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Caleb’s frown grew heavier with each shop he and Beau left. Nicodranas wasn’t a small city. There were numerous shops selling small wares and gifts, especially given the festival that just passed.
“Seriously,” Beau groans, not for the first time. “I know this is kinda a big deal for you, but you can’t tell me that you haven’t seen anything you want today?”
“It has to be appropriate, Beauregard,” he murmurs, picking up a tiny plant in a tinier pot. “What is the point of these? You can’t grow proper fruit off of something like this cactus.”
“People like tiny stuff, I unno. Can we get something to eat soon?”
His own stomach rumbles, and his first instinct is to ignore it. But as he puts the plant down and turns to look at Beau, he feels his coinpurse bump into his chest on the leather necklace it hangs from, and it’s heavy. He’s still not used to having coin to give freely for food. “Ja, some lunch would be good.”
They easily find a place nearby, a shadowy tavern with tacky seats. Plastered on the walls are shabby paper hearts and torn sashes of pinks and peaches. The waittress who greets them suppresses a yawn as she asks them what they’d like.
Beau grins up at her from their table, asking, “Some festival last night, huh?” Caleb barely resists rolling his eyes at her flirting. The waittress at least seems immune, just making a general assent and moving back to the kitchen. When she comes back with their ales, Beau doesnt even look up, just muttering her thanks. “Man, Sune’s Tide is such a crock. Did you see how much they were selling those bouqets for last night? Merchants just like festivals that make it easy to sell crap for three times its worth for a night.”
Caleb’s search wasn’t fruitless. There was a book on the old families that settled in what would become the thriving coastal city. He ‘mm-hmm’s her tirade as he opens the old tome carefully.
“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” she gripes.
“Of course I am, Beau. But maybe not with both ears.”
She snorts into her beer. “I mean, you drag me out of bed to traipse around the city for hours, asking me what I think of candles and chocolates and some jewelry like I give a crap-” she stops, tankard paused as she lowers it. “Caleb,” she asks with whispered disbelief. “Are you-did you not get someone something for Sune’s Tide? Is that what you’ve been searching for?”
“Hm?” he asks, catching up to her words.
“Are you like, getting me to judge a gift you could get for some lady? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, I don’t know anything about that kinda frou-frou shit. Jester would have been better for this. Unless!” she points a finger at him. “Are you getting a gift for Jester?!”
“Don’t be preposterous,” he scoffs. “Of course not.”
“So, who? Yasha? Cause I think that’s a dead end street if you catch my drift.”
“Yasha is still mourning her wife, I would not be so rude,” he says shortly, giving her a short glare.
“Hey, I backed off as soon as I knew. Don’t have to tell me about that,” she says as she raises her hands as if in surrender. Their food arrives then, and Beau is thankfully too hungry to badger Caleb any further. They eat in relative silence, and leave the tavern after paying with only small talk and no strife.
“So, we have searched through the east part of town, perhaps the western side will have something more promising,” Caleb says, leading hte way.
“If I knew who you were trying buy a gift for, I could help more. I mean, Nott’s technicaly still married so I doubt it’s for her. Like, I don’t know Caddy very well but I could try. I know Fjord’s tastes pretty good by now-”
“Please,” he says as he comes to a stop, forcing her to stop right behind him. “Please, no more questions. This is-it’s incredibly difficult for me to do this, Beau. You’re one of the two in the group that I trust with my difficulties. So please, my friend, just help me? I am-I am so clueless about this sort of thing.”
Beau bites the inside of her cheek. One of these days, she’ll figure out how to tease him without tripping into hurtful misunderstandings, but today ain’t it. “Yeah man, sorry. You know what, I think I know somewhere that might have some unique stuff.” She walks up to him, gives him a gruff pat on the shoulder, and strides confidently foward.
