Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Aurens Povarot is working the desk at the offices of the Cerberus Assembly in the Soltryce Academy. He hates the post, but anything to get into the good books of the professors so he can be accepted. Most days it is quiet, people arriving for arranged meetings with the Headmaster or his council. But not today.

 Today, at around 2:30pm, the doors to the foyer burst open and in stride three figures. They're dressed in incredible vestments, leather armour, with visible weapons on two of the individuals. Adventurers with money to their name. The group stride straight past Aurens and he leaps to his feet.

 "Um, I'm sorry, you can't just go in there! Do you have an appointment with one of the professors?" The group rounds on him and Aurens gulps.

 They look pissed.

There are two female half-elves and a human man, fairly youthful years and muscular in the way adventurers are. Aurens knows powerful magic when he sees it and this group sings with it. From the long blue cape over the human's shoulder; to the gnarled staff the red-headed half elf carries; to the beautiful bow slung across the shoulder of the dark-haired half elf, the power is incredible. And, oh shit, is that white dragon hide armour she's wearing? Aurens is quickly regretting his decision to stop them.

"Young man, we have a severe complaint to make. I want to speak to the Headmaster," says the dark-haired half elf, her accent distinctly Tal-doreian.

 "Um, I'm afraid the headmaster is in a meeting? Maybe you could make an appointment?" Aurens tries and she only looks more angry.

"Darling, I did not travel halfway across the world specifically to make this complaint to be told I need an appointment," she hisses and the man gently takes her arm.

 "Vex, dear, leave the boy alone, he's just doing his job," says the other half elf placatingly. Then the man turns his steely blue eyes and Aurens who shirks despite himself.

"Tell the Headmaster Lord and Lady de Rolo of Whitestone and the Voice of the Tempest wish to see him, urgently. The name Vox Machina may help." Aurens nods, stumbling around his desk.

He knows Vox Machina. He has heard about them, about their heroic tales from only a couple of years ago. They’re not quite a household name here in Wildemount, but he runs in the right circles to know them. The three in front of him can only be Lady Vex'ahlia, Lord Percival and Lady Keyleth.

Aurens bows to them and skitters up to the office where Headmaster Zivan Margolin is having a meeting with several other archmages. He knocks sharply on the door, which opens by itself.

"Yes?" spits the headmaster, clearly unhappy with being interrupted in their meeting with Archmage Trent Ikithon and Lady Vess DeRogna.

 "Headmaster, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt but you have some very important visitors."

 "Can't they wait?" huffs Lady DeRogna. "We're busy."

 "I'm very sorry, madame, but they are very insistent. Its, ah, they are members of Vox Machina. Lady and Lord de Rolo of Whitestone and The Voice of the Tempest. They are insistent on speaking with you, Headmaster."

Archmage Trent Ikithon sighs. "We can't risk offending the de Rolos. Whitestone is the only producer of residuum glass."

"Fine, fine," says the headmaster, getting up. "Trent, Vess, let us go see what these ex-heroes want."

Aurens bows and heads out of the office, leading down the headmaster and archmages. As they enter the foyer, the members of Vox Machina are waiting for them.

 Before the Headmaster can say anything, the posture of the heroes changes. Lady Vex'ahlia reaches for the quiver on her back, other hand on her bow. Lord Percival places on hand deliberately on the weapon at his side, his firearm. Lady Keyleth's hands catch fire. And Aurens swears that for just a second, he sees a fourth figure between the half-elves. Black armour where Lady Vex’ahlia’s is white, teeth drawn back in a snarl and glowing daggers held out in an offensive stance.

 "So," says Lady Vex'ahlia, her voice like ice. "Care to explain why you've been experimenting on children with residuum glass?

“So, care to explain why you’ve been experimenting on children with residuum glass?”

Percy can hear the quiet, insidious anger in his wife’s voice as he rests one hand on Animus, the other on Manners, prepared for these mages to have an issue. They had heard that their new partners cannot be trusted fairly rapidly after opening trade with them. So, they had sent Jarett, an excellent spy himself to investigate the Cerberus Assembly. And Jarett, trustworthy as ever, had found out about the experiments. So here they stand, not 5 years after the destruction of Vecna, still fixing problems. The archmage wearing the fanciest robes, likely the headmaster, coughs slightly.

“Ah, Archmage Ikithon, would you like to explain the nature of your training?” they suggest and the mage opens his mouth to speak when prompted and Vex’s hand twitches on her bow.

“I don’t believe my wife was quite clear,” Percy says, his voice dripping with all the false courtesy his noble-born background provided him. “We do not care what you have been doing, we just want it to end. Now.”

“You must understand,” says the mage who as to be Ikithon and Keyleth hisses in the back of her throat, the Spire of Conflux glowing bright and angry.

“No,” she spits and Percy hasn’t heard her this angry since they dealt with Raishan. “You understand this; it will stop now. You will show us your proteges and you will end this torture, Archmage.”

“And if I refuse?” presses Ikithon and Percival draws Animus in a blink.

“I’m sure you’re powerful, archmage, but I assure you, we are faster. We are members of Vox Machina; the Slayers of the Chroma Conclave, the defeaters of Vecna, the Undying One, God of Secrets,” says Percy, his voice level.

“So, unless you think you’re more powerful than a god,” simpers Vex, Fethras drawn. “I would back down and do as you are told.” Ikithon looks like he will challenge for a second longer, but Percy’s gaze never wavers and he finally backs down.

“Take them to see the boy,” he mumbles quietly to the man who had been sat at the desk. Percy speaks up,

“This ends now, Headmaster, Archmage Ikithon. Whitestone will provide you no more residuum.”

“But what about our research?” protests the other archmage before quailing as they wheel around on her.

“You should have considered that before you decided to torture children,” spits Vex’ahlia and she follows the other who was at the desk out, anger still glowing in her eyes. Percival sheaths Animus and follows her immediately, Keyleth behind him.

“Can you believe them?!” explodes the druid as they head through the winding corridors. “Justifying the torture of children as though it was some simple tinkering project." Vex nods, seething through her teeth,

“If they weren’t so high up in the magical community, I would have put an arrow through his eye socket. Where are we going?” she asks their guide sharply.

“To our small medical wing, Lady de Rolo,” murmurs the man, clearly shaken by the experience. “The youngest of Trent’s proteges is there. He was due to be sent to the asylum in two days.”

“The asylum?” echoes Keyleth, her voice stormy.

“He is very unwell, Lady Keyleth. He will not speak Common and has attempted to seriously harm himself several times in the last few days.”

“And their brilliant idea is to lock away this traumatised child?” hisses Percy. He knows enough about being lost in his own head, about being locked away and afraid. He can’t imagine anything worse than that for this child. “Show us.” And their guide picks up the pace. Soon, they reach a set of locked and guarded heavy doors, with the muffled sounds of screaming from inside.

“Um,” says the secretary. “Archmage Trent Ikithon has instructed me to show these people to his student.” The guards glance over at them and nod, moving to open the door.

And Percy enters a place of misery. There is only one out of the four beds in this room filled and the boy in it is making a desperate racket, screaming and crying and begging in a language Percy does not speak. He is tied to the bed with belts which are leaving deep red welts on his arms, matching with the deep and rough scars that litter his arms.

The residuum must have been inserted into his arms, thinks Percy and immediately feels sick. Keyleth is immediately at his side, murmuring softly to the boy.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, child, you’re going to be okay.” He simply whimpers and thrashes under her hands. He’s pale, paler than Percy which is unusual considering his climate and his hair is the colour of fire, shorn short against his head.

Vex gives Percy a desperate look and Percy makes a decision.

“Release him. Does he have living relatives?”

“No, Lord de Rolo,” replies the secretary quietly.

“Release him. We will take him back to Whitestone and care for him.” No matter that Vex and he already have two young children, this boy, likely only 16 or 17 years old, needs their help. The secretary seems nervous and Keyleth scowls.

“Coward. He’s just afraid.” And she takes her own dagger, cutting the bonds loose. “I will try to help, see if I can do anything.” She pauses, placing her hand on his forehead and the boy whimpers, going still under the druid’s touch. She smiles reassuringly and murmurs quietly, her hands glowing green. The boy goes limp, eyes wide. He looks astounded and grateful.

“There we go,” says Keyleth gently. “There we go, child. Would you like to leave here?” He nods, vigorously and Vex comes over to help Keyleth pick him up. He is wary of the contact, but also too weak to resist it.

“We’re leaving,” declares Vex, as Percy flanks her. “Do not try to stop us.” And with that, the members of Vox Machina turn tail and leave, carrying the boy gently between them.

Chapter Text

Percy is at a slight loss with the boy. It has been 4 days since they brought home the lost child from Rexxentrum with the scars on his arms and he has not uttered a word in Common. Keyleth assures him that she broke some kind of false memory with her Greater Restoration spell, but it hasn't seemed to help much.

The boy remains in his room, silent and barely sleeping or eating. Percy has provided him with paper, charcoal, ink, small mechanical toys, all to no avail. He hasn't left him alone for longer than half an hour and one of them, either Vex, himself or Keyleth has been with him at all times. Being alone panics him. And Percy can understand that. He sleeps in the chair beside the boy’s bed at night, which makes Vex slightly worried for Percy’s health, but mainly proud of his care. The boy has such terrible nightmares; Percy could never leave him.

But today, Percy is going to bring him some books. Some fairytales, nothing too serious or heavy, but perhaps something he likes. As he enters, three books under his arm, the child and Keyleth, who is sat with him, both startle.

 "Just me," Percy says quietly and they relax. "Go on, Kiki." And Keyleth nods, smiling reassuringly to the boy as she leaves. Percy comes to sit down in the vacant chair and places the books on the bedside table.

He does not miss the boy's immediate glance towards them.

"They're for you," Percy says, quietly. "They're fairytales and folk stories." Hesitantly, the teen reaches out and Percy smiles encouragingly. He grasps one book of the pile but as he does, the ink well which was precariously balanced on the table falls. Instantly, the boy drops the book and catches the ink well, covering his hands in the rich black fluid. He looks like he's going to cry and hunches away immediately.

"Hey, hey, good catch. It's okay, we can clean your hands," Percy reassures him, his voice gentle as he takes the ink well from the boy's trembling hands. "It’s okay, little Inkling, it's okay." He recognises the way that the boy cowers away, eyes wide and afraid. He is expecting to be punished. Percy himself wore the same expression so many times under Doctor Ripley. Percy raises his hands, gentle and non-threatening.

“It’s okay, Inkling, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to punish you.” He places the ink well down and sticks his head out of the door, coming face to face with the guards there. “Bring me a basin of warm water and some soap.” The guard bows and hurries off. Percy closes the door and comes back inside. The boy has curled up on himself, trembling. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Percy tries but he doesn’t really know how to help with this. Vex is better at the soft and reassuring affection. So, Percy sits quietly, non-threatening and waits. After a minute, the boy uncurls slightly and blinks, unsure what to do. Percy gives him a smile, placing the dropped book on his lap.

“Inkling, is that okay? I don’t want to call you something you don’t like.” The boy frowns, the idea of being asked what he thinks seems odd to him, but he nods. “Inkling it is then. Just until you are ready to talk and tell me the name you want me to use. But no rush, Inkling. It is okay.” The boy holds his ink stained hands close to his chest, but his bright blue eyes consistently flick down to the book in his lap. “Let’s get you cleaned up then you can take a look at the book, yeah?” They sit together silently until there is a knock on the door and Percy opens it, taking the basin off the guard. Slowly, he brings over the warm water, placing it gently on the bed beside Inkling.

After a moment, Inkling places his hands into the warm water, picking up the soap and beginning to scrub his hands clean. It only takes a few moments to remove the ink, but the boy continues to scrub at his hands viciously, causing them to become red and inflamed.

“Woah, woah, Inkling,” Percy says, reaching out to take the basin away, not touching the boy at all. That seems to help a little as Inkling stops, holding his hands carefully. “It’s okay, they’re clean now. They’re clean now,” Percy murmurs, his voice low and somehow, he feels like he’s talking about something much deeper than the boy’s hands. Inkling trembles a little and there are tears in his eyes, but Percy doesn’t say anything. He merely takes away the basin, placing it on the floor and settles back in his chair. Blue eyes meet. Nothing is said. And then, carefully, cautiously, Inkling picks up the book that Percy had placed in his lap and the gunslinger smiles.

Progress. Slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

Percy takes out a notebook and a stub of charcoal and begins to note down some designs for a small mechanical piece that he hopes Inkling will like. It is a small mechanical figure which shifts as though reading a book. The piece will be difficult, but it isn’t like Percy doesn’t enjoy a mechanical challenge. He glances quickly over at the boy who has immediately immersed himself in the book of folk lore from the Parchwood Forest, his brows furrowed in concentration and yet he looks more relaxed than Percy has ever seen him. Good. He thinks that he could possibly make this wind-up clockwork toy in a couple of days; he has made similar but simpler and sturdier pieces for his children, Vax’ildan and Vesper. He made Vax a little cart which has moving wheels but you can also wind it to make it move by itself, given a little push. And he made tiny little Vesper a small, spinning bear figurine which she watches for hours. Hopefully, he can make something a little more complex for Inkling, as he is not 5 years and 18 months old.

 They sit together silently for hours, Percy drawing out the blueprints for his mechanical figurine, Inkling devouring the books that Percy has brought. In the evening, Vex’ahlia comes to the door and Inkling jumps but relaxes upon seeing the familiar face.

“Hello, dear,” says Percy, standing up to kiss Vex’s nose.

“I brought you both some food,” says Vex softly. “You have remembered that Keyleth is going to fetch the others in a few days.” Percy nods. Vox Machina meet up so commonly, helped obviously by Scanlan’s use of the Wish spell to cast Teleport or Keyleth’s Transport Via Plants.

“Yes, I remember. I don’t know if Inkling will want to meet them yet. We will see, right, Inkling?” The boy looks up from his book and gives a slight nod. “Don’t want to overstimulate him and Grog and Scanlan are definitely that.”

“Inkling,” echoes Vex’ahlia with a smile and the boy in question shrugs shyly and gestures to Percy expressively. “I like it. It suits you, darling.” He glances side to side, unsure how to respond to that and buries his face in his book, making Vex chuckle softly. “Here you go, I’ll put this here.” Vex places a tray down, with bowls of thick rich stew and slices of a dark bread. Percy smiles widely. Perfect comfort food. Inkling only pauses for a second, before placing down his book and accepting the bowl from Vex when she offers it. That’s so much better than the first day he was in Whitestone, when he refused to eat until Percy seemed preoccupied with something else.

“Vex, darling, will you sit with Inkling tonight? Is that okay?” Percy asks, the question addressed to them both. Vex nods immediately and Inkling gazes up at him, blue eyes wide and fearful. “I’ll be back before bedtime, dear. I just want to go work on some tinkering things, okay?” Inkling pauses and then nods. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.” Taking his stew, Percy hurries down to the workshop, determined to make a strong start on this figurine tonight.

In the next few hours, Percy has managed to construct the mechanics of the figure, but none of the design. It is getting late and he really doesn’t want to leave Inkling alone on an evening. He returns to the large guest room that the boy is staying in. Percy didn’t want him to feel trapped.

The evening is fairly relaxed, with Inkling already starting to fall asleep when Percy arrives, so he doesn’t startle terribly when he enters. Vex gives Percy a quick kiss before heading to bed herself, letting the gunslinger take up his usual position in his chair, ready to help the boy through his nightmares.

Inkling sleeps fitfully, mumbling in the language that Percy does not recognise, but after some research, has decided is likely the native tongue of the farming community in the Zemni Fields. He doesn’t speak any himself, but he is considering learning a few phrases to help the boy feel more at peace.

 It takes Percy two days to complete the mechanical figurine, a little brass man with a tiny book open in his hands. When wound, the man leans down to look at the book, turns to the second page, then closes the book with a soft creak. He’s really rather happy with it. He takes it to Inkling as soon as it is complete and its fairly late at night again. The boy is sat upright, reading himself. He has been rapidly working his way through all of the books on folk lore and mythology in the library of Whitestone Castle, but Percy is hesitant to give him other types of book in case they trigger something in him. He looks up immediately as the gunslinger enters and tilts his head inquisitively.

“Hey, Inkling, Kiki,” says Percy, smiling at Keyleth who is reading a book on animal husbandry. “I’ve got a gift for you.” He holds out the little man to the boy who immediately closes his book and reaches out before retracting his hands.

“It’s okay, Inkling,” Percy encourages. “It’s for you.” Cautiously, the teen accepts the mechanical figure, running his fingertips over the finely worked brass. “If you turn the key, he moves.” Inkling does slowly wind the figure and his blue eyes go wide as he watches the head turns and tilts.

“That’s beautiful, Percy,” says Keyleth, beaming. Percy shrugs a little. He likes to use his talent in creating things for beautiful things these days. Ever careful, Inkling places the figurine on his bedside table and for the first time, Percy sees a ghost of a smile across the boy’s lips.

Progress indeed.

Chapter Text

Vex’ahlia de Rolo likes Inkling. She is not as unsure as her husband when it comes to dealing with trauma. She knows that to get the boy to trust her, she has to prove herself to not be a threat. So, she takes to sitting with Inkling during the evenings when Percy is working in the shop or during the mornings when he is playing with their children.

Vax’ildan is especially interested in Inkling.

“Who is the boy with the red hair, Mama?” he had asked immediately after seeing him.

“He’s very unwell, little raven,” she had replied, whilst braiding his long hair. “He has been hurt very badly by some very mean people. And we are going to look after him. But you and Vesper need to leave him alone for now, okay, darling?”

“Why, Mama?” ‘Why’ is his favourite word.

“So that he can get better,” she had replied, poking a few flowers into the five-year old’s braid. “I will introduce you when he is feeling ready, okay?”

“Okay!” Vax had replied and immediately run off to play outside.

That had been nearly 10 days ago, 2 days after they had returned with Inkling.

Now, it is late in Whitestone. Vax and Vesper have been asleep for hours, put to bed by Percy as Vex sits with Inkling. Tonight, he is reading a book on folklore in Tal’Dorei as a whole and occasionally, he moves to wind the small brass man which Percy had built for him. Vex is happy that he is so enamoured with the little creation.

She is fletching arrows herself.

They don’t hunt and fight half as much as they used to, but Vox Machina still run off on stupid excursions and Vex’ahlia still goes hunting in the Parchwood Forest fairly regularly so she continues to fletch her own arrows. It was always something that she found calming.

Her and Vax used to sit back to back. He would sharpen his daggers and she would fletch her arrows, usually in some back-alley tavern and anyone who came near them would get a patented icy stare from them both and soon back off.

She misses him. Of course, she does, he was her twin, the other half of her soul. But that doesn’t mean she isn’t happy.

She loves Percival and she loves her children. And in the end, her and Percy help each other with the difficulties of mourning.

So, yes. She misses her twin, but she moves on with her life and she knows that that is what Vax would have wanted.

Honestly, she thinks that if Vax had been alive when they went to go challenge the Cerberus Assembly, Archmage Trent Ikithon would have been dead before he could have tried to defend himself. She will never forget the fierce look in his eyes so long ago when he realised that the Briarwoods had executed a child to dress as Vox Machina. He always did care deeply about children.

Vex glances up at Inkling who is quietly winding the little brass man.

“Okay, child?” she asks softly and gets a shy nod from the boy. He had eaten better today. Accepting the food without hesitation and he ate it all. “Good.”

She returns to carefully fletching her arrows on the little table which is set between them as a beside table. They are quiet for a long time, almost twenty minutes when Inkling shifts. Out of the periphery of her vision, she watches as he nervously places his hand on the table across from where Vex’ahlia is fletching arrows. She doesn’t look directly at him, not wanting to spook him, but slowly, she places down her arrows and feathers and gently takes his hand in her own. Inkling trembles slightly under her touch but he doesn’t pull away and Vex’ahlia gives a secretive little smile. She only holds his hand for a moment before gently realising it and Inkling draws his hand back.

It is all about slowly introducing him to stimuli.

It is early afternoon the next day when Vex’ahlia hears it. There is a rich and deep tenor singing coming from Inkling’s room. It is easily recognisable as Percy’s and though she cannot speak Celestial, it is the only language that is so lyrical. She quietly shuffles up to the room, happy to leave her children in the hands of the nanny for just a moment longer. The door is cracked open and Percy is sat, looking at Inkling and singing away in Celestial. It is so beautiful.

It had been a complete fluke to try Celestial, Percy muses. He speaks several languages, but it hadn’t occurred to him to attempt to speak different ones with Inkling. He wants to take it slow, to allow him to acclimatise. But Inkling has been in Whitestone for nearly two weeks now. And he is doing so much better.

Vex’ahlia had told him excitedly over breakfast how he had allowed her to hold his hand for a moment the night before and Percy couldn’t help but feel so proud of how far the child had come. And so, after playing with Vax’ildan and reading to Vesper that morning, he had gone to see Inkling. He still doesn’t leave him alone for longer than thirty minutes at a time, but the boy seems okay with that, as long as Percy returns promptly and is always there for bed.

Percy had brought some paperwork to fill in and had absent-mindedly started mumbling to himself in Celestial:

“No, no. That’s the wrong shipment to Emon, they’ll have my head.”

“Oh, good, yes, those orders have stopped.”

“Mmm, Vasselheim are getting cocky…”  Then, quietly, so quietly that Percy almost missed it, there is a soft,

“Where is Vasselheim?”  in Celestial and Percy looks up immediately. Inkling is not looking at him, but there is no denying it was him who had spoken. Percy, determined not to make a fuss, replies,

“In Issylra, far East of here. Around 3 to 4 weeks on a boat and maybe 2 weeks on an airship. But mainly Keyleth took us via the spell she used to bring us here.”

“Oh. I see,” replies Inkling and Percy almost cries with joy. But he doesn’t want to draw attention to it, so he just says,

“I am the only one who speaks Celestial, Inkling. Aside from Pike who is coming over in the next two days. But do not feel pressured to speak Common or Celestial. Take your time.” Inkling glances up at him, quick and shy.

“Thank you, Lord de Rolo.”

“Oh, but you can’t call me that, Inkling. Just Percy.” And a twitch of a smile makes it on to the boy’s face.

“Percy. It is nice in Celestial.”

“Pike always said that too. I am going to the library to pick up a trade ledger, do you want another book? I have a few books in Celestial, if you would like?” Inkling nods and taps the edge of the book he is reading carefully.

“Yes please. Thank you, Percy.”

“Anytime, Inkling.”

And Percy leaves, walking straight into his wife whose eyes are wide and excited. He hushes her and tugs her out of earshot.

“He was! He was speaking, yes?!” Percy nods, beaming himself.

“He was! I was just musing in Celestial, I do it all the time without thinking about it and he replied and, oh, Vex’ahlia, dear, I’m so proud of him!”

“Me too, oh, he’s doing so well!”

“Yes, yes, but we have to not expect anything else. This has been a lot recently. Speech and minor touch? We need to be careful and gentle. I don’t want him to go backwards,” Percy warns, as they head to the library together.

“Yes, yes. We will talk to the rest of the family when they get here in a few days and make sure they don’t expect anything of him. I know we’ve already pushed their visit back but he needs space.”

“I think we should advise against Grog spending a lot of time with him. Maybe Scanlan too?”

“I think Grog just won’t know how to deal with him,” says Vex as they turn down towards the library.

“We’ll be careful. Oh, I’m so proud of him,” whispers Percy, almost reverently.

“He’s doing so well,” Vex agrees and she kisses Percy’s cheek. “You’re good with him.” Percy smiles, blushing a little. “Now, I’m going to find our little runaways. I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you darling,” he calls as she heads off.

“Love you too!”

And Percy enters the library, picking up the ledgers and then he spends several minutes selecting very specific books in Celestial that he hopes that Inkling will like.

He is going to continue to support this child without any reservations or expectations.

Chapter Text

Bren is unsure about his position. He has been staying in Whitestone for 13 days now and he's still nervous. The de Rolos have taken him in and he doesn't know why.

Lord de Rolo, Percy, as he insists on Bren calling him, is kind.

 He is younger than Bren had expected for a lord, definitely not old enough to be Bren's own father. But his hair is pure, shock white.

Bren likes Percy.

Percy doesn't push him to talk; he doesn't mind that Bren is too afraid to leave this room he has been given; he doesn't leave him alone.

He likes the nickname Percy has given him too in lieu of knowing his actual name. Inkling. It's gentle and affectionate. And it makes Bren think that when he is ready to talk more, he will choose a new name.

 Bren doesn't feel like his name anymore.

 Bren is dead.

 Bren died with his parents. For now, he is Inkling until he can find a name that fits.

