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When Molly wakes up - again - he expects to be choking on damp earth and rot like an instinct; he comes up coughing on nothing, trying to clear nothing from his face. He pauses, squints an eye open to look around. He’s lying on a faded, dirt tainted tapestry, and the memory of buying it while drunk on noise and people drags a creaky, underused smile to his face. Around him are curling green vines spotted with red, the sweet smell of strawberries, and hell, even if he’s not alive this is a nice place to be.
Then someone crashes into him and the shock of pain and pressure means he’s back, and he remembers! The cool, soft tiefling in his arms is Jester, and thank fuck they got her out without Molly. If he’d come back and their friends were still gone he would’ve had to go get himself killed all over again. She’s sobbing and laughing into his shoulder as he hugs her back, even though his elbows feel like old clotted clay is between the bones.
Nott’s tiny bundle of twitchy, scrabbling glee jumps onto his back, and when her claws dig in a bit harshly he tries to bump her with his horn. Fjord’s smiling behind Jester’s shoulder, lip wobbling, and the sight of mostly-grown tusks makes Molly smile all the harder. Frumpkin crawls up Jester’s back to bop Molly’s nose and Caleb stands next to a shock of pink and tall, giving a little wave to Molly. And Beau’s… hm.
An apple core plonks off his head and he looks up to a tree growing behind him, the monk up in the higher branches with another apple. “Hey, jackass, climb your grave tree. I bet you’ve always wanted to eat your own fruits.”
“Beau,” Jester says, not quite reprimanding but soft and insistent. Beau sighs and slides down the trunk to land next to them, not quite meeting Molly’s eyes. Jester grabs her wrist and drags her into the cuddle pile, saying, “C’mon Beau, you missed him too, you don’t have to hide it.”
She makes a show of grumping about it, but finally faces Molly and her eyes are watering, tears messing up her already shit makeup, and kisses him on the forehead. He doesn’t really know what to do with that. “Well, look who went and got a heart,” Molly quips. “I would’ve liked to see who you took it from, but I guess you’ll have to tell me about it later!”
“I got it from you guys,” Beau says, quiet enough only the four of them could hear it. Jester pulls her tighter into the pile, giggling through the last of her tears.
Look, Molly already came out of this grave with a thousand questions he does want answers to, he just has to add ‘why is Beau being nice and showing emotions,’ as well as ‘what blackmail does Jester have on her,’ but there are some big, exclamation point adorned ones at the top. Namely: “So, where’s Yasha? Go off into a storm earlier?”
Everyone goes quiet, Fjord’s face falls, Jester’s arms goes too tight around his neck. Caleb hms to himself, stepping up to kneel in front of Molly. “We ran into some trouble, weeks ago.” Molly snorts, because even in his time they were fast friends with trouble, and Caleb huffs. “Yes, I’m aware. This trouble was more than we expected. Yasha was… controlled, perhaps. We are still working out the hows.”
“Then why are you here dragging my ass out of the dirt?” Molly demands, pushing Jester away. She lets go reluctantly and Beau’s immediately pulling her in while they both watch Molly. He scratches the blackmail question off the list, leaving a big old ‘???’ in its place, and shoves it away for later. “You said weeks ago, well, none of us are patient assholes, so why haven’t you saved her yet?!”
“We have a plan,” tall and pink says, and his voice vibrates Molly’s chest even from a few feet away. “Part of it was to bring you back, so you could help us.” He reaches down and pulls Molly to his feet, his smile simple and solid as the cup of tea he offers. “What do you say, Mr. Mollymauk? Would you like to help find the rest of your family?”
That’s not even a question worth wasting breath on. In short order he has his coat, repaired and with some fun new baubles tied on, they push a pair of shiny scimitars into his hands, and the tall one, Caduceus, puts his old periapt around his neck. A little overwhelmed but giddy with new life and determined as any devil, Molly hops onto their cart and points somewhere random. East maybe. “Let’s go, then! Where are we off to?”
“Eh, Xhorhas,” Caleb says, like it’s nothing.
“Oh. Uh, where is-” Nott pushes a set of maps into his hands and he looks where Shady Creek is, then runs his finger a long, long way to the border, then to where Nott is vaguely gesturing which is deep in Xhorhas itself. “Plenty of time to fill me in on all the shitshows you’ve gotten into, I suppose.”
“We’ll just teleport to Rosohna in the morning,” Jester says, “Caleb didn’t bring it today in case he had to help with the whole ritual deal.”
