone. 

“Yes. I ah, knew that,” She says, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Well, your daughter, Jester brought me back and ah, she was. She is incredible, but you know this, you know this and ah - I love her, Frau Lavorre.” He says in a rush, heat filling his face as he covers his face in his hands. 

Marion grows still, before laughing softly, leaning to place her forehead to his. He jumps at the contact, opening his eyes to see her perfectly manicured hands on his knees. Her smell surrounds him - expensive perfume, spicy and heady, with an undercurrent of sandalwood and...cinnamon.

“That is good news, Caleb Widogast! The more the merrier,” She said with a wink, sitting back in her chair and patting his knee. 

He looked up, aghast as her eyes twinkled at him. She shook her head, her silken hair falling in soft waves before she grabbed two sticks beside her table and expertly twisted the long locks before inserting them, her hair drawn back from her beautiful face. He stared at her dumbly, confused as she began to speak. 

“I cannot speak for others. But I do not think you have reason to fear, Caleb. I wondered, when she was little - would I ever sit across from someone as they told me they loved her? Some dashing person to take her away on her own adventures? I did, as all mothers do. But I did not expect this,” She said softly. 

“I...did not either. I am...I’m sorry,” He said shakily, lowering his eyes to the floor. 

She sat up across from him, and he could see the confusion now in her eyes. 

“Why?” 

He shook his head, loose hair curtaining his face. He was still unsure if she was playing with him or not - her smile was far too easy, her posture too relaxed. He steeled himself for whatever came, letting the words go. 

“I am….I am not good for her. I am sure you want more for your daughter,” 

Marion lifted his chin, her skin warm against his. He felt the press of her long nails against his chin as she held him in her grasp. She searched his face expertly, before shaking her head, a pitying smile on her face. 

“You are very stupid for such a smart man, Caleb.” Marion said levvelly, leaning back against the chair, releasing him, her expression wry.

He felt like he had played a bad move in chess, like a punch to the chin. 

She is telling the truth, he realized, the insight stilling him. 

“What more could a mother want, Caleb? You have saved her life more than I know. You bring her home to me, as often as you can. You are handsome, and kind, and I have seen you perform magic beyond my imagining. And now she has saved your life. Which I would love to hear more about, really - and she - she does not say everything,” Marion says, her eyes softening. 

She looks like Una, and it hurts, it hurts because they are time and space away, but there is the same love in her eyes that was there in hers. His breath hitches, and he feels the world spin again, the new gravity stronger, sharper, but comforting. A weight, like a heavy quilt on a cold night. Jester’s thoughtful face comes to him once more, watching though his eyelashes as she stared at him. Her fearful face as he stormed away, the white glow of transportation magic against her glittering tattoos. 

She does not say everything. 

He had wondered before, if the bubbly girl was a mask to be worn, the girl who sang as she was captured beneath the ground, who smiled even as she wiped tears from her face. The eyes that held his, vice-like, as she stood across from and held his rough hands in her cool grasp. 

Marion smiled as she watched his face, and he could see - between the effortless grace of Marion and the precise performance of the Gentleman, Jester was a master. 

“I know. But...surely,”

Marion shook her head, reaching forward to take his hands in hers. He straightened his spine as she rubbed his hands, her skin so much warmer than Jester’s. 

“No one can fully know someone’s heart. Even they themselves. But my daughter understands more than she lets on. She loves to play - loves to study people, to see what they do just for the joy of it. She gets that from me. She will let herself be a fool for everyone, just for the fun. She knows that it doesn’t matter, because she knows the truth. Because in her heart, my Jester is wise. And wisdom is the soul of love, Caleb. Something I think you are familiar with,” She says gently, her words carefully spoken. 

Caleb feels himself still, silence stretching in the room. Marion lets it sit, her hands gentle on his. He feels his pulse calm, and he lets his head fall forward, Marion chuckling across from him. 

“You must speak with her yourself, Caleb. I will not reveal anything, out of respect to my daughter. But...have hope, Caleb. You will find no fury from the Ruby of the Sea,” She says with a wink. 

He laughs, the glimmer of the ocean catching his eye in the window. 

“Thank you, Frau Lavorre. I have so much I want to say but, ah, I think it would be foolish and I -” 

“Need to talk to Jester,” She finishes with a smile, raising her eyebrows. 

He chuckles nervously, and nods, standing. She watches him with a smile, rising and setting aside her robe, bending in front of a mirror to check her makeup. She grabs a lipstick, touching up before setting it aside and looking at him in the mirror. 

“Take some time and think, Caleb. But not too much time,” She says, brandishing a brush at him in warning. 

He holds up his hands and she grins, turning from the vanity. She becomes the Ruby once more, removing the robe and smoothing her gown as her shoulders rise to carry her fine figure. 

“Now, I am afraid I must get back to my evening and you,” She said with a wink, taking the sticks from her hair and adjusting the curls. 

“ - have a few things to do,” She finished, smiling and turning back, opening the door and waving him through. 

He blushed, and donned his disguise once more, slipping away in a side door and back into the streets.

He walked towards the sea, his perfect memory not allowing him to wander, to lose himself as he so desired. He knew every street of this city, from his visits and from the book - the history of the city he had procured. He had told himself that he was being responsible, after all - surely they should know every in and out of a city they operate personally and professionally in? 

He told himself that, he realized as the sea came into view over a hill - close to the first bakery ever established in the city, which had been part of the first initial settlement. The unveiling waves seemed quieter in the dark, without the crash of voices and ships. He grew closer - to the North beach, the second most popular - with a secret cove that was unknown to most. His feet arrived at the end of the last block, sighing as the sea stretched, raw and deep blue, gentle waves lapping the shore. 

It was another lie that he had given himself. He wanted to know the city for her - to know more of the soul that had fascinated him. 

How long have I loved her? 

He sighed at the sight, the same awe that overcame him before gripping at his chest. Something about the endlessness of it. The play of the light on the shallows, white sand beneath making the water look like glass, like a perfect mirror of the glowing orange lights of the city behind him, fading to inky blackness beneath the bright stars and full moon. So alien to what he had ever known, but so like the waves of grain undulating around him. 

A sea of my own, almost as hard to escape.

His feet sink into the white sand, and he walks along the shore, hands in his pockets as he follows the shadows, eluding couples on late night walks, ambitious dog walkers and a few aggressive birds. He followed the path, and at the third largest boulder he struggled over the top. He summoned his lights to float above and behind him and walked a few hundred feet in the jungle before a cove opened.

The ocean was in a line before him, the stars twinkling over the short creek as the waves lapped gently at the white banks. The crystal water was shallow, and blue even in the pale glow of his lights. A small beach greeted him in the shell of a cave, the white granite glittering in the bright starlight. The whole place was about fifty meters wide, concealed by thick vegetation above and the overhang of the cave. 

Pretty good for a secret cove. 

He explored for a few minutes before sitting in the sand, staring down the line of the cove to the ocean ahead. He released the disguise and his loose hair fell into his face. Her eyes filled his mind, piercing and concerned. 

Have they told her anything? Did they spill like Veth did, like Yasha did, like I did, over and over - 

He cursed and stood quickly, ripping at his clothes and stringing an alarm spell around his belongings before jumping into the water. He gasped at the cool embrace of it on his skin, and he swam to the bottom of the cove. He sat in the sand, feeling the press of the water. The sting in his eyes was welcome as he looked to the world above. The weight was comforting, even as he felt his lungs begin to burn. He watched the light play on his pale skin, the burning in his chest reminding him that he was very alive. 