He has been reading everything that Percy can bring him, devouring tales of Tal'Dorei, of Whitestone and of general history as much as he can. He is so grateful for the books, something which he is used to and feels safe with. Percy is far too good to him. He doesn't deserve his kindness but he can't bring himself to refuse it.

 He can't bring himself to speak Common, or even Elvish which he knows Lady Vex'ahlia and Lady Keyleth will speak. Common and to a large part Zemnian were languages that Trent Ikithon taught him in. Elvish, he was taught at the Academy. They're so ingrained in his experiences there that he can't bring himself to speak them without choking. Celestial is safe. Bren, Inkling? Bren taught himself to speak celestial. So, when Percy began to speak the lyrical language, he took a chance. It had definitely been worth it to see the way Percy had perked up but tried to hide his pride and joy at Bren finding his voice.

He likes Lady Vex'ahlia too. She is reassuring and quiet and expects nothing from him. He sees her less as she is often looking after other things. Bren thinks that she and Percy have children of their own, not that he has met them yet. But when she sits with him on an evening, the atmosphere is calm, relaxed.

At first, Bren had worried about the large bear who followed her around, huge and armoured, but the bear seems... understanding? He looks at Bren with a protective nature. And once, when a guard startled him enough to cause a panic attack, the bear nuzzled and rumbled at him until Bren calmed down. Lady Vex'ahlia had severely berated the guard and had sat with Bren until he had calmed, even though Percy had joined them. Her easy nature was why Bren felt confident enough to reach out yesterday. He just feels more comfortable around them all now.

Even with Lady Keyleth who isn't around all that much. She seems incredibly powerful and yet so kind. She clearly doesn't live in Whitestone but spends a significant amount of time there. She sits quietly with him, often reading various books about animals or plants. He doesn't know a lot about this type of information but it's fine. She always seems happy to just exist with him.

 She hasn't been here for the last few days and Percy and Lady Vex'ahlia have been talking about the Other Members of the family. Bren is unsure about meeting these other members. It's taken him 2 weeks to get used to these three. He definitely won't be able to talk to them.

And he really hopes that Percy and Lady Vex’ahlia aren’t upset with that. He hopes they still like him.

The fourteenth day in Whitestone dawns bright and cold. Bren had slept poorly, waking sharply in the middle of the night, his hands on fire, choking on his own breaths. Percy had jolted upright, glasses askew and had murmured reassuringly in Celestial until he could breathe again. It is common for this to happen now and it gives Bren a small amount of comfort to have this constant presence, which is gentle, even if he doesn’t believe he deserves it.

Percy is still asleep, curled over the arm of his chair and Bren smiles shyly. Routine. He likes routine and this is so very usual.

As the sunlight filters into the room, he picks up his current book, on the fairy tales of Marquet which is a nearby country. He is deep in a tale of Dev’ossa, an adult brass dragon who is said to protect the city of Ank’harel when Percy stirs, sitting up slowly.

“Morning, Percy,” he greets quietly in Celestial and he definitely doesn’t miss the flash of happiness across Percy’s face at hearing him speak.

“Good morning, Inkling. The other members of Vox Machina are coming today. Will it be okay if they come to see you?” Bren pauses. He doesn’t know what to say to that. Will he be? He doesn’t want to disappoint Percy.

“Yes,” he replies, only a slight lie but Percy seems to recognise it immediately.

“Okay, Inkling. We’ll do it one by one, huh? Start with Pike and work our way up to Scanlan and Grog, the more boisterous members of our crew.” He goes quiet for a second and mumbles in Common, “Vax would have loved you…” Bren doesn’t know the name, but he knows the tone. Whoever this ‘Vax’ is, he was important to Percy and he is no longer with them. Bren marks his page in the book and reaches out, touching his fingertips to the back of Percy’s hand. The man startles.

“Okay, Percy. Thank you,” he says quietly in Celestial and Percy looks up, giving him a weak smile.

“It is okay, Inkling. I’ll let you change and go find some breakfast,” he replies as is their usual morning routine. And Percy leaves.

The morning passes quickly, with Bren sitting in the chair beside the window, which he had begun to migrate to only a few days ago. He likes to watch the birds that fly around the garden at the back of Whitestone Castle. Vex is sat with him currently, humming slightly to herself until something surprises her.

“Oh! Hey everyone. Yes, I’m up at the castle. I’ll come meet you.” Then she pauses and Bren turns to her. She is not speaking to anyone, but holding her earring carefully, the one that matches Percy’s.

“Yes, I’m with him. No, I’ll check.” And she takes her hand away to give him a reassuring smile.

“Would it be okay if I slip out for a moment? Percy will be here in ten minutes with some of the other members of Vox Machina. Is that okay?” Bren nods, easily. He is prepared for this. And being alone is less scary as long as he knows that Percy or Vex or even Keyleth will return soon. It helps reduce his anxiety. Vex gives him a radiant smile and gets up, putting her hand back to her ear.

“Yes, he’s good, I’m coming…” And she slips out of the door, leaving him alone. It is peaceful and he watches the birds, smiling faintly. Sure enough, about 11 minutes later, Percy sticks his head in the door and smiles.

“Hey, Inkling,” he says, in the comforting tones of Celestial. “Is Pike okay to come in?” Bren nods, still unsure as to why Percy asks things like this. It is his home after all; what Bren wants is not really relevant. But Percy’s smile only grows, and he ushers in a small figure. Pike, as Percy had referred to her as, is a gnomish woman, with tied back white hair, very similar to Percy’s own. She is wearing relaxed clothes and a small symbol of a god on a cord around her neck.

“Hey, Inkling,” she says and Bren startles a little at the Celestial. He waves very slightly, nerves choking his throat. But Pike only smiles and comes in further. She stays a small distance from him, looking out of the window. “Do you like the birds?” Bren blinks, a little confused by the question. He was expecting to be asked who he is, why he is here that kind of thing…

Apparently not.

“I do. They seem… free.”

“Do you feel free? Or trapped?” she asks and Bren catches Percy’s wince out of the corner of his eye. Bren shrugs a little, unsure how to answer that question. He feels more free, he supposes? He is still trapped within himself but that is his own problem.

“Perhaps a little much there, Pike,” murmurs Percy carefully and Pike blushes.

“Ah, yes. Sorry.”

“It, it is okay,” says Bren quietly and Pike frowns a little.

“No. I want to help. I want you to feel comfortable.”

“I do,” Bren admits, his voice low. “I am more comfortable here than I have been anywhere for a long time.” Pike brightens up.

“Good. We… we want you to be okay. You understand that?”

“I do not understand why.”

“Inkling,” Percy says, his voice gentle, but Pike holds up her hand.

“You do not believe you deserve this,” she says and Bren blinks. She is wise and perceptive.

“I don’t,” he protests but Pike just smiles and comes to stand in front of Bren. Sitting, he is face to face with her.

“We all deserve a second chance at happiness, Inkling. Another time, ask Percy to talk to you about that. For now, how about I tell you about some birds? Okay?” Bren nods, biting his lip hard so as not to cry. He has only known this little gnome for a few moments, and she is already dragging down his carefully built walls.

Bren comes to like Pike a lot. She sits with him and talks to him about birds and doesn’t mind when he can’t find it in himself to speak in response to her. They sit for maybe half an hour when there is a knock on the door and Percy gets up from his sketching. He opens the door and sighs.

“Ah, Grog. Hey. Yeah, Pike’s here. Um… Inkling, is it okay if Grog comes in?” Bren pauses but nods and regrets it instantly as a huge man ducks in through the door. He must be a goliath, being so huge and grey-skinned, though his beard is confusing. Bren had always thought that goliaths were hairless. Though, this is the first time he has ever met one so what does he know.

“Hey Grog,” says Pike, her voice pitched low. “This is Inkling. We need to be gentle, alright?” Grog nods and lumbers over carefully.

“Hello,” he says and Bren waves nervously. Grog is so big. But immediately, the half-giant sits down on the floor, cross-legged so he doesn’t tower over them. “I made you a thing. Percy said that you were quiet and lonely; and I started making these when Vax was really little. I thought you might want a friend, just for you.” And Grog reaches into a bag on his side and produces a small wooden, carved cat.

Bren thinks he might cry.

He loves cats. There had been a few strays in Blumenthal and he had always befriended them easily but he hasn’t seen a cat in a while. Slowly he takes the cat from Grog’s huge hand and hugs it to his chest.

“Percy, Pike?” he asks quickly in Celestial. “Will you, I love it, thank you, please?” Pike smiles at the garbled words and pats Grog’s hand.

“He loves it Grog. You’re getting really good at these carvings. I’m going to go find something to eat, do you want to come?” she asks and Bren smiles, rubbing at the rough wood. The texture is very calming. Grog nods, getting back up.

“Just wanted to say hello, little Ink. Bidet now. I will see you soon.” Bren manages a little wave and Percy chuckles as Pike and Grog leave.

“Man of few words, Grog. But the loyalist brother I could have asked for,” Percy says softly as he closes the door. Bren presses the cat to his face, relishing in the texture. They are alone together for only a few moments before there is another knock and so, Percy opens the door to another gnome.

“I was told I’m allowed to visit?” he asks, and Percy looks over to Bren who nods. He’s getting tired, but he can deal with one more visitor. The gnome smiles widely and comes over. “Hey, kiddo. I’m Scanlan, resident ass here.” That makes Bren smile, just a little. Scanlan looks him up and down and the gnome’s posture changes. He grows more serious and hops into the chair which Pike had abandoned. Percy returns to his sketching, but Bren knows that he glances up constantly.

Scanlan doesn’t speak.

He merely takes a flute from a bag at his side and begins to play. It is a soft, gentle tune, like birdsong and it makes Bren feel… calm. He had been worried about meeting the other members of Vox Machina and he knows that Percy and Vex had been nervous too. But they have been nothing but kind and respectful.

Bren starts to feel accepted.

Like, maybe one day, he could call this home.

Chapter Text

It's been 4 and a half weeks since Inkling had joined them and Percy is so impressed with his progress.

He doesn't leave his room yet, but he washes in the basins Vex brings up and tends to sit at the window to read, rather than remaining in his bed. Percy often sits with him these days, his paperwork spread out on the desk which sits in front of the window. Occasionally, Inkling speaks, asks him about Whitestone but not about the de Rolos. He's so cautious about family.

Today, they are sat at the window, watching the rain pour down. Inkling has recently been reading about magic, types of sorcery and power in a vague sense and today's book is on the Age of Arcanum but he seems... distracted. He keeps glancing out of the window, watching the ravens huddle under the trees in the garden.

An unkindness of ravens. What a stupid name, Percy thinks. Here, the ravens are quite the opposite. He often watches them and knows that they watch right back. The gods are imperfect and so am I, Vax'ildan had said almost 5 years ago now, at their wedding, in response to the ravens. The last time they had seen him.

But Percy sees him every day in the unkindness of ravens that perch in the garden. He sees him in the bright eyes and giggling laugh of his son. And he knows that Vex sees him in the mirror every time she passes it quickly, in the way she calls for their eldest child, in the quiet sorrow of Keyleth.

The first couple of years had been hard. All of the mirrors in the castle had to be covered. Vex had hacked off her braid late one night about a month after the wedding, sobbing that she couldn't bear to look like him anymore. Percy had held her so tightly that night and had carefully trimmed the ends in the morning to leave her with a bob of hair. Now, it has grown out again and she is okay. But the pain will never truly leave. And he knows that.

“The ravens look unhappy today,” says Inkling in Celestial and Percy startles.

“Yes. This rain is a little heavier than they appreciate. Winter is on its way,” he replies, rubbing at his temples.

“Are, are you okay, Percy?” asks the teen, his voice gentle.

“Yes, yes. Sorry, Inkling. Was just thinking.”

“About what? I mean, you don’t have to tell me obviously, I just-” Percy holds up his hand with a small smile.

“It’s okay, Inkling. I was just thinking about my wedding,” he replies half-truthfully.

“Oh?! To Lady Vex’ahlia?” That makes Percy smile and wonder how long that Inkling just mentally referred to him as Lord de Rolo.

“Yeah, to Vex. We’ve been married for… Well. We’ve been married for nearly 7 years. But we had a formal wedding about 5 years ago. We eloped earlier than that. I, uh, aha, I didn’t want to deal with a big wedding when we actually got married. Too much… necessary family I didn’t want to have to deal with.” Inkling blinks up at him, putting his book down. “I really just cared about being married to her. We got into trouble with the rest of Vox Machina because we didn’t sort of tell them… until I had to like… blurt it out in front of a god?”

“Wow. That’s… That’s a lot,” says Inkling, eyes wide.

“Yeah…” Percy rubs the back of his neck, blinking a little. He only just realises how weird his life is. Inkling pauses a second and laughs.

He laughs. It is a soft, gentle ringing laugh, a little rusty from disuse but Percy is astounded. Inkling has never laughed before.

“You certainly have an exciting life, Percy.”

“Oh, it has never been monotonous. Not necessarily good, but definitely not boring.” And they fall into a quiet peace for a while until there is a rapid knock on the door and Percy frowns.

It’s not a knock he recognises.

“Inkling?” he asks and immediately the boy nods, understanding the question.

“Enter!” calls Percival and in tumbles Kynan Lenore, his hair stood on end and his face covered in soot.

“Lord de Rolo!”

“Kynan, I swear to Pelor, if I have to tell you to call me Percy again, I’m going to cry. What’s up?” Kynan blushes under the soot and nods a little.

“Sorry, Percy. I… I think I really fuck- uh, messed this one up.” He holds out a mangled rifle, looking nervous and Percy laughs a little.

“Oh yeah, that’s completely destroyed. It’s fine, it just needs the barrel replacing. Don’t worry, Kynan, I swear I destroyed Bad News seven times before it worked.”

“I just really want it to work, Percy. It’s my first lone project and…” He looks down, rubbing self-consciously at the soot on his cheeks.

“I know. I know. But you can keep at it, Kynan. Back to the drawing board.” Kynan sighs and then seems to notice Inkling sat in the corner, watching this.

“Oh, ah, young sir,” says Kynan and bows quickly. Inkling shirks back.

“Kynan, this is Inkling. Inkling, this is Kynan, the Captain of the Riflemen of Whitestone. He’s been working here for over 7 years.” Kynan gives a shy wave and Inkling returns it. Percy knows that Kynan will be aware of Inkling but he would have very little reason to visit him. Inkling has met only a small amount of the people of Whitestone. Cassandra once or twice, Jarrett once, but really, he doesn’t spend any time with people aside from Vex and Percy.

As soon as he feels better, safer, more relaxed, Percy will introduce him to Gilmore and Allura. He’ll like them.

“Replace the barrel and reduce the amount of powder you use, Kynan, it will be easier to control.”

“Yes, thank you sir- Percy. And it was nice to finally meet you, Inkling.” Kynan bows again and gives a little smile before hurrying out.

“He seems… young?” Percy laughs a little.

“Kynan was a… ah, he made some poor decisions about your age and ended up on the wrong side of an old feud. We gave him a second chance, took him home and gave him a job. He’s lived here ever since. He’s a good kid, but he still can be… formal.” Inkling blinks a little and Percy can see the gears turning in his head. Is he just the same? “Second chances are… important to us. Me especially. Vox Machina was mine.”

“I… I see. I understand. Thank you, Percy.” Inkling replies quietly, rubbing his hand over the little cat that Grog had brought him. Percy must tell him to keep making those; it seems to really help Inkling.

Silence falls between them for a while until there is a familiar knock on the door.

Vex’ahlia.

Inkling even perks up, closing his book as Vex enters holding a few sandwiches.

“Hello darlings. You really should eat more consistently, both of you!”

“Sorry, dear,” chuckles Percy as he stands up to take the plate off Vex and he almost drops it when he hears from behind him,

“Thank you, Lady Vex’ahlia.” Vex’s jaw drops and they both spin around to Inkling who immediately blushes bright red.

“Inkling?” he asks, trying to keep his voice gentle and careful.

“I, ah, I want, I want to be able to talk and it’s hard, but I want it,” he blurts out and Vex drops the plate on the table beside the bed unceremoniously and moves to kneel before him. She offers her hands to him and says,

“Inkling, darling. You are doing so fantastically well, you understand? You are healing impressively and you don’t need to feel any pressure. If you want to talk, we want to listen. And, dear. It’s just Vex, okay?” Inkling gives a smile, weak and almost tearful as he takes Vex’s hands.

“Okay. Thank you, thank you both. I… I can never be grateful enough for everything you have done for me,” says Inkling and his voice is trembling. It is clear Common is not his first language by the thick and warm accent with which he speaks. But honestly, Percy is just so proud of him.

“It is our pleasure, Inkling,” Percy says, thickly.

“Ah, I, uh… I think I would like you to call me Caleb,” he replies, still blushing. “It is not the name I once had but, well, ah, I think it is better for me now.”

“Caleb,” says Vex firmly. “I love it. It suits you.” And Caleb rubs the back of his neck and gives a wide but also shy smile.

“Caleb it is.”

“But, ah, I still like Inkling!” Caleb says, seeming worried and Percy chuckles.

“We understand, Inkling is still a nickname. But Caleb is your name. The name you have chosen and that’s important,” he says.

“Ja, ah, ja. It is, well, it is Zemnian. It is the name of a minor hero of the Divergence and… It felt good,” Caleb explains, stroking his fingertips over the book he is currently reading.

“You don’t need to explain yourself, Caleb,” says Vex, carefully emphasising his name. “We understand.” And Caleb breaks, letting himself tip forward into Vex’s arms who accepts him without question.

“We care for you, Caleb. And we want you to be happy,” says Percy as he comes over to gently place a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “And we are so proud of how far you have come.”

And as they stand there together, Percy hears a sharp caw and he looks out of the window to see a huge raven stood on the sill.

They share a second, the raven and Percy. And then it flies away and Percy smiles.

Still keeping an eye on their ever-growing family.

Chapter Text

Caleb is slowly starting to get used to Whitestone. He has been living here for almost 2 months now and he only just is beginning to leave his room. Whitestone Castle is big, never mind the city as a whole. But it's getting easier.

He can speak now, most days. Common is still harsh and clunky on his tongue but no one seems to mind. He speaks to a few more people now aside from Percy and Vex. The guards outside his room are long gone but he recognises them when they are on duty in other areas and they always greet him warmly. He also has spoken with Lady Cassandra some more, though she appears to spend most of her time working.

Today, Caleb is sat in one of the smaller courtyards, his notebook open in his lap and his wooden cat held loosely in his left hand. He is wrapped up, coat and scarf thrust into his arms by a disapproving Vex'ahlia after he had almost caught a chill a few days earlier. Whitestone reminds him of the harsh winters of the Zemni Fields, though with more snow. He is enjoying the crisp end-of-autumn day and the peace that this courtyard provides.

Since he has been leaving his room for the last week, Percy and Vex are less... concerned. Caleb makes sure to eat with them and Percy still sleeps in the room - now in a cot which he was bullied into using by Vex - but during the day, he is alone. Percy and Vex have their own children after all as well as the duties of the heads of state.

Caleb doesn't mind. He knows where to find them if he needs them. He appreciates that Percy still sleeps in his room. The nightmares that creep out in the depths of night are choking and guilt-laden and make him bolt up right, screaming in Zemnian. And Percy is always there to calm him down. But, soon, Caleb would like Percy to be able to go back to his own bed with his wife. Maybe he will speak to him about it.

Caleb closes his notebook, marking the page he was taking notes in - regarding the flora of Whitestone compared to the Zemni Fields - and looks up. The sky is clear, bright blue and overhead a raven wheels over the castle. There are so many ravens here that Caleb wonders what has happened to attract them all. He gives a soft sigh, letting his eyes close for a moment.

The sound of footsteps makes him startle slightly and he sits up to see a familiar figure approach. The last time he had met Jarett Howarth, he had been completely non-verbal but he bows his head as the man walks over.

“Ah, young master. It is nice to see you out and about,” he says with a sort of half-bow. His accent is comforting; it reminds Caleb that it's okay to not have perfect Common.

“Mister Howarth, sir. It is nice to be able to speak with you properly.” Jarett brightens immediately and pauses to take a seat beside him.

“Talking and everything, young master... Inkling, yes? You have made such excellent progress whilst I have been busy training the guard.”

“Caleb, please,” he requests quietly. “Inkling is okay, but Caleb is my name.”

“Caleb it is, on one condition. You call me Jarett. Mister Howarth sounds terrible,” laughs the Marquesian and Caleb cracks a smile.

“Jarett,” he agrees easily. “What brings you out here?”

“Ten minute break from training. I like this courtyard, it is... quiet. Especially compared to the constant sounds of training.”

“How long have you been working here?” Caleb asks softly, rubbing his thumb over his cat.

“Oh, wow, like 7or 8 years? I’ve worked for Vox Machina for nearly 10 years though. Always been there as their Captain of the guard,” Jarett explains. “They’re a good bunch. And I’ve watched them grow so much, over the years.” Caleb looks up at the sky with a smile.

“They are good to me. I am… I am happier here”

“I know. And I’m glad,” says Jarett quietly.

“What were they like? Before?” Caleb asks. Jarett sighs slightly.

“They were… Well, when they first hired me, they were different. They were colder, rougher, just… worse. Percy was the worst, by gods, he’ll admit that himself. He was all anger and revenge and fierceness wrapped up in ball barely older than you.”

“He was?” Caleb presses, gently.

“Yeah. I mean, they all were rough round the edges. People don’t band up to slay dragons and imprison gods because they’ve had a good life,” snorts Jarett. “But still, there was something, ah, what is the word in Common? Like animals. There was something… feral about them. So ready for the next battle.” He sighs, tipping his head back against bench and pauses for a second. “But they grew up. They settled down. Family’ll do that for you.”

They sit quietly together for a few moments and then Jarett stands.

“Gotta get back to it. Say hi to the kids, I think they’re playing the gardens. Vax has been dying to chat to you; he keeps telling me.” Caleb blinks, surprised by this. He didn’t thing that the young de Rolo children even knew he was around. He hasn’t spoken to them at all.

“I, ah. I will,” he says softly, straightening up. “Thank you, Jarett. It was nice to speak with you.”

“And you, Caleb. Don’t be a stranger now, huh? I hope to see you around more.” Caleb nods, giving him a little smile.

“I hope so.” And Jarett leaves with a quick wave as he heads back out of the courtyard.

Caleb pauses.

He looks down at his notebook and at the little cat in his hand.

“Well,” he says conversationally to the cat. “Apparently we should go and talk to some children.” He stands slowly and pockets his notebook before heading deeper into the castle, towards the gardens.

Caleb likes the gardens. He likes the different flora that flower here and the winding beauty of the area. There are some places in the gardens which are somewhat less grown, like plant life struggles in those areas but he has never asked why. There is a lot about Whitestone that is odd, but he doesn’t ask. As he enters the gardens, he hears the familiar voice of Vex’ahlia, chiding her eldest child and Caleb turns a corner to see Vex kneeling in front of a muddy five-year old who appears to be pouting.

“Vax, do you understand? Don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” huffs the child and Caleb gives a weak smile as Vex gets up and turns to see him.

“Oh, Caleb, inkling, hello. It is good to see you. Did you need me?” she asks immediately, and Caleb relaxes at her constant care.

“Oh, nein, I am okay. I just, ah… I realised I had not met the young master.” He watches as the little quarter-elf perks straight up.

“Me?” he asks and Caleb blushes shyly. Vex beams.

“I’m glad you feel comfortable coming to see us, Caleb. How about we all go sit down, yes? I will bring Vesper,” she says, moving away to scoop up the smaller child who is watching everything. Caleb nods, squeezing the little cat tightly in his hand. He is unsure about the children but Vex smiles reassuringly and they head over to a little bench. Vesper is still young and is quiet, watching everything with large solemn eyes but Vax is clearly excitable, bounding over to sit at his mother’s feet.

“Now, Vax, remember what we said?” says Vex gently.

“That Mister Caleb is nervous, and we have to be very nice?” Vax repeats and nods. “Yep, I will be!” Caleb blushes, happy but surprised that Vex has spoken to her children about him. Vax turns his bright blue eyes straight on Caleb and sits up a little straighter, holding out his hand. “Hello, I am Vax’ildan Frederickstein de Rolo. It is nice to meet you.” Caleb takes the offered hand with half a smile.

“Hallo, Vax’ildan. I am Caleb. Just Caleb. It is also nice to finally meet you. I am sorry that I could not see you before.”

“Mama said you were very ill. Are you better now?” he asks, settling down in front of him.

“Ah, yes. Sort of. I am a little better but not completely,” says Caleb, a little sheepishly and he feels Vex gently touch his shoulder, reassuring him. Vax nods, smiling a little.

“I see. Do you like cats?” Caleb blinks, surprised by the question, but Vax giggles. “You have a little one in your hand. Did Uncle Grog make it for you?”