Molly blinks and looks about the group, who are a mix between unphased and watching Molly while trying not to laugh. He flops onto the cart bed. “Sure, why the fuck not, we can teleport now.”
They spend the rest of that day, Molly’s rebirthday, hah, ambling down the road catching him up. He savors the story of Lorenzo’s end, that the bald fuck had tried to crawl away from his death. Accidental pirates is a good one too. He gets Jester to draw Darktow, as little of it as she had seen anyways. Then he learns Nott is Veth, Caleb was Bren, Beau’s actually a secret monk spy or something, The Gentleman might be Jester’s dad, Caduceus is on a divine quest, Fjord’s drawl had been fake and also he told a serpent demi god thing to fuck off and… its a lot. He’s missed a lot, and it hurts and makes him feel a little empty, so he keeps asking questions and keeps watching them, stuffing all the new things he learns about this group into the cavity of his chest.
Caleb’s less standoffish, less cowered into his own body waiting for the world to hurt him. Not completely better, but its progress. He even shaves regularly now! Nott drinks less during the day, still lets Molly talk her into going blackout drunk that first night. She seems more centered than before, which is probably the has-a-husband-and-kid thing making her more mature. She also shoves a handful of shiny chains and beads into his pocket that she admits to stealing with a proud grin, so not everything changed.
Fjord seems looser, and once Molly thinks it he reports it to the man himself in those words, waggling his eyebrows at the flushed half-orc. But he’s at ease, less confident and more open. It’s a good look for him. Molly will get used to the accent eventually. Caduceus is a solid rock of calm that Molly has no point of comparison for; maybe he was a panicky mess at the start. Probably not. He’s a good anchor for these flighty fuckers, though. Even calms some of Molly’s manic need to just do with a hand on his shoulder and a warm meal.
Jester seems unchanged at first, and Beau goes back to sniping at Molly when he picks a fight, but the two gravitate towards each other all the time. They’re hip to hip in the cart ride, they pick spots together at camp, they take the same watch. And whenever no one’s focussed on them they lean together, whispering, Jester’s smile tinged sad and with the deep hurt he’s seen in Yasha, and Beau’s grin is so soft that it scrapes hard against that first time she’d tried to smile, a rictus grimace like she wanted to kill everyone in sight.
Jester catches him watching and brightens, waving. He tenses a moment, expecting Beau to hit him for spying on- wait, what was he spying on? They were just talking. More expressive than he ever remembered them being, sure, and he thinks he sees their hands twining together between them. It just feels weirdly intimate, like when he stumbled onto Kylrie and Toya comforting each other, or some roadside proposal between strangers.
It hits him, and his tail lashes so fast it whips into Fjord’s thigh. He yelps and gives Molly a sour look and Molly beams at him. “How come no one told me?” he asks Fjord, tipping his head towards the pair of women.
“Told you what?” Fjord replies, shifting away from Molly’s tail range. “They’re roomies, like you and Yasha were, thought that’d have been obvious.”
Molly purses his lips and shifts over so he can whip Fjord again if he starts being weird. “Yasha and I were not like that! Ugh, she was like a sister, don’t put these images in my head Fjord.”
“Like what?” Fjord says, and Molly’s not going to comment on how many H’s that sounded like because he’s being supportive. “Molls, really, you’re confusing me now.”
Molly slaps a hand over his face and drags it down, saying, “Really! No one told me they’re together? Dating? Come on Fjord you’re killing me, I want the details!”
“... They’re not, though?” Now Fjord looks lost, looking at Beau and Jester, then to Molly. “Maybe you’re confused because Beau’s been, you know, learning to be better recently. She’s like this with most people.” He pauses while Molly tries to parse that one. “Well, no, she embarrassed that foreman guy for extra cash. But with us, like, Caleb and her, you saw some of that. They’re close.”
“Are they stuck at the hip all of the time? Hm?” Molly senses he’s winning and starts putting up fingers for each example. “Do they whisper and giggle to each other? Does Caleb get Beau to drop the tough girl act with a word?”
“No?”
“And do Beau and Jester do any of those things?” Molly leans into Fjord’s shoulder, pointing his head at where the two of them are asleep practically on top of each other, legs and arms wrapping around each other. Gods it was so soft he was gonna throw himself off a tree.
Fjord stares, and stares, and frowns, and moves a little left, then a little right, like the angle might matter. “Uhm. Well. That’s a… pretty convincing case you got there.”
