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Prelude

Summary:

Back from a summer co-op program, Fjord is settling back down at university—though it still doesn't feel like home. Reconnecting with some friends, Fjord tries to shake off this feeling by breaking out of his shell.

Notes:

I wrote this instead of writing my /actual/ dnd campaign, so I have liam and travis to thank for being such good actors that it makes all my players mad at me.

listen to Bach's Cello Suite no.1 for further immersion, as my great love for that piece is what made me decide to write this in the first place.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Realistically, Fjord thought, I shouldn't be so surprised at how much the city has changed since last June. 

Dead, newly-fallen leaves laid on the sidewalk as he stepped on them with a light crunch. He turned the corner, minding the gap in the pavement, only to look down and find it filled. The bright white cement stood out among the rest, cracked and discoloured over time. It's supposed to look better, but the new sidewalk looked so out of place, Fjord thought. It felt too clean, like it was stuffed there because the workers didn't know what to do with the excess material, while the other slabs felt like they had been used. Worn in. Comfortable.

Fjord huffed as he continued down the street, stuffing his hands further into his coat pockets.

If it was one thing Fjord didn't miss about being back, it was the winter. 

It wasn't winter yet, but sooner or later it would be getting colder, and everyone would retreat into their houses and months of solitude would begin. Well, not that Fjord didn't like solitude, he had been on the sea, alone with his thoughts for months, the only interactions being commands from the captain and the passing nods of acknowledgement from other crewmen he would see in the hall. He was drained of silence, and he wanted a bit of comradery. It's been a while since he had a good laugh.

Fjord glanced along the street, and let out a satisfied breath as he picked up the pace. The shops have almost entirely changed from when he last saw them, but he was relieved to see The Cobalt was still around, doing quite well from what he could see through the cloudy windows. He hoped Beau was working a shift today, he really didn't want to talk to another employee, and he wanted to see a friendly face—even if that face rarely ever seemed friendly. Also, he could go for some coffee.

The door tinkled with a chime as he pushed it open, and smiled and nodded at Beau when she turned to face him.

"Hey, man!" She nodded back, putting the two serving trays in her hands down on the front counter. "I didn't know you were back yet."

"Our ship came home a bit earlier than expected," Fjord said as he looked around at the interior. Nothing had changed, except for an updated staff photo. It felt nice to at least come home to some familiarity.

"Oh yeah?" Beau dusted off the front of her work uniform, a blue logo-emblazoned t-shirt and brown pants.

"Yeah, looks like the research wrapped up easier than they expected." Fjord didn't see much of what they were doing with the fish they caught. He wasn't on the researchers' team, his co-op only had him help maintain the ship's condition. He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't curious, though.

She walked him over to an open table near the windows. "So," she said as she pulled a chair out. "You thinking of majoring in marine biology, then? You always had an interest for that stuff."

Fjord played with the hemline of his coat. "I-I don't know..."

Beau and Fjord have been friends since middle school when they sat together in detention. Cheesy, Fjord knows, but their friendship did mean a lot to him. Beau ended up there because of him, and he felt bad, but she just shrugged him off, saying she'd do it for anybody. 'Nobody likes a bully,' he remembers her saying, 'and your teeth aren't ugly, Sabian's face is uglier'.

And she would do it for anyone, Fjord knew that. That's why he repaid the favour by almost breaking a guy's nose for calling her names he'd rather not think about.

They drifted apart in high school but reconnected when they found each other in the same kinesiology class first year of university. Both were strangers in a new city, so it was nice to have a familiar face near if only for a little bit. That little bit had grown into almost two years, and Fjord was still not completely at home.

Beau had always stood up for what she felt was right. Now, Beau still knew exactly what she wanted in life—she was a Kinesiology major and hoped to become a physical therapist one day, while Fjord was still undeclared.

He had two weeks to decide what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

Fjord took the seat and reclined as Beau turned back towards the counter. He tilts his head towards the ceiling with a sigh.

He had taken that co-op program to try something new, see if he would find his calling. He enjoyed it a lot, but he still disliked the feeling of being tied down to it. He had a lot of fun but it didn't give him the passion he thought it might. Fjord wanted the drive he saw in so many faces around him, the desire to be good at their job and to do good in the world—someway, somehow. That's how he would know if he was on the right path; if he was doing the right thing with his life.