He pushed off the bottom and took a deep breath, treading water in the center of the shallow cove as he looked to the stars. They winked back at him, beautiful if unhelpful. He relaxed his muscles and floated on his back, his chest rising and falling as it took in air greedily. The night was warm against his wet skin, and he closed his eyes, feeling the sensations across his body.

Hope, she had said. 

Jester spoke to her mother every day, or at least she tried to. Before they went to bed, she would sit and send messages, her face lighting up as they responded. He hadn’t seen her do that in the last few days - it made sense that she had spoken to Marion. But she was...happy. She was...encouraging. She said…

“Cay-leb!” 

He sputtered, falling in the water as Jester’s voice echoed in the cave. He watched with wide eyes as she stepped into the cove, her bright violet eyes reflective in the light of his spell. He blushed and killed the lights, sinking his body below the water and peering at her. Jester rolled her eyes at him as she stood on the bank, her light dress blowing softly in the breeze.

“I’ve seen you naked before, Caleb. And I have darkvision but whatever ,” She huffed, squinting at him in the dark as her eyes adjusted.

Sheisse. 

He looked to her dark form, heart hammering in his chest. She had found him so quickly. His eyes adjusted and he watched, breathless as she began to strip off her clothes, her form stepping into the water. In the dark of night she was still half in shadow, her eyes reflecting in the thin moonlight as her tattoo glimmered. She walked to her waist in the water and crouched down, looking to him. Waiting. 

He took her que and swam to the shore, sighing as she came into view. He kneeled in the sand a few feet before her, and they stared for a moment before looking away, the sudden intimacy staining his cheeks in a blaze of blood. The water rose to their chests as they regarded each other, the only sound the soft shifting of the water and the dull crush of waves. 

“I...asked Essek to transport me. Then I thought - where would Caleb go? The Chateau? Maybe. But the beach - he loved the beach. But he’s scared. He wants to get away. But, he probably wouldn’t want to go far. So where is the best place in Nicodranas near the Chateau to get away?” She asks, a smile pulling at her cheek.

He shakes his head, smiling at the way her hair is slicked back, her horns proud and curling. The water shines against her blue skin, like an extension of the sea. 

“She does not say everything,”

“You truly are a great detective, Jester Lavorre,” He said quietly, smiling as she laughed, the sound echoing off the cave. 

“Good enough to find you,” She said, her eyes flashing in the dark.

“Jester, I - “

She stops him, swimming forward and placing a finger over his lips. 

“I want to know the truth. About everything,” She says evenly, her eyes bright.

He suppresses a shiver at her gaze, nodding as she takes her hand away. He waits, unsure, watching as her mouth twists. 

“What could Veth not tell me, Caleb?” She asked, her soft voice like a brick to the head.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing on the cool slide of the water against his flesh. 

“When I died, Jester - I went somewhere,” He says, raising his eyes to hers. 

She looks stricken, but calm, her chin level as she waits for him to continue. He remembers Marion’s words, and presses ahead. Her eyes study him carefully, and he watches as she raises her hands in the water towards him. He takes them, and her cool skin is like a current, wrapping around his long fingers and holding him steady. 

“I woke up under a tree. And I heard screams, voices in the distance. I was in Blumenthal - where I grew up. I saw smoke, and walked to a chimney, and in front of my childhood home was my mother.”

Jester blinks, sadness flashing across her face. 

“She took me in, and we talked for a bit. About...my life. Their life - what they could tell me. And then, my father came home,” He said, her face falling further.

“We all talked, then. I told them about my time at the academy. About the scars. About you all. You, especially,” He says breathlessly, watching as her eyes grow wide. 

“We also spoke about...how I murdered them, Jester.” He says, the words falling like rocks from his mouth. 

Her violet go wider for a moment before her brow knits in concern, her hands gripping his. The silence stretches as she searches his face, and she looks so like her mother that it’s almost deja vu. Her fingers squeeze his tightly.

“How?” She says, her voice gentle.

He closes her eyes, the hate on her face unbearable, the whiplash that will be the breaking of this spell.

“I burned them alive. Astrid poisoned her parents. Eodwulf had...his own method. I shoved a cart in front of the door and cast Firebolt. When...when I heard them screaming I broke. Snapped. I burned Astrid in my haze and was sent to the asylum - the one we visited. Eleven years,”

He hears a gasp from her, and squeezes his eyes tightly, pressing ahead. She had not let go of his hands. His grip was slack and shaking, but she kept it strong within her grasp. 

“There was a woman - she had brief spells where she would be sane before just...going mad again. But one day she touched me and she - she took it all away. I had my mind again and I - I realized that certain memories had been false, planted by Trent. But I still did it. I wanted to. I wanted to.” 

He opened his eyes to find silent tears streaking down Jester’s face. She shook her head slightly, and met his eyes. Keep going, her eyes said. 

“I ran. I killed a guard, and took this amulet off him. I was alone, for a long time. Then, I met Nott. Sometime a while after that, a blue tiefling told me I needed a bath,” He said, giving her a brittle smile. 

She grinned, taking a deep breath. His jaw fell open as she pulled him closer, his knees skidding in the sand. Her eyes were deep wells, and he watched worry and wonder chase each other before affection creased her round face. She raised a hand to cup his cheek, resting the other on his bare shoulder. 

“And look at you now,” She said grandly, gesturing at the cove and flicking water at his face, a sarcastic smile on her face as sadness flashed in her bright eyes.

He laughed, the sound playing off the rocks. She shook her head, her eyes easing at his laugh. She returned her hand to his neck, her thumb running down the span of his throat. He lost himself in the sensation, his eyes falling shut. 

“Caleb,” She says softly.

He opens his eyes, and her face is bare before him. The light glints off the water to paint her eyes in neon, and the glitter of her tattoo is almost burning in the moonlight.

“Ja?”

“Can I hold you?” She whispers.

He watches her, the blistering eye contact flaying raw what's left of his soul. He nods dumbly, hands trembling as she wraps her bare body against his. 

The press of her skin against his is overwhelming. She feels like cool, living velvet, the heady pulse of her heart strong against his. Her strong arms wrap easily around his back, and her soft breasts press against the planes of his chest. She gasps against him, and her breath against his neck sends a shiver down his spike, his long arms wrap around to grip her powerful shoulders. They hold each other, the world fading away. 

The only thing he can hear is the beat of her heart, only a few inches of bone and flesh from his. Her smooth skin against his is electric, and he fights a groan as her fingers brush down his back. 

“I was right,” She murmurs against his chest.

He looks down at her, unwilling to release her as she looks up at him with a clever smile. 

“This is what it felt like. When I held you. When I brought you back.” She says softly, arching her neck. 

The moon glitters against the water scattered across her blue skin. Her eyes shine with satisfaction and curiosity, and there is a dare on her full lips. She has bested him, in a game of metaphysical stakes. She has pursued him to the other end of the world, only to ensnare him fully, her revenge and reward in one fell swoop.

“You’re right,” He says quickly, before reaching to cup her head and press a kiss to her lips. 