“You dense motherfucker, you didn’t even notice,” Molly laughs. “A few months without my insight into the world and you’re out here working for snake gods and overlooking the most stupidly obvious romance I’ve ever seen.” He cackles louder and Caleb makes a muffled complaint.
“Hey, they didn’t tell me any of this, it isn’t my fault!”
Molly stops to consider that. “They didn’t tell you, or didn’t tell anyone?” he asks.
Fjord rolls his eyes, says, “I think even you could guess how many big heart to hearts this group has on the regular. We haven’t changed that much, Molly.”
“Sooo,” Molly says as he sits up, eyes sparkling, “we have a group of emotionally constipated people, two of whom are an item. Want to bet how many of the Nein actually know about it?”
“Molly,” Fjord says, patiently, “All of the gold you have is what we just gave you, you have nothing to lose.”
“My dignity?”
Fjord just laughs and Molly grins with him, but oh he has a plan now. Beau might murder him when she finds out, but hey, he’s been dead before and apparently these people love him enough to drag him back to life.
—
Molly decides to start with the least likely, which would’ve been Yasha, but… Not right now. He goes to Nott, she married the first man who kissed her so he doubts the goblin-halfling has a wealth of knowledge about this. Cornering her is the hard part, especially once they get to Rosohna. This is partially because he spends half a day exploring the new house and trying to climb the massive bloody tree they put on their roof, the wonderful idiots.
Molly asks which room is whose, to see where he’s sleeping, and is delighted to find Beau and Jester share a room. He is heartbroken to see the flower decorated walls of Yasha’s bed, the faint lining of dust in the corners. Pricking the back of his arm, he paints a delicate moon arc and a simple red rose with his blood, putting his power into it, to make it a promise.
Once he’s done with the house tour, he finds that Nott has ran off to get some supplies. Molly has no fucking clue where anywhere is and Caleb offers to guide him, which is nice, but he wants to get Nott one-on-one. There is a lovely clothing store that does dark colored silks, so he stocks up on those and goes back to the house.
It’s late, he thinks, since everyone has gone to their rooms - only Caleb could tell how late - when Nott comes in. She has a bag of bottles teetering in her arms that Molly goes to help her bring into her room.
“Thanks!” Nott says as she hides each bottle in a different spot along her room.
“Yeah, no problem, isn’t your flask endless?” Molly asks as he twirls one bottle in his hands. It’s cheap whiskey, not even an upgrade from the acid-harsh stuff in the flask.
“One time Jester stole it, so now I keep extras on hand in case things get really bad and she gets worried again,” Nott explains, then takes the bottle Molly has and pops it open to drink before passing it over.
“Oof. Best of intentions, I hope?” Molly asks, remembering the time he had a talk with Nott about stealing some paper from Fjord. Maybe he still had some to do some work on these people. Nott sort of shrugs, sort of nods. “Well, no sense dwelling on what’s been forgiven and forgotten, right?” He takes a swig and coughs; dying is a hell of a way to reset your tolerance, turns out.
“Yeah, we’re cool now.”
They pass the bottle until it’s empty, and Molly is definitely drunk while Nott just seems sleepier. No more drinking contests for this tiefling, sorry Hupperdook. Wait, do they- “Nott do we have those Hupperdook drinking coins? That we won?”
“Uhh, yeah, actually, we sort of left town before we even used them and it’s not like they were gonna hire someone to get some wood back,” Nott says, giggling when she digs hers out of her bag. It’s old and beer stained and Molly’s happy and nostalgic and sad all in one tipsy purple package.
So he’s maybe not being the smoothest he can be when he asks, “So, you got a Yeza? Husband Yeza and Luc son?”
“Oh gods you’re a lightweight now,” Nott says, sounding just a bit horrified. “If you puke you have to clean it up. But yeah, I do. Sorry I didn’t tell you before, it was just kinda… far away, not mine anymore. Y’know?”
Molly did know. “But you wanted it back, and it’s back! That’s good. You’re much too scrappy to not get a happy ending. Nott.” He giggles at his own wordplay and Nott shoves him. “You think anyone else’s gonna be like that? Get all domestic and married and shit?”
“Yeah, you, you’re definitely gonna settle down and be a proper husband to some young lass,” Nott replies dryly, and now Molly shoves her. “No,” she continues, thinking, “I don’t think so. Maybe Caleb when he’s better, in like twenty years. Deuces’ just gonna go back to his graveyard when we’re done, so, he’s married to dead people.”