“He did. And yes, I do like cats very much.” Caleb runs his fingertips over the wooden cat in his hand.

“Is he coming to see us soon, Mama?” asks Vax excitedly and Vesper coos and burbles in agreement.

“Unca Grog!” she exclaims excitedly. “Oon?” Vex chuckles.

“I’ll speak with your dad and Auntie Keyleth about them coming for a visit soon, if that is okay with you, Caleb?” He looks over at Vex, blinking.

“Oh, ah, ja. I would like to see them again.” Vex smiles and ruffles Vesper’s hair.

“Good.”

“Do you like Uncle Grog? And Uncle Scanlan?” asks Vax immediately.

“Ja? I have only met them once, when I was very ill, and they were kind. I like that,” Caleb replies quietly and Vax nods, so calm for a child his age.

“They are nice. Uncle Scanlan always sings the best songs.”

“He played me a lovely tune on the flute when he visited,” says Caleb softly, picking at the edges of his coat. The child is getting a little much and he has done so much talking today already. He can feel his grasp on Common slipping.

“He knows just what to do!” Vax bounces to his feet. “And Uncle Grog is so strong and so is Auntie Pike and they go like bam! Bam!” He spins, mimicking punching, and Vex gives a little sigh.

“How about you run inside and find your cart and figures to play with, Vax’ildan, dear?” suggests Vex and the little boy nods, hurrying inside. She scoops up Vesper, who settles immediately. “Are you okay, Caleb?” she asks softly and the teen startles.

“Ja, ja… Just, ah, um…”

“A lot?” she suggests, calmly.

“Ja. I have done a lot of speaking today.”

“Go on inside, Inkling. I think Percy is down in his workshop and he always appreciates a quiet presence.”

“But, but, Vax?” Caleb protests. “I do not want to upset him.”

“He will be fine. You can always talk to him another day and you need some time, I can see that.” Caleb smiles slightly and bows his head.

“You are too kind to me,” he murmurs.

“No,” says Vex firmly. “You deserve every iota of kindness we give you.” Caleb doesn’t argue but he knows deep inside himself that that is not true. He has done terrible things.

“Goodbye, little Vesper,” he murmurs, kissing the child’s head and nods to Vex’ahlia who smiles reassuringly.

“Bye-bye!” chirps Vesper happily back and it makes Caleb smile as he turns to head into the house.

Even on the days when he is worse, he is so much better than before.

Chapter Text

It is so clear to Percy that Caleb is gaining confidence. It is also clear that before Caleb was tortured and broken by Trent Ikithon, he was a happy and bright child. And by Pelor, it galls Percy to see the spark that he had once had snuffed out. He is hoping that by giving him a home and the offer of a family, Caleb will begin to heal.

But he also knows that there are things he can’t help with. Caleb is a wizard, and clearly a good one to have been a student at the Cerberus Academy. And he hopes - especially considering the books he has recently been reading on magic - that introducing him to Gilmore and Allura will help.

Caleb has been living in Whitestone for two and a half months when the rest of Vox Machina visit again.

“He’s doing so well,” Keyleth says quietly to him as they sit outside in gardens, watching as Vax hangs off Grog’s arm and Caleb talks to Pike, Vesper sat on his shoulders.

“He is,” says Percy quietly. “Caleb hasn’t been talking very long, but I’m so proud of him. It’s clear he’s incredibly clever; he speaks as many, if not more languages than me.” Keyleth laughs a little.

“He’s good with the kids too.”

“He just, fuck, Kiki, he just fits perfectly into the family. I hope he will stay here.”

“You already see him as family, don’t you?” Keyleth says quietly.

“He just… Kynan and Cass and Jarrett all love him,” Percy says weakly. “Caleb deserves to be happy. How ever that is. But I want him to stay here.” Keyleth nudges him gently.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Percy.” Percy nods and leans against her gently.

“Thanks…”

They sit together, quietly watching until Pike comes over, smiling widely.

“Hey, Keyleth! Caleb says Vesper wants to play with you,” she says and Keyleth gets up.

“Oh good, yeah, I’m coming!” Pike scrambles up on to the bench beside Percy and grins.

“He’s a good kid,” she says and Percy nods, almost absently.

“Yeah… Say, Pike, you can send messages to people, right?”

“I can, why?”

“I… I want to support Caleb as much as I can and he’s a wizard, so I think it would be good for him to be able to speak to someone like Allura and Gilmore. Could you contact them?” Pike’s face goes soft and she grins up at him.

“Percy, that’s honestly so sweet. Yeah, I can message them. How much do you want me to say?”

“Uhh, I guess that I’d like them to come to Whitestone, in the next week or so, to meet a young man who I think they could help.” Pike nods, smiles and them closes her eyes. She pauses, muttering under her breath for a moment, then opens her eyes.

“Allura says she will not bring Kima, so as not to be overwhelming, and be here in three days. She has to deal with something on the council. Now, Gilmore…”

Again, she goes quiet.

“He says he’ll be here in a few days, less than a week, he just has to deal with stock in his Westruun branch.”

Percy smiles, relaxing a little.

“Thank you, Pike. I really appreciate it.” She nudges him gently.

“It’s fine, Percy. You don’t need to pretend to be all dark and brooding anymore,” she teases and Percy grins wryly in response.

But she’s right. Having children, loving Vex’ahlia, just being with Vox Machina has mellowed him immensely. He’s happy now. Happier than 20-year-old Percy ever thought was possible.

The rest of Vox Machina only stay a few days, but Caleb appreciates their presence. Grog gives him another three carved cats, of differing sizes and Caleb thinks he might start a collection. He asks the goliath to teach him how to carve and it makes the man light up.

“You want to know?” he had asked, seeming almost confused at the question. “Uh, yeah sure. I’ll teach you. It always helped me to have little things to do with my hands. Nice things, rather than killing things.”

Grog is not the only one who is interested by Caleb and his progress. Pike still speaks to him in Celestial sometimes, but more to tease the others in a language they don’t speak. She mainly talks to Caleb about whatever he wants, able to hold her own in a wide range of conversations.

Keyleth is kind, shy and nervous but it makes Caleb feel comfortable to have the same issues as someone else. They talk about flowers a lot and he shows her the sketches in his notebook of the wildlife from the Zemni Fields and she crafts them using her druidic power. It makes him feel at home.

Scanlan seems a little boisterous, but Caleb knows he has a softer side. The first night Vox Machina are there, Caleb has a terrible nightmare, worse than usual and wakes up screaming, hands aflame. Percy isn’t in the room; Caleb had spoken to him about sleeping with his wife once more a week ago. And Caleb just sits there, shaking like a loose leaf, watching the flames curl around his fingertips when there is a sound from outside. It sounds like singing. The voice is calming and familiar as Scanlan, but the song is in Gnomish. It’s so soft and sweet, a balm on Caleb’s raw nerves and he lets the fire die as he listens to the song. And before he knows it, he is asleep once more. Neither of them mention it, but Scanlan gives him a knowing smile at breakfast.

Percy comes to talk to him just after the rest of the group leave.

“Inkling, can we chat?” Caleb nods. He still appreciates the nickname. It makes him feel wanted.

“Ja, what is wrong?”

“Oh, nothing! Just, ah, I have some friends of ours who are coming tomorrow, who I think it would be good if you met them. Allura Vysoren and Shaun Gilmore. They’re powerful magic users and considering that you’ve been reading a lot of wizardly stuff recently, I thought it would be good for you to speak to someone who actually knows about those things.” Caleb blinks. He has been considering getting back into magic as much as he can because it was always something which had helped him, but he has never considered talking to someone about this.

But if Percy trusts them, then he does too.

“Thank you, Percy. I… thank you.” Percy beams and then gives a shy little shrug.

“I just thought it might help.”

Caleb hopes it does.

He sleeps poorly that night, waking three or four times with his breath caught in his throat and his hands shaking, but his nightmares aren’t terrible, just consistently annoying. It’s early morning when he gives up on sleeping and heads to get breakfast.

Allura Vysoren arrives about an hour later.

Caleb is sat at the breakfast table still, reading quietly whilst Percy and Cassandra talk beside him when there is a soft sound and Percy chuckles.

“Ah, Allura, it’s good to see you.”

“And you, Percival,” comes a new voice and Caleb looks up to see a human woman in blue robes with long blonde hair in two plaits. “Lady Cassandra, you’re beautiful as ever.

“Allura, hello and thank you. You must excuse me, I have to deal with some paper work.” Cassandra gets up and leaves, gently patting Caleb reassuringly on the shoulder as she does.

“How is Kima?” Percy asks and Allura chuckles.

“As usual. She is crashing around Emon, fighting anything that needs it. Pike said you wanted me to meet someone?” Percy looks over at Caleb who blushes despite himself and stands up.

“Ah, yes. Allura, this is Caleb. Caleb, this is an old friend of ours, Allura. She got us out of a few tight spots back in the day.” Caleb waves nervously and comes over.

“It is, it is good to meet you.”

“And you, Caleb. You are a wizard too?” Caleb goes to answer when there is another spark and a dark-skinned man in purple robes and a lot of gold spins around.

“Honestly, you’d have thought you’d planned that,” mutters Percy and Allura laughs.

“Oh, hello Gilmore. Turns out we were both called.”

“Allura! Percy! It is good to see you both, honestly, you should definitely be in touch more,” says the man, presumably Gilmore, as he comes over to hug both Percy and Allura. Caleb shirks immediately at his entrance and the man slows down.

“Gilmore, Allura, this is Caleb,” Percy says in his I’m-trying-to-explain-things-please-stop voice. “He is staying here with us. He is a wizard and attended a very prestigious school which in turn did horrible things. But he wants to get back into using his magic and, well, Vox Machina are a lot of things, but we certainly lack learned arcane talent.”

“Hallo,” Caleb manages and the other mages smile, reassuringly.

“Thank you for reaching out, Percy. We’d be happy to help Caleb,” Allura says as Gilmore nods.

“Good. Now, I should go look after my children. Caleb, I’ll be in the playroom, okay? If you need me at all, come and get me. Don’t be afraid to stop and take a break. Allura and Gilmore will understand,” Percy says, his voice gentle and easy. Caleb nods, scratching at his inner arm absently. He is nervous about doing magic again, especially without the back up of Percy, who has seen his panic attacks.

But Percy trusts Allura and Gilmore.

So, Caleb can trust them.

Percy leaves and Caleb is left with two powerful mages. He gulps.

Gilmore smiles.

“You’re nervous,” he says astutely and Caleb nods.

“I, ah, have not done any magic in a few months honestly and um, I am, it is, the last time I did it went very wrong. But, but I want to be able to do it! I want to be able to cast again.”

“Okay, okay,” Allura says and pulls out one of the chairs from the dining table. “How about we sit down and Gilmore and I will tell you a bit about our magic first, okay? Just to help.” Caleb nods and sinks into the offered chair. Gilmore sits next to him, but far enough away that they’re not touching.

“I’m afraid I’m not a taught individual,” Gilmore starts, flicking out his fingertips to create a shower of sparks. “I’m a runechild sorcerer.” He pauses for a second, muttering a spell under his breath and a glyph appears on his forehead. “So, I cannot help you with the practical aspects of learning magic. But, I can help you find… peace in your magic again. You’re afraid of using it, aren’t you? Because of something going wrong and that is understandable. Magic is a riotous and powerful thing.” As he speaks, he is weaving spirals of glowing gold around his hands, controlled and beautiful. Caleb cannot look away. “Sure, magic can be used to damage,” Gilmore says and for a second, there is lightning in his hands. “But it is much more enjoyable to use magic to delight.” His fingers move quickly and suddenly, there is a small bird, created from light in his palm which flies up and dissolves into sparks.

Caleb is astounded.

“How did you know I was afraid?” he asks quietly.

“Percy wouldn’t have called us with such urgency if there wasn’t a reason you weren’t using magic,” says Allura softly.

“Also, you look fearful, darling. You are nervous about us as new influences,” says Gilmore calmly.

“My, my last teacher was not good,” Caleb chokes out. “I am afraid…”

“You’re afraid that we could be the same,” finishes Allura and Caleb nods, ashamed. “That is a fair worry, child. You’ve never met us before.”

“You don’t have to answer this, Caleb, but what did your last teacher do?” asks Gilmore. Caleb cannot bring himself to answer verbally, but he pushes up his sleeve with a shaking hand. The scars on the inside of his arms are still raised and red.

“Green, ah, green crystals, he thought, thought-” he only manages before he has to stop, tears hot in his eyes.

“Residuum,” says Allura and her voice is controlled, but angry. Gilmore’s brows grow stormy and he reaches out to touch Caleb’s hands. Caleb doesn’t resist.

“Caleb, child, listen to me. This is the worst use of magic. It should be used to improve people’s lives, you understand me?” he says, and his voice is so soft. Caleb manages to nod, crying despite himself.

“You are not defined by this,” Allura says. “You can be so much more, and we can help you there.” She smiles and nods briskly. “Okay, Caleb. How about we do a little magic?”

Over the next few hours, Caleb watches Allura and Gilmore use spells which he has only used for combat, for killing, in a way that is beautiful. Allura uses Major Image to create a fantastic experience of a carnival stall. Gilmore uses Prestidigitation to create a firework show. Allura uses Ray of Frost to cool a cup of water. Gilmore uses Polymorph to become a beautiful radiant peacock for a little while.

Spells that Caleb had been taught how to try and find the worst aspects of, the easiest way to harm someone now seem… friendlier. Neutral. Sure, you can use Major Image to terrify someone, but you can also use it to make someone feel relaxed and at home.

And finally, finally, Caleb casts for the first time in months.

It’s nothing, Mage Hand, a cantrip, really, but he uses the little glowing hand to give Gilmore a cup and then high-five him, much to the sorcerer’s delight.

Everything is going perfectly.

Until it isn’t.

“Ah, Caleb, use Firebolt to light this candle?” suggests Allura and Caleb reaches out, performing the somatic gestures for the spell but as soon as the flame begins to catch on his fingertips, everything grows dark in his mind.

He’s back in Blumental and his parents are burning and they’re screaming and he did this it is all his fault his parents are dead and he killed them and he is worthless worthless worthless a murderer a terrible horrible horrific human being there is blood on his hands that will never come clean his own parents

He feels - as though through someone else’s body - himself get pushed into a chair. Gilmore and Allura are speaking but he can’t hear them over the roar of the flames, can’t see them past the blaze of his family home.

Someone is screaming. Someone is crying. Is it him? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how long he spends watching the fire claim his parents, claim his home until something changes.

There is warm pressure around his shoulders, and someone is singing in Celestial. He recognises the song; it is a lullaby; one he has heard before.

Percy.

Percy has his arms wrapped around Caleb, holding his face into Percy’s shoulder and he is singing as Caleb begins to come back to himself. His throat is raw from screaming and his face is wet.

“Percy?” he asks faintly and the man shudders, leaning back to rub Caleb’s back.

“Hey there, Caleb, inkling. Back with us?” Caleb nods, sniffling a little.

“I’m, I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing to apologise for,” says Allura and he can see her and Gilmore stood behind Percy. They look worried. “You don’t need to apologise for this.”

“I think that’s enough magic for one day,” Percy says firmly and Caleb sags against him. He feels hollowed out, empty and afraid and he really doesn’t want to do any more talking, never mind anything else. Gilmore nods.

“Yes. Allura and I will head back to Emon.” Caleb makes a sound in the back of his throat. He doesn’t want them to think that he didn’t appreciate this, because he did. They truly helped so much. Luckily, after so long of him being non-verbal, Percy is fairly good at interpreting his panicked sounds.

“Do you want them to come back, Caleb?” he asks softly and Caleb nods. “Okay. Allura, message me in a few days and we’ll talk then, okay?” Allura smiles a little.

“Of course. Thank you for today, Caleb. It was very nice to meet you.” Caleb gathers himself together enough to force out,

“Thank you. Really. Thank you.” Gilmore and Allura smile gently.

“We’ll be back soon, darling. Don’t over-exert yourself, okay?” He nods, staying pressed against Percy. He isn’t sure when Percy’s touches went from being feared to being important and grounding, but he appreciates it. Allura takes Gilmore’s hand and they vanish in a swirl of purple and gold.

Percy sighs and gently rubs Caleb’s back.

“Come along, little one. Let’s go to the library, okay? Find some books on history to read. And how about I stay with you tonight? I don’t want you to be alone after a flashback like that.” Caleb blinks up at him and wonders in what universe he deserved the care and attention he gets from Percy.

The truth is, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. But Percy will not take that for an answer.

And Caleb is not strong-willed enough to argue with him.

Chapter Text

Things go downhill for Caleb.

For a start, his nightmares come back with an vicious force. Percy sleeps on the cot in the room that night and four times, he is woken by the boy screaming himself hoarse, hands on fire, tears pouring down his face. The next morning, Caleb isn’t speaking at breakfast and Percy sighs.

“Caleb. Do you want me to tell Allura and Gilmore not to come back?” he asks, his voice quiet and free of judgement. Caleb shakes his head avidly and opens his mouth but doesn’t speak. “It’s okay, inkling, take your time.” Caleb takes another few moments and then speaks,

“I liked them. They were nice. I want to do magic again.”

“Okay, Caleb. You’re doing so well, inkling, don’t push yourself,” Percy says. “How about a week before we do more magic?” Caleb nods and Percy smiles. “Let’s go to the library today, spend time in a bit of peace and quiet.”

They head down together and Caleb settles himself in the history section, a safe reading spot. Percy pulls out some paperwork and works there silently for a while until in the back of his head, he hears a familiar voice;

Hey Percival. Shaun and I wondering if Caleb is okay? It was a pretty bad flashback. We understand if he doesn’t want us to return.

Percy smiles and responds quietly to Allura, in the way that the spell allows.

Allura, Caleb is okay. He is shaken and the nightmares are back. But he wants you and Gilmore to teach him more, next week.

He waits and sure enough, Allura must have cast the spell again because he hears;

I am glad he’s okay. We will come next week if that is what he wants. Tell him to rest and not push his magic.

That makes Percy chuckle a little.

I will do. Thank you Allura. Pass on my thanks to Gilmore. I’ll see you soon.

He looks over at the teen, pouring over his history book, absently clawing at the scars on the inside of his left arm and it breaks Percy’s heart and fills him with rage all at once.

He wants the person who made Caleb so afraid to be happy dead.

He wants the heads of every person who ever hurt him on a platter.

And it suddenly hits Percy; the only other people he has felt like that about are his family; his children, his wife, Vox Machina.

Caleb is getting closer to his son every moment Percy spends with him.

He looks at the teen for a second longer and then slips silently out of the library. The gunslinger follows the winding corridors up to the battlements of Whitestone Castle.

It’s cold up here; the wind is biting, and the first snowfall of winter is threatening in the large clouds that loom overhead.

A raven struggles through the wind to join several others perched on the battlements and Percy approaches them. They remain, staring at him with those sharp black eyes.

“He reminds me of myself, you know,” Percy says conversationally, resting his hands on the stone walls. “Caleb. He’s so lost and afraid and panicked. I don’t want him to become like I did. I don’t want him to get so dark and so lost. I hope I’m helping.” He takes off his glasses to rub at his eyes tiredly.

“I want them all dead. Every person who deigned to hurt him. That man… Trent something or other, who called him his student. I want him dead most of all. Caleb deserves everything. He deserves so much, and I want to destroy everyone who thought they could make him think he didn’t.” Percy can hear his voice break and his shoulders tremble.

“He’s… he’s important to me. He makes Vax happy and Vex smile again and he’s so gentle with Vesper and… Oh gods, I just wish I knew how to make sure he is happy too.” He stands silently, staring out at the grey skies as snow begins to fall.

“Talking to the ravens, dear brother?” comes a voice from behind him and he’s far too used to people like Cassandra or… well, Vax’ildan, sneaking up on him to jump.

“They don’t argue back, unlike you,” he snarks, not turning to look at her. But Cassandra crosses to stand in his peripheral vision.

“You need me to answer back. Keeps you on your toes,” she says, not looking at him either. They are both quiet for a long moment. “What were you talking to them about?”

“The boy. Caleb,” Percy says. Cassandra nods.

“The magic didn’t go well, I assume.”

“I think it did for a while. But something triggered him and he’s… he’s worse again. And it is frustrating him.”

“Recovery from trauma is not linear,” Cassandra replies drily, like she has been told the refrain herself many times. “We of all people should know that.”

“I know that. But Caleb is certain to get better and I don’t want him to try too much too soon. I don’t know completely what they did to him, Cass… but human experimentation was likely only the tip of the iceberg.”

“That’s a comforting thought,” she says sarcastically. “I know I don’t often complement you, but you’re doing well with him. He’s already better, Percy.”

“I know. And I’m proud of him. I just wish that he could see that.”

“You can’t fight the battle for him. All you can do is help.” Percy doesn’t reply for a little while, watching as the snow begins to settle across the castle.

“He’s part of the family now. Or I would like him to be when he is ready for that,” he finally says and Cassandra smiles.

“I know, Percy. I know. Go back to him before you catch your death. Talk to the ravens too much and you’ll have to go visit our brother-in-law.” Percy cracks a dark smile and nods, patting Cassandra lightly on the hand as he heads inside.

She’s right. All he can do is give Caleb support throughout, whatever that means to him.

Caleb is nervous about casting again when the day rolls around for Allura and Gilmore to come see him. He has been struggling all week, quieter than before, leaving his room less and unable to sleep without vivid nightmares. He doesn't want to be a burden but he can't help but feel vulnerable, like he is just waiting for the next terrible thing to happen. Percy has been so understanding. He has stayed with Caleb overnight and has promised to stay in the room this time in case he has another flashback. Caleb is absolutely sure that all of them, Percy, Gilmore and Allura, have worked out that he has an issue with fire. They’re very clever people after all.

So, Caleb waits in the dining room, watching the steady snowfall outside. It has been snowing on and off all week and it has given Whitestone a healthy layer, covering the city. He likes it. The Zemni Fields often had snow too when the winters were harsh, but usually it was sharp frosts and bitter winds that provided the chill.

He misses his home, but Whitestone is nice.

There is a familiar sound behind him of a spell finishing and he turns to see Allura and Gilmore stood in the centre of the room and Percy gets up automatically.

“Good to see you both,” he greets them, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “If it’s okay, I’ll stay here today, just in case Caleb needs me.”

“As long as that’s good with Caleb,” Gilmore replies, shooting the teen a reassuring smile. Caleb nods.

“Ja, I, ah, I would like him to stay. It would make me feel better.”

“Of course,” Allura says. “Caleb, I want you to say if you are not happy or uncomfortable at any point, okay? Your health is more important than anything.” Caleb manages a nod and scratches at the back of his hand nervously.

“Let’s start nice and easy,” Gilmore says placatingly. “Mage hand?”

Over the next hour, with Percy half watching, half working, the three mages move through a number of cantrips. Caleb begins to relax as he feels magic race and thrum through his veins, singing out as he shapes spells that have felt lost to him for so long. Ray of Frost skitters across the dining table, creating a beautiful pattern; Mage Hand gives Percy a cup of water when he asks; Message gets Vex’ahlia to poke her head into the room, beaming at Caleb’s progress.

They avoid fire completely.

Allura smiles as Caleb finishes up a very successful Minor Illusion of a cat and asks,

“Are cats your favourite animal?”

“Ja,” Caleb replies. “We never had them, but I had befriended all the strays in my hometown.” Allura nods.

“Then let’s start with that as a bigger spell. Find Familiar.” Caleb blinks. He knows the spell, of course he does, but it was never something he had cast. It is fairly expensive, and Trent had always viewed it as a weak and useless spell because other things can be more useful. Allura hands Caleb the spellbook they have been using, open to the right page and she smiles encouragingly.

“Let’s summon you a companion.” It takes Caleb ten minutes to prepare the ritual, even with Allura’s gentle guidance. Gilmore watches the entire time, this being a spell he is not versed in. Caleb looks down at the summoning circle, incense burning all around it and he bites his lip.

“Are you okay?” Gilmore asks immediately.

“I am… nervous. But I am okay,” he replies. Inhale. Exhale. He pauses and quickly completes the spell with its verbal and somatic components.

There is a flash of white blue light and suddenly, stood in the centre of the circle is a cat. It is beautiful. Ginger and dark spots, with fine features which betray its fey nature and large amber eyes. It turns to blink up at Caleb and he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes as he feels the telepathic connection between him and his familiar settle.

“Frumpkin,” he blurts out, reaching forward. Frumpkin immediately moves to butt his head against Caleb’s hand.

“An excellent name for a beautiful familiar,” says Allura proudly. “Very well done, Caleb.” Frumpkin purrs loudly in agreement and Caleb gives a bright, blinding smile.

Frumpkin.

He has a companion now, forever more.