But he could never find it. No matter what he tried, he never felt the urge to continue doing something forever. He took so many different courses; business, education, communication. But the only time he felt like he belonged was when he was with his friends. That's not to say he felt exiled, he didn't, it's just—he felt like himself with them. They felt as close to a home as he's ever had. They were his family.

Someone cleared their throat, and Fjord looked down to see Beau holding out a coffee to him. He murmured a thank you as he took it.

"What're you thinkin' of doing then?" She swung her leg over the chair across from him and sat down.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" Fjord asked, slouching upright in his chair.

"Eh, my break is in five," Beau said as she waved a hand in front of her face. "I thought you liked marine life and stuff."

"I mean, I do, but-"

"Then why not major in it?" Beau interjected. "You basically killed your future self by going undeclared first year, anyway, why not do something you like?" She smirked as she leaned in.

Fjord shot her a quick scowl. "That's the problem, I'm not sure if I like it enough to continue."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it was tough out there. I went to bed every night physically exhausted."

"Did you enjoy it, though?"

"Overall, yes. A lot, actually-"

"Then what's the problem?"

Fjord knitted his fingers together. "I don't know if I can commit to something forever like that." He pulled his eyebrows together as his faced settled onto a more solemn, thoughtful expression. "I don't have the same type of drive that you have. I don't know if I'm meant to do anything, it feels so..." His voice trailed off. He looked open and vulnerable like this was hard for him to tell someone about. She knew what she wanted to say, but Beau stayed quiet until Fjord collects his thoughts. She met his eyes in a reassuring stare as Fjord breathed out a shaky breath.

"The only time I feel motivated is when I'm with you guys." He said, at last, fidgeting with the rim of his coffee cup.

"Fjord, we all doubt our choices," Beau said, scooching her chair closer. "It's normal. And obviously, I have days where I just wanna give up on studying because I don't feel the fire anymore."

She leaned forward onto the back of the chair, linking her arms. "You're thinking too hard. Nothing's set in stone." She looked him in the eyes, making sure he saw her understanding before he averted his gaze awkwardly.

"Hey, tell you what," she said as she leaned back in her chair and got up. "Me and Jessie are going to a show tonight, you're welcome to tag along."

Fjord collected himself. "Oh, no, I wouldn't want to impose."

"Nah, it's fine." Beau pushes the chair back into its place and straightens out her uniform once more. "We had an extra ticket anyways. Nott had a last-minute reign-check. And besides," she said over her shoulder. "I bet you're lonely after 3 months at sea." Beau smiled as she walked back towards the counter and looked inside.

Fjord chuckled and got up, walking over towards the counter and reaching into his pocket for his wallet. Beau shooed his hand away once she noticed, but Fjord placed the money on the counter.

"For the concert."

Beau rolled her eyes but accepted the money, placing it in the cash register. She pulled her phone out from the behind the counter and opened it.

"Then I'll let Jess know. She'll probably have a million questions for you."

"You two doin' alright, nowadays?" Fjord tipped his chin up quizzically towards Beau, following her with his eyes as she walked absently towards the back door. Beau tucked her phone in her pocket once she's finished typing and turned her head towards Fjord.

She smirked as she pushed the door open with her back. "Have we ever been bad?"

Fjord let out a chuckle as she disappeared, the door swaying behind her.


 

When Beau said a concert, he thought she meant something a little more... different.

When he thinks of Beau and Jester at a concert, he'd think of them at a rock concert. He's known Jester for about a year and knows she's super into Mother Mother, and Beau doesn't oppose a good punk song, as well. So, he was thinking a rock concert would be their type of traditional concert. But this is traditional—like, actually traditional. Beethoven and stuff.

He figures this out as Jester's talking about her summer job as their car approaches the steps of their university's auditorium.

"Yeah, so we're here because I want to support him," Jester says as she leans over the back of the passengers' seat to talk to Fjord.

"The guy you just met?" Fjord asking, turning his attention away from the building. He's never actually gotten a good look at it before, but he knows he passes it as he gets to class.