“Ew.” Molly falls onto Nott’s bed and bangs his head on the wall, forgetting she’s a tiny goblin with a tiny bed. He ignores Nott’s cackling and keeps prodding, “Really, no one? What about Jester, she seems the type.”
“Maybe before, with Fjord, but she’s got some stuff to figure out,” Nott sighs, sad and resigned. “So does he, really, he still slips into Vandren mode sometimes.”
“And… Beau?” Nott snorts and Molly lets her. “That’s fair, she wouldn’t even wear a dress for her own wedding.” Now Nott makes an odd noise, like she’d noticed a spider on the wall, and Molly pokes her.
“She did wear a dress, though, on a random day for no reason? Like, we were at Jester’s place and she and Beau went to change out of the very obvious ‘we are Xhorhassian’ clothes and she came out in a dress.” Nott scrunches her face up, and Molly can kinda imagine the simple halfling girl she’d been before, considering the mysteries of marriage. “Wait, that was Jester’s dress! Why was she- I didn’t even ask about that, my son was there and we were going- what the fuck Molly! What’s going on!”
“Oh,” Molly says. “You picked up on that faster than I thought.”
“The fuck!” Nott shouts again and perches on Molly’s chest to shake him. He just laughs. “Molly!”
“Though you lose some points ‘cause I figured it out the day I came back. Bad detectiving, there.” Nott pinches his cheeks and he pushes at her until she let’s go. “So, take it they didn’t tell you, either? Fjord had no idea.”
“Why wouldn’t she tell me?” Nott wails, scrabbling about for another bottle. “Was I a bad friend, did she not trust me? Was it the flask thing?!” She found one and started working the cork with her teeth, and Molly snatches it out of her hands.
“Okay, slow down. For one, I can’t answer any of that because I was gone, so fuck if I know a thing more than you.” Pushing the bottle into a random drawer, he picks Nott up and puts her in his lap. “Secondly, I don’t think they’ve told anyone. Just kinda, letting us all figure out whenever, no big deal. Don’t really think Beau would want to announce she went soft for someone, right?”
“Oh,” Nott mumbles, calmer and less likely to tear her hair off. “That makes sense. I was just, planning a whole thing for when Jester and Fjord got together but that never happened, and now I don’t get to do it for Beau and Jester.”
“We can do it later,” Molly promises. “First I gotta go rub it in everyone else’s face that I figured it out before them. Keep it a secret for now?” Nott nods and he can hear the gears turning in her devious little head, so he leaves her to it.
On his way back to his room he passes by Yasha’s door again. It’s a tiny bit open, and he can hear soft, hiccuping noises from inside. No sense in someone being sad about what they’re going to fix soon, though, so he goes to lend a shoulder. Only to find Beau’s already doing that for Jester, whose eyes are locked onto the mural as she shakes against the monk.
“It’s going to work, right?” Jester asks. She sounds worn and thin, her hands digging deep into the back of Beau’s robes.
Beau shuffles in place until they’re foreheads are touching, nose to nose. “It’s gonna work. We’re getting her back, then we’re punching Obann and that angel thing and the Hand until they fuck off to wherever they came from.” She pauses a moment, and cups Jester’s cheeks so their eyes meet. Molly once again has the feeling of spying, that watching this must be betraying some unspoken rule, and looks away. “No one else is leaving you, Jess.”
“Leaving us,” Jester responds, quick and fierce. “Promise?” she adds, gentle again.
“Always.”
Molly hurries off to his room, in case they’re done in there. He’s not ready to test how soft Jester’s made Beau, not yet. His plan is still in motion.
—
Next on the list is Caduceus, because it sounds funny to ask the firbolg, who’s about as distant from sex and romance as a grave is, if he knows. And it would be easy to get him alone, he’s always compliant and easy to talk to, but they’re on the open road. From what he understands, they’re still debating about going along filled-with-bandits Hallowed Path or the apocalyptic-devastation highway of the Barbed Fields. He knows without asking they took the horrifying one the first time around.
Also Fjord mentions a thousand foot godly tree so Molly knows where his vote is going.
The air here is hot and dry, scorched clean like only a massive fire can do. The dust tastes of old metals and ash. Some buried sense in Molly’s body prickles as they leave Rosohna and charge on weird giant cat mounts through a restless warzone; he can feel things watching them, some watching him specifically with the knowing look Cree had given him a lifetime ago. Point is, it sucks and he’s on edge and maybe being clingier than normal with his mount-buddy Caduceus. He is a very soft person, though even with Molly’s high heat tolerance the fur rubbing against his face gets to be a little much.