“Thank you,” he manages to say and Allura chuckles.

“It is thanks enough to see that smile of yours. Come on now, let’s try some other spells. Gilmore, suggestions?”

“Ah, what about something like Comprehend Languages?”

The mages spend the next few hours getting into first level spells and Caleb feels a little better, in his heart.

As the day grows late, Vex’ahlia comes to watch as Caleb, Frumpkin wrapped around his neck like a scarf, disguises himself to look like Gilmore and makes the runechild laugh.

“You’re doing so well, Caleb,” says Vex, stood beside Percy who is watching with a slight smile. “This is wonderful. Have you summoned a cat?”

“His name is Frumpkin,” Caleb says in agreement, scratching behind Frumpkin’s ears. “He is my familiar.” Vex grins widely.

“Excellent. Gilmore, Allura, would you like to stay for dinner? It is getting late.”

“Ah, only quickly,” Allura says. “Kima will fret if I am gone too long.” Vex nods and chuckles. Kima. Caleb has heard the name in conversation concerning Allura before and he thinks that it is likely her wife. Allura is wearing a wedding ring after all.

“Understood.”

They share a rowdy, but enjoyable meal together; Allura, Gilmore, Caleb and the whole de Rolo family. Vax and Vesper are both completely enamoured with Frumpkin, especially after Caleb lets them gently pet him.

“He’s so soft, Mama, oh wow!” shrieks Vax, patting Frumpkin’s head. Vesper just lays her cheek against Frumpkin’s belly.

“Warm. Snuggle.” And it makes Caleb smile, just a little bit wider to be able to make the children happy. Percy goes to start putting them to bed after dinner and as Gilmore and Allura get ready to leave, Caleb goes over.

“Thank you. I am… I am very grateful.” Gilmore smiles and pats Frumpkin carefully.

“You look after him now, okay Frumpkin?” And the fey cat blinks slowly which he takes as agreement. “What a good boy.”

“We’ll talk to Percy about coming every couple of weeks to a month to help you out, okay?” Allura says and Caleb nods.

“I would like that.”

“I know you would. Be good to yourself, Caleb, okay?” she asks and Caleb nods, watching as the mages smile.

“We’re so proud of you already,” Gilmore says, and they vanish in a shower of gold sparks.

Caleb’s breathing gets short and sharp. They shouldn’t be proud him. No one should be proud of him, not after what he did to his parents.

But before he can follow that line of thoughts, there is a soft touch on his shoulder, and he turns to see Vex’ahlia.

“Come on, inkling. You should go read and then get some sleep. You’ll come and wake us if you have a nightmare, yes?” she says, and he pauses before nodding. “Good. Let’s go, darling.”

And Caleb lets Vex lead him back to the library for a little bit.

And he lets Vex make him feel wanted and reassured.

Just for a little bit.

Chapter Text

Caleb has notices that Vex isn’t feeling well very early on. He is getting closer to the de Rolos every day and about three weeks after getting Frumpkin, Caleb notices.

Vex is wan and pale and doesn’t seem to be able to keep any food down. Percy seems worried.

“Is Vex okay?” he asks quietly one day when they are in the workshop together. Caleb likes to come down and practice magic as Percy works on creating small figures or doing paperwork. Percy sighs and pauses in the clock he is making.

“I don’t know. This illness is not common, and I don’t know what is wrong, but I don’t want to overreact and call Pike.” He pushes his glasses up as he rubs his eyes tiredly. “I’m worried.”

“You should call Pike if you are that worried, Percy,” Caleb says quietly. “It would make you feel better.” Percy pauses for a long moment.

“If she gets worse,” he decides quietly. “If she gets worse, I’ll call Pike.” Caleb nods, gently patting Percy on the shoulder. It is so clear that he adores Vex’ahlia with his entire being. Caleb lets him return to his clock as he goes back to quietly casting cantrips to test his reactions.

Magic has been going fairly well for Caleb; Allura and Gilmore visit every other week to help him learn but honestly, he starting to feel more confident in his casting.

Aside from fire spells.

He has avoided them completely and it makes him feel so guilty… It’s his fault after all.

He doesn’t deserve the love that the de Rolos are giving him.

He doesn’t deserve their affection.

He definitely doesn’t deserve the way they treat him like family.

But Caleb likes them far too much to turn them away.

Vex’ahlia doesn’t get worse, but she doesn’t get better either and after another day of her feeling nauseous constantly, Percy caves and contacts Pike. Caleb offers to look after Vax and Vesper whilst they speak to Pike.

Which is how he has found himself in the room downstairs which is often used as the playroom, with Vesper sat on his knee, watching Vax’ildan run around the room, toy cart outstretched in his hand. Vesper is chewing on her dress, watching her brother who is giggling and hollering as he races around. Caleb smiles.

“Caleb, Caleb!” crows Vax, coming to a screeching stop in front of him.

“Yes, Vax?”

“Will you play racing with me? You can have a cart too!” With a slight smile, Caleb takes the offered cart and gently places Vesper on the ground.

“Stay there, Vesper, okay?” She just grins at him.

“Okay!” she replies brightly, and Caleb knows she will go wandering as soon as he takes his eyes off her.

“Alright, Vax, how do we play?”

“So, so, so!” cries the boy, stumbling over his words in his excitement. “We wind em up and then they go so fast! Daddy made them and they’re so cool.” Caleb laughs softly and nods, kneeling down with him.

“Okay! This seems like fun.” Vax nods and kneels down beside Caleb.

“Wind them up like this,” Vax explains, showing Caleb who could have easily worked it out. But, Caleb watches attentively, smiling easily.

“Okay, and then we let them go, ja?” Vax nods, placing his on the floor.

“Okay, okay, let’s go!” They let their cars go and Caleb watches as Vax’s races ahead with a slight smile. The boy bounds to his feet and starts running around, yelling that he wins. Caleb turns to look over at Vesper and curses quietly in Zemnian as he notices her toddling towards the open door.

“Vesper, nein!” he calls, but she doesn’t listen. Caleb sighs and flicks out his hand, casting Mage Hand to close the door. Vesper gasps and looks up.

“Magic hand!” she squeals, and Caleb flushes a little.

“Oh, ah, ja.” Vax spins around.

“You can do magic?!” he squeals and Caleb flushes darker.

“Ja, just um, a little,” he mutters.

“Can you show us?” Vax chirps, coming running over.

“I can, I can do some things?” Caleb suggests, almost shyly. He is nervous. Magic is something which he sometimes feels like he lacks control over, and he doesn’t want to hurt the children.

But he is doing better.

“Please, please, please show us!” begs Vax and Caleb caves a little.

“Okay, okay… Have you met my cat?” He snaps his fingers and Frumpkin appears in front of him. Vesper squeals, toddling over rapidly.

“Kitty, kitty!” Caleb instructs Frumpkin to relax and stay as Vesper pets him fairly firmly, but not enough to hurt him. Vax gently pets his tail and beams up at Caleb.

“He is so soft,” Vax whispers, stroking Frumpkin.

“He is a fey cat, I summoned him,” Caleb explains softly. Vax smiles widely up at him and Vesper beams excitedly.

“So cool! Magic is so cool!” Vax trills, bounding upright. “Show me more?!” Caleb chuckles lightly.

“Okay, okay.” He flicks his hand out, casting Ray of Frost into the air to cause a sparkle of snowflakes. Immediately both children are enamoured and go catch the snowflakes, which makes Caleb giggle.

“Pretty!” coos Vesper, falling back on to her bottom as she paws at the snowflakes. Caleb gives a small smile and twists his fingers around, transforming the snowflakes into sparks of light with Prestidigitation. He remembers Gilmore’s words, about making magic beautiful and he hopes beyond hope that he has managed that. Vax bounds over again, his bright blue eyes wide.

“Can, can you make something appear?” he squeals and Caleb grins.

“Like what, Vax?”

“Like, like, like a flower?” Caleb cups his hands and winks at the boy.

“Tap my hands, ja?” Vax pats his index finger on his cupped hands twice. The teen lets them fall open to reveal a small cluster of white flowers, native to the Zemni Fields, thanks to Minor Illusion. Vax’ildan yells joyfully as the door opens up.

“Daddy!” cheers Vesper and Caleb twists to see Percy enter, scooping up Vesper on his way over.

“Hello, dears,” Percy responds, a small smile on his face. Caleb stands up and ruffles Vax’s hair slightly.

“Okay?” he asks and Percy nods.

“Yeah… She, ah, Vex is with child,” he replies and Caleb’s eyes go wide.

“Congratulations!”

“She’s fairly early on, so we need to be careful, but looks like we will be adding to the family. You want to come see Auntie Pike?” Percy asks the children who both nod excitedly and Vax immediately asks Caleb to pick him up. They head out together, Vax chattering away happily.

And Caleb realises… he feels at home.

Vex’ahlia starts to show very quickly. Surprisingly quickly and 3 months later, Caleb is trying not to worry. Vex is stubborn as ever, still running Whitestone alongside the other members of the council, still chasing after her children, still looking after Caleb.

But Caleb has started to try and look after her in response.

He has taken to quietly going into the kitchens on a morning and making sure that Vex is brought food which is easy to stomach like toast.

He has taken to looking after Vax and Vesper more consistently, entertaining them with cantrips and making sure they don’t wake Percy and Vex too early.

He helps Percy put together Vax’ildan’s 6^th birthday party.

“Are you sure you’re okay keeping an eye on Vesper?” Percy asks as they hang a painted banner in the living room.

“Ja, ja! I know that people will be coming, Percy, I’ll watch her. She is easily distracted with Frumpkin anyway,” he says as he uses Mage Hand to tie the strings of the banner off. Percy sags in relief and it is clear that he is tired. He looks… nervous.

“Thank you,” he says, genuine. Caleb turns.

“Are you okay, Percival?” It isn’t usual that Caleb uses Percy’s full name, but it often catches his attention. Percy nods.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Worried about Vex. I want this to be good for Vax, but I’m worried that I haven’t been focused enough and-”

“Percy,” Caleb cuts him off. “It’s going to be okay. The rest of Vox Machina are going to be here and Allura and Gilmore are going to be here and its going to be fun.” Percy nods and moves over to pat Caleb gently on the shoulder as they finish tying up the banner.

“Thanks, Caleb.” He opens his mouth, as though going to say something else, but thinks better of it and just smiles.

Vax, of course, has a wonderful birthday. Grog throws him around like a sack of potatoes and Scanlan sings silly songs for him. Caleb spends most of the time with Keyleth and Pike, Vesper sat on his lap as they talk about plants. Allura and Kima spent a lot of time talking to Percy and Cassandra. Vex floats around between all of them, hand protectively on her slightly swollen belly. Pike frowns a little and Caleb looks over, Vesper now sat with Gilmore.

“She is only a couple of months?” Keyleth says, nervously.

“Yes, she wouldn’t be showing yet,” mutters Pike. “I’ll do a check-up when its quieter.” Caleb nods.

“I have been keeping an eye on her and she seems very tired,” he says quietly, running his fingers over his arms.

“Mmh, I’ll definitely have a look,” Pike says, more firmly, her eyes fixed on Vex as she chats with Allura. Caleb nods, wary.

It takes a little while, but Pike gets around to checking on Vex’ahlia as the evening falls and Vax and Vesper are put to bed. Allura, Kima and Gilmore return to Emon and it’s just them.

Grog shows Caleb the beginnings of wood carving as Pike quietly asses Vex, her hands glowing gold. Caleb is just beginning to make a small rounded shape when Pike says,

“Oh shit.” Percy jolts upright from where he is lying, head in Keyleth’s lap.

“What, what is it?” he blurts out. Pike pats Vex’ahlia’s stomach.

“You’re doing fine, Vex. You’re just having twins.”

Percy and Vex blink at each other and Scanlan snorts.

“I mean, runs in the family?” he points out. There is a long pause which is broken by laughter.

“I mean, he’s not wrong,” Cassandra says through her giggles and the tension diffuses. Percy rolls his eyes and gets up, moving over to gently wrap his arms around Vex’ahlia.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he mutters. Caleb smiles widely and returns to his carving. At least Vex’ahlia is okay.

“Twins is a lot though,” Keyleth says, looking over nervously. “We shall have to stay closer. I want to make sure you’re fine.” Vex nods and leans back to kiss Percy’s cheek.

“Okay, Kiki darling. I will be fine but thank you.” Vex says easily. “Thank you both.”

“We’ll look after you, won’t we, Caleb, Cassandra?” replies Percy and Caleb nods immediately.

“Of course. I will try to look after the children more,” Cassandra says.

“Me too,” Caleb replies and Keyleth smiles.

“It’s going to be fine,” Pike says easily. And actually, for the first time in a while, Caleb can believe that.

Caleb works so much harder than he has been doing previously. By the time that Vex’ahlia is seven months pregnant, she is fairly exhausted and irritable. Percy flits around like a nervous fae, checking up, worrying generally. Vex sometimes finds him annoying and sometimes finds him adorable. Caleb and Cassandra have mainly been looking after Vax and Vesper.

Today, warm in the late spring, Caleb is looking after Vex herself. He brought her toast this morning and now he is sat quietly with her in her room, sat at the desk.

He has been in Whitestone for so long now.

Almost a year.

Vex looks up from the book she has been reading and smiles.

“Inkling, darling, you’ve been here for a year next week,” she says and Caleb nods. Time is something he is very good at tracking.

“Ja. It is… ah, um, thank you. I do not think I was ever really able to thank you. For everything. For looking after me.” Vex’s sharp eyes go soft and affectionate.

“Caleb, darling. We would always do that. You’re important to us, I hope you know that.” Caleb just nods. He doesn’t want to talk about how much he shouldn’t be important to them. It is not something he wants Vex to worry about right now. She shifts, placing a hand on her stomach.

“Are you okay?” he asks immediately, and she nods.

“I’m fine, they’re just over excited today,” she says idly. “But we’re talking about you. Are you doing okay, Caleb? Are you happy here?” He pauses, not wanting to lie. Vex’s eyes are far too sharp for that.

“I am happy here. I am happier than I have been for a long time,” he says truthfully. “It has been a lot, but I appreciate it, so much.” Vex smiles a little.

“I’m really glad,” she says. “We’re really glad you’re here, Caleb. I know Percy really appreciates you and I do too. Especially how much you have been looking after the children. They really love you.” He can feel the heat burning up his neck.

“I like them too,” he admits quietly. “They are wonderful. Vax is so clever, and Vesper is so excited for everything.” Vex laughs.

“They’re very good kids. I’m so proud of them. And I’m excited for our two new darlings.” She rubs her stomach, eyes soft. Caleb nods, his eyes sharp. “I know Percy is nervous and unsure. He just frets. I think since we stopped adventuring so much, he gets more precious about things. We should really go out for a bit after this.”

“Go out?” Caleb echoes nervously.

“Yes, we try to leave Whitestone with the other members of Vox Machina like once or twice every few years and go pick fights with things that need dealing with. Keeps us available should anything dramatically terrible happen to Exandria and from getting too bored,” Vex laughs. “It is quite a different life, adventuring to head of a city.”

“Tell me about the adventuring?” Caleb says, trying to hide his excitement. He is clever enough to have picked up on context clues that Vex, and Percy and the rest of Vox Machina were powerful adventurers, but they don’t talk about it a lot.

“Well, let’s start at the end, shall we? With Vecna. Called himself a god and he was almost there, but we were perhaps… better than he had expected. We gathered enough power to lock him away for good and well… We almost all made it out.” Vex goes quiet and Caleb looks up at her. “My brother, my twin brother, Vax’ildan never came home. And that wasn’t even really Vecna’s doing. He gave himself to the Raven Queen to save me years before that happened and she came to collect.” She is crying, silent tears coursing down her cheeks. Caleb gets up and comes over, wrapping his arms around her gently.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as Vex returns the hug.

“I miss him a lot,” she replies. “He would have been a great uncle. It feels like he is still around sometimes, with all of the ravens. He is Her champion now, but still…”

“You miss him,” Caleb repeats her own words back to her and Vex nods. Caleb understands that. He misses his own family, his parents, like a blow to the chest. But that is not something he should talk to Vex about. Not right now.

“I am happy. I love Percy and Vox Machina are still my family and I love my children… But yes. He was my brother and losing him hurt so much.” Caleb rubs her back gently.

“Losing family is very hard,” he says weakly. Vex looks over at him, her eyes sharp and knowing, but she doesn’t press him.

“I’m glad you are here, inkling,” is all she says, and Caleb can feel his cheeks burning.

“I am glad I am here too.”

It is a warm summer day. There are birds singing, the Sun Tree is blooming and in Whitestone Castle, there is the sound of screaming.

Caleb is sat outside what is currently the birthing room, watching Percy pace back and forth and back and forth as they can hear Vex screaming inside.

He understands why Percy is nervous. Childbirth is dangerous at the best of times, never mind having twins.

“Percy, do you want to sit down?” Caleb asks quietly and he spins to him, opening his mouth. Caleb shrinks, afraid that Percy will snap at him. Immediately, his eyes soften and he comes to sit beside the teen.

“Sorry. I’m nervous. I get so jittery now. I don’t know how I managed when I watched her face down dragons and undying lich gods,” he mutters, dropping his head into his hands. “But I wouldn’t shout at you, Caleb. I would never do that.” Caleb gives a weak smile.

“I am nervous too,” he says quietly. “I like Vex a lot. And it is okay.” Percy chuckles a little, his shoulders relaxing.

“Thanks.” They manage to sit quietly for literally a minute until the screaming gets louder. Percy leaps to his feet immediately, going to the door. He clenches his fists and Caleb bites his lip. He doesn’t know what to say to reassure Percy when he is just as nervous.

He cares so much for Percy and Vex at this point. He doesn’t know what to think because they mean so much to him. But is caring for them betraying his parents? Caleb doesn’t deserve their affection. He did such terrible, horrible things.

But Percy and Vex care about him so much.

Percy returns immediately to pacing, his fists clenched.

“Caleb. Will you talk to me about something, anything?” he says, through gritted teeth.

“Uhm, ja. I finished the wood carving I was doing? It is a little flower. I was thinking of giving it to Keyleth. It is a flower which was common in the Zemni Fields where I grew up.”

“What were the Zemni Fields like?” Percy says, his voice terse with panic.

“They were a lot like Whitestone. The weather was similar, though more snow here. And also less mountains. I lived in a place called Blumental.”

“Was it as big as Whitestone?” He has restarted his pacing, but he looks at Caleb.

“Oh, nein, much smaller. But the Parchwood forest reminds me of the forests which surrounded the Fields.”

“Is that why you and Keyleth go out there sometimes?”

“Ja. I like it and Keyleth likes the walk. We go to the bench a lot. The one dedicated to Vax’ildan.” Percy sags a little.

“I like that bench. I go sometimes too, when its very late and I can’t sleep.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Caleb asks quietly. Percy shrugs a little.

“More often in the winter. Anniversaries in the winter.” Caleb stands up and walks over.

“I can understand th-” He goes quiet as peace falls over Whitestone Castle for the first time in several hours. Percy freezes and they wait for about 5 minutes when the door opens. Pike sticks her head out and smiles. She looks tired, her white hair a little wild, but she looks happy.

“You guys can come in now,” she says.

“Is she-” Percy cuts himself off and Pike chuckles.

“All three of them are just fine, Percy. Come and see.” Caleb hangs back as Percy hurries in, but Pike beckons him in too.

And there is Vex’ahlia. She looks exhausted, sweaty and pale, but she is grinning. In her arms sit two tiny, crying quarter-elven children and Percy collapses beside her on to the bed.

“They’re beautiful,” he whispers.

“Olivia and Freddie, huh?” she replies, and Caleb stays at the foot of the bed, emotions welling in his chest. He feels like he is watching siblings being born.

“Olivia Johanna de Rolo and Frederick Ludwig de Rolo,” Percy affirms, running his fingertips over Freddie’s little forehead. For a second, the child stops crying.

“Do you want to hold him?” Vex asks, a laugh in her voice and Percy nods, gently taking him from his wife. “Caleb?” Caleb blinks and gawps.

“Me? Do I…”

“Do you want to hold Olivia?” Vex sounds so gentle, even through the exhaustion. Caleb manages a nod and walks over. Carefully supporting her, he gently picks up the tiny child and she stares up at him, whining.

Her eyes are dark, like Vex’ahlia’s and her skin is pale like Percy’s.

There is a moment, as Caleb stares down at this child, where he feels so exposed.

He feels happy.

He feels at home.

And he hates himself for finding a family after destroying his own himself.

Chapter Text

Summer turns into Autumn, turns into Winter before Caleb can really pay attention to it. He makes himself useful around the de Rolo household, keeping an eye on Vax and Vesper as Percy and Vex care for the twins.

He likes being useful.

He makes him feel like he deserves a home if he is working for it.

Winter feels… odd in Whitestone.

The castle feels sad. It’s the only way to describe it. It’s as though melancholy clings to the walls.

Caleb notices that Percy is quieter in the colder months. He spends time with Vex and the children but he’s more withdrawn.

They’re both somewhat caught up with the children more than anything, but Caleb can see it. Caleb knows that something is off.

But it isn’t until one night late in Whitestone that he has some proof of this.

Caleb wakes sharply from a nightmare, clawing at his arms desperately. It was a bad one and he trembles, taking a long and deep breath. His room feels too small, too closed and he wants to see the stars. So, Caleb slips out of bed, pulling on the long dark blue coat that Percy gave him, before heading out of his room. It is fairly common that he comes up on to the battlements of Whitestone when his nightmares are bad.

Sometimes, he still wakes Percy and Vex if they’re especially bad.

But tonight… tonight he just needs to look up at the stars. So, there he stands, hands on the wall as he cranes his head back, staring up at the stars. Caleb doesn’t realise for a long time that there is someone else up on the battlements with him.

Stood around 20, 30 feet away is a familiar figure. White hair, tall but skinny frame and his head down. Percy. Caleb pauses, unsure of what to do. Should he go over to Percy? He doesn’t want to disturb him if he is trying to be at peace. But also, he doesn’t really want to be alone…

He steps forward lightly and his foot knocks against a rock, sending it skittering across the battlements. Percy startles and turns to him as Caleb feels his cheeks heat suddenly.

“Sorry,” he says and isn’t surprised to find his voice cracking.

“It’s okay, inkling,” Percy says gently, though his voice is unsure and nervous. “Just… wasn’t expecting anyone to be about.” Caleb walks over quietly, standing beside Percy as he stares out over Whitestone proper.

“Are you okay?” Percy says quietly. Caleb shrugs a little and stares up at the stars.

“Nein. Are you okay?”

“… Nein,” Percy replies, with a little bit of humour. “Winter is… bad for me.” They are both quiet for a long moment.

“I like to see the stars,” Caleb says quietly. “It makes me feel… free. And I like to see the constellations. They were always the same.” Percy nods, visible out of the corner of his eye.

“I can understand the desire for… continuity,” he replies, softly. “I have lost a lot that in my life.” And Caleb is overcome suddenly with the realisation that whilst he knows Percy as a person, he knows nothing of his past. He knows that Percy is dry and kind and affectionate, even when he tries to hide it. He knows that Percy adores his family with a fierceness. He knows that Percy is honest and generous.

But he doesn’t know anything about Percy’s family, other than Cassandra. He doesn’t know anything about Percy other than the stories that Vex and the other members of Vox Machina have told him. He doesn’t know Percy from before Vox Machina.

But also, Caleb definitely doesn’t want to press that. He doesn’t want to overstep in any way. The silence stretches out for a while before Percy speaks again.

“I know you lost your family.” The statement falls into open air and Caleb freezes. “When we brought you from Rexxentrum, I asked if you had any family and I was told no. Which is well… it’s why we made sure you came with us. I will not ask about what happened to them, but I know you still dream about it. You cry out for them a lot. I had a big family when I was younger but… well.” Percy’s shoulders slump. “There’s only Cassandra and I left.”

Caleb is quiet for a long second. He is very appreciative of Percival not asking what happened to his own family. At some point, he will be ready to talk about it. But not yet.

For now, he wants to ride the feeling that Vex and Percy like him.

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” Caleb asks, switching to Celestial to help Percy feel more at ease. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I want to,” Percy says with a heavy sigh. “It’s just a lot. I, I was the third eldest of seven children. Cassandra was the youngest. When I was, oh, about 18? My family was murdered. Here. By these terrible people called The Briarwoods and well… I was captured. I don’t know how long I was held for in the dungeons below the castle… I was tortured by a woman named Anna Ripley. Cassandra freed me and we fled. I thought Cassandra had died as we ran, shot in the chest with arrows. I came back with Vox Machina a few years later and got rid of the Briarwoods but… well. Cass was okay, but we both had a very hard time. So many people died. And, I miss my family a lot. I was very dark back then. I did lots of things I’m not proud of.”