She leans up to him, and he sinks to meet her, wrapping her in his arms as the waves lap at them weakly. They surface at last, both panting. They lock eyes and begin to laugh, the sound playing off the cliffs. He pulls her close, the sensation of her body overwhelming. He sighs as she draws shapes across his back, the lapping waves and her touch hypnotizing. 

After one minute and three seconds she pulls away, smiling as she shakes her head.

“I’m going to call that my first kiss, way better than the other one,” She says with a grin as she shakes her head at him, cheeks flushed.

He smiles, letting his head fall on her shoulder. She threads her hand through his hair, dragging the strands slowly in her fingers, watching as he closes his eyes at the sensation, the way it pulls at his skin. 

“It’s okay, Caleb. It wasn’t your fault, and I - I would love you even if it was,” She said quickly. 

He went still against her shoulder, and she gripped him tightly, her hand pulling at his hair to tug him to her sight. He fought a squeak at the pull, his cheeks flushing as she fixed her bright eyes on him, satisfaction in her smile. 

“Because that isn’t you. You babysat Nugget, and you play pranks on Fjord, and you always listen to my stupid plans even when I know they won’t work,” She says with a laugh, sliding her hand down to pat his cheek, her thumb brushing over the sharp bone.

“When you were dead...I never want to go through that again. I learned love from books and daydreams. And you...your first love was...complicated. But when I held you in that place I felt - I felt something close to what I feel now. This is...easy, and warm, and fun, and not like anything I thought it would be,” She said, raising her head. 

He felt his heart clench, bitterness close on his tongue. 

“There is so much more Jester. There is so much, and I don’t…”

She ran a thumb across his throat, the sharp nail dragging over the skin. 

“I know. But I am willing to be there for you. You’re worth it, Caleb. Even on your worst days. Because I know you will do the same for me, Caleb. Because you already have. We all have baggage. Yours is just...maybe a little heavier.”

He laughs, leaning his head on her shoulder. 

“And I don’t know if you know but I’m like, really strong.” She said cockily, and he smiled, the fear weak in the face of her, bare and glittering in his arms. 

“You aren’t the only one telling lies,” She said softly, and he felt his heart drop.

“You all think I’m...well, maybe not you. But I never said how old I am. I...I didn’t want to. Not once we started travelling. When I learned how old Veth and Beau are,” She said nervously, looking to the side. 

He stroked her back, trying to soothe her in the same way. 

“I’m twenty six, Caleb. When people asked I just didn’t want to say. You’ve all done so much! Veth is a mom, Yasha was married and Beau -”

Caleb held her close, shaking his head.

“I think that is really...nothing compared to my lies, liebling. Or even the lies our friends have told. The past is past. You are Jester, powerful and wonderful and strange. And I am...Caleb. And I love you.” He said, breathless.

She smiled against his chest, sighing as she snuggled against him.

“I want to do this, Caleb. If you aren’t ready, if you don’t want to, I understand. But you need to tell me, Caleb. Because you can’t do it - you won’t make me stop loving you. But we have to agree. You have to let me - and you have to let yourself,” She says gently.

He feels his heart clench, and she smiles as it pounds beneath her ear. He feels the gravity shift him once more, feels her cool skin beside his. The idea of loving her, really loving her like she deserves. The idea of loving - of forgiving - himself. To know not only that she would never send him from her side, but longed for him there. To see her in the street, to walk with her under the trees, to lay beside her at night and know that she loves him, loves him enough to see him and find nothing wanting.

What if the pain is worth it? What if it could be?

“I would...I would be honored. Anything you want of me, I will be grateful.” 

She laughed, arching her neck for another kiss, giggling against his eager lips.

“I was thinking boyfriend, not servant. But that can be arranged, ” She says with a wink, her cheeks flushed violet. 

He stares at her, mouth open as she presses a kiss to it, sitting back and winding a possessive hand into his wet hair. He lets a desperate sound escape his chest at her strong fingers, and she grins devilishly, her fangs sharp and gleaming. 

“I love you too, Caleb Widogast,” She says softly, a wide smile on her blue lips, her hand strong on his neck. 

He shakes his head, dumbfounded as he lunges forward and kisses her deeply, her giggle like sweet music against him as she pulls him close, the sound echoing in the glittering cove.

Chapter Text

Jester smiled against the scarred skin of his shoulder, breathing him in. 

The salt water held them aloft easily, and she hummed into the sensation of his warm skin against hers. She let her head swim, reeling against the litany of sparks and runaway thoughts that ran wild in her mind. 

There were feelings there - desire, hunger, and new - possession . She pulled her sharp nails against his damp scalp, his thin torso secure against her strong arms. He groaned into the pressure, and she released a hum of satisfaction at his rough voice. 

She remembered Trent’s foul face with a rush of rage, and pulled him closer, Caleb sighing in her ear. The old man had filled her with revulsion, his twisted words stealing Caleb’s smile. 

If you don’t kill him, I will, she thought, her strong hands itching with violence. 

But more than that was peace - peace that settled in her chest like a dog curling up for a nap. The exhaustion of the last few days caught up with her, and she sagged into his embrace, pressing her face into his shoulder as he chuckled weakly.

“I know you’re exhausted, Caleb.” She said softly, her lip catching on a long-healed scar.

She let her lips rest there, skin warm and salty. He sagged a little more in her arms, resting his sharp chin on her head. She ghosted her lips over the scars, narrow and pale - an arrow, she thinks. All of their bodies are littered with the little slashing lines, remnants of endless skirmishes. She glances over him, and she can remember some of them - a glaive in a dungeon, the arrows those stupid bandits filled him with - and a new one, still pink and angry at his side. 

“I am. If you let me I could sleep here for...well, I could die here honestly,” He said, a smile in his voice as she scratched his damp scalp with her sharp nails. 

She smiled and leaned back, slapping his cheek weakly as he grinned sleepily at her. She took a moment to take him in, her gaze uninterrupted. He was handsome, in a more delicate way than in her books. The sharp planes of his cheekbones cast a slight hollow down his moonlit, pale skin. Wet, bright red hair was slicked down his skull, the color darkened with water against his long neck. She pulled at a strand, noting the slight curl that was beginning to set at the ends where they dried. 

She reached up a hand to trace the hard lines of his jaw, a long triangle forming at the junction of jaw and cheekbone. Stubble was rough under her hands, the same dark color as his wet hair. She ran her thumb over the dimple in his chin, smiling as he sighed into her touch. His nose was strong, with a slight bump in the middle. Even, expressive brows framed his closed eyes, eyes that opened as she brushed her thumbs across his thin, pink lips. 

And there they were - the most arresting blue, the same color as the Nicodranas sea. He watched her with rapt attention, his mouth opening slightly.

Those eyes that she had seen flare with magic more times than she could count. Eyes that alit with joy at dusty books and new challenges. Eyes that followed her before darting away. Eyes that had blown wide when she had pushed air into his thin chest with her mouth, fighting a laugh as he spluttered and coughed. She had ignored the rush that she had felt then, the possessive satisfaction of watching his white skin flush from her lips.  

Those eyes now held hers, unwavering as he raised gentle hands to her face. She shivered at his flame-calloused thumbs as they arched over her freckle strewn cheeks, her button nose, her full lips. She giggled as he reached up to run his fingers along her curling horns before tracing the point of an ear, the chain jingling slightly. A sigh escaped her as he ran long fingers through her wet hair, pushing the dark strands from her face. 