He hears some muttering and a confused cat growl behind him, looks back to see Jester taking one hand off the reins to dab sweat from her face. Right, she’s cold and he’s heat. Beau says something, Jester replies, but they’re moving so fast and the wind’s too loud to hear them. Then Beau slips something out of her pouch and pushes a potion into Jester’s hands, which she downs without hesitation. A moment later Jester’s beaming like normal, a free hand flapping behind her until an exasperated Beau grabs it and squeezes.
It’s kind of sweet, watching them take care of each other in little ways. Reminds him of combing Yasha’s hair, of her picking out flowers for him, of the twins rocking each other to sleep.
He’s so fucking nostalgic since coming back, is that an sideeffect? Random things, sounds, smells make his heart drop low and wrap around itself, leaves him suddenly gasping to fill empty lungs.
Caduceus’ back rumbles against Molly’s cheek and he drags his attention back to the present, asks, “Come again?”
“I was wondering how you were doing, Mr. Mollymauk. You tensed for a moment there.”
Oh, oh! He forgot to do this with his new friend. He clears his throat and with all the showmanship he has, says, “It’s Molly to my friends, and since you’ve cared for this gaggle of fools and helped bring me back, I’m rather afraid we’re forced to be friends, Caduceus.”
“Ah,” Caduceus says, arching his neck to look with one eye at Molly. “That’s lovely, Molly. You can call me Caduceus, or Clay, or Mr. Clay, or, hm, one of those other names the others use. Maybe not Deucie,” he corrects quickly, “I’ve been trying to wean them out of that one.”
“I think I’ll vary it from day to day, since I have so many options.” Caduceus shrugs, uncaring, and Molly presses on. “Since you are clearly the wisest among us, do tell me how Jester has been doing? I can’t imagine she took my passing too well.”
“Oh, no, none of them did,” he says, and his voice is so easy and upfront, like death is an everyday subject for him. Which it probably was, before all this. “Jester was lost for quite awhile. Only recently has she let it out in the open, but I fear it was because things had gotten to be too much.” He hums and turns to look at Jester now, and Molly sees worry set in the arch of his brows; he has a very expressive face, despite being so unlike anything Molly knows. “She comforted me once, during the pirate escapades. And she brought me back to life after an accident. I just worry I wasn’t capable of returning the favor.”
“Nonsense!” Molly says and reaches up, up to pat Caduceus’ cheek. “You think any of these people would be sane or… ah, relatively sane or stable without you? You’ve clearly got the best head out of the lot.” Yasha springs to his mind again, quiet but stable, her presence reliable even when she was gone like she’d left an outline for them to hold close until she was back. “Sometimes a good presence is plenty.”
Caduceus says, “Yasha, right?” and Molly’s throat dries out. He’d heard from the others that Caduceus was a perceptive fuck but that was eerie. “She was pleasant company, yes. She doubted herself plenty, but I think she believed in us and in our purpose. It was good to have that, on the bad days.”
Bad to lose it on the worst day, Molly hears his thoughts whisper from some dark, jagged place.
He shoves that away before Caduceus can dig into his head anymore, changing topics with, “And Beau? She was a porcupine when I left, only really opened up when things were at a breaking point. Probably punched my corpse before they buried it."
“She was as heartbroken as any of them, when we met,” Caduceus states like it doesn’t punch Molly in the gut. “I’m not sure she’s forgiven herself for it, or for a lot of things she won’t tell us.” Molly feels more than hears a soft chuckle. “You’re something of an inspiration to her, though I would ask you not to tell her I told you that.”
Molly laughs through a lump of sand in his throat, “Still up to threaten the life of anyone, huh?”
“No, just worried she’d see it as a betrayal even if I intended it to help. I don’t want to hurt her like that.”
“Oh.”
“Jester’s been good for her, I think. They’re good for each other,” Caduceus says that slower, thoughtful. “They let each other be open, to be kinder to themselves.” He clicks his tongue and hmms, says, “Reminds me of my parents, oddly.”
“Good ones, I hope?” Molly asks.
“Yeah. ‘Course I only knew them after the fact. They were the roots and the branches of a tree,” and Molly laughs in surprise at that analogy; he bets Jester never found that one in her books. Caduceus keeps talking. “They did different things, lived different lives, but together they fed and grew something so much greater than themselves.”