Later that evening, as they all sit around the Lavish Chateau's dining room, resting and discussing future plans, Caleb stands up. “Ah, Fjord, can I see you for a moment please?” Without looking to see if he follows, Caleb starts walking for the stairwell. Jester gives a hoot, joined by Beau. Caleb slides his hands along the coarse wooden wall as he ascends the stairs, trying his hardest to keep calm. But as he unlocks his room, leaving the door ajar and standing in the center of the room, his heart is refusing to be steady. It’s rabbiting against his sternum, as if he could somehow stop this from being a horrible decision if he gave himself a heart attack.
“What’s this about, Cay?” Fjord asks, voice breathless like he ran to catch up with Caleb’s sudden departure.
Caleb doesn’t turn as he says, “You ah, you gave me a gift the other day.”
In the pause Caleb takes to set his words in order, Fjord rushes to fill the brief silence. “Oh. If I uh, offended you or overstepped then I ah, apologize. We can just forget all about it and just-”
“No, no, it is not-Fjord.” Caleb faces him, and his heart nearly stops at the expression on his friends face. It’s downright pitiful. His brows are pinched and his bright gilden eyes are dim and downcast. He reaches up with a hand to scratch the back of his neck.
“No, no it’s fine, Caleb. I misread the situation, not for the first time, and I’d hate this to ruin what we’ve already got-”
“Fjord, please let me-”
“You don’t have to outright reject me, I can take a hint-”
“Stop your silver tongue for once and let me speak,” Caleb orders. Surprisingly, it works and Fjord shuts his mouth with a click of his teeth. “I will not be able to get through this if you continue to interrupt me. It’s been ah, many years since anyone saw anything fit in me to bother giving me a gift. Nott being the exception, of course. Even more years since I felt the desire to return such a gesture.” He pauses, inhaling deeply and bringing out his gift. “The book you got me was a type I don’t usually peruse myself. Poems are for bards, not schoolboy wizards.”
“Not so much a schoolboy, if you ask me,” Fjord murmurs.
Caleb chuckles, looking down at his scarred knuckles. “I suppose not. Either way, it…it was touching. I was touched. And if my examining of the last poem, about the moon and the sea, and the wrinkled paper it was on, you seemed to linger on that one. It was by far the most romantic in the book.”
Fjord’s lips perk up in a smirk. “Guilty as charged.”
Caleb nods, clearing his throat and reaching into a pocket. “Then I judged correctly, what a relief. I-I wish this wasn’t late, but for a clever man I am sometimes a fool.” He walks a few steps closer, and holds out a small dark marine blue velvet pouch. “I hope you like it,” he says quietly.
“You didn’t have to get me anything, Caleb.” Fjord steps closer and reachs for the pouch, fingering the fine velvet material. He looks up into Caleb’s eyes, searching and biting away a hopeful grin. “Does this-are you trying to say anything in particular with this or-”
Caleb huffs through his nose, before closing the distance between them and reaching up for Fjord’s shoulders. “To hell with words,” he grumbles before pressing his chapped lips to Fjord’s. Fjord makes a startled sound before wrapping his arms around Caleb’s still too-thin waist, pulling him flush to his body.
After a few minutes of desperate, searing kisses, Fjord leans back, grinning heatedly down at the man in his arms. “I think that said it all, darlin.’”
“Don’t you want to open your gift?” Caleb asks breathlessly. Fjord grins, tugging at Caleb’s pants suggestively. “Nein, the one I paid money for.”
Reluctantly, Fjord releases him and pulls a the drawstring opening of the pouch. Inside is a simple golden chain, with a small black pendant. “Is this-”
“Lava stone. When molten, fiery rock from a volcano hits the ocean, it cools and reforms to a stone. It’s something mutable, that changed and is fluid. With the right conditions, it could resume its malleable state. I thought it was appropriate, for someone who has changed the course of their life as you have.”
“Caleb…this is mighty thoughtful,” Fjord says as he pulls the necklace over his head, patting it as it rests on his chest. “Thank you. Truly.”
Caleb can’t resist bouncing up on his toes to press a kiss to Fjord’s lips again. “Happy Sune’s Tide,” he says against Fjord’s mouth.