"Yeah! Caleb was really helpful when I couldn't handle check-up stuff on my own, and the strays took a liking to him!" Jester exclaimed as she got out of the car, excitedly. "I figured I owed him one. I hope he comes back next year, I think my mom took a liking to him." Jester giggled as she wrapped her arm around Beau, who joined them on the other side of the car.

"Shall we?" Beau held her free hand out towards the main entrance, where students already started to pile in.

As they walked, Fjord nudged Beau with his elbow. "Never took you for the classical type," he said.

"Meh, not really. Not a snob I suppose." She shimmied her hand to demonstrate her indifferentness. "But I've heard the guy play, and it's kinda nice."

"Oh really?" Fjord asks.

"Yeah, knew the guy from Bio. Old friend of Nott's, so I got to know him a bit." Beau held Jester's hand as she led her up the stairs. "Let me sit in on a rehearsal one time. 'S nice." Fjord hummed a response.

They made their way into the music hall and entered the auditorium. The theatre was massive; the room had a high ceiling, with layered patterns and slabs of wood and foam laced together in intricate patterns, and balcony ledges lined the walls, filling to the brim with seats that were starting to slowly get occupied. On the large stage in the center were 4 seats, all unoccupied, and 2 black stands, bookmarking the ends of the row. They seemed to be like a bird in the snow, drawing your eyes towards the center in a sea of light colours and brown wood. Not out of place, but intriguing none the less.

The group found their way towards their seats near the front and chatted until the musicians filled in.

There were indeed four of them, and they were dressed in all black formal wear. Two were dressed in suits, but only one presented outwardly as male. The first thing Fjord noticed was his prominent jawline, even under a shaggy yet well-trimmed beard, he could still see its shape, and how it protruded forward as he swallowed nervously. The man subtly wrung his hands together, and Fjord noticed he had a grey arm sleeve on underneath his clean-pressed button-down that seemed a bit too big for him.

"That's Caleb," Jester leaned over towards Fjord and pointed at the man. He figured as much but mused in agreement anyways.

Caleb's eyes seemed to stay in one place, which struck Fjord as odd. He was glaring at the paper he set on the stand to his right as if to tune the audience out. He then shook his head and opened the large case next to him. He delicately placed his hands inside and pulled out a beautifully polished cello. Fjord let his lips part in surprise; he'd never seen any sort of classical instrument up close, and as the rest of the players pull their strings out as well, Fjord couldn't help but notice how Caleb's seemed to shine brighter than the rest. He was hard to read at a glance through that scowl on his face but he seemed to care very deeply for that instrument.

His lips twisted into a determined line as he held his bow in his hands and glanced back up at the sheet music. There, Fjord saw a glimmer. He was nervous, unsure of what the outcome would be, but he wanted to do it even still. A feeling plinked his chest. Behind Caleb's eyes, he saw a man, just as unsure as he was. But he had what Fjord didn't—not trust in himself, but trust in his actions, his future. He trusted that he will do good. Fjord felt his heart throb firmly once against his chest, almost as if to remind him of himself, as he breathed out, trying to release the tension building in his chest. Fjord again found himself envious, and once again, hopeless. But, he kept looking at Caleb. The players were magnetic.

A woman with long, black hair stood up from her seat, violin in hand, and Fjord tore his eyes away from Caleb.

"Hello everyone, and thank you for coming tonight," She moused as she tucked the stray strands of her hair behind her right ear. She's brave to get up in front of all those people, Fjord thought. Much braver than she thinks she is.

"Tonight, we, the Magicians, hope to sweep you off our feet with our performance!" She gestured grandly as her gaze darted down towards the front row nervously. Oh, that must be for a grade. The summer term does end today, Fjord thought.

"Our opening act will consist of solos from each member of our quartet, from the cello to the viola." She held out a hand towards each, getting more and more comfortable as she talked.

"First up, of course, is our lovely cellist Caleb Widowgast, who will be performing the famous Bach's Cello Suite no.1 in G. You know the one," She mused with a smile as the middle column of people chuckled and murmured. Fjord assumed those are classmates.

Caleb, already attentive, sat up straight, his furrowed brow taking a new form as it relaxed, giving him a more concentrative expression. He licked his lips and he closed his eyes.

And, he started to play.

