Chapter Text
The Mighty Nein decided to spend the rest of the night in the hole since Caduceus was still too injured to climb or be safely lifted out until he received a proper once over with healing spells. So, again Caleb cast the dome and the group did their best to make a comfortable home out of the earthen pit. The stress of the day was enough for the group to sleep solidly, except for Fjord who couldn’t find a way to successfully still his mind. He spent most of the night lying on his side listening to the deep snores of Caduceus (and Beauregard) from his spot beside Caleb and Nott.
His last conversation with the firbolg left him almost uneasy, and he wasn’t sure what to do with those feelings. He really was fascinated by so many members of their group, and he was fairly certain he had figured out a good number of his companions. Caduceus was still such a mystery to him in so many ways.
“You look tired,” Caduceus’ voice spoke up over the sound of the wagon wheels turning and Jester and Nott’s conversation from the front of the cart.
“Hmm?” The half-orc looked up, startled, not realizing his focus had begun to drift.
“Are you doing okay, Mr. Fjord? You haven’t had much to say this morning.”
Caduceus looked concerned in his own way, leaning forward slightly and peering at him from under wise brows. They were sitting across from each other in the bed of the cart. He had foregone his green beetle armor for the day as his side was still tender even after Jester had put a few additional healing spells into him before they set out. His right hand absentmindedly rested near where the two clerics had decided his spleen must’ve burst causing most of the bleeding he’d suffered from. The rest of the damage could be attributed to a nicked lung by one of a handful of his broken ribs.
“Yea, yea, I’m fine Duceus. Just glad to be out of that hole.” Fjord let out a loud sigh.
“I have to agree with you there. For a while, I was beginning to feel like I was back home at the grove, except I was one of the buried.” He let out a soft smile that Fjord couldn’t bring himself to return. “That’s just a little gravedigger humor, Mr. Fjord,” he felt the need to clarify.
“Yea, I got that,” he said softly, head tilting back to face the sky for a moment.
“You’re…upset with me?” the firbolg questioned slowly, his brows furrowing.
“No.” Fjord sighed again and leaned forward. “No, I’m not upset with you. I’m just…confused? Concerned? Awh, I don’t know. Just forget it.”
Caduceus’ eyes softened seeing the half-orc sharply avert his gaze and look as if he were interested in jumping from the moving cart all of a sudden.
“Will forgetting it make you feel better?”
Fjord looked back at him in surprise, opening his mouth momentarily but not saying anything.
“My parents were big believers in having us kids talk about our problems and our confusions. And while it doesn’t always bring clarity, it may bring a deeper understanding as to why it is something important to dwell upon.”
Fjord nodded, not quite sure he understood the firbolg’s actual meaning, but holding onto one word he gave.
“You know that you’re important, right, Duceus?”
He didn’t mean for that to be the question he asked, and he was sure his face was near identical to the startled look on his companion’s face.
“I’m- I’m not quite sure I understand your meaning. We all play our part in this group, and I do like to think I support…”
“No, no,” Fjord sputtered quietly. “I’m not talking about your usefulness or your talents, Duceus. Yes, you bless us before fights and heal us after. And you damn near made me consider becoming a vegan with your cooking skills, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Even if you couldn’t do half of the things the Wildmother has blessed you with, you know you’re important, your life, your self, is important…you know that right?”
Caduceus looked almost taken aback and opened his mouth only to close it with a contemplative ‘hmmm.’
“Because I know what it’s like to feel like nothing and that maybe it would be better off to just become nothing if it meant helping others…become something.” Flashes of still images flew through his mind in the moment of quiet: being alone at the orphanage, joining a crew, finding a man he idolized and wanted to become…
“Where is this coming from, Mr. Fjord?” Caduceus asked quietly, and he appeared so stripped at that moment. Confusion holding back the wisdom and tender confidence he often exuded.
Fjord looked down at where his knuckles were flexing around each hand.
“It’s just…something you said yesterday.”
“What did I say? I have to admit, I wasn’t quite…hmm focused for much of the time we spent underground.”
“Something about it being your job to take care of people…”
“Oh…” the cleric breathed, gaining some understanding.
“And I don’t want you to think you can just discount yourself.”
“Mr. Fjord-”
“You could have died, Caduceus,” Fjord hissed and looked up, fully aware that Nott and Jester were nearby, but they hadn’t stopped their chatter. “You were dying and I couldn’t do anything about it. I was holding you and you were dying. And please don’t say anything about every death being necessary and having its own time because that clearly wasn’t yours.”
The firbolg allowed there to be a silent pause for a few moments as Fjord became concerned again with the dirt under his nails.
“You’re right, it wasn’t,” he said slowly as if taking the time to warm the words before he spoke them. “And it was because of you and Mr. Caleb that I got the help I needed in time.”
Fjord scoffed.
“I mean it, Fjord. I’ll admit I wasn’t fully aware of everything happening in the moment, but that in itself tells me just how much I relied on you to keep me safe. I believe the Wildmother looks over all of us, and you were looking over me then too.”
Fjord looked up with open eyes, catching a wistful expression in his companion’s.
“I was alone for a long time, long enough for me to completely lose track of the seasons. I only had myself to care for and… over the years alone, I-I know I stopped doing a good job at that.”
The half-orc was surprised at the open admission but thought back to meeting the firbolg for the first time and thinking about how gaunt the seven foot man appeared.
“So...maybe I'll need a reminder every once in a while, but I’m certain after how you handled yesterday’s events that I can trust you to be that for me?”
Fjord blinked. “Of course, Duceus. You don’t even have to ask that.”
The contented, lax smile returned to share in the expression his equally warm eyes gave to the half-orc.
“That I am quite sure of, Mr. Fjord.”
Both settled back against the gentle rocking of the cart and a shared understanding that had been voiced aloud.