She committed it to memory, the play of light across his half lidded eyes, the smell of the salt water. She moved a hand to his neck, feeling the fervent pulse under her palm. She was loathe to break the spell as his thumb made its way to brush over her bottom lip, the skin rough against the plush flesh. 

“No more dying for you, Caleb,” She said softly, watching as his face creased into a sad smile. 

“I will do my best to obey, Lavorre,” He responded.

She bit her lip, his eyes moving to her mouth as her fangs appeared. She felt a rush of desire at his words, and she tightened her grip in his hair and against his neck. He gasped and let his head lean back into her grip, and she grinned. His eyes grew wide as the moonlight glinted off her bared fangs, and she realized gleefully that she was not the only one wanting. 

She would pursue that - later. She would crack him open and lay him bare, melt him under her cool hands. She would see just how red she could turn him, feel his fire against her cool skin. She would force those clever eyes closed and silence his beautiful brain, removing all thought that was not hers, all misery that was not the sweet ache of her hands wringing his body and soul out like a wet towel after a long bath. 

She trailed her hand along his arm, the slight muscle lean beneath the skin. He had filled out a bit, in the time they had travelled together. Though thin, he was not the same emaciated waif that she had seen at the bathhouse in Zadash, his chest almost concave with long starved hunger, ribs showing as he breathed. 

The scars of his youth were bright in the white light, arching across his flesh. She pushed down the fury that rose in her throat as her fingers roved over them. The possession flared again, hot and furious.

I will never let them touch you again. 

His hands mirrored hers, slipping from her diamond studded shoulders down her muscled arms. His touch was gentle, fingers skimming over her flesh like she was something precious, something unreal. She rested her hand against his sharp jaw, letting her grip fall to his neck. 

“Oh, I will make you obey me - another day,” She said, giving him a wicked grin as she squeezed his neck playfully.

He shivered beside her and shook his head, shock and amusement playing across his sharp face. She drank in the sight of his pupils blown wide, lips bruised and plump from her mouth. Soft pink bloomed on his cheeks like roses, and she smiled as she traced the hot skin with her thumb. 

“I look forward to it,” He said, a broad smile taking her breath. 

She shook her head and gathered herself, patting his cheek. 

“Come on Caleb, you need to sleep.” She said gently, rising and pulling him up.

She laughed at his fresh blush as she stood, but followed, letting her lead him to the cave. She stretched and winked at his wide eyes, taking in the long lines of his body as water dripped onto the stone. She giggled as he stared, laughing as he looked away, face flushed once more. She laid her cloak on the stone and pulled on her shift, watching as he clumsily pulled on his trousers. 

She sat on the cloak and patted the spot beside her, raising her eyebrows. He grinned, laughing as he sat behind her, taking her in his arms. She let herself melt into the warmth of his chest, skin to skin where the straps of her shift gave way. He nuzzled her neck as she giggled, resting his hands on her forearms as he leaned into her. She took his hands in hers, exploring them as she traced and turned. 

She read their stories in his skin - the slash across the palm from that stupid shrine, the cruel slashes across the back of his hands from arrows and daggers. The tips of his fingers were rough, stubborn burns and callouses from their life. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the waves crest lazily in the secluded cove. He leaned into her, his bare torso warm and solid behind her. She laughed as his hair tickled her neck, his hands limp in her grasp. 

“Do you want to go back to Roshona?” He said, his soft voice echoing in the cavern. 

She thought for a moment and shook her head, pulling his hands tighter and winding his fingers with her. She needed more time , time with his warm skin and watchful eyes, his attention and his heart secure in her grip. Tomorrow there would be questions, and they would require answers - from both of them. She did not want to think of the storm brewing when Beau got her hands on him, or the guilty eyes of Veth. 

This is...a dream, she realized, letting her head fall against his chest. 

She pulled him closer, chasing the feel of his skin against hers as his lanky arms held her tightly. He pulled their joined hands to her chest, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. He seemed to understand, and she wondered again what he was thinking. He seemed to feel as she did, his relieved breath soft against her ear.

“Tomorrow. Can we sleep here?” She asked, turning to look at him. 

She felt her heart clench with the love she found there, open and gentle. 

I want to see that face for the rest of my life.

“Ja. Let me set up the dome, just in case,” He said, kissing her neck.

She pouted as he released her, smiling as he rolled his eyes. She watched as he pulled his bag closer, rummaging through and finding his materials. Jester stretched as she watched the moonlight play over his skin, the freckled strewn shoulders pale and lean. She scrambled to her bag and grabbed her sketchbook, pulling it back to the cloak and cracking it open. 

Caleb saw, his bright eyes glancing at her through a curtain of red, salt waved hair. He gave her a soft smile, and she returned it as she felt a blush take her face. He returned to his work with a bemused smile, and she snapped to work as she roughed out his poses, sketching furiously.

His body was so different from hers - sharp lines moved with precision as he crouched and began to write the intricate symbols, his pale focused eyes rising to hers and blushing as he looked away. Before long the dome spread above them, clear as air.

She set her book aside as he sat down beside her and pressed a kiss to his cheek, giggling as he smiled at her. She laid on the cloak, pulling him down. He was still for a moment before he relaxed, laying his head on her chest and letting his hands rest on her stomach. She threaded a hand through his hair, relishing the warmth of his skin through her thin shift. 

His breath started to even, and she watched as his body sagged against hers. She suddenly realized she had forgot to send a message, and she sighed in frustration.

“Was Liebe?” He murmured against her skin, voice rough. 

She felt her heart swell and smiled as his eyes opened partially to look at her. 

“I forgot to send a message - I told Beau I would let her know when I found you. I got a little distracted,” She said with a blush, Caleb smiling into her skin. 

“Ja, me too,” He murmured.

She thought for a moment, rolling her eyes as he chuckled.

“Usually you would have sent three by now,” 

She slapped his cheek playfully, his satisfied grin sending another flare up her spine. She concentrated and summoned the spell, trying to ignore his giggles against her shoulder. He watched as she spoke, a contented smile on his face. 

“Hey Beau. I found him, he’s okay. We’re staying in Nicrodranas, we’ll be back tomorrow.”

She listened for a response, running her hands through his drying hair. She had never seen him so calm. He sagged against her, his slight weight comforting as his long body slotted against hers. Her head grew fuzzy again, the heat of his bare skin against hers overwhelming.

“Little fucker. Thanks Jess. Stay safe. See you both tomorrow - don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,”

Jester laughed, closing her eyes as she felt the magic ebb. She looked back at Caleb as he watched her, his bright eyes half lidded. Curling hair was strewn across his forehead and face, and she brushed the strands aside, her chest clenching in affection. 

“Lets get some sleep, Caleb,” she said, feeling suddenly exhausted. 

He nodded against her and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. She felt him snuggle closer, long fingers splayed across her bare thigh. She wound a hand through his hair, pressing the other to his back as she let sleep slowly take her. 

She slept deeply, waking to the soft scratching of pen against paper. She listened for a moment, enjoying the familiar sounds of the early gulls, the cool darkness of the cave. Her eyes snapped open as she remembered the night before and sat up straight, Caleb’s coat falling off where it had been draped across her. 

The scratching stopped, and Jester looked to her side where Caleb sat, his book - his journal - open in his crossed lap. The cave was softly lit by three of his orbs, floating around his hands. Looking down the cove she could see the early rays cresting on the dark ocean, scattered silver coils blending to gold as the sun made its journey. 