Percy’s head is bowed, and his shoulders are shaking a little.

“I wanted to tell you earlier, about what happened,” Percy says in Common once more. “You’ve lived in Whitestone long enough. But its why winter is more difficult. The anniversary is then. The city knows too and it all just feels… sad.” Caleb moves over to wrap one arm around Percy’s shoulders.

“I’m… sorry,” he says, knowing that its completely inadequate. “I am sorry, Percy.” The older man turns and leans into Caleb’s embrace with a long sigh.

“It has been a while now. Many years. But still, it hurts. I never appreciated my family when I had them.” Caleb nods slowly. He feels the same about his own parents before, well, before he killed them. Percy leans back and goes back to staring out of over Whitestone.

“I understand that,” Caleb manages to say, weakly. Percy turns to look at him for a long moment, but he doesn’t speak. He just nods and turns back to look out over Whitestone. There is a long silence but then, Percy begins to sing.

It is a lullaby that Caleb recognises. Percy had sung it many a time when Caleb had woken up screaming, when he had been mute.

And there, they stand as Percy weaves a song of sorrow and loss, of people who never got to say goodbye.

And Caleb quietly cries.

Cassandra likes the young, but nervous, child that Percy has adopted. Caleb. They haven’t spoken much but he speaks well and is gentle with the children.

She also thinks that he is good for Percy. He is focused on helping the teen and it makes him feel better.

But she can see the pain that Caleb is in.

She knows the pain herself.

He is so guilty. She can see it in the way in he moves and in his furrowed brow and his curled-up nature. She doesn’t know what he feels so guilty about. And she… wants to help him.

She is thinking about this because Caleb is sat beneath her room, in the courtyard. His nose is in a book, but he doesn’t appear to be reading. He is just staring at the same pages over and over again. She slowly stands up, fiddling with her braid.

Should she talk to him?

Should she go down to him in the courtyard?

Cass wants to help, but she doesn’t know how to do it. Perhaps she could merely go sit with him. She inhales and exhales and then decides to head down to the courtyard.

Caleb looks up as Cassandra comes to sit beside him.

“Lady Cassandra,” he says, startled, closing his book.

“Hello, Caleb,” she says quietly. “How are you doing?”

“I am well,” he says, almost as though it was more a reflex than anything useful. Cassandra smiles a little at that, a knowing smile.

“I see,” is all she says. And Caleb blushes a little, caught out. “I’m doing well too.” The emphasis is so purposeful, and Caleb shirks a little.

“Okay,” he mutters. “I’m not sleeping well. Nightmares.”

“I understand that,” Cass says, her eyes on the small trees in the courtyard. “They haunt me a lot too. Did… did Percy tell you about our family?” Caleb nods slowly.

“A few days ago. We were both on the battlements during the night and we talked,” Caleb says, and his voice is low, quiet. “I am so sorry for your loss.” Cassandra sighs and as she closes her eyes, for a second, she sees them.

Her parents.

Julius. Vesper. Oliver. Whitney. Ludwig.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “It was long ago but. It’s still fresh. My brother has done a lot to try and help me with… everything.” Caleb glances at her then, his eyes resting on the white streak in her hair. She reaches up to touch it.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb says but Cass shakes her head.

“It’s no worry. Percy and I share it. It came in during the period I was… held here. I was a prisoner here for few years underneath the Briarwoods iron rule. And… I did some terrible things. I sold the secrets of my town to those people,” Cass says quietly. Caleb looks at her carefully. “I had been, well, taken over by them. The Briarwoods were so persuasive. And well, Sylas was a vampire. He had a way of controlling me through charm until I was so broken down, I just kept giving up. I gave people to their death and destroyed rebellions.” She can feel the tears in her eyes already and her shoulders hunch over. They are both quiet for a long moment, when Cassandra speaks again.

“I will never forgive myself for what I did to Whitestone. And I see that guilt in your eyes, Caleb.” At that, Caleb startles and Cass holds up a hand. “I won’t ask what happened. But I see that same tension in you. I know what guilt can do to you. It haunted me for far too long.” Finally, Caleb opens his mouth to speak.

“I… Ja. Ja,” is all he says, his voice weak.

“My brother helped me to make sure that the guilt didn’t destroy me, inkling. Perhaps, in a little while you tell him. Or Vex. Or anyone.”

“I… I do not want them to hate me,” Caleb says, his voice weak. Cassandra sighs a little, reaching over to gently place her hand on his arm.

“They could never hate you, dear. Percy forgave me; he can be very forgiving.” Caleb’s shoulders tremble but he doesn’t make a sound. “And, I think, there is a difference between forgiving yourself and not letting the guilt destroy you. And I can see it destroying you.”

“I will never forgive myself. I cannot,” he says quietly.

“I understand that. But you just need to be able to forgive yourself just enough to move on. Think about it, okay?” she says, standing up slowly. Caleb turns to look at her, his eyes are wet and red, but there is almost a smile on his face.

“I… I will. Thank you, Lady Cassandra.”

“Oh, darling. It’s just Cass,” she chuckles slightly as she turns and heads inside.

She feels she may have done a little help here. Even if she has just planted the thought of forgiveness in his mind.

Caleb has been thinking about what Cassandra had said for the last few days.

Forgiveness for himself.

He had never even considered it before.

Killing his parents had been so very destructive, something that he could never ever be forgiven from.

He’s been in and out of the library all week, but today, he’s been wandering around Whitestone. He’s down by Rifleman’s Alley where he can hear the loud crack of the practicing guns. Guns have been something of a novelty which Caleb has been paying some interest to. He likes to understand the idea behind it. He comes around the corner as he notes Kynan Lenore at the edge. The man holds up a hand and the guns stop firing.

“Take a break!” he calls, and Caleb takes up a post nearby. The man waves him over. “Hello, young master Caleb.” Caleb nods a gives a shy smile.

“Mister Lenore, sir.”

“Kynan, please,” comes the reply immediately. “How are you doing today?” Caleb gives a slight shrug. He’s doing okay. Kynan seems to understand that and nods.

“How about you and I take a walk? It would do me good to get away from all these guns. Don’t think you ever quite get used to the noise.” Caleb nods easily. He didn’t know Kynan very well, but they had spoken a good few times over the time he has been living in Whitestone. Caleb likes to come down and see the Riflemen when he’s not busy.

They walk together, in peaceable silence, through the streets of Whitestone until Kynan says,

“Cassandra said she had a chat with you.” Caleb jolts a little.

“Ja, she did. Why?”

“Well… I’d like to think I know a thing or two about guilt and beating yourself up,” Kynan murmurs, his eyes ahead, but a little unfocused. “It was the reason I ended up in Whitestone in the first place.” Caleb is quiet. He doesn’t want to press, to ask, to question but it seems like Kynan wants to talk.

“Ja?” is all he replies.

“I think you might benefit from the story,” is all he says. “I was a bit of a runaway and an idiot. I wanted to be involved with Vox Machina so badly. I was a kid and reckless and I went to go join them. Vax’ildan knocked me out in a second. Back then, I thought he was a dick but now… well, I know he just didn’t want me to get caught up with all of the danger that they were in. He had been trying to protect me. From there, I ran off and well, I got involved in a bad way. What, ah, what do you know of Doctor Anna Ripley?”

Caleb blinks. They’re wandering the outskirts of Whitestone now and there’s no one on the street.

“I know vaguely what she did to Percy,” Caleb says quietly. “He didn’t give any specifics.”

“He tries not to,” Kynan says quietly. “I fell in with Ripley. She was… good at lying. She was charismatic and turned me so easily against Vox Machina. When they followed us in Ank’Harel, searching for the Vestiges, well… I remained with Ripley’s crew. I fought on the wrong side. And because of me, Keyleth nearly died. Percy did die.” Kynan is hunched over now, hands firmly at his sides. Caleb didn’t speak, blinking over at him. “Vax insisted I came back here. Insisted that I was given a second chance. And when Percy had been, well, resurrected, he gave me a job. Head of the Riflemen. I need you to understand this, Caleb.

“Vox Machina saved my life. Percy de Rolo saved my life. And the reason for that is that they forgave me even when I did terrible things.” Caleb blinks up at him, his hands shaking ever so slightly.

“They…” he echoes, his voice cracking a little.

“Cassandra and I know that you have a lot of guilt. You carry it so much; it’s easy to see in your nightmares and the way you want to be part of the family but won’t let yourself. And Cass and I know that kind of feeling. And it will only continue to eat you up inside unless you forgive yourself, you understand? You need to talk about whatever it is that eats you up inside. Maybe not to me or to Cass, but to Percy or Vex. Or even Gilmore and Allura.”

“But they’ll never forgive me,” Caleb whispers. They’re stood at the entrance to the Greyfield now. “What I did…” he chokes on his own words and his shoulders tremble.

“No one is unforgivable, Caleb. And I don’t know what you did, so I’m not going to make any rash assumptions, but I do know you, now. You are kind and loving and you fit into the family. Let yourself see how far you’ve come, okay?” Kynan says, his voice so reassuring. “I am not the same boy who stood against Vox Machina with a dagger in my hand. And I daresay, you are not the same person as you were when this happened.”

“How can you know that?” Caleb says. He meant it to be angry, but it comes out weak and wet. It’s only then he realises that he is crying.

“Because you are far too good to do something terrible anymore. Any young man like yourself who would take on so much to look after children cannot truly be a cruel person. You have a good heart, inkling.”

Caleb looks out over the Greyfield, to where he can see the temple of the Raven Queen and the graves. And for the first time since he everything has happened; he thinks about telling someone.

He can only hope that Percy and Vex won’t hate him.

Chapter Text

It takes Caleb three days before he can bring himself to even attempt to talk to Percy and Vex. He spends these days mostly isolated, reading in his room, but honestly, he is trying to avoid the conversation.

He knows he needs to talk about what happened to his parents. He can recognise that Kynan and Cassandra are correct in the fat that he needs to talk.

But he doesn’t want Percy and Vex to hate him.

In the end, the decision to talk is made for him as after three days of not appearing at meals or playing with the children, Percy shows up at his door.

“Are you okay, inkling?” Caleb had been sitting on his bed, not really reading the book in front of him on ancient dragons. He jumps and looks over at Percy.

“Percy, I…” he trails off when he notices Vex is stood with him. It’s late, the children must have gone to bed already. Inhaling, Caleb tries to work out what to say. He was going to brush Percy off and say he is fine, but with Vex here too…

Fate really is offering him an opportunity here.

“No,” he says finally, watching as they step carefully into his room. “I’m not okay.” Vex smiles at his honesty.

“Alright, Caleb, darling. Do you want to talk about it?” she asks quietly, moving to sit on the end of his bed. Caleb is quiet for a long moment and then nods.

He needs to do this.

Percy closes the door beside himself and comes to sit in the free chair.

“I, I hope… I hope you don’t hate me after this,” Caleb says, his voice weak. “But I think that I, ah, should tell you what happened to me.” Breathe in. Breathe out. “Trent was not a kind teacher. Trent, ah, Trent Ikithon, one of the Cerberus Assembly. He… took a special interest in me and the other students from my village, Astrid and Eodwulf when we joined the Soltryce Academy. Said we could make something of ourselves. So, there was some personal, intense training.” Caleb pauses, trying to gather himself. He doesn’t want to cry.

“That, that’s where the residuum came in,” he says, scratching at the scars on his arms. “He, Trent, he knew it could amplify magic and, and, and…” Caleb is choking on the words, but Percy reaches out, placing his hands over Caleb’s. He doesn’t speak, his face carefully schooled into neutrality, but Caleb can see the fury in his eyes. Looking away nervously, Caleb notices one other thing.

There is a large raven sat on his windowsill.

“Take your time, inkling, you’re safe here,” Vex says calmly. Inhale. Exhale. Caleb nods, gripping Percy’s hand tightly.

“Okay. Okay. Ja, ja. He just kept pushing; Trent kept pushing and putting the residuum in our arms. He, he trained us to be killers. He was, ah, he was trying to mould us into Vollstreckers. Assassins. Spies. And, and, and I trusted him. I trusted him for so long.” Caleb is crying now. “He was so certain about everything, about who the traitors were. And I believed him. I believed every word he said. I killed and tortured people, whomever he said was a traitor. And… and then, then…” he trails off. The room is so quiet, aside from Caleb’s strangled sobbing.

“Trent said we had to prove ourselves. He took the three of us back home to Blumenthal and I… I… We went home. I overheard my parents talking about overthrowing the Empire and well, I knew what I was expected to do. Eodwulf was first. He slit his family’s throats at dinner. Then Astrid. She poisoned them. Then… then it was my turn. I wheeled a cart in front of the door, and I set the house on fire.

“I watched as the house burned. I was so sure. I was so sure in Trent. And, ah, when I heard my parents screaming… I broke. And well, then, then you found me. When, when Keyleth um, helped? She broke something in my mind and ah, um, the, the traitorous words from my parents were planted there. They, they were false memories. But I still did it and I can’t ever forgive myself.” And Caleb drops his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking as he cries.

The room is silent for a long moment and then Vex curses viscerally in Elvish. Caleb jumps, sniffling down his tears. Does Vex hate him?

“Caleb, listen to me,” she says, and her voice holds no space for argument. “This is not your fault. This man manipulated and tortured and hurt you. You are not responsible for this.” Caleb tries to speak but Percy shakes his head.

“Vex is right, Caleb, inkling. This man manipulated you into doing something horrible and terrible. I know you feel so much guilt for what happened and I’m not going to try to stop that. I understand that. But you cannot blame yourself for everything that happened. Trent controlled you.” Percy says his name like it physically tastes bad. “We could never hate you for this.”

“But I killed them!” Caleb wails and Vex moves, wrapping her arm around his shoulders.

“You made a mistake, darling. A big, horrible mistake, yes, but that is what it was. And, darling, you are such a good person, you hear me?” He turns his face into her shoulder, sobbing heavily. “You are kind-hearted and gentle.” She is rocking him now, her hand smoothing down his spine. “And you are not the person that Trent tried to make you. You are Caleb.”

Caleb only cries harder at this. He was so certain that the de Rolos would hate him, would never let him near their children again, would throw him out of Whitestone that their acceptance almost hurts. Percy comes to rest his hand on Caleb’s shoulder.

“You are part of our household now, Caleb,” he says, clearly choosing his words carefully. “We care about you and this will not make us stop caring. Nothing will make us stop caring.”

“Never,” Vex agrees firmly. “We will always care about you, inkling. You are allowed to let go, Caleb. You can let some of that guilt go.” And her voice is so reassuring in its certainty.

“We all make mistakes, Caleb,” Percy says. “I made plenty of ones, similar to your own. And, it took a lot of time, but I let that guilt go. I know you can too. You are a better person than you give yourself credit for.”

Caleb cries himself to sleep that night, clinging to Percy and Vex. And for the first time since he arrived in Whitestone, the crushing guilt of what he has done lessens ever so slightly.

Percy is staring out of the window. After Caleb had told them about what he had gone through, he wants desperately to help.

He wants to kill Trent Ikithon, slowly and painfully.

He wants to show Caleb that mistakes can be forgiven.

He wants to adopt Caleb into the family.

But he remembers how hard it was to reconcile what he did with Orthax with himself for so long. He doesn’t want to push Caleb too far. So, today, he gives him some space. Percy had awoken in Caleb’s room, having held vigil with Vex’ahlia that night.

His night terrors had been so bad.

Today, he watches from afar, keeping an eye on Caleb as he sits in the gardens. He’s not the only one; he notices a large raven up in the trees which has been cautiously following since the night before.

It makes Percy smile to know that Vax watches on in whatever way he can. But gods, what that poor kid went through…

He had known about the human experimentation, of course. But to think that that had been only the tip of the iceberg is horrifying. Percy has no doubts that if they had not taken Caleb away from there, he would have been tortured further. What kind of world is the Dwendalian Empire where it was okay to train children to be assassins through torture, both physical and mental?

Percy shudders. It reminds him of Whitestone before they had wrestled it back from the Briarwoods. He takes his glasses off, rubbing his eyes. Gods, he is so tired.

“Knock, knock,” says a voice and Percy turns to see Cass stood in the door.

“Hey,” he replies, sitting back in his chair. “Got bored of running Whitestone?”

“Always. Are you alright? You look tired.” Cassandra is being uncharacteristically kind. It’s not usually the way they interact.

“Caleb told me what happened last night. What happened to him back in Rexxentrum.” He drops his face into his hands. “Gods, Cass, if we hadn’t been so fucked up by the Briarwoods I would have… well. It’s safe to say he had it rough. It turns out the physical human experimentation wasn’t the even half of it.”

“That bad?” she says, moving over to stand by him. “I knew he was carrying something. He looked so guilty…”

“Yes. I’m not going tell you what, obviously. Not my place, but still. It’s a lot.” He feels her hand rest on his shoulder.

“You’re angry.”

“I’m furious. The only reason that I haven’t travelled to Rexxentrum to shoot the slimy motherfucker who did this to him is I can’t get there without Keyleth.” Cassandra hums softly in thought.

“I see. What about Caleb?”

“I think he needs some time. It took a lot out of him to tell Vex’ahlia and I. So, I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“That’s fair,” Cassandra sighs. “How did you end up repairing all these broken people, Percy?” Percy laughs, bitter and sharp.

“Experience, I suppose. I don’t want people to end up the way I did with Orthax. And Vex helped. She always helps.” Silence falls between them for a few moments and then Percy speaks again,

“I’m going to go to Rexxentrum as soon as I can. I can’t live knowing what I know now, knowing that the person who did this to Caleb still lives.”

“Don’t get yourself killed or arrested in Wildemount, brother,” says Cassandra dryly, but she doesn’t sound annoyed.

She sounds, just a little bit, proud.

In the end, Percy doesn’t have to go to Rexxentrum.

Two days later, he is reading to Vax, in the early evening. Vax is dozing off on his lap and he is happy. Just as he finally gets his eldest to sleep, a guard appears at the door. Luckily, he isn’t stupid enough to announce himself and undo all Percy’s hard work. So, after tucking Vax in, Percy gets up and steps out of his son’s room.

“Yes?” he whispers.

“Lady Allura is here to see you, sir. She’s in the main hall.” Percy nods, his brow furrowing. Allura would have usually just sent him a message, unless it was important.

“Go get Vex,” he replies and then heads off to meet Allura. Sure enough, the wizard is stood in the foyer, in her usual blue dress.

“Allura, as lovely as it is to see you, is there a reason for your visit?”

“Good evening, Percy. Yes, there was a… development that I had been made aware of and I thought you should know. Is Caleb awake? I asked the guard to get him.”

“He will be,” Percy says, frowning immediately. But before he can ask anything else, Vex comes in, followed by Caleb.

“Allura, lovely to see you,” she says, moving over to hug the wizard.

“And you too, Vex, Caleb.” Caleb waves shyly. He has been so quiet since he told Percy and Vex what happened.

“Shall we go sit in the living room? The hall is so draughty,” Vex says, ushering them all out of the foyer.

Once they are all seated, Allura looks a little more comfortable. She steeples her hands and then begins to speak.

“Today, I was informed that a member of the Cerberus Assembly had been killed. I have some dealings with them, and they thought it was pertinent to inform me.” She looks up at Percy. “You told me the name of the individual who Caleb had had dealings with when I first met Caleb, so I would know to be wary of them when dealing with the Assembly. Trent Ikithon is dead.” Allura says it with such weight, such power. Percy feels like singing.

“How? How did he die?” Vex asks immediately and her hand is on Caleb’s arm, who is looking at Allura with round, desperate eyes.

“His throat was cut, in his own chambers. None of his safety precautions had been triggered. No one got in or out of that chamber and yet… his throat was slit. I think the Assembly has been warning mages, considering this. But I did manage to get one other piece of information.”

“Yes?” Percy presses. Allura smiles, wry and dark.

“His body was covered in ravens’ feathers.”

“Vax’ildan,” Vex breathes and she gives a little laugh. “Protecting our fam – us even after death.” Percy notices her misstep and he grins.

Caleb is family now, even if they won’t say it until he is ready.

“You are sure he’s dead?” Caleb says, speaking soft and desperately.

“Yes,” Allura says. “I saw the body myself.”

Caleb begins to cry and Vex wraps her arm around his shoulders, drawing him close.

“It’s okay, inkling, it’s okay. He’s gone. He’s gone and he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I thought, I thought I would never, he would always,” Caleb stutters out, but they all understand. He looks up at Allura. “Thank you.” Percy smiles a little.

It’s not going to fix everything, Trent being dead. But it is certainly going to allow Caleb to feel like he never, ever has to deal with him again.

And Percy is very grateful to his late brother-in-law for this.

Chapter Text

It would be nice if the death of Trent Ikithon had solved everything. But that isn’t how trauma works, even Caleb knows his. It takes him another week to reintegrate himself back into the family, to trust himself enough to return to playing with Vax and Vesper.

Three weeks later, Caleb is sat with Olivia asleep on his lap, watching Vax drive his little carts all over the carpet in the main living room. Vesper is playing with her own toys in the corner and Freddie is fast asleep in the crib which Caleb is rocking with an idle Mage Hand. How the twins can sleep through the noise of their elder siblings, Caleb will never know. But children are confusing to him. Percy and Vex are getting some well-deserved rest this morning, sleeping a little late whilst he looks after the kids.

“Caleb?” Vax says, turning around suddenly.

“Ja, Vax?”

“Are you… are you like my big brother?” Caleb’s eyes go wide and he blinks.

“I… Was?”

“Well, like, Daddy looks after you like he looks after us and you’re bigger but you’re not an adult like Daddy or Mummy or Uncle Grog.”

“I… I don’t look like you or your siblings though, Vax,” Caleb tries. Honestly, he is blanking. He would love to be Vax’s older brother. In spite of everything, he sees the de Rolo children as siblings. He had always wanted younger siblings and well, they’re so wonderful. He loves them. But he doesn’t deserve a family like the de Rolos.

Gods, maybe he should talk to someone about this. Cassandra, maybe? She had a lot of guilt about her family.

“That’s okay. I think I’m gonna call you my big brother. If that’s alright with you?” Vax says in that imperious way six-year olds have. Caleb manages a nod, not wanting to hurt Vax’s feelings.

“Big brother!” Vesper says happily. “I like big brothers. Hugs?”

“Come on, over here then, Ves. I’ve got your little sister here so I can’t move.” Vesper toddles over quickly and wraps her arms around Caleb’s middle. He shifts slightly to ruffle her hair and embrace her right back. Vax grins, rushing over to join the hug.

“Hi, big brother,” he whispers into Caleb’s chest and Caleb shuts his eyes tight. Crying right now would definitely give them the wrong impression. Vax releases him and he looks down at the child, smiling so widely.

“Hallo, little brother.”

“When I’m bigger, will you teach me magic?” Caleb laughs, a little wetly.

“Ja, Vax. I will teach you magic when you are bigger. But for now, how about you catch it?” He finishes the sentence by spinning his free hand quickly, casting Minor Illusion to send a little sparrow flying up out of his palm. Vesper and Vax both turn to the sparrow and excitedly chase it across the room as Caleb places Olivia gently in her own crib. She fusses as she goes down, but she settles as soon as Caleb moves his Mage Hand to rock it gently. The children soon go back to their own little games. Caleb thinks.

Family. It has snuck up on him, how quickly Whitestone has become home, how soon the de Rolos have become family. Percy is a soothing presence which he would never have expected, Vex’ahlia a pressing caregiver and Vox Machina are kind, but slightly overbearing family members.

Even Vax’ildan, whom he never met, appears to have taken a shine to him, if his beyond-the-grave murder of Trent Ikithon is anything to go off.

But he doesn’t deserve it. He killed his own family. How can he ever deserve another one?

Caleb actually seeks out Cassandra which surprises her. She is sat working quietly in her room, reviewing some proposals from the Council of Whitestone in the early evening when there is a quiet knock on her door.

“Come in,” she calls, haphazardly and turns to see Caleb stood in the door. “Oh, hello, Caleb. What can I do for you?” It has been over a week since her conversation with Percy, since Vax’ildan had apparently dealt with the teen’s tormenter from the other side of the veil. She hasn’t really seen Caleb much, apart from his silent attendance at mealtimes. She doesn’t begrudge him at all, but it is a little odd for him to come to her. They have certainly grown closer but not massively.

“I, um, may I speak with you?” he says, eyes firmly fixed on the floor and his hands lightly scratching at the insides of his arms.

“Of course. Come in, shut the door if you like.” Cassandra sets her quill down and moves to drag the spare chair in her room over to the desk. Caleb does close the door and accepts the chair, all whilst not looking at her. “Do you want a drink or anything?” Caleb shakes his head jerkily and then snaps his fingers, summoning a cat from thin air.