“Kay, that’s unfair, you can’t make a tree sound sweet like that,” Molly grumps.
“Trees are rather sweet, though. They’re great company.”
“... Are you high, like, all of the time?” Molly asks, genuinely interested. Apparently Beau hadn’t been collecting drugs like he’d hoped. Caduceus just laughs, deep and rumbling, as an answer that Molly wants to dig into more, later, when Yasha’s back and they can trip balls together in this haunted land.
—
They’re midway through the Barbed Fields, which are awe inspiring and terrifying. Even Jester’s mask of cheer wears thin when dusk comes, and at this point Molly’s getting exhausted of whatever secrecy they’re pretending at and shoves Beau at the tiefling. She does easily, with only a weak shove back, to wrap an arm around Jester as they both watch the shadows closely.
Apparently very sad, very creepy things just wander around here waiting to stab the fuck out of anyone they see. That’s nice.
But now Molly can see the tree of gods and even from a mile or two away it’s astonishing. The boughs of it eclipse the sun from certain angles, and the beams of dusky-gold light streaming through the leaves is like the finest ornament Molly has ever held. He wants to climb it.
Then a giant screaming bird comes hurtling out of nowhere, Fjord shouts “Oh not again!” and Caleb tells them to buy him a minute before sitting down and doing apparently nothing.
“Fjord what the fuck is going on?” Molly shouts, has to shout over the painful concussions of air that every flap sends out.
“Say hit to our old friend,” Jester says as she bolts behind an outcropping of stone, “the Roc-bat! Well, it is a Roc, I turned it into a bat, and I think it hates us forever!”
Beau’s running between cover spots, throwing daggers at it and growling as they flutter in the air and drop. Molly gets it, he has swords that don’t fly and even his Infernal curses don’t reach that far. “To be fair,” she says as she finally hits it with a rock, dragging its eyes away from Caleb, “I did punch its baby!”
“What’s with you and kids?!” Molly shouts.
“It bit Caleb!”
Seconds pass slowly as they run around shouting at the Roc and do little damage. A few spells scorch its feathers, but the thing has bulk to spare and only squawks at whoever flung the latest one. Then Nott lands a good bolt, piercing part of its neck, and as she jumps to cheer it flies over and picks her up.
“Shit,” Fjord says, “I can’t get up there, it’s too fast!”
Across the way, Jester grabs Beau’s arm and grins. “Trust me?” she asks.
“Duh,” Beau replies, and they fall through a green door and appear above the Roc.
Molly and Fjord watch as two tiny specks run across the back of the bird, trying to balance as it swings around the tree. “So,” Molly says conversationally, “they do that a lot?”
“It’s like their combo move, pop Beau in so she can beat face while Jester gets a good spot.” He shakes his head lightly, laughing at himself, “Can’t believe I didn’t notice they were together.”
“They are what?” Caleb asks, startling them both. “The house is ready, assuming our friends don’t fall off a hundred miles away. That would be inconvenient.”
“I don’t wanna scour this place for them, that’s just boring,” Molly whines. “Needle in a needle stack with needle monsters.” He looks over to Caleb, who’s watching as Jester swings down the Roc’s side to grab at the tiny figure in its claws, Beau holding a rope in one arm as she climbs up to the head of the beast. “Hey, did you know they’re dating?”
“Beau and Nott?” Caleb says blandly. When Molly makes a face and groans Caleb grins, just a little. “Ja, ja, Jester and Beau. I thought it might be possible, but I did not know precisely.” He shrugs, then winces as the bird’s wings freeze and it goes into free fall. “Good thing Nott has feather fall,” he says as Molly begins to panic.
“Congratulations, then, you are the only one to pick up on it without me telling them,” Molly says with a slap on the wizard’s back. The ground quakes under their feet, which probably means the Roc hit ground, and three specks are drifting slowly downwards. “Better go get them over here.”
The Roc is not dead, but retreats to haunt them another day. They find Beau, Jester, and Nott playing with a pile of human-length feathers like its snow, throwing tufts at each other, stuffing them in hair. They go to rest in a mansion that Caleb has been holding out on them because ‘it is a high level spell Molly I did not want to waste it,’ blah blah. It has hot baths.
And even though today was fun amidst the tension and the Roc, something leaden and boiling fills the dining room as they eat, Molly staring resolutely at his plate while the others make half-plans and ideas. Yasha is near. It’s time to fix their family or risk breaking it permanently, and the others are relying on Molly as the winning card.