Caleb smiled and reached out a hand to rub her shoulder, and she slowly lay back down. He laughed as she wormed her way close and laid her head in his lap. She smiled as he set the book aside, running a hand through her hair. She tucked her head close to his bare abdomen, grinning as a blush flared from his face to his torso. She sighed into the sensation as he gently pulled through her hair, his other hand drawing runes on her arm. 

“Guten Morgen, blueberry,” He said, voice rough with sleep. 

She turned her head to grin at him, affection aching in her chest. How long had she loved him? How long has his heart revolved around her own? 

“Guten Morgen, Caleb,” She responded, running a hand along his back. 

“Do I get to hear Zemnian all the time now? Because I would like that,” She said, watching as a fond smile pulled at his face.

“Anytime, liebe. I can teach you, if you would like. Perhaps you could teach me Infernal,” He suggested, beginning to weave a haphazard braid at her crown. 

She wiggled in delight, imagining Caleb’s smooth voice twisting into the hard consonants and gutturals of Infernal. 

“I would love that. Then momma would have someone to speak it with too!” She said with a smile. 

Caleb shook his head, his face fond as he gently tugged her hair into place. 

“That is true. I...should probably speak to her,” He said with a wistful smile.

“You went to see her last night, didn’t you?” She asked.

His face fell a little, the smile embarrassed. 

“I did. I made a fool of myself, but she was...so kind. She told me exactly what I needed. She...she gave me hope.” He said softly, taking his hands from her hair to cup her face. 

She reached her own to cover his, taking a deep breath and watching as he did the same, narrow chest rising and falling. She had rarely been speechless in her life, but words were hard to find. All she knew was that momma was about to start getting some amazing presents. She blinked a few times, taking another breath and shaking at the weight of his eyes. 

“...she’s good at that. Come on, let’s go see her,” She said, turning to kiss his hand and rolling to her knees, her heart hammering as she felt a dumb grin pull on her cheeks. 

They gathered their things, Jester tugging on her dress as Caleb unfolded his shirt and coat, tugging them on and running a hand through his hair, pulling it into a low tie. She walked forward to gaze out at the cove, Caleb standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her middle. Caleb’s braid was clumsy, but it held as the early wind tugged at them, the breeze cool on her bare neck. The world was slowly filling with light, the city waking behind them as the birds sang, a familiar symphony echoing off the white cliffs. 

“We should build a house here,” She says absently, Caleb’s grip tightening as he kisses her shoulder, fire arching across her skin. 

“Anything you desire, blueberry,” He said with a smile. 

She laughed, leaning back to look up at him. A few bright strands framed his eyes, alight with play, and something else. She almost believed him, the easy conviction in his smile almost cocky as he looked down at her with a crooked smile.

“You may regret that, someday,” She said, patting his arm and walking forward, gripping his hand in hers as he followed. 

She looked back to see his impossible grin as he looked at her, his fingers gripping hers. His eyes were...easy. Joyous. She had never seen him like this. She hadn’t ever wanted to leave Caleb before - but now the thought of being away from him made her...afraid. She took a deep breath as she considered the sight before her - momma said she knew the look of a man in love. Jester knew what she meant as he smiled at her easily, his shoulders loose and mouth open. 

“Fur dich, alles,” He said softly, and she shook her head and blushed, making a mental note to find a book on Zemnian, or better yet, just ask Artagan for a favor. 

She turned away quickly and yanked him forward, grinning at his sudden laugh. Someday, she had said. She tried to imagine a someday without Caleb in it, and her heart turned cold. She gripped his hand tighter, marvelling at the way her heart hammered in her chest. 

They make their way out of the forest hand in hand. Jester almost throws Caleb over the boulder, laughing until she cries at his wide eyes and offended squawk. She climbs over deftly and lands by him, wiping her eyes at his dirt smeared face. She wipes his face with the hem of her dress, giggling as he squints at her in mock irritation. 

The beach greets them, the dull roar of the ocean comforting as they walk along the shore. Jester smiles at the other couples, her mind whirling from the fact that she is one of them. As the beach ends she leads him up a rough hewn rock and wood staircase, eventually climbing to see the city laid open before them, climbing white walled buildings and bright fabric banners illuminated in the pink sunrise. 

She pulls him into an alley and presses a kiss to his surprised mouth, grinning as he recovers, his mouth warm on hers as she pulls away. 

“Do you want to have some fun?” She asks with a raised eyebrow. 

He smiles and shrugs, eyes bright.

“With you, always.” 

She winks and shifts into a sparrow (blue, of course) and cawing excitedly as he follows. She flies through the city, delighting in the feel of the cool morning wind across her feathers. He follows closely, perching beside her as they land on the balcony to her bedroom. She shifts back to herself, laughing as Caleb follows, falling forward onto the balcony as she tugs him away from a fall. 

She reaches to a gap in the mortar, pulling out a key and raising her eyebrows at Caleb as she opens the door. Her childhood room is unchanged, every detail etched in her memory. The room had been her whole world, the scope of everything wrapped within it, within the walls of the Chateau - always hidden. A warm hand settles on her shoulder, and she realizes that she is standing still in the doorway. Gentle fingers trail up and down her arm, anchoring her. 

“Jester, are you alright?” He asks, his voice as soft as the ocean wind. 

She considers - smile, divert, distract. 

His touch trails along her skin, and she closes her eyes into the sensation. She turns to face him, placing her hands flat on his chest and smiling softly at the beat of his heart beneath her palms. 

“I will be.” She says honestly, his eyes kind on hers. 

She leans her head back and accepts the kiss he gives her, hands pressed between them as he cups her jaw, running a thumb along her cheek. He breaks away, his face close to hers as he breathes against her cheek. 

“Ja?” He whispers.

She nods, nuzzling her head under his chin as he chuckles, his chest vibrating against hers as she wraps her arms around him and sways them from side to side. His long fingers press into the flesh of her back, his arms encompassing.

I want this for the rest of my life, she realizes, her mind reeling. 

“Ja.” She says with a soft smile, pulling him to the door. 

“I’ll definitely be better after breakfast, come on,” She says, fighting a laugh at the love drunk smile on his face. 

The Chateau was sleepy, the bar empty, chairs tucked neatly on top of the tables. The staff usually began work for the day at eight, preparing for the lunch and dinner service. 

She turns and continues to tug on his hands, grinning as he raises his eyebrows. She leads them through the dark bar and kitchen easily, not missing a step. 

“I am impressed, Jester,” He says, and she tosses her head a little in pride, the jewels on her horns tinkling in the dark hallway. 

“When you don’t go anywhere you can learn a lot about a place. I can draw this whole building from memory,” She says, blushing at the admiration in his eyes. 

“Where are you taking me, Lavore - “ 

He starts to ask, and she giggles as his nostrils flare at the smell of freshly baked bread, his eyes widening as he slots the pieces together, and she wants to draw him with a head full of gears, each whirring and turning. 

“Oh I think you know,” She says with a grin, falling through the swinging door to the kitchen, dropping Caleb's hands and smiling at his subsequent stumble. 

A head pops up from behind the counter with a scowl before seeing Jester and softening - Rota, the head baker, an older half-elven woman with soft brown skin and quick, smiling amber eyes. Jester had snuck countless pastries from under the woman's hands, and now that she thought about it, most of that was probably just Rota letting her take them rather than any keen stealth she possessed as a child. 