Cassandra is suitably impressed, but it seems more like Caleb did so to ground him. So, she doesn’t mention it.

They sit there in silence for a few moments, Caleb’s shoulders hunched and eyes down.

“I, um, I want to talk to you about family,” he finally manages to whisper out and Cass sits back in her chair a little. She doesn’t know how much help she can be, but there must be a reason he came to her and didn’t go to Percy or Vex.

“Okay,” she says, simply, letting Caleb work himself up into talking.

“I… You told me a little while ago that you felt like you had betrayed your family and Whitestone when you joined the Briarwoods. How, how did you like, um, reconcile that?” Cass looks him over slowly and things begin to make a little more sense.

“I, well. You remember how I talked about the difference between forgiving yourself and letting that guilt crush you? I got very close to letting that guilt crush me. But Percy noticed, just like he noticed you and he helped. But I only let him help because he is my brother,” she says gently and Caleb buries his face into the soft fur of his cat.

“I’m… I feel trapped, Lady- Ah, Cass. I very much appreciate all of the support but I…” Caleb makes a faint sound in the back of his throat, a harrowing sob. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve any of it. I killed my family and how, how can I ever deserve another?” he wails. Cass is quiet then, for a long moment. Percy had not told her what Caleb had told him and yet, she knows from her brother’s reaction to this news that there is much more to it. Percy cares a lot about family, especially after everything, so to know that he was willing to kill for this teenager says much more than Cass will admit.

“Caleb, please listen to me,” she says, her voice as gentle as she can make it. “Deserving something is bullshit. We all get things we do or don’t deserve. Did the de Rolos deserve to die? No. Did I really deserve the forgiveness Whitestone and Percy gave me? No. But I received it anyway, Caleb. Deserving something doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. What is important is how you deal with it, you understand?” Caleb looks up from the belly fur of his cat, wiping his eyes.

“How… how can I deal with my guilt?” he whispers. Cass sighs a little.

“I don’t know, Caleb, honestly. I didn’t deal with mine very well. But I guess this,” she gestures between them. “is the first step. You talk to people. You work through the issues. I spent a lot of time crying on Percy, not that either of us would ever admit that again, so don’t even try telling anyone.” Caleb even manages to smile at that, rubbing his eyes lightly. “But honestly, Caleb? You ask for help.” They are both quiet for a long moment as Caleb considers this. Then, he whispers,

“Vax called me brother and I almost cried. I had always wanted siblings. I want to be good enough for them.”

“You already are Caleb. Percy and Vex consider you their son,” Cassandra says firmly. She watches as the teen’s head shoots up to look at her with wide eyes.

“Why, why wouldn’t they tell me?”

“They don’t want to scare you. They want you to be able to join the de Rolo family at your own pace. But we all consider you family. Do not forget that.” He wipes his eyes sheepishly, sniffling a little.

“I… I just don’t know what to do with that. I know I do not deserve a new family. I killed my parents.”

“Caleb, listen. I don’t want to ask about what happened with you, it is completely up to you if you tell me. Or I can ask Percy if you don’t want to talk. But I do know something things. I know that you are a good person despite this. And, you are family. We love and care for you.” Cassandra stands up and, in an uncharacteristic show of affection, she kneels before Caleb to hug him. Caleb leans forward, snapping away the cat with a twitch of his fingers and curling into her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice thick with unshed tears.

“Why are you sorry?” she murmurs, rubbing his back slowly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I just… I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re definitely never that,” Cass says sharply. “Family cannot be a burden, Caleb. You look after them despite everything. And you are not a lot of work or are awkward in any way.” He cries quietly then, his face pressed into her shoulder. And Cass just holds him, quiet and stoic in her own way.

“Thank you,” he whispers into her shoulder, sniffling as he finishes crying. “I appreciate the advice. And I’m sorry for crying on you.”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone you did,” Cass says, with a dry joke in her voice. It makes Caleb smile anyway so it was worth it. “But I do think you should talk to Vex or Percy about this when you’re ready, okay?” He nods, rubbing his eyes.

“I will. I’m just not sure I’m ready to be part of a family again yet.”

“And that’s okay. We can wait until you are. What is your cat called, by the way? He looks very lovely.”

“Ah, Frumpkin,” Caleb says smiling. “He is my familiar.”

“Ah, yes, I remember Percy talking about your lessons with Allura. Well, I am glad you have him.”

“Me too,” he murmurs. “Thank you again, Cassandra. I appreciate the time. And, um, I think it would be best if you ask Percy about what happened. I don't really want to talk about it.”

“It was no trouble, Caleb, I promise. And I will do, if that is what you want. I will speak to him.” She gets up and so does Caleb, wiping his eyes one last time.

"Thank you," he whispers before he nods to her and slips out of the room. Cass sighs a little.

God, they had really done a number on that child back in Wildemount, hadn’t they? She runs a hand through her hair, slouching back in her seat. What had he done to deserve the kind of abuse he clear had gotten over there? She is lucky that after everything with the Briarwoods, she is aware of how to deal with these kinds of things.

“Knock knock?” comes a voice at her door and she startles, surprised to get another visitor so soon. Kynan stands there, looking a little sheepish.

“Oh, hi, Kynan,” she waves him in and sits up a little.

“I’m not disturbing you, am I? You look… tired.”

“No, no, come in. I was just speaking with Caleb.”

“He came to you for advice?” Kynan sounds incredulous… too incredulous and Cassandra gives him a withering stare as he comes to sit opposite, wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Shut up. I can give good advice.”

“Whatever you say,” he teases and then sighs, getting a little more serious “He alright? He hasn’t been to see me since I told him to talk to Vex and Percy about what was eating him up so badly.”

“He’s okay,” Cass says, her voice low. “It’s been a lot for him, I think. He wanted to talk about family, what with everything. He said that Vax called him big brother.”

“That’s good, though?” Kynan frowns. He’s still covered in dust and smells like black powder, so he’s been working at the forge or training the Riflemen all day.

“It was just a bit much for him. Feels like he doesn’t deserve family. Which, I mean, I understand that and I’m sure you can empathise.”

“Cass, most of our family can empathise with that. We’re all fucked right up.” Cassandra huffs a laugh and shrugs.

“Oh, I mean, definitely. But we know how to deal with fucked up people because of it.” There is a moment of quiet and Kynan looks down at his hands.

“You think Caleb’s gonna be okay? Do you think he’ll forgive himself?”

“In time. I think it’s just going to need quiet support from us. Not pressuring. And well, it’s okay if he doesn’t forgive himself completely. He just needs to release some of that guilt.” Kynan nods, shuffling the chair over so he can lean his head on Cass’s shoulder which she accepts immediately.

“Alright. I can do that.”

“Good,” she mutters, settling against him. “He’s a really good kid, Kynan. Just…”

“Fucked up, like the rest of us?” Kynan suggests and Cass cracks a tired smile.

“Something like that.” They sit there silently for a long few moments, just thinking and Cassandra realises she is so glad that she got Percy back. Honestly, she doesn’t know who she would have been without him.

They can give Caleb that same family. That same bond. In time.

Chapter Text

It’s a fairly dreary day in Whitestone when it happens. The sky is grey, threatening rain, but never really going through with it.

Caleb and Cassandra are looking after the children, sat in the playroom as Caleb reads to them. Percy and Vex are out of town with the rest of Vox Machina. Olivia and Freddie are going on seven months old now and Caleb remembers the worry Vex had been in yesterday morning when they left.

“Okay, they need feeding and make sure they sleep long enough and don’t let Vax eat too many sugary things and-”

“Vex,” Cassandra says, smiling. “Caleb and I will be fine. It is not the first time we have looked after your children. Go on, deal with whatever it is you’re going to go poke. Pelor knows you and my brother deserve some time off.”

“Something about an Ilithid Lich under Kraghammer,” Percy replies, toying with the fastenings of Cabal’s Ruin. Caleb has only seen them so dressed up when they first saved him and as he looks at them now, he is a little awed. Percy’s guns are slung over his back and hung on his belt, small scale gadgets in his pockets. Vex looks both regal and dangerous in her white dragon armour, with Fenthras in her hand and her quiver on her back.

“Be careful,” he says quietly and Percy smiles.

“We will be. We shouldn’t be gone long, only a couple of days,” he replies.

“It will be nice to stretch the old muscles again as it were,” Vex says and then they both perk up. “Oh, Keyleth is here.” She leans down and kisses Vax on the forehead, then Vesper.

“Be good, okay?”

“We will,” Vax says excitedly and Vesper nods. “Bye bye Mummy! Bye bye Daddy!”

“Goodbye, we’ll be back very soon,” Percy says, ruffling Vesper’s short hair. Percy pauses to give Caleb a quick hug before they both head out of the door. Caleb scoops up Vesper and gives Vax a grin.

“Now,” he says. “Shall we go play in the living room?”

That was yesterday. It’s late afternoon now and they’re having a lovely day. Caleb is reading a fairy tale to the children, managing to get Olivia and Freddie to drop off for their afternoon naps but Vax and Vesper are hanging on to his every word.

“Then, the hero turned, her sword held out as she moved deeper into the caves,” Caleb reads, his voice low and playful. “It wasn’t dark in here as the walls of the cave were covered in small, glowing flowers.” He moves his fingers, casting Minor Illusion to show tiny white flowers at the feet of the children who giggle excitedly. He loves doing small scale magic for them because they react so well. Honestly, Caleb knows that the positive reaction he gets from the children gives him more confidence in his spell casting than anything. He continues to read, doing voices for when the characters speak and casting more small-scale illusions.

When the chapter is finished, Vax’ildan bounds to his feet, gesturing wildly.

“I want to play heroes! Will you play with me, Caleb?” Caleb laughs softly and nods.

“Ja, ja, okay. Though perhaps…” he looks up at Cassandra and she nods.

“I’ll take the twins to their room and keep an eye on them. I have some reading to do anyway,” she replies lightly, moving to carefully pick up the sleeping quarter-elves. They stir but settle back down quickly. Caleb smiles gratefully. He doesn’t want Vax to wake them. As Cassandra leaves, Vesper waves which makes Caleb smile.

“Alright, Vax, let’s play.” Cue five minutes of Vax running around the room, chased by Caleb in the role of ‘the big monster’ with Vesper happily toddling around after them. It’s domestic and Caleb loves it. He loves having siblings to play with even if he hasn’t admitted to himself that he is part of the de Rolo family just yet.

Caleb finally catches up with Vax and proceeds to tickle him silly whilst he squeals and squirms. He finally lets him go, laughing as Vesper comes to cuddle up with them.

“You’re mean,” Vax huffs, but he is grinning widely and Caleb chuckles.

“Okay, Vax.” And seconds later, Vax is cuddling him too.

“Can we have a snack?” Vesper asks quietly and Caleb ruffles her hair.

“Alright, I will see if I can find you a snack.” He gets up, ready to move towards the door when it swings open. There is a guard stood there, breathing heavily, like they have just run through the castle.

“Young master Caleb. You are needed urgently at the temple of Sarenrae,” they say and glance at the children.

Caleb’s heart plummets.

“What about, what about Vax and Vesper?” he says slowly, and the guard straightens their shoulders.

“I shall look after them. You really need to go, sir,” they say and Caleb nods, straightening up.

“Look after them,” he says carefully and then he turns and leaves.

The Temple of Sarenrae. The only reason he would be needed somewhere like that is if something has gone wrong in the temple somehow.

It’s close to Whitestone Castle, about fifteen or twenty minutes on foot.

Caleb gets to the temple in ten. He hurries up to the closed doors and carefully creaks them open.

He isn’t sure what he had expected, but it isn’t this. It could never have been this.

Vox Machina are back, bloody and beaten and crowded around the central altar of the temple. It is a large flat space upon which Pike is rapidly scrawling runes in a white chalk, her white hair orange with blood.

And there is a body lying on the altar, still, dead eyes staring up at the ceiling, clothes torn, and gore covered.

It is Percival.

Caleb makes a panicked, strangled sound and Vex turns to him. Her eyes are wet and red-rimmed.

“Caleb,” Keyleth says and he can hear that she’s been crying too. He lets her pull him close, tears prickling at his own eyes.

Percy can’t be dead; he can’t leave them now. The children need him, Cassandra needs him, Caleb needs him.

His legs feel weak and wobbly as he collapses into Keyleth’s arms, gasping out,

“What happened?”

“There were more of ‘em than we expected,” Grog rumbles and his voice is smaller than Caleb has ever heard it. “Percy got caught out away from us. Pike couldn’t get there in time.” Vex is crying again and Caleb’s shoulders are shaking with the effort to force down his own sobs.

“None of us could even see him,” mutters Scanlan and he sounds distraught, his face in his hands.

“We can bring him back,” Pike says fiercely, looking up as she moves to grab some candles. “I just need a little more time.” Caleb wipes his eyes fiercely and looks up at Vex, stood on the other side of Percy’s body. He shuffles out of Keyleth’s hold to go over to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

She turns, sobbing quietly into his shoulder and he lets himself cry again, silently.

It takes Pike a while to construct the ritual and Caleb can’t think to do anything but cry. Vex doesn’t let him go and honestly, he doesn’t want to let her go. He doesn’t know what he will do if they lose Percy for good. There is still so much that he wants to say, so much he needs to tell him, to tell them all. And he doesn’t think he can do without him.

Percy is so still, so pale. His hair is black and red with soot and blood and Cabal’s Ruin has been draped over his abdomen to hide the wounds. Pike is beginning to finish up her preparations when something swoops in through the open window at the back of the temple.

It’s a raven. Huge wings beating, the raven lands on the altar above Percy’s head. Pike pauses and then smiles sadly.

“Your blessing is appreciated, Vax’ildan,” she says quietly, and Caleb understands. He has heard a lot about Vax’ildan over the last few months, about Vex’s twin brother who is now the eternal champion to the Raven Queen. Vax, who is the reason he is free from Trent Ikithon. Vax, who is family.

Pike turns to them, her cheeks still wet with tears and nods.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay.” She closes her eyes and begins to chant, weaving the spell around them. After a few moments, the candles are lit, and the room is filled with a warm golden light. The runes below Percy’s body glow and Pike sniffles.

“Vex, do you want to go first?” Vex nods, letting Caleb go. She reaches up into her hair and pulls out a pin, shaped like an arrow.

“I gave this to you, a little before our wedding. And then on our wedding day, I used it to kill the man who had destroyed your family. I guess, it’s ah, it’s so much part of both of us. It’s part of our love and our life. You can’t leave me now, Percival. You can’t leave the family now. We have our children to look after and I… I can’t do it without you.” She places the pin over his breastbone, wiping her eyes. “I love you so much Percy. Please come home.” One set of runes light up and Pike gives a little smile.

“Uh, who wants to go next?”

“I will,” Keyleth says quietly.

“Wait, I, um, to inspire you,” Scanlan cuts in. He picks up his flute and plays a quiet, melancholy song, haunting through out the room. Keyleth manages a weak smile before looking down at Percival.

“Percy… You need to come home. You’re not finished yet,” she whispers and twists her hands together. In her palms, a bunch of snowdrops and cornflowers bloom, twisting and spiralling into a wreath which she places just over the pin. A moment later, another set of runes lights up.

“Okay,” Pike says quietly. “Last one.”

“I… Um, what do I do?” Caleb asks immediately. He wants to help; he desperately wants Percy to wake up but his knowledge of this kind of clerical spell is limited.

“You are um, imploring Percy’s spirit to come back,” Pike says. “Talk to him, if you like.” Caleb nods, leaning forward to brush some hair out of Percy’s face. And then, he begins to speak.

“Percy. I… I need you to come back, please. I have got so much left to learn and I need you to help me through it. I am not ready to do this on my own.” He’s crying again, his hands shaking. “Dad, I can’t do this without you.” And quietly, Caleb begins to sing. It’s the celestial lullaby which Percy had sung to him, atop the battlements when he had talked about his family, which Percy had sung when Caleb had panic attacks, which Percy had sung to calm him when they first took him in. Caleb sings out all of the sorrow, all of the pain and all of his love for this family.

The family he is part of, has been part of for so very long, but only now is he allowing himself that.

And the final set of runes light up, bright and brilliant. On the altar above Percy’s head, the raven spreads its wings, defensively, as though haloing his head.

Vex wraps her arms around Caleb and he turns into her, crying. Behind him, Pike completes the ritual, watching as the diamond components shatter across Percy’s chest and melt into nothingness. Light fills the room, comfortingly and then…

Everything fades. Pike finishes her invocation. The runes die out. Everything is quiet. Nobody dares even to cry.

And then, Percy inhales. Caleb’s legs feel weak once more.

“Fuck…” whispers Scanlan heavily and Vex reaches out to press a green, glowing hand to Percy’s chest. The healing magic sinks into him and he groans, his eyes slowly opening.

“Ow,” he mutters. “Hello darling.” Vex sobs and leans down to wrap her arms around him.

“Don’t you dare fucking do that again,” she hisses and Percy chuckles dryly.

“Alright love, alright.” He reaches up to smooth his hand slowly down her spine. “I’m here, it’s okay.”

“She’s right though Percy,” Scanlan says, trying to hide his tear stains. “I’m getting too old for the stress of people dying.”

“Yeah, we gotta fucking stick together,” Grog grunts. “You guys have got kids and everything.” Percy sits up a little and looks up at Caleb.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “But I’m okay now. Did anyone tell the others?”

“I asked the guards to get Caleb but not let the children know and inform Cassandra,” Vex replies, still not letting Percy go.

“Cass was with the twins when I left,” Caleb says quietly, his voice still thick with tears. “Vax and Vesper were with a guard.”

“We’ll go check on them,” Keyleth says. She leans down and hugs Percy, sniffling. “Don’t you dare do that again. Three times is quite enough, thank you.” Percy smiles and leans into her embrace but doesn’t say anything. Keyleth and Pike both turn to leave and when Grog and Scanlan don’t, Pike clears her throat, making them move.

The raven is still sat there, and Percy shifts to look up at it.

“Thank you, Vax,” he whispers, and the raven bows its head before flying out of the doors after the rest of Vox Machina. Vex helps Percy sit up and from the winces and frowns, it is fairly uncomfortable for him. He is whole once more, but still in pain. Caleb twitches a little. He desperately wants to hug Percy, to know he is okay, to curl up in his arms. The man smiles.

“Come here, inkling,” he says and Caleb flies into his arms, his shoulders shaking.

“You were dead,” he wails, and Percy rubs his back gently. “You were dead and I didn’t know what to do and…” Caleb tails off, sniffling.

“I’m right here, Caleb. I’m not going anywhere, alright?” he murmurs, tightening his hold around him. “I’m staying right here.” The three of them are quiet for a long moment as Caleb hides his face in Percy’s shoulder. He is trying to work up the courage to say what he said when Percy was dead.

“I heard you, you know,” Percy says, making that decision for Caleb. He tenses against him, sniffling. “I heard what you said. It’s okay if you don’t want to say it again, but you are family Caleb. You know that right? You are family and we love you.”

“Dad…” Caleb whispers, so quietly, but he knows Percy hears it, his hand stilling against Caleb’s shoulder blades. “I have known for a while. I just, my parents and everything and… But I know. And I want to be part of the family.”

“Caleb de Rolo has such a lovely ring to it,” Vex says, gently and Caleb sniffles. He turns to look at her and she is smiling so widely.

“I like that,” he says, managing a smile of his own. “I like that, Mum.” And Vex can’t hide the way her smile softens and yet grows when Caleb calls her that.

“C’mon, Cay,” Percy says, moving to get up. “This stone slab is incredibly uncomfortable, and I really should get changed before we go find your siblings.” Caleb nods, wiping his eyes before moving to help Percy get up.

They walk back to Whitestone Castle together and Caleb feels truly, deeply happy with his family.

Chapter Text

Family. That is something which shapes the rest of Caleb de Rolo’s life.

Percy teaches him about the governing systems of Whitestone, alongside Cassandra and Caleb is young when takes up a position on the council. He is good at it. Charismatic and intelligent, diplomacy is something which he has significant talent in. Besides, Cassandra always says he speaks with such gravitas that everyone listens no matter what he has to say.

Vex and Percy teach him a little of how to protect himself, but honestly, they leave most of it to Gilmore and Allura. Under their tutelage, he becomes a formidable wizard, Frumpkin his ever-steady companion. He cannot express how grateful he is to them for the help they have given him. They are both family to him, just as much as the rest of Vox Machina.

And what about them?

Caleb loves them just as much.

Grog and he do wood carvings together and Caleb helps Grog with his reading. It is something which they both appreciate because it calms Caleb immeasurably to be able to be useful and gives Grog a skill that he has always felt awkward about not having.

Pike teaches him how to bind and treat wounds without magical assistance. She bandages up the younger De Rolos when they get themselves into trouble and soon enough, Caleb can do it himself, the perfect older brother.

Keyleth teaches him about the usefulness of plants should you get caught out in the wild and in return Caleb tells her about the flora of the Zemni Fields. They often spend quiet hours in the Parchwood Forest, merely enjoying each other’s company.

Scanlan plays tricks on him and teases a little, but never goes too far. And more than anything, the lazy, easy, playful way Scanlan uses magic helps Caleb to feel comfortable with his own spellcasting. It is something that is to be seen as beautiful.

As for his parents? Well, Percy and Vex are kind but firm teachers. They don’t let him stray back into self-destructive habits, but they are always willing to be there for him.

They’re so proud of him.

When Caleb is 22, Vex falls pregnant again and he takes on the role of Sophist of Native Ingenuity on the council of Whitestone as Percy focuses on looking after his wife. It is a position he enjoys massively and when Percy offers it to him permanently after the birth of their daughter, Johanna Cassandra de Rolo, he accepts.

Caleb dotes on his younger siblings. He teaches little Jo how to control the innate magic she has as a tiefling and she shows such an affinity for it that Caleb knows she is a sorcerer. Olivia and Freddie are mischievous and playful in the way that twins who are so close tend to be, but Caleb always lets them pull him into pranks. He loves the chaos just as much. Vesper is quiet and serious, similar to Cassandra, but she is kind and affectionate. Caleb and her love to spend evenings in the library, enjoying each other’s company in silence.

Vax and Caleb are the closest. He has such a love for nature, for the creation of natural magic from a young age and Keyleth only helps that to flourish. Caleb and Vax are pretty inseparable as the quarter-elf ages, brothers in so much more than blood.

When Caleb is 28, Percy has a family portrait commissioned. It sits in the entrance hall to Whitestone Castle, showing the whole family. From Caleb’s flaming red hair, to Vax’s bright blue eyes, to Jo’s warm purple skin, to the immense joy in Vex’s face…

It is an image that Caleb will never forget.

It is his family.

“Caleb?” Vax sticks his head around the door of Caleb’s office, grinning up at his big brother.

“What’s up, raven?” Caleb says, looking over the paperwork from the council.

“Come outside with me?” he wheedles. The wizard puts down his quill and looks over at the 16-year-old. Vax’ildan is old for his age, intelligent and kind but desperate to help his family in any way possible. His hands are clasped behind his back as he looks at Caleb, fiddling with something.

“I’ve got paperwork…” he tries, but he knows that Vax won’t take no for an answer.

“You’ve been stuck in here all day, Cay. C’mon, I’ve learnt a new thing and I want to show you please?” His bright blue eyes, so much like their father’s, glitter. With a sigh, Caleb nods and gets up.

“Fine, fine. Have you been practicing with Aunt Keyleth?”

“Yes! She reckons I could be quiet the formidable druid one day,” Vax runs over to tug Caleb on through the corridors.

“I mean, you’re doing really good now,” Caleb says with a shrug, hurrying to keep up as he summons Frumpkin to sit around his neck.

“Thank you,” Vax beams up at him as they hurry down the stairs. “That is really praise coming from you, mister wizard.” Caleb blushes just a little at that, ruffling Vax’s short shorn hair.

“Thanks. Now, come on, what is this cool thing you want to show me?” They’re outside now, in one of the courtyards of Whitestone Castle.

“Oh, oh, yeah!” Vax closes his eyes and concentrates for a moment before his entire form shifts and he becomes a small, black cat. Caleb laughs, excited and warm.

“That’s quite something, spatz.” He leans down, stroking the cat that his younger brother has become, beaming from ear to ear. He is so proud of the boy. The druidic magic was almost easy to him but still, he’s only a child. Caleb is simply so happy that he has found something that brings him so much joy. A moment later, Vax returns to his usual quarter-elf form, grinning wildly.

“I can Beast Shape now! Only some small creatures, but I’m really getting there!” Caleb draws him into a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you. You are doing so well, Vax.” At that, his brother hugs back, only able to smile wider.

“Thank you, Caleb,” he whispers. They hold the hug for a few seconds when Caleb smiles and leans back.

“Have you shown Mum and Dad yet?”