Fjord didn't realize what was happening to him at first until he felt it in his fingertips. There was a surge of emotions rushing through him, a bolt of electricity shooting from his chest under his skin to every part of his body. He felt his hand involuntarily clench the armrest as he looked at Caleb, eyes now open. His face was hopeful, anticipated and honest, but his eyes were worried. He looked like he felt he was undoing himself, unsure if he is making a terrible mistake, fine now at this moment but scared of what might happen in one second, one bow stroke, one wrong note. They searched the audience for something to look at—an anchor to help him stay this way, to help him get his footing.

He met Fjord eyes.

He saw his look, a plea. Please let this work, please let this move you. 

Fjord felt the twang in his chest again, a cherub plucking harder than before.

I need this to be for something. I need this to be right.

The tension in his chest rose again. He swallowed and focused his gaze on the man's eyes, reassuring him. He saw the tension in the man's shoulders lessen, but he didn't break eye contact. His eyes were not focused on Fjord anymore, he seemed to be in his head. But Fjord still saw behind them. The worried exterior matched his inner thoughts as he fought against himself, reassuring himself with confidence he forced himself to maintain.

Fjord saw in this man what he was afraid to see in himself, an uncertainty in his actions, a resistance to the flow of life, yet still he persevered. The way the man so delicately moved the bow in swift motions from up to down, his fingers dancing gracefully along the fretboard as he shaped the song to his will, making it come to life so elegantly. His face twisted with the music as he swayed with the phrase, straining notes as his thoughts strained with them. He put his entire mind into the song, all of his thoughts and emotions were laid out in front of the audience for all to judge. But still, he did it, and he did it beautifully.

Pieces of his hair fell from behind his ear to his face, and Fjord wanted so desperately to tuck them back behind, urging him to keep going. But Caleb remained unfazed. He made the music into his second home. Fjord wanted that, too.

The man's gaze drifted from him to the cello as he concentrated on shifting the piece to its next movement, playing the music with a message of trust, of hope, and Fjord realized it was meant for him. When they locked eyes, it hadn't been only Fjord who noticed their struggles were the same, Caleb had as well. Caleb played for him, intensely but not forcefully, and shaped the phrase to tell his emotions a story. They both were scared for different reasons, but that's okay. Being scared was normal. This was a scary time for both of them, and something worse than being scared is being alone.

Caleb glanced over towards Beau and Jester, who held each other and they watched, Jester bit her lip to keep from spoiling such a beautiful performance. 

You have friends, the music told Fjord, you must allow them to support you. You may not know yet what suits you, but they will still be there to help you find it.

Caleb turned his gaze back towards his cello. Let time wait for you. Be at your own pace and focus on what you like.

Fjord heart was banging against his ribcage as he felt his stomach rise.

Things go wrong all the time.

Caleb was looking into Fjord eyes again, this time, not as nervous anymore. Fjord found himself desperate to hold his gaze as a soft smile crept up his lips. The man's eyes seemed to soften. Fjord placed a hand over his chest, urging his heart to slow down.

The piece made its way to the final movement, and Caleb closed his eyes one last time. Fjord joined him, allowing himself to truly feel the music as it filled up every space in his body with warmth. The tips of his fingers tingled as they danced along his armrest, his heart swelled with the tempo. He felt comfortable for the first time in a long time. 

He held his breath as Caleb held the last note, making it linger and settle beneath Fjord's skin like it had always belonged there.

Fjord's eyes fluttered open as the piece ended, feeling the withdrawal of the music not surrounding him, not incompassing his very soul. Caleb lifted his bow and met his gaze. Fjord's lips parted in a soft gasp for air, as everyone around him erupted in applause.

He was inamoured with the music that just touched his soul.

He was inamoured with this man.

He turned to see Beau and Jester smiling at him, and he realized they were waiting for his response.

"What was that?" he managed to sputter out over the noise.

Jester giggled. "You liked that a lot more than I thought you would!"

Fjord turned his gaze back towards the stage to see Calebsheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, the stern expression fixed back on his face like a safety blanket. Fjord let his lips curl into a smile, gaze still lingering on the man.

"Yeah, me too."

Notes:

any classical musician knows that cello piece is basic as hell (everyone covers it) but it will always hold a special place in my heart.
this was my first time writing critical role stuff so if it seems a little janky I apologized! this was a drabble I had to get out.
check me out on twitter at @deityhearted !