“Miss Jester , I didn’t know you were here - “ Rota said, rising with a pan full of steaming loaves of Nicodrani breakfast bread. 

She sat the pans down gently before pulling off her gloves and walking over to Jester, pulling her into a hug. Jester looked at Caleb behind her, his bright blue eyes flicking from the bread back to Jester with a sheepish smile. 

Jester squeezed the chef tightly, inhaling the familiar smell of baked bread and the lilt of the coast in her words.

“Weeeeell we just got here and I thought I would raid the kitchen like old times,” Jester said, pulling away from Rota and gesturing to Caleb. 

Rota smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she made her way to a pastry rack and pulled out a tray of bear claws. Jester squealed and shoved one in her mouth, almost wanting to cry for the taste - though all of their travels, she still could not find a bearclaw quite like Rota’s. She lost her focus for a moment before she remembered, reaching back and grabbing Caleb forcefully, causing the wizard to jump and fall forward. 

“This is Caleb, he is a super smart and handsome wizard - “ She said, grinning at the flush that deepened slightly as Caleb inclined his head, a loose strand of auburn falling across his face as he did so. 

“Caleb Widogast, at your service.” He said, and Jester giggled as Rota looked at her and winked. 

“Be careful, I may actually put you to work, many mouths to feed. Well met, Widogast.” Rota said, inclining her head in acknowledgement and returning to her station, where a bowl piled high with eggs and another half filled with sunshine yellow yolks was waiting. 

Rota quickly began to dispatch more eggs into the bowl, her scarred and burned hands deftly cracking two at a time with each hand. 

“Rooota, can we have some?” Jester asked, still smirking as Caleb stared at the fresh loaves. 

Rota shook her head, her long braid swinging as she laughed, her work never stopping. 

“Only for you Sapphire. Go on, you know where everything is.” Rota says with a wink and a wave, her strong hands shining with yolk. 

Jester squealed happily, dragging Caleb to the bread and slicing it quickly with one of the gleaming knives that hung along the wall. Jester sliced the bread quickly, shaking her hand at the heat rising from the loaves. Caleb gave her a quick look of concern, and how funny, that he has seen her shot and sliced and bleeding, and still worries over a leetle burn. 

But his face turned to amazement as he tasted the bread, his ridiculous blue eyes lighting up as Rota laughed behind him, dispatching the eggs with a rhythmic crack-crack. Jester could almost hear the gears turn to a stop, tinny and grinding. 

“Pretty good hunh?” Rota says, her lilting voice almost musical over the shattering shells. 

Jester grabbed a bear claw, giggling as crumbs fell down Caleb’s chin. She peered over the baking racks, humming with joy as she plucked pastries from the racks and stuffed them into her bag. Caleb watched with a bemused expression, pink mouth covered in cinnamon. 

“Thanks Rota, you’re the best. We’re gonna wait for momma to wake up, but we miiight be back,” She says, tugging Caleb behind her once more and giggling as he swipes another breakfast bun. Rota waves them goodbye with a knowing smile, the swinging door creaking behind them. 

As soon as they leave Jester pushes Caleb into a wall, grinning at his huff of surprise. She kisses him fiercely, the taste of cinnamon bright on her tongue. When she pulls away his eyes are blown wide, copper hair mussed. She shakes her head at him, smiling as she wipes a bit of sugar off his cheek.

“Come on, we have a few hours,” She says, pulling Caleb behind her, his feet following dutifully as she leads him back to her room, his clever mouth hanging open with dumbstruck adoration.

Chapter Text

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They fell to the floor, laughing into each other's mouths. She shut the door with a wave of her hand, giggling as she wiped away a bit of sugar from his mouth with her thumb. 

They sat beside her bed as Jester laid out her spread, grabbing an old shirt from her nightstand. She had lived here, not so long ago. She had been... here. Skin far less scarred, eyes far less wary. He shook his head as he remembered where he had been then - filthy and paranoid, sleeping curled around Nott in a hay barn. She rubbed his knee and he met her eyes once more, her gaze searching as he felt the air leave him.

“Caleb. Where are you?” She asked, her voice light as she gave him a knowing smile. 

He laughed weakly and kissed her cheek, her soft huff of surprise warming his heart as he cupped her face. 

“I was just thinking - you lived here, not so long ago. And yet, it feels like...I think of you, here, and where...where I was, at the same time.”

She nodded, her eyes closing as she shook her head in his grip, reaching up to pull his hand into her lap. 

“It is a little bit of a miracle, hunh?” She said softly.

“You could say that,” He replied, watching as she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.

“I wasn’t happy either, Caleb. I was safe but I wasn’t...happy. I was so scared, in the beginning. But I was so excited. I realize how lucky I was, now, to meet you all. If you told me that a handsome, powerful Wizard would be kissing me in this room?” She said, raising her eyebrows as he laughed.

“You flatter me, liebling.” He managed, her bright eyes sparkling as she leaned forward, holding herself tantalizingly close. 

“You know I don’t. I’ve always told you the truth, haven’t I?” She said quietly, and he stilled at her sweet breath, so close. 

He leaned forward, and he could see every freckle, feel the slight shift of challenge in her expression as he stilled before her. 

“I am happy to be here with you, Jester. I am...more than happy. It will just take some time to believe it all is real,” He murmured, pressing his lips to hers briefly before kissing her shoulder, her arms wrapping around him as she pulled him to the floor, away from the pastries as she easily rolled herself on top of him.

He was breathless as she sat her weight on his hips, her soft curves encompassing as she hovered above him, bracing herself on her elbows. She fixed him with a steady gaze, and his mouth fell open as she grinned at him, letting her weight settle fully along him as she smiled against his throat, pressing kisses to the skin as he turned to chase her mouth.

She met him in a searing kiss, his hands snaking up her back as she bit his lower lip, the sweet pain sending an unwitting moan from his lips. She pulled away, her grin cocky as her teeth shone in the morning light. 

“It’s real, Caleb. I’ll just have to work harder to show you,” She said softly, her hands holding his flushed face. 

He laughed, her grip cool and strong against his burning cheeks. 

“You don’t have to do anything, Blueberry. I simply have to stop being an idiot,” He said, and she giggled as she rolled off and laid beside him, cuddling up close on her side. 

He matched her, feeling a sudden wave of sleepiness tug at him as the sunlight fell across them. He closed his eyes as she sighed against him, her head pillowed on his chest as she threw a leg over his, her arm across his stomach. A laugh escaped him as she kissed his shoulder, and he grinned at her incredulously. He should have known, should have expected that she would be so tactile, so cuddly. 

He didn’t mind at all. 

Silence fell, comfortable and warm. He watched as she relaxed, her breath slowing as she fell asleep against him. He relaxed as he wound a hand into her hair, dozing on and off. A sharp knock woke them both, and he stifled a laugh at Jester’s wide eyes and mussed hair. She narrowed her eyes at him and stuck out her tongue, smacking his cheek.

“I know you’re here, Sapphire. And you too, Caleb. I’m awake,”

They stared at each other as Marion’s voice cut through the air, Jester giggling into his chest as her footsteps faded away. Jester laughed, and he joined her, the shock wearing off as they sat up and she combed through his hair with her fingers, her smile fond.

“You better go talk to her, Caleb. She is a busy woman,” She said with a wink.