“No! Oh, we should go tell them, come on.” And they head off together, Caleb’s paperwork forgotten for the moment.

When Caleb is 32, things start to change.

He becomes restless in his job as Sophist of Native Ingenuity. The paperwork is boring and long and mindless. More and more commonly, Caleb finds himself pacing the Parchwood Forest late at night, with Frumpkin around his neck, unable to settle, to relax.

It doesn’t even take a week for Percy to pick up on it.

“Inkling?” he knocks quietly on Caleb’s office door late one afternoon.

“Oh, Dad! Hey,” he says, standing up in surprise. He had been trying to fill in some forms but had found himself staring out at the ravens wheeling over head in the grounds of the castle. Percy smiles a little, coming over to take a seat opposite him. He looks older now, face lined with the signs of laughter, his beard full and as shock white as the hair on his head had always been to Caleb’s eyes.

“You alright?” The question is quiet but loaded with meaning, and as Percy adjusts his glasses, Caleb knows he’s not getting out of this one lightly.

Doesn’t mean he isn’t going to try.

“Just paperwork, you know?” he laughs a little, waving his hand over the desk. Percy doesn’t even deign that with a response, eyebrow raising.

And Caleb crumbles. He’s not good at hiding things from Percy.

“I don’t even know, Dad,” he mutters, raising up his hands to plant his face into them. “I just feel trapped. And I don’t know why! I’m happy here. I love you and Mum and all my siblings and everyone but… I feel so trapped.” He’s gotten so much better over the years at expressing his emotions, at telling the people he cares about just what he feels. He owes that to the pestering of his family.

“Mm, I see. How long has this been going on for?”

“I guess a few weeks? I just want to…”

“Leave?” Percy suggests quietly and Caleb looks scandalised.

“No! I love Whitestone and everything here. I don’t want to leave.” Percy’s smile grows slight and knowing but he doesn’t interrupt. “I just feel very confined. I’m sure it will pass.”

“Or you could leave for just a little bit,” Percy suggests, waving a hand to the window. “Go see the world. Your mother and I certainly did our fair share of wandering around in our youth.”

“Are you suggesting I become a mercenary?” Caleb asks, running a hand through his hair.

“Just for a little while. It’s surprising what you can learn when there’s a group of idiots around you. Besides, you’re a powerful wizard. Your talents are wasted on council work.” He waves a hand over all of the paper which covers Caleb’s desk.

Caleb sighs. He had considered leaving Whitestone, just for a short while, to try and clear his head. But after everything that has happened with his family and Percy’s brief stint being dead all those years ago, he hadn’t considered doing anything actually dangerous.

“You don’t have to, Caleb,” Percy says placatingly. “It is merely an option. Besides, if anything happens, just come home. We’re here and happy to help with anything at all.”

“I don’t know… It’s clearly dangerous,” he says, gesturing vaguely to Percy who chuckles, running a hand over his right shoulder. Caleb has seen some of the scars his father has picked up over the years.

“It is. But that’s part of the joy of it. It’s why we still go out and flex the proverbial muscles as it were.” Caleb stands and heads over to the window, looking over the courtyard below.

“I want to be useful,” he murmurs. “I don’t feel like I am making a difference here anymore.” A hand rests on his shoulder and he leans into Percy’s touch ever so slightly.

“You are always making a difference here, Caleb. To me, to Vex, to your siblings. But I understand. It is your decision, inkling. But getting out of Whitestone, at least for a short while might be good for you.” Caleb watches the ravens flying overhead and mulls it over. There are so many places he hasn’t been. So many areas he has read about but never seen. And perhaps he can go, as just a small break and see what happens. If mercenary work comes along, he isn’t going to say no.

Besides, he knows so many spells now. He reckons he could be quite the formidable mercenary.

“You’re right,” he mutters. “I should travel. At least for a little while.” Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Percy smile slightly.

“If you think that will help. I’ll go back to the role of Sophist of Native Ingenuity, don’t worry about that. Where are you thinking of going?”

“I think Wildemount? I would like to see the Menagerie Coast.” Percy chuckles and nods easily.

“Sounds like a lovely place to start. C’mon, let’s go see what we can find about getting there.”

Two weeks later, Caleb is ready to go. Vex had fussed over him, trying to get him into leather armour but he found it so cumbersome and restrictive for spellcasting. He merely promises to keep Mage Armour ready if he should get into any trouble.

“You better write home!” Olivia says firmly, her arms folded as he stands in front of the whole family.

“Of course. I’ll tell you all about my adventures. About the things I see, alright?”

“And you’re going to be careful, right, Cay?” Vesper says quietly, chewing nervous on her quill. Caleb gives her a brief hug.

“I will, Vesper, I promise. I’ll be careful. And I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Still going to miss you,” mutters Freddie sheepishly. He gets a hair ruffle as both of the twins are hugged.

“I’ll miss you all too, but I have to do this. I need to go find out some more things, okay?” Jo is next in line, her tail flicking nervously from side to side. Caleb kneels down to hug her.

“You be good for Mum and Dad, okay, Jo? Keep practicing that magic.” She nods, clinging to him.

“I will. Love you, Cay.” He just smiles, hugging her tighter. Then Vax clears his throat.

“You’re gonna be great. Tell me about all the new flora you find, alright?” Caleb laughs and nods, straightening back up to hug him.

“I’ll send you clippings whenever I can, promise. Then you can Druidcraft them back here and have the best garden, alright?”

“Alright. See you soon.”

“See you soon, raven.” He extracts himself from his siblings and turns to look at his adoptive parents. They both look so proud.

“Take care of yourself,” Percy says gently. “And, here. Allura and Gilmore helped but I thought… Well. I hope it will be useful.” He hands over a book, leather bound and beautiful. Caleb blinks, opening it and leafing through for a moment.

It’s a spell book, with pages blank for spells for him to learn but those that he already knows added in Percy’s gentle curving handwriting. Caleb beams, throwing his arms around him.

“Thanks, Dad. It’s beautiful.” Percy hugs him tightly back, his eyes just a little wet. Caleb glances over at Vex as he lets go. She is smiling so widely but he can see the glisten of tears in her eyes.

“I’ll be back soon, Mum. I promise. And I’ll write.”

“I know,” she says, adjusting his robes slightly. “And I’m so proud of you. This is going to be just what you need. But don’t be gone too long, alright?” Caleb nods, letting her tug him close. When she lets go, Vex has that sharp twinkle back in her eye. “Don’t have too much fun without us.” Caleb laughs and nods, stepping back.

“See you all soon.”

And, with that, he summons Frumpkin to sit around his neck and Caleb de Rolo heads out, to find adventure.

Chapter Text

Nicodranas is beautiful. Caleb has only been here for a few days but he loves it.

The trip over to the Menagerie Coast from Tal’Dorei had been long and frustrating, in which Caleb learnt that he thankfully does not get seasick, but he does rather hate the tedium of boat travel. He really had not brought enough books to deal with the long ride to Port Damali. Still, it is a fairly peaceful journey. There is one instance in which a few mercreatures had gotten over excited and decided to try their luck against the boat. But, Caleb wasn’t the only mage on board and they soon fled, finding it much better protected than they had expected.

Port Damali had also been fairly lovely. It was nice to be in a place in which no one knew his face or his name. Caleb flitted around the bars and taverns, fitting in well enough. Admittedly, his clothing is fairly nice. It’s durable and protective, but somewhat understated, in the rich royal blue that the de Rolo house is known for. And whilst Caleb had liked Port Damali, he didn’t really want to stay there.

About three weeks into his journey, before he leaves Port Damali, Caleb writes home. He includes the tale about the mercreatures, a few small sea flowers that he had found for Vax and some feathers from a sea bird which will make excellent quills for Vesper. He includes a small sketch of the seals on the coast for Freddie and a tiny watercolour painting of the sunset for Olivia. And, on a small scrap of paper, he inscribes a short poem for Jo. He signs the letter with a flourish, love to all the family and posts it back to Whitestone. It’s a slow way to correspond, but it is what he has currently.

And so, he rents a horse and rides along the coast.

He doesn’t think he will ever tire of the sight of the sun rising out of the ocean in the east. He stops in a couple of other port side towns on the way, teaching himself to fish using lures created by minor illusion for extra effect. For the first time in a long time, Caleb is completely self-sufficient and it makes him happy.

He loves Whitestone so much, adores his home and family with everything he is, but it is also nice to feel free.

He has been away from Whitestone for around five weeks when he reaches Nicodranas. The city is beautiful in the light of the sun as Caleb rides in. He heads down by the sea, following the path, pausing to get off his horse. It’s getting late in the day and the sun is beginning to set into the sea, turning the sky and the sea a beautiful bronze. He touches the small necklace that Vex’ahlia had given him about five years ago, a gold symbol of Pelor. Whilst Caleb does not care much for the gods, he understands their power and knows Vex’s connection to Pelor in particular.

And stood here, watching the sun set into the sea, Caleb can’t help but think about her.

“Miss you, Mum,” he murmurs, stroking the points of the symbol. “Hope you’re all doing okay.”

He waits, watching the sunset turn the sea aflame, sat just on the sandbanks. As the sky darkens completely, Caleb stands and heads back into Nicodranas itself. The city is beautiful, constantly moving and shifting in a riot of colour and excitement. It is everything that Whitestone isn’t, bright in a way that is almost too loud, warm and a constant assault on the senses. He doesn’t think he could live here, but it is an experience.

The bar he finds is just as lively and excitable. Caleb gets himself a drink, settling down at an empty table. He enjoys spending time in inns, if he admits it to himself. Perfect for people watching.

There is one group, fairly rowdy, who appear to be having an argument a little way away. They’re a mixed bunch, various races and colours.

“Beau’s Bros is still better!” This is yelled by a human woman, wearing all blue, a quarterstaff strapped to her back. She is gesticulating wildly with a mug of ale whilst her companions whine in response.

“Some of us are not bros,” points out a blue-skinned tiefling, giggling all the time. Her hair is cut into a short bob and her curled ram’s horns are lightly adorned with silver. “Does that discount us?”

“What? No, Jessie, like no,” replies the human woman.

“Then, that is a little confusing, no?” says a tall, very pale woman with long black hair and muscles the size of Caleb’s head.

“My vote is still with Chaos Crew!” A shrill voice, from a small goblin woman who is drinking from a hip flask.

“I have to agree with Nott. Chaos Crew is better.” This comes from another tiefling; purple-skinned, lazing over the pale woman. His eyes are flat, red and his skin is covered in tattoos or scars.

“Why is this such a thing for us?” groans a half-orc, his face in his hands.

“Everything is a thing for us, Fjord,” replies the purple tiefling, smiling with fangs bared. There is only one other member of this group, a tall firbolg with pink hair and pale fur, watching bemusedly.

Caleb is fascinated.

For one, it is unusual to see a firbolg like this at all. He has never met one before. Two, this group are clearly mercenaries of some kind. They have too many weapons on them, too many scars, too much armour for literally any other kind of work. Three, they’re boisterous and fun. They’re everything that Caleb recognises when all of Vox Machina get back together.

The little group continue to bicker, seemingly about what to call themselves, without much success, when the firbolg looks over at Caleb. He blushes, embarrassed at being caught watching. Vex and Percy would be so disappointed that he had been caught. They’d taught him to be much sneakier at watching people than that. Lip-reading was one of the first things that Vex’ahlia had taught him back in Whitestone. The firbolg just smiles and says in a deep rumbling tone,

“Say, friend, what do you think? A name for our group?”

The rest of the group’s eyes snap up to him and Caleb straightens automatically. Muscle memory from being under the focus of the council.

“Um, the Mighty Nein,” Caleb says, blurting out the first thing in his head.

“There are only seven of us,” points out the human woman in blue, scowling.

“Ach, no, it is a Zemnian word. It means no, rather than, well, the number nine.” For the first time in a while, Caleb is aware of his accent. It has softened, living in Whitestone this long, but still, there is the rough way his voice mangles certain sounds. The purple tiefling grins from his space lazed across the pale woman.

“The Mighty Nein?” he repeats back, his own lilting accent making the words seem warm and easy. “Honestly, I like it. I like you. What’s your name, dear?”

“I’m Caleb, Caleb de Rolo,” Caleb replies, smiling a little. He is grateful that no inklings of recognition cross their faces at his last name. Not something he wants to explain right now. “And I believe you are going to be the Mighty Nein?”

“I like it too!” This is from the goblin woman, who is beaming up at him with too many teeth. The rest of the party seem to agree, muttering and nodding along.

“Come and sit, have a drink with us,” says the purple tiefling, straightening himself up. “I’m Mollymauk, but you can call me Molly.” His smile is flirtatious and playful, but also fairly patient. Caleb nods, smiling a little as he moves to come and sit beside them. The introductions to the rest of the party are messy and confusing, but Caleb gets them.

“So,” Jester, the blue tiefling, says. “What are you doing in Nicodranas?”

“Oh, just visiting,” Caleb says easily. “I’m from Tal’Dorei, so I’m travelling a little. I’ve been to Port Damali as well.”

“Isn’t it lovely?” Jester says excitedly. “I’m from here.”

“And I grew up in Port Damali,” Fjord says easily, taking a long drink from his ale. “Did you like it?”

“I did,” Caleb says, letting himself relax. “It was lovely.” Beauregard, the human woman in blue, is glowering at him. She doesn’t seem to like him at all. Caduceus and Mollymauk are wearing similar expressions of mild amusement and intrigue whilst Nott is almost in awe.

“You are from Tal’Dorei?” Yasha asks, sounding mildly confused. “I do not know where this is.”

“Oh, well, I have lived there for a period of my life.” Caleb doesn’t really want to talk to these complete strangers about the complex and confusing pulls of fate which have led him to this place. “It is west of here, a whole other continent.”

“And you’re just… travelling?” asks Beauregard, snidely. Caleb tugs nervously on the lapels of his navy-blue coat. Percy had insisted he take it.

“Yes. It felt like something I needed to do.” Beau mutters something which sounds an awful lot like rich prick under her breath and Caleb can feel the heat rise in his cheeks. He doesn’t want to challenge her on it, doesn’t want to address that too much, but it does sting. What with the years spent in the role of Sophist of Native Ingenuity, he has managed to make enough money for himself to pay for anything, especially as Mum and Dad refuse to take any money for living with them in Whitestone Castle.

“Travelling is good for you!” Mollymauk crows, lazily dangerously back on his chair. “It’s why we’re all here together, isn’t it?” The grin he throws Caleb is playful and Caleb manages to return it. The rest of the group grumble in agreement, before settling into quiet for barely a moment.

“Say, Caleb,” Nott pipes up. “You look like you know a thing or too and you have a spell book on you.” Caleb blinks, touching the leather-bound book in the holsters which he had fashioned for himself.

“Uh, I do, yes.” Nott’s eyesight is certainly good.

“Are you a wizard?” she asks and Caleb merely nods.

“Oh, wait, that is so good!” Jester trills and hefts a bright pink haversack on to the table. “Can you look at some magical items for us?”

“We’ll buy you a few drinks for it, obviously,” Fjord says quickly, glancing over at Jester.

Perhaps, if Caleb’s lucky and uses his silvered tongue correctly, he might be able to gain himself some companions here.

“Nein, nein. I shall have a look, of course.” He pulls out the spell book which Percy got him, flicking it open to the Identify spell. Jester grins, immediately beginning to pull magical items from the haversack and Caleb begins to Identify them.

Mollymauk Tealeaf likes Caleb de Rolo.

The little group of them have only just got to Nicodranas and were intent on getting a drink before going to meet up with Jester’s mother in the Lavish Chateau. They had been arguing, as they are wont to do, about naming the group. It’s been a point of contention for a few weeks now, without any success. Then, Caduceus asks this fancy guy out of nowhere and he comes up with The Mighty Nein.

Caleb is pretty, there is no denying that. His copper hair is well-tended to, tugged back into a bun and his blue eyes glitter like the sky on the brightest day. It’s clear that he has money too; the navy coat he wears is trimmed with gold, elaborate and well-made. Underneath, his pale grey tunic is finely made, likely warmer than it looks and Mollymauk would kill for boots as well made as those. His accent is a wonderful mixture of high-class pronunciation and a thick guttural accent which melts his vowels together.

But Caleb smiles easily and indulges their questions. He’s charming and easy to talk to. Molly knows that Beauregard likely hates him on the principle that he is a person with some wealth and thus feels like she should challenge his authority. Honestly, Mollymauk enjoys his company.

He’s ready to just class him as a friend without question as he sits there Identifying the items that they had found without judgement (the manacles that had held Yasha, Fjord and Jester, the dodecahedron that they had taken from the Krynn warrior mainly as well as other trinkets).

And then, as they are wont to do with the Mighty Nein(?), things go to hell.

Nott has wandered off to pick-pocket someone, who clearly was paying attention to her. And in seconds, she’s in trouble, with several burly looking men with weapons drawn at the goblin.

“Hey, hey, let’s all calm down,” Fjord tries, moving to step over to her, but the men only sneer at him, cold and sharp.

“What are you going to do, half-breed?” Mollymauk can see Fjord tense. He knows how difficult Fjord has found things because of his race and this is no different. Molly’s hands are drifting to his swords, ready to scare these guys off with a flash of radiant energy when Caleb stands up from the table beside him.

“Gentlemen,” he says, and his voice is as smooth as silk, dripping with charm. “How about you all just let this go and me and my friends will not bother you?” Mollymauk watches as Caleb completes the somatic motions for a spell, quickly and discreetly.

And the three men slump, smiling easily.

“Oh, of course, no worries!” the one Nott had failed to pickpocket says.

“Have a good evening now!” says another cheerily. Caleb turns back to the party with a brief smile.

“Now, that will only last an hour, so I suggest we make ourselves scarce fairly quickly?”

And Molly decides he likes Caleb de Rolo a lot.

The Mighty Nein hurry out on to the streets of Nicodranas and whilst he can hear Beau grumbling about how ‘they had that under control’ the others seem very happy.

“Thank you, Caleb!” Nott says, smiling up at him. “Not many people would stand up for a goblin like me!”

“Yeah, really good use of a charm!” Jester says excitedly as she begins to lead them down the roads towards The Lavish Chateau.

“You really didn’t have to help us and you did, so thanks,” Fjord says, still a little gruff from the insults slung his way.

“Say,” Caduceus rumbles. “You’re looking for adventure, aren’t you?” Caleb blinks, a little overwhelmed by everything and Mollymauk notices his hand touch a small pendant around his neck. It appears to be a somewhat nervous tick, like he doesn't know he's doing it.

“I am,” Caleb says, slightly guarded.

“You could come with us!” Jester is the one to suggest it, but Molly is thinking it just as much.

“We could use some arcane knowledge,” Molly says. “Most of us don’t know shit about magic.” Beau grumbles at that, but she doesn’t argue. Caleb’s face lights up.

“You would let me come with?”

“I think you would only be helpful to us, and us to you,” Caduceus says in that very oddly insightful way he has.

“Besides, we’ve got some cool things to follow up on and detective work to do that you can help with!” Nott says and Caleb laughs a little.

“I would like to help, if I can. It would be nice.”

“Then, I suppose,” Mollymauk says. “Welcome to the Mighty Nein, Caleb de Rolo.”

Chapter Text

Hey everyone, thank you all so much for reading this fic and keeping up with it!

I owe you all an apology for the truly extensive gap in updates and I can only say sorry. I'm currently sitting final exams (yes, in the middle of a pandemic, do not ask why my university hates me) and funnily enough, the state of the world combined with this has led to some pretty terrible mental health. I'm doing okay, just very fatigued which has led to a complete stop in me doing things like writing which I enjoy so much. 

My finals will be over next week and I am hoping and praying to be able find my muse and continue with our lovely Caleb de Rolo. 

But until then, I love you all so much for reading this fic that has completely gotten away with me. 

Remember, Black Lives Matter, Stay strong, stay safe and as Brian always says, don't forget to love each other. 

Chapter Text

The Mighty Nein are an experience. Within a few days of knowing them Caleb has been roped into some crazy schemes which did include accidentally stealing a boat and becoming pirates.

“Are Mummy and Daddy going to be disappointed?” Beauregard hisses snidely at Caleb as they scramble to sail the Mist out of port, with their newfound crew.

“What, at me stealing a boat?” Caleb blinks. Beauregard definitely has not warmed up to him at all, despite his best attempts to be kind.

“I mean, you’re a rich bastard, you have to have rich parents who are not going to be happy about you stealing a boat.” Caleb blinks. In all honesty, he hadn’t considered it until now.

“Why is this relevant?” Caleb asks, gently petting Frumpkin as he stares out over the sea. Beau just huffs and heads off.

“Don’t worry about her,” says a quiet, shrill voice. Nott. “She’s just… She’s got issues with authority and you’ve got money.”

“Things are more complicated than that,” Caleb sighs, petting Frumpkin’s head gently. “But they always are, aren’t they?” Nott nods, staring out over the sea.

“Look, um, Caleb, can I ask you a favour? It’s a fairly personal thing, but I need the assistance of a wizard.” Caleb turns to her, frowning a little.

“Of course. If I can help in anyway, Nott, I will.” Nott opens her mouth and goes to speak when one of their new crew comes past and she freezes.

“Ah, later. I’ll tell you in private.” And Nott scuttles off, leaving Caleb to stare out over the seas.

Honestly, this is not at all what he was expecting when he left Whitestone. He had expected some adventure, but not necessarily impromptu piracy. Caleb can’t stop thinking about how jealous this tale is going to make Percy. He always talked about how Scanlan and himself wanted to steal and airship or a boat, just for the fun of it. And now, Caleb has managed just that. It’s still an odd experience, just dealing with his new friends at all.

“Feeling a little out of place?” comes the deep rumble of Caduceus and Caleb looks up.

“Oh, ja.” He toys with his hair, tied back with the blue ribbon that Vesper had given him a few months before he left. “Just, well, I am used to chaos; I have five younger siblings. But this? This is new.” The cleric smiles, nodding a little.

“Yes, I understand that. I too come from a big family, but the Mighty Nein are a lot more than I was expecting. Thought your name has stuck, it appears.”

“Aha, ja,” Caleb rolls his eyes a little. “I was not expecting it to be so popular.”

“We had fought about it a lot. It was a point of contention.” Caduceus grins, his smile long and slow.

“It definitely appeared to be. It reminded me of the stories my father had told me of his own adventuring group. They changed their name because they had gotten involved with kings and the like, so The S.H.I.T.S wasn’t exactly appropriate.” Caduceus barks out a laugh, surprised.

“Well, that is certainly a name.”

“They are an interesting bunch, my family,” Caleb murmurs, more to himself than to Caduceus. He misses them, though he is very excited to be out on the sea, enjoying these new experiences.

“Family often are,” Caduceus replies, but doesn’t push, doesn’t ask anything else of him. Caleb appreciates this, because honestly, his own familial situation is so complex he doesn’t want to explain it all. They stand quietly side by side for a moment, just appreciating each other's presence. 

But Caleb is curious as to why Nott needs the assistance of a wizard and how he can help. He should go speak with her.

“I am sorry, Caduceus,” Caleb says graciously. “I think Nott wishes to speak with me. I will see you later.” Caduceus merely nods and Caleb heads off, searching for the goblin woman down in the depths of the ship. Nott isn't hard to find, shuffling around in one of the smaller bunk rooms. As he pokes his head in, Nott perks up.

"Oh, hi Caleb. Uh, you want to have that talk now?"

"If that is okay with you?" he asks, moving into the room. She nods, pacing a little before hopping on to a bunk.

"Yeah, yeah, that's fine!"

“How can I help you, Nott?” Caleb asks quietly as they both sit down.

“I… I need to change my body.” Falteringly, slowly, Nott explains some things. She explains that she feels like she is not meant to be a goblin, that she wants to change it. She doesn’t explain why or how she knows but Caleb is not one to pry. That would be awfully hypocritical of him.

“Mm,” he says quietly after Nott has finished speaking. “I see. Well, I am afraid I don’t know of a spell that will be able to do that for you permanently, but I have a few friends who are much more powerful wizards than I. They may know? Would it be okay for me to speak with them?” Nott shuffles on the bed beside him but nods.

“Yeah, just don’t tell them the specifics.” Caleb gently wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Thanks, Caleb. You’re, you’re a really good guy, you know. I mean, you haven’t know me for very long and yet…”

“I want to help,” Caleb says firmly. “I… The man who taught me how to love magic again always emphasised how it can be used to help and to heal and to delight. And I live by those tenants.” Nott gives him a grin, her sharp teeth glinting in the low light.

“You do great. Is that why you’re out here, away from home and everything? To help people?”

“Yes,” Caleb replies, smiling faintly. “I suppose it is.”