Good thing Molly always stacks the deck in his favor.
He goes to find Jester as they all retire, and peels her from Beau’s grip for some ‘Tiefling time.’ Then he goes to the baths because they can’t be serious all the time, and he has Cataclysm dust between his toes.
“So,” he begins once they’re suitable naked, pruny, and sweltering. “When did you and Beau get together?”
Jester splutters into the water, sinking down to hide her mouth and purpling cheeks. Some bubbles come out of her mouth.
“I don’t know what you’re saying dear, please come up?”
“We’re not together, of course not! Don’t be, we’re best friends! We’re roomies!” Jester rambles, her hands gesturing sharply and flicking water into Molly’s eye. “You’re just being silly, Molly, come on!”
Molly raises one eyebrow and keeps it there, relaxing in the tub like a person who knows they’re right. He’s maybe a little worried he isn’t right, but Jester’s being way too weird if he’s wrong. Finally, Jester slumps back in the bath with a worried frown.
“Don’t tell the others,” she starts.
Molly cuts her off, “Already did. I thought you were being super obvious in my defense.”
“Molly!” Jester shrieks and splashes him. “Beau didn’t want it to be a big deal! And now everyone knows, she’s gonna be so mad.”
“I’m sure she’ll forgive you, you’re lovely!”
Jester rolls her eyes and pokes him in the chest, hard. “No, angry at you. She’s never really angry at me.” She starts to stand, reaching for her towel.
“Isn’t that sweet. Before you go summon your avenging angel, I have a point to this.” Molly waits until Jester huffs and sits in the tub. “We’re going to get Yasha back, and I wanted to be sure it’d work. And, fuck Jester, I knew her for like eight months and was dead for six, how do I know she’ll care that much?”
Jester makes a low, hurt noise and glides over to hug Molly, and it’s not like he’s going to turn it down when his insides are shivering pieces of jello trying to ooze out of his ribs. “She loves you, Molly,” Jester assures him. “She had a dream about you, not so long ago, and it was a big god dream. That’d only happen if she loved you still.”
He swallows a sob and bumps their horns together. “Thanks, really. But I’ve spent all this time setting up plan B! I want to give it a shot, but it requires you and Beau, and that you don’t really know what it is.”
“Okay, Molly,” Jester sighs and pushes his cheeks together so he’s pouting at her. “Have you met us? All the plans that we actually do know about go so fucking badly! How is a plan only you know going to work at all?”
Molly frees his face and grins, because he’s not confident in a lot of things right now but he’s confident of this. “Two reasons. I know how you two are, and you love each other. Unless… I’m wrong?”
Jester shakes her head instantly, her face set and determined, and Molly kisses her cheek. “Then by this time tomorrow we’ll be together again, trust me!”
—
Yasha is walking with a hulking nightmare that, from descriptions and the raw terror he sees in the others, must be the Laughing Hand. No flying demon man, which is lucky since the Hand is unkillable, unlucky because Molly wants to gut the bastard.
He runs in with Beau to hold the threats down, let the casters do their work. Briefly Fjord joins them in the melee before popping out because of that fucking blink spell, but it’s fine. There’s a plan. But first, he has to try the Nein’s original idea.
He pulls Yasha’s attention to himself, landing light slices along her arms and legs, annoying but not dangerous. When the cruel, rusted blade of the Skingorger swings towards Molly it seems to waver and slam into the dirt. Then Yasha swings again and carves across Molly’s chest. He’d forgotten how much damage Yasha could do, fucking hells, he feels dizzy from that one hit.
The fight wears on, the Hand proving if not immortal than extremely hard to knock down, and Beau’s not looking too hot either. Spells are flying over their heads, only the weakest hitting Yasha, and they’re fighting with one arm behind their damn backs right now. They aren’t going to win like this.
Yasha swings, and Molly takes the hit and rolls away on the momentum; his vision goes dark for a moment and if he goes unconscious right now he may as well cut his own damn throat. But a shock of pain wakes him up and he staggers to his knees, watches as Fjord drops the blink for the ice armor, letting Beau dart to keep Yasha from charging the clerics.
If this gets her killed, he’s cutting his throat and then letting Beau ghost-murder him.