He stood, blushing fiercely as she smacked his butt on the way up, the sting sharp. He spun on his heel to stare at her with a slack jaw, her innocent smile almost believable as she blinked up at him. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, shaking his head against her grin. 

“You are a menace, Lavorre,” He said lowly, enjoying the way her eyes gleamed. 

“You are a smart man after all,” She said with a grin, her button nose scrunching as he stepped away, stopping in the doorway to look back at her.

“I love you,” He said simply, watching as the play slipped from her smile. 

She cocked her head to the side, the sun behind her casting a halo across her ink-dark hair. 

“I love you too,” She said softly, the words sending the air from him as he smiled weakly and opened the door, stepping into the hallway and heading towards Marion’s room. 

She welcomed him in after one knock, her keen golden eyes sparkling in the morning light. Dressed simply in a cotton dress and robe, her beauty was still stunning as she sat across from him and grinned, her fangs gleaming against smooth red skin. 

His head began to swim as he sat across from her. The night before felt like a lifetime ago, a lifetime where he did not know the press of Jester’s soft lips against his. Her words, given so freely not two minutes ago, still ringing in his ears. Marion gave him a warm smile, loose dark hair falling across her shoulders. 

“So, from the look on your face I take it that your talk went well,” She says smoothly, her golden eyes gleaming. 

He smiles and sits up straighter, running a hand through his hair. 

“Ja. You were right, Frau Lavorre. She...you were right.” He said simply, meeting her eyes. 

Her teeth are bright against her deep red mouth as she smiles, leaning forward to take his hands in hers. 

“Good. Good. I take it I do not need to tell you what will happen if you hurt her, Caleb. I think that you would punish yourself better than anyone else. I know you have loved her for a long time, Caleb. Love her well. You must set aside your shame, Caleb. You do not belong to yourself alone. Not anymore.” She said gently, her touch warm against his skin. 

He sighed at the truth in her words, nodding dumbly. It as true, but it had been for a long time - since he met Nott in a filthy jail cell. He had no way to know that his fate had been set that day as a drunk goblin clattered to the floor beside him, her gleaming yellow eyes desperate and fierce. 

“I have not belonged to myself in a long time. I would rather die than hurt her, in any way. You must know that, Frau Lavorre. I will do anything to ensure her happiness and safety.” 

Marion brushed a lock of hair behind his ear, her expression soft. 

“I know. I can see the truth of it in your eyes, how you look at her. You are a grown man, and I will not lecture you. But know this - the Ruby of the Sea is a powerful enemy.” She says with a grin, her straight nose scrunching. 

He chuckles as she squeezes his hands, a playful smile on her full lips. 

“I can only imagine,” 

Marion gives his hands another squeeze before standing, the breeze from the window catching her loose hair. She stepped forward and bent at the waist, placing her hands on his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his forehead. She remained, her smooth forehead pressed to his, perfume flooding his nostrils.

“I was not so lucky in love. I do not want my daughter to suffer my fate. Love her well. I am glad it is you, Caleb.” 

She stood straight, patting his cheek as he took a deep breath. 

“For the rest of my life, and beyond if I can manage it,” He says with a smile, Marion’s grin returning. 

“She deserves nothing less. And neither do you, Caleb. Remember that.” She says gently, rising to open the door. 

Caleb fights a laugh as a blue sparrow flits away from a nearby tree branch, Marion raising a single eyebrow. He rises, stopping to kiss Marion’s cheek. She laughs and shakes her head, patting him on the shoulder as he exits. 

“And - come see me more often? I am very curious, and a wonderful listener,” She says with a warm smile. 

“We will. Thank you, for everything.” He says earnestly, pausing in the door. 

Marion inclines her head, her eyes wistful. 

“Anything for my daughter. But you already know that,” She says with a smile, pulling the door closed behind him.

He exhales deeply as soon as it does, leaning against the wall as familiar footsteps rise up the stairs, Jester’s excited face greeting him. 

“So did she threaten you? Scare you? She can be very scary,” She said, wiggling her eyebrows.

He laughed, reaching for her hands and swinging their arms. 

“Completely. I haven’t been that afraid since the white dragon,” 

Jester threw her head back, eyes sparkling as she looked at him. 

“Good. Are you ready to go back, or do you need to change your pants?” She asked. 

He pretended to think, shifting from foot to foot with a grimace as she giggled.

“I’m ready. I don’t have any spare pants anyway.” 

She raised her eyebrows, an idea blooming in her eyes.

“You know, you never did wear my dress,” 

Caleb laughed, breaking away to walk back to Jester’s room, her fingers wound in his. 

“Another day, Blueberry. I wouldn’t want to show you up,”

She scoffs in mock fury behind him, and he forces a straight face. They slip into her room at last and she opens her mouth to retaliate, but he silences her with a kiss, smiling into her mouth as she presses against him, catching herself. She leaned back quickly, Caleb letting her go with a smug grin that he doesn’t try to hide. 

She rests her hands on his neck, her fingers entwining as she looks at him with a gentle smile. He stands at her attention, letting her eyes study him freely as he watches. She takes her time, and he waits, tracing the tip of her pointed ear and lightly tossing the jewelry on her horn. She laughed at that, her lips finding his again before sighing and falling against his chest. 

“They are going to have questions. And I...I have a few too.” She murmured, and he nodded against her head, inhaling the smell of her hair. 

“Anything, Jester,” He said honestly, her hands tightening on him. 

“Are we...together?” She asks, and he stifles a laugh into her neck as she relaxes against him. 

“Ja, if you want to be. I never wish to be apart from you. Call it whatever you wish,” He says softly, Jester growing still in his arms once more.

He feels her take a deep breath, and he smiles at sending her words away once more. Or perhaps something else - perhaps she needed to slow down. 

“Boyfriend. We can...we can start with boyfriend,” She murmurs against his chest, and he laughs, kissing her again as she leans back, eyes wet. 

She leans back into him, the wind catching at her hair in the half-open door of the patio. He kisses her shoulder, bare skin cool under his lips as she sighed into his chest. 

“I guess we can lead with that. There is also the Queen - she was super sad that you were dead and maybe a little pissed,” She said quickly, looking up at him with raised eyebrows. 

“There is also the Queen, ja. Beau told me the same - I think it might be best to speak to her before the Nein,” He said gently, feeling her nod as she tucked her head back under his chin. 

She snaked her arms around him and he let his hands ride low on her back, her lips smiling against him. He swayed them gently as they stood in the sun, and Jester sighed heavily in his arms.

“Yeah, I think so too. I’ll go with you, and if she doesn’t want to talk to me I’ll just hang out with Essek, which is pretty fun,” She said, leaning back to smile at him, her eyes fond. 

“I am sure she would love to speak with you. A message would be wise, actually - but it is far later there. Perhaps we message Essek that we are arriving, ja? Before we leave.” 

She nods, humming in thought.

“Are you ready to go?” She asks, and he nods, pulling out the chalk. 

She gives him another sweet smile, and he wonders what she sees when she looks at him like... that. He crouches and begins his work, working to ignore her as she pulled out her sketchbook once more. He heard her murmuring and counting words as he sketched, and he paused, ready to help. She blushed as he looked at her, scribbling out a word or two as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’ve got it, re lax ,” She said, and he bit down his grin as he went back to his runes. 

He stood back as he finished, glancing up to Jester before placing the last line. She looked up from her book, eyes distracted before they grew wide. He laughed as she tucked the book back in her bag and stood, holding her hands aloft. 

“Hey Essek, comin’ through on the circle! With Caleb, obviously. We know we need to speak to Leylas first. Thanks for helping me earlier also -” She said slowly, her eyes focused as he counted along with an amused smile. 

“Okay, all done!” She quipped, and he crossed the last rune, her room filling with light. 

They stepped through, the sensation now familiar. She gripped his hand securely as they landed, the guards turning to face them as one. Caleb stood still, Jester watching curiously as she took them in. 

Essek emerged from a side passage, his handsome face fond as he took them in. Caleb watched incredulously as the guards bowed respectfully towards him, Jester looking at him pointedly and raising her eyebrows with a giggle. 

Caleb gave Essek a pointed look, his answering smile smug. Jester squeezed his hand and he gave her a reassuring smile, fighting a laugh as she leaned up to whisper in his ear.

“We’re kind of a big deal, you know,”

The guards stood straight once more, and Essek stood before them. Caleb sighed as he took in the drow, his confession still fresh in his ears. That was long ago though, he realized. That was...before. She squeezed his hand once more, and Essek’s eyes were soft on them. 

“Caleb Widogast, you were a Hero of the Dynasty far before you helped end a war. Your safe return is worthy of recognition,” He said smoothly. 

Caleb laughed nervously as Jester giggled, her smile wide. 

“All the same, it is unnecessary.” He said lowly, Essek’s eyes playful and challenging against his. 

“That is beyond even my control, Caleb,” He said as he led them from the chamber, steps echoing. 

“They did that on their own accord, actually,” He said, looking back at them.

Caleb shook his head, Jester’s presence steady and bright beside him. Essek led through the doors as they opened, more guards bowing at the sight of he and Jester. He could feel her proud grin radiating, and he shook his head at his life. 

He had been a corpse, not long ago. And a murderer, long before that. But now, he walked with his love by his side as the intricate doors were pulled open, the throne room opening before him to the Bright Queen herself. 

Her face lit up as they entered the room, and Caleb noted the General, close behind. Her helmet was off, long pure white hair loose as she looked at him and back to Leylas with a gentle smile. Caleb stilled before the throne, Jester stopping with him as she squeezed his hand. Leylas rose and descended the steps smoothly, and Caleb exhaled in surprise at the relief in her eyes. She glanced to Jester, and their joined hands, her weary smile beautiful. 

Caleb stood still as she stood before them, the General close behind. Jester did a curtsy beside him, and the silence was punctured by his laughter, the Bright Queen joining him as she shook her head. 

“I cannot tell you how good it is to see you again, Caleb. And you, Jester,” She said, her grand voice soft. 

Caleb inclined his head, laughter dying in his mouth. 

“Thank you, your majesty. For helping my family.” He replied, Beau’s words in the back of his mind. 

She shook her head, a curious look in her eyes. 

“You really don’t understand, do you? You have the favor of the Bright Queen, for all of your life. All of you. To lose you is to lose one of our greatest Heroes. There are many that would be greatly grieved by your death, Caleb Widogast.” She said softly, her words heavy with power and hard-earned wisdom. 

Jester squeezed his hand once more, her strong grip grounding. 

“Forgive me, your Majesty. I will not...I will not forget again.” He replied, glancing to the side where Jester’s eyes searched his face, her eyes full of pride. 

Leylas nodded, her eyes growing gentler as she looked between them. 

“Go, take your rest. We will speak again, Caleb, when you are well.” She said, more of a command than a request as she turned with a knowing smile.

She made her way up the steps, the General following. She turned suddenly, her eyes bright as she smiled down at them.

“And - congratulations. Treasure each other,” She said, giving them one last knowing smile before making her way back to the throne. 

He felt a blush color his face, and Jester rocked back and forth on her heels as she replied. 

“Thank you, Majesty. We will,” She said with a grin, her eyes bright. 

He shook his head at her, bewildered as he released her hand and pulled her in close. He gave her a quick kiss on her forehead before hooking his elbow in hers. She blushed and held onto his arm, letting him lead as they followed Essek from the room and back into the streets above. 

He stood awkwardly as they arrived in the fresh air, and Caleb felt a pang of guilt that he assuaged quickly with the feel of Jester’s hand on his arm. 

“We will make our way from here, friend. Thank you, for everything.” He said, watching as Essek inclined his head, floating once more.

“It is my pleasure. I will see you both soon, yes?” He asked, eyes hopeful.

Caleb smiled as Jester caressed the pale skin under his sleeve, humming in agreement beside him. 

“Ja, my friend.”

Essek smiled at that, turning to leave with a wave. 

“Soon, then.”

Caleb watched him dissapear into the dark, feeling a dumb smile on his face as Jester tugged him forward, her grip strong as he leaned on her, letting his head knock on her horn gently and wincing at the point. She giggled, pulling away as she shook her head at him. 

“Cayleb, you’re going to have to get used to those,” She said, and he nodded seriously as he rubbed at his sore scalp.

“I look forward to the challenge,” He said easily, her fond eyes smiling as he straightened his shoulders. 

She kept a slow pace at his side - home was not far. He knew they had five minutes before they were at the door. He glanced down and held out his free hand, splaying out his fingers and tucking two down. 

“So, three things. One, we are a couple now,” He said, folding his finger in a count as she hummed seriously beside him.

“Oh yes, fully settled.” She said, her brows rising as she smiled, letting him kiss her cheek.

“Oh, of course. I just like hearing you say it. Two, we already spoke to Leylas, and I will have to do so again but I do not know when. And three,” He said, pausing in an alley as the house came into view. 

She followed, slipping into the shadows with him easily. Her eyes were lamp-like in the dark, flashing as they adjusted in the low light. There was an easy grin on her face, and a lilac blush on her cheek that he would love to see, love to kiss and - 

“Would you like to...move into my room?” He asked, afraid that if he waited too long he would lose his threadbare courage.

He watched as her eyes grew wide in the sparse light, and he could drink her in for the rest of his life. She reached a hand to cup his face, her expression stunned and smiling. 

“I... yeah. Probably. Let me think about it? I think ?” She said, biting her lip in worry. 

He kissed her cheek with a gentle rub along her pointed ear, grinning at her as she opened her mouth eagerly and chased him as he pulled away. 

“I’m sorry, I just...wanted to ask.” 

She rolled her bright eyes, roving over his face. She settled her hand against his neck, taking a deep breath as she looked him over. 

“It's a good idea. Beau and Yasha will probably take Yasha’s rom anyway and...I can have an art studio! Here! And -” She said, looking away. 

She glanced back up to him, and he wished he could see more of her, the impossible colors that dusted across her face and body. 

“And I...don’t want to sleep alone. Not anymore.” She said, her lips turning in a smile as he grasped her hands and kissed her knuckles. 

“Not do I. I will do whatever you wish, Jester. It is...very private, in my room.” He said softly, and he watched as a stunned grin pulled at her lovely face. 

“Oh Caleb , we have so much to catch up on,” She said, her sweet voice dripping with laughter in the narrow alley. 

“Ja. But we have to get through this, first.” He says, laughing as she scrunches her face in irritation. 

“Shit,” She responds, tugging him out of the alley and towards the home once more. 

“Come on, boyfriend - lets get this over with,”