He pulls himself upright, holding his hands to the gashes along his body, and limps towards Beau and Yasha. Beau who’s pulling her punches, who’s losing, who isn’t going to last another hit. Molly couldn’t get there in time, anyway, but having to watch Yasha plunge the tip of the sword through Beau hurts. Is this what she saw, on the Glory Run, what she felt? Gods, he’s so sorry.
Jester screams in protest and barrels into Yasha, but however strong Jester is Yasha’s gotten stronger, and slowly forces Jester to her knees beside Beau’s bleeding body. The greatsword rises in the air, sunlight glinting ruby red along blood and rust, and Molly grabs her wrists with his hands and struggles to hold her back.
“Yasha,” he pleads, tastes blood in his mouth, hears the horrid mockery of laughter, Jester’s soft sobs as she tries to muster healing. “You’re in there. You are. And you remember Zuala, right?”
The pressure against his faltering arms weakens, her muscles relaxing a fraction, but he can work with that, even if twisting this years old knife means cracking his own heart. “Zuala was taken from you, and that was wrong and horrible, if you went and killed them I wouldn’t blame you,” Molly says. Yasha’s face is stony, but a tear leaks from one eye. “It wasn’t fair to take Zuala from you,” and he steps back, out of her sight, so all Yasha sees is Beau bleeding out and Jester’s stricken, broken face.
“Don’t take her Zuala from her, Yash.”
Skingorger drops to the ground with a meaty thunk and Yasha staggers backwards, hands over her mouth. Molly can still hear her quiet “No no no no” until she bumps into the back of the Laughing Hand. She turns to look at him, it, and something gleams under its drooping hood.
“Well, what are you waiting for, Yasha?” Fjord calls.
The fight is a bloody mess after that. Fjord and Molly manage to carve the sword-arm off it, and Yasha takes it up and slices into its torso. Caduceus runs by and makes the blade glow holy and warm, Caleb points and makes Yasha faster, deadlier. Beau, bloodied but grinning bright with joy and adrenaline, hops onto its back and pushes her hands into a dozen places until it freezes in place.
For all the pain, it feels right, like every piece has slotted back together, like every hero story Molly has ever remembered; all of them together, whole, and murdering the shit out of this laughing monstrosity until it has so many mouths its body splits apart at the seams.
“Take that, undying thing,” Molly spits at it. “I came back, but you won’t.”
Then Jester punches him across the face, cracking his jaw a bit. “Don’t put her in danger like that!” she cries, and grabs his neck like she might strangle him, but, hey, it worked, he doesn’t mind a little choking. “Say it! You’re never making Beau the bait ever again!”
“I’m nev’r makin’ Beau the bait ‘ver again,” he manages around her grip. Then she’s hugging him so hard he might die of broken ribs, instead.
Jester drops him shortly, runs up to Beau, and smothers the woman in kisses and soft, worried touches to the barely-healed scars. Beau flushes brilliantly dark and whispers something to Jester, who shouts, “Oh they all know already! Apparently we were pretty obvious, but! Now we don’t have to hide all the time!” She kisses Beau’s nose and nuzzles her, adding, “They don’t mind, right guys?”
“You’re gross and I don’t want you doing this in front of Luc!” Nott calls. “Otherwise I’m very happy and please don’t fuck while we’re nearby!”
The rest mutter varying levels of agreement, which is enough to let Beau sag into her girlfriend’s arms and accept the comfort with only mild embarrassment. Yasha just watches them with a forlorn, sorrowed look. Molly limps over to pat her arm, grins when she looks down at him.
“Sorry,” she says, like a reflex, flinching away from a blow. “What do… how can they trust me now? What do I do now?”
“From what I understood, the Nein had a four part plan. Step one was get me back, two was find you, three was free you, and I think… four is going to be waking up tomorrow and having a nice breakfast with your family.” Molly grins and elbows her, and she sways on the spot. A solid breeze or a nice word could topple the poor dear. Alas, Molly’s not feeling too gentle right now.
“We love you, and we got you back. Besides, don’t you want to hear all about Jester and Beau? I haven’t gotten the story out of them, either.”
Yasha grins sheepishly, and takes small, single steps towards the campsite their family’s making. Then Fjord pushes Molly some feet away, takes Yasha’s arm, and asks, “You willing to come with me, this time?”
She nods and they teleport in a roar of thunder, tripping over Nott’s body and falling into a heap on top of Caleb. There’s laughter, and gentle teasing of Beau and Jester’s big secret, and all of them gently coaxing Yasha to stop apologizing and have some tea.
Molly’s missed this so much.