Caleb writes to Allura and Gilmore the next day, asking about spells that discuss true physical transformation. He slips the letters into his bag, promising to get them delivered as soon as they hit land again. But for now, they are travelling through the ocean to meet this Captain Avantika who hold some information about the thing giving Fjord powers.

Caleb recognises those powers.

After the birth of Jo and her clearly tiefling form, Percy had spoken more about his deal with Orthax and the power granted to him by that. Fjord’s powers appear to be very similar to this.

That worries him. Fjord too seems fearful of the power granted to him, though it doesn’t quite appear to be as dark as what Percival had described, just yet.

Caleb doesn’t want to press Fjord about it yet. He hasn’t know them long enough.

He likes them though. All of them, despite Beauregard’s lack of trust for him because of his appearance and the little she has gleaned about his life.

Mollymauk seems like a handful, bright and excitable, though driven by a similar desire to do good things as Caleb.

Yasha is quiet, a peaceful companion when Caleb is reading.

Caduceus is a calming presence, though he has a quiet sorrow and panic that Caleb recognises instantly from Keyleth.

Jester is naïve and playful, innocent in a way which makes her a force to be reckoned with.

Nott is kind and trusting, though her alcoholism is certainly something that Caleb can understand from Scanlan instantly.

Fjord is much more proficient than he gives himself credit for, but the half-orc’s humility is also reassuring, in face of the power that he has been gifted.

And Beauregard is standoffish and cold, clearly attempting to pick fights as consistently as possible. Caleb mainly ignores her when she gets like that.

Caleb is speaking quietly over breakfast with Nott, talking about the spell components and their costs, discussing the higher prices for spells like revivify or greater restoration, when Beauregard hisses snidely from across the table.

“Well, I’m sure Mummy and Daddy can pay for all that for you.” It’s the third time in as many days that she has made a comment like this and Caleb has had enough. He glances up, eyes sharp but demeanour calm. He had been a diplomat for too many years to rise to the bait.

“Beauregard, is there something you wish to say regarding my family, whom you know nothing about?” Beauregard’s eyes widen and she stiffens up.

“Well, not all of us are lucky enough to have parents who are willing to pay for shit like that,” she mutters, gesturing to Caleb’s coat.

“This is not about wealth,” Caleb replies calmly, adjusting his collar. “Jester’s mother has significant wealth and yet, you do not treat her like this.” Beau flushes, embarrassed by Caleb’s calm accuracy. “Do you have a problem with me?” Caduceus, who is watching this, clears his throat ever so slightly and Caleb backs down, letting Beau flee the table without looking back.

“She’ll warm up to you eventually,” Nott sighs, offering Caleb some of the bread from her plate which he takes easily.

“I hope so. I don’t want to cause any issues in the group.”

“She just doesn’t like change,” Caduceus rumbles, sliding some more food on to Caleb’s plate. “She’ll come round.”

Caleb de Rolo is a little bit of an enigma to Fjord. It’s clear from his dress and his speech that he is well-off. He mentions his family in passing, talks of his five younger siblings, though he doesn’t speak of his parents very much. Honestly, Fjord just appreciates the fact that he is quick, insightful and charming. Caleb is certainly an asset to their team.

It only becomes clearer when they join up with Avantika and search more insistently for the keys to Uko’toa. Whilst dealing with the yuan-ti as they traverse the small islands of the Lucidian Ocean, Caleb’s spells give Mollymauk such a boost that the tiefling is barely visible as he fights, his glowing scimitars making short work of their enemy. The lightning that jumps from Caleb’s fingertips is controlled and powerful in a way that Fjord was not expecting and the ability to Identify artifacts before they just start using them is definitely one he is very glad for.

But Beau hates him.

“What is it that you don’t like?” Fjord asks her one night on Avantika’s ship, after the rest of the Mighty Nein are asleep. “About Caleb?” It had been a long day but Caleb had proved he was well worth his salt again after the fight getting off the island with the yuan-ti. Beau sighs, tugging on the band that currently holds her hair up.

“I dunno. Guess I’ve met his type before. Rich kids just looking for some bullshit adventure on Mummy and Daddy’s money. He doesn’t have any pain behind him.” Fjord sighs a little.

“Beau, he never talks about his parents. They could be dead for all you know. Besides, Jester is like that and you love her.”

“That’s what he said.”

“And he’s right. Beau, you just hate him because he’s new to the group. The guy is clever and kind. Nott and Molly love him, he’s even winning Yasha and Cad round pretty quickly.”

“What about you?” she asks sharply. Fjord sighs.

“Sure, maybe he has had an easier life than you and me. But that doesn’t mean I dislike him. He is too kind for that.” Beau grumbles but doesn’t disagree. “Honestly, you just hate that he has had it easy and you barely know the guy. C’mon, save your judgement huh?”

“Fine, fine…”

Fjord is reminded of that conversation now. He watches as the wizard’s eyes glaze over, fear and loss so clear in his face as The Squall-Eater and its crew burn under his own fire. Caleb doesn’t speak, doesn’t resist, appears completely stunned as the rest of the Mighty Nein are arrested by the guards of Darktow.

He barely even flinches when the Plank King snaps Avantika’s neck for her treachery.

Mollymauk has to quietly support Caleb on to the Squall-Eater as the Mighty Nein flee Darktow and he slowly comes round as the pirate island fades into the distance. He had been completely non-verbal, barely responsive aside from physical prompts to get him to move, for a good hour.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Beau asks immediately when Caleb begins to move again.

“I,” he starts and Fjord notices that the thick accent which mangles some of his words is stronger than usual.

“Beau!” hisses Nott protectively but Caleb waves a hand.

“It is fine, Nott, spatzi. I am sorry, I didn’t…” Caleb inhales, glancing around at the rest of the Mighty Nein. They should be doing things, have previously moved to help with sailing the ship but as soon as Caleb started to show signs of movement again, everyone was transfixed. Mainly out of worry, Fjord thinks.

“You don’t have to talk, Caleb,” Fjord says coolly, from his spot behind the ship's wheel. “Though, we’d be mighty interested if you do want to.”

“You deserve some explanation. It may happen again.” Caleb stands, brushing the soot off his blue coat. “I do not commonly use fire magic for that reason because…” he trails off, inhales sharply and then fixes Beau with a fierce stare. “Because it was responsible for the death of my parents.” He doesn’t elaborate but no one asks him to. Beau can’t meet his gaze. His accent is still thicker than usual, less guarded and more panicked.

“Caleb,” Molly starts, but its clear the tiefling doesn’t have anything he can say to help.

“If I become non-verbal again, I respond better to Celestial or Elvish than Common.” Caleb says, with the clinical detachment of someone who is used to this.

“I speak Celestial,” Yasha rumbles quietly and gives Caleb a small smile. “I can help.” Nott throws herself at Caleb’s legs, clinging and he gently pets her hair, reassuringly.

“Thank you for not asking more. I am not sure I am ready to tell you.”

“We won’t pry,” Caduceus says, glancing pointedly at Beau who nods, sheepishly. Jester smiles reassuringly at Caleb who looks very grateful. “I’m going to make some tea now. Mollymauk, Jester, would you help?” The tieflings nod quickly and the three of them head below decks. Yasha gives Caleb one more nod before heading off herself. Fjord thinks that this conversation is over when Beau speaks.

“Look, uh, dude, I’m sorry,” Beau mutters and Caleb blinks at her. “I’ve been a dick. Mainly because I thought, like, you’d had it easy or something. Shouldn’t have judged you so quickly.” The wizard considers her for a second before holding out his hand.

“It is okay, Beauregard. We can start over.” She takes his hand and shakes, just the edge of a smile on her face.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Hey, I’m Beau.”

“Ah, hallo, Beau. I am Caleb.”

Finally, Fjord thinks privately as he steers the boat out into that deep blue horizon. A functioning team, at least for now.

Chapter Text

They can’t stay on the seas forever, as much as Fjord would like to. After releasing second seal, he knows that staying on the seas is possibly more dangerous than he would like. Nott had been fairly insistent on them returning to Felderwin after hearing about the attack on her home from the Kryn Dynasty. The journey back, as far as things go, is not particularly eventful, aside from the small interaction with another ship.

And then, just before they reach Nicodranas, Caleb comes up to him.

The wizard is tidy as usual, his long red hair tied back with the rich blue ribbon that Fjord has seen a couple of times.

“Caleb?” Fjord says, confused as to what he wants. Caleb is rubbing at the wound on his palm, the one which matches Fjord’s. The first moment that Fjord had felt that Caleb truly let go and was somewhat chaotic.

“How are you doing, Fjord?” Caleb asks, folding his arms across his chest, clearly aware that he is toying with the cut.

“I’m fine, why do you ask?” Fjord feels very much that this is a leading question, especially as Caleb appears to have specifically chosen the moment that no other members of the Mighty Nein are around right now.

“Are you? After everything with Uko’toa? And the releasing of the seals?” Fjord blanches. This wasn’t what something that he had expected Caleb to discuss with him. Well, it wasn’t something that he wanted to discuss with anyone, least of all their newest member. Caleb is not making eye contact with him, in that way he does where he looks just beyond you, so as to not look intimidating.

“I, uh…” Fjord chokes on his words and for a second, bright blue eyes meet his own.

“I have heard of things like this before,” Caleb explains and his hand goes to his neck. A nervous tick, fiddling with the gold necklace that lies over his tunic. Fjord had noticed it when they first met. “They can be very dangerous and… all-consuming.” There is a weight to Caleb’s words that makes Fjord pause.

“Did you, have you done something like this?” He gestures vaguely to himself and then the sea, implying the pact he has inadvertently made.

“Nein, nein,” Caleb moves to stand beside Fjord, looking out over the waves. “My father did. Long before he knew me but still. He still says it was one of the worst decisions he ever made.” Fjord shoots Caleb a side glance, surprised. It is so rare for Caleb to talk about his parents.

And then the odd tenses click.

“Uh, he says it was one of the worst decisions? I, uh, I thought your parents were, um, had passed away.” He stumbles a little, trying not to bring up the revelation of Caleb’s parricidal past.

“Oh, my adoptive father,” Caleb clarifies. “The one who’s name I hold. But that is not relevant; how are you feeling about this?” Fjord blinks, trying to rework his own feelings about Caleb being adopted and his answer to the questions. He can’t ignore the sting of jealousy, thinking about Caleb having multiple loving families, compared to the orphanage where he grew up.

“I don’t know,” he manages to reply, truthfully, a moment later. “I’m scared, I think. I know that Uk’otoa is likely terrible for me, and I cannot release him. It, it barely crossed my mind to do so.” The last bit is a lie. Fjord had laid awake for several nights, staring at the wood of the cabin, thinking about it. But he knows he could never bring himself to do it. “But without this…” He summons the falchion for a second, to punctuate his words. “I’m nothing.”

“I know that feeling.” Caleb is still not looking at him directly. “I couldn’t use magic for a while after I killed my parents. I was so terrified and I felt so helpless. But there were other things that I could do. And I learnt new magic, better magic for myself.”

Yes, Fjord thinks bitterly; but you still had magic.

But he just nods, staring out over the Lucidian Ocean with a sigh.

“Maybe you’re right? I’m just not sure I’m ready to do anything yet.” And Caleb lets him end the conversation there.

Yussa Errenis is a breakthrough.

Caleb had been so interested in the object that Twiggy had brought to them, so coined the Happy Fun Ball. The name made him smile. The Mighty Nein certainly had a habit of naming things somewhat oddly.

But when they returned to Nicodranas and had managed to worm their way into the good books of the reclusive wizard there, Caleb was thrilled. Yussa is quiet, closed off, but willing to give Caleb the benefit of the doubt, especially after his silver-tongue had done most of the work for him.

“Mr de Rolo,” Yussa calls as they turn to leave. Caleb turns, one eyebrow raised. “Prove yourself to me and I will be happy to work with you.” Caleb’s smile is soft, reassuring as he bows slightly.

“I shall endeavour to do so, Herr Errenis.”

He knows he can. It is just a matter of proving it.

The trip to Felderwin is mostly peaceful, but the experiences of the town are anything but. Nott has told Caleb in brief snippets that there was a halfling man who she cared for who lived there.

But when they arrive and Caleb sees Vess DeRogna, he has to fight very hard not to have a panic attack.

“Caleb, inkling, breathe with me. In for 6, hold for 4, out for 6.”

He can hear Vex’ahlia’s voice in the back of his mind, remembering her ways of talking him through a panic attack. He is trying his best not to lose control in front of the rest of the Mighty Nein; they have enough to deal with right now with Nott. 

He doesn’t miss the sidelong glances Mollymauk gives him as he breathes slowly, deliberately. He hadn’t mentioned the involvement between himself and the Soltryce Academy. There had been no reason to, when he gave the brief explanation after his most recent flashback. 

They follow Nott through the streets and there is a flash of pride when she casts Disguise Self, a spell Caleb had taken a lot of time helping her to learn. Her form is unfamiliar, a chubby brown-skinned halfling and she knocks on the door of the woman who apparently was housing her lost friend's son.

"Edith, it's me. Where's my son?"

And that's when it clicks for Caleb. Yeza was more than just Nott's friend. This boy is her own child. Met with this halfling form, Luc looks a lot like her. 

Guilt sinks to the bottom of his stomach like a stone. Caleb hasn't been connected to the Cereberus Assembly in so long, but he knows what they are capable of. He knows their tactics. 

As they walk away from Old Edith's house, the tone is subdued and Caleb knows he has to come clean.

"I'm sorry," he starts and suddenly there are seven sets of eyes on him. "I, there is something I should tell you." Slowly, but less falteringly than any time before he has told this tale, Caleb explains. He tells them of Blumenthal, of Trent, of Astrid and Eadowulf. He tells them of the Soltyrce Academy and the Voltstruckers. He explains how he recognised Vess DeRogna. He tells them his name.

He is trembling slightly when he's done, clutching the symbol of Pelor around his neck so tightly it leaves marks on his palm.

"Your, your people did this? To my people?" Nott sounds both furious and incredulous.

"No! Nein," Caleb says immediately. "They are not my people. They will never be my people. Trent is dead, I am Caleb de Rolo now. I'm not Bren and I never will be."

"Thank you for telling us, Caleb," says Caduceus in the low rumble he uses to split up an argument. "We need to decide what to do next."

Mollymauk is giving him sidelong glances but as the party dissolves into conversation, he nudges Caleb and murmurs,

"From one changed man to another, you're not Bren anymore. No more than I am Lucien." The wizard gives him a small smile, trying not to let on how much that had loosened the knot in his chest.

The travel to Xhorhas is uncomfortable. The tunnel is long and monotonous. But, they make it. They make it all the way through Xhorhas, through the Asarius, all the way to Rosohna. 

And there they stand, in front of the Bright Queen. 

Caleb has The Beacon; he had been researching it in their idle down time. And now, as they are forced to their knees, exposed as spies or infiltrators, he acts.

He steps forward, drawing himself up to his full height.

"I am of the empire." He takes the Beacon from his Bag of Holding, holding it upright. "But I am no friend of the empire. I am Lord Caleb de Rolo, Sophist of Native Ingenuity, of Whitestone. I have recognised the cancer at the heart of the Empire, and I will fight to remove it."

The Bright Queen stares her eyes welling with tears. 

“You, you have brought hope to our people.” Caleb steps forward, offering the Bright Queen the beacon. He doesn’t fail to notice the bristling of the guards around him,

“Your Majesty,” he says, quietly. “We are not spies, or infiltrators. We merely want to see an end to this awful war. It has taken too many lives, on both sides of this conflict.” His voice is warm, playing on the years he spent as a diplomat to give him the edge. “I do not wish to harm you, nor your dynasty. I only wish for my friend to be able to see her husband, to help you finally bring an end to this gods-forsaken war.” As he speaks, Caleb steps to the foot of the throne and kneels, holding out the Beacon to the Bright Queen. “I am a wizard and a diplomat. I know that this artefact is incredibly powerful, and I understand it is essential to your culture. I would never wish to part you from it.” As he kneels, the Bright Queen steps forward and takes the Beacon from him. Caleb keeps his head down, reverent in his body language.

“Release them.” The Bright Queen’s voice is calm but unyielding. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the guards who had approached his friends stepping away. “All of you, approach.” She waves a hand and Caleb stands, keeping his head bowed. A moment later, Mollymauk and Fjord flank him, their heads similarly bowed. “You are heroes of the Dynasty. You have brought back an artefact that means more to us than we can explain.” She inclines her head in a bow and Caleb can hear the other members of the Mighty Nein getting restless, unsure what to do in this situation.

“You honour us, your Majesty,” Caleb says, threading a tone of sternness into his voice, to quieten his party members.

“Shadowhand Thelyss!” She calls and a young, attractive drow man comes forward, bowing his head to hear.

“My Queen.”

“Please, I ask you to steward our new heroes. Take them to the Dungeon of Penance, so they may be reunited with the halfling man.”

The drow looks over them all with a piercing stare and it would worry Caleb had he not seen it so many times before. This is the look of a man who is trying to prove his power, his stature, his knowledge. Caleb smiles, a reassuring quirk of the lips and it delights him slightly to see a flush to the drow’s cheeks.

“Yes, My Queen.”

And with that, their audience is over. They are escorted from the chamber and onwards.

“You’re a lord?” Mollymauk murmurs as they head out of the chamber. Caleb can feel his ears turn scarlet.

“Ah, yes? I, I don’t really use the title at all, but it was kind of a formality a few years ago when, uh…” He stumbles, thinking back to Percy’s untimely death that Pike had undone. Percival had come to him a few days later, mumbling something about making sure he was prepared if things went wrong again. Caleb had officially been named the next de Rolo then, given the title as a formality.

“When my father had a near-death experience,” Caleb finishes, awkwardly and the tiefling gives a kind grin.

“Honestly, Mr Caleb, I continue to learn new things about you all the time.” Caleb’s smile is small and a little reassuring.

“I have had as an interesting a life as you, Mollymauk Tealeaf.” And that makes the tiefling smile.

The reunion between Nott and Yeza is overwhelming in the best way, bringing tears to Caleb’s eyes, as he vows to work harder on returning his friend to her own body. She apologises, afterwards, in her own little way. A message on a wire, as they walk out.

"I'm sorry for before. I was scared. But I was wrong."

"You do not have to apologise, Nott the Brave. But I have already forgiven you."

And the grin she turns back to give him is worth it all.

As they head to the tavern where they shall be staying for the evening, Caleb puts his silver tongue back to work making friends.

“Shadowhand Theylss?”

“Ah, yes, Lord de Rolo?” Caleb laughs, his cheeks flushing.

“Oh gods, please, Caleb will be just fine. Lord de Rolo makes me sound so much like my father.”

“Ah, Caleb, it is. I suppose if we are on a first name basis, Essek will be quite alright.” The drow gives a curt nod to Caleb’s tentative smile.

“Essek it is then. I wanted to ask you, you are a mage yourself, no?”

“I am?” Essek’s voice is guarded, cautious.

“Your magic is very fascinating, the control of time and space that is shown here is, interesting to me.” Caleb tries to tamper his excitement, understanding that that would not be most welcome with Essek. “Would it be possible for you to teach me some of this?”

Essek gives him a very shrewd look, but Caleb can see the slightly blue tinge to his eartips. He likes Essek, he really does. He is attractive, sharp in a way that reminds Caleb of Astrid.

“Show me what you can do.”

Caleb takes a moment to think and then twists his fingertips, creating a huge amber cat paw, slowly moving around. Essek pauses, looking over it, trying not to look impressed, but he has a minor tick. His left ear twitches.

“I see. Okay, Caleb. I, I think perhaps I can teach you.”

Caleb’s smile grows, gentle and warm and he can’t help but notice the flush in Essek’s cheeks.

“I would like that very much, Essek.”

Chapter Text

The return trip from Bazzoxan is tense, quiet. The loss of Yasha has the whole party unable to bring themselves to say anything.

Caleb keeps sending Mollymauk sidelong glances as the tiefling stares abjectly forward, unseeing as they head back through the streets of Rosohna. He hopes that in time Molly will forgive him.

Yasha storms towards them, her mouth stretched into that unnatural grin and Jester is crying.

“Yasha! No!”

Mollymauk is badly hurt, coughing up blood from what looks like a damaged lung. Fjord is trying to drag him back, out of the chamber, but the bloodhunter won’t go.

“Yasha!” he begs, dropping one scimitar to reach out to her. “Yasha, come back to us, please! It’s me! It’s your Mollymauk!”

“We have to go!” Beauregard is supporting Caduceus’s lanky frame as she backs out of the room. Nott is already gone, waving them through the open door. Caleb is inches from Molly and Yasha as she takes a swipe at the purple tiefling.

“Don’t you recognise your Mollymauk?” he whispers, clutching at the wound. Caleb glances around. Beau, Nott, Fjord and Caduceus are already through the door, leaving just Molly, Jester and himself inside.

“Entschuldigung, Mollymauk, forgive me,” he mutters under his breath and throws a hand out, the iron wire in his hand humming. Immediately, the bloodhunter’s whole body stiffens up.

“Jester! Let’s go!” Caleb yells and thanks all the gods that the cleric understands his plan. Still in tears, she grabs Mollymauk and drags him along with her. Caleb makes it out first, as Fjord and Beau jump to close the doors.

“Yasha!” Jester stops as soon as she gets through the door, reaching out for her as the doors as slammed and locked by Nott.

“We need to go,” repeats Beau quietly as Caleb releases the spell on Mollymauk. There is a heavy bang on the door and they all start running.

Mollymauk hasn’t spoken to him since. Caleb can understand why, but he doesn’t regret his decision. Saving his life was more important. It will always be more important.

Reuniting Yeza with Luc makes Caleb long to see his family again. He misses Vax with a fierce ache, misses the chaos of Whitestone Castle. He wonders, briefly, if his letters have made it home. He doesn’t exactly have a permanent address currently, so if his parents or siblings had written back, he is unsure where it would have been sent.

He didn’t give them somewhere to write to.

That night, after the drama of the Kravaraad volcano and the gentle banter he shared with Essek, Caleb takes out his notebook and quill, beginning a new letter to his father. He tells Percival of Rosohna, of the issues with the Kryn Dynasty, of Essek, of Yussa. He tells him about Fjord and Uko’toa, of Yasha and the Angel of Irons.

I wish you were here, Dad. I feel like you’d be able to help. I’m trying to do as you did! Trying to fix these people with patience, but it feels so impossible.

Did I ever feel like that, when you were trying to help?

Please write back. I have a more permanent address now, so I will be able to write back when I can.

He signs the letter off and tucks it into his pocket, to remind himself to send it when they reach Uthodurn.

He misses Fjord waking up by moments.

But he notices immediately in the morning. Fjord’s accent, as distinctly false as Caleb had suspected it to be, is gone. As the half-orc explains what had happened, shows them his lack of powers, Caleb pauses.

“Jester, where is that axe?” He hands Fjord the axe and then, once he had hung it on his belt, grasps his forearm. “You are more than what he gave to you, Fjord. He cannot take away these friendships you have created. And we care about you, not your magic.” Fjord stops, his eyes wide, surprised by the honesty in Caleb’s voice. There are murmurs of agreement from the rest of the group, nods and such.

“Thank, thank you, Caleb.” Caleb nods, releases him and then says,

“You are much better off without him.”

“I agree,” rumbles Caduceus, giving Fjord a stern once over. The half-orc nods, clearly surprised by the support and mumbles another thanks before he shuffles away, to start their journey down to Uthodurn.

Reani is… somewhat unexpected. Her vicious optimism reminds Caleb of Jo a lot, though her militant ideas about right or wrong are somewhat concerning, considering the past of every member of this party. Caleb thinks he does well at convincing her not to dig too deeply into their pasts and their mistakes.

Gelidon is a mistake.

Caleb doesn’t think he’s ever been so terrified that his spell would fail as they cower beneath the dome. It’s meant to protect them yes, but he’s not sure it will hold up against an ancient dragon. His hands shake as he scrawls the runes for Teleportation Circle, praying that he will have just enough time to finish it before Gelidon can work out how to break through.

Reappearing in Uthodurn was possibly the second most relieving moment in his life, aside from watching Percy breathe again. The mood is joyous and vibrant as they travel back to Kravaraad with Umagorn and Reani in tow. Caleb keeps thinking of the slightly worried smile than Essek had given him before teleporting them to Mythburrow. Despite all his cold airs, he really does care for them.

Umagorn works through the night, disturbing Caleb consistently throughout it. He doesn’t mind really. And the next morning comes, with Fjord nowhere to be seen.

When they find him, in the snow, blessed with new magic, Caleb is thrilled. As his form shifts into a larger version of Nott, Caleb yells and laughs along with the rest of them. It is so good to see Fjord look comfortable using his magic. And then, with the Star Grazer given to him, Fjord looks so much happier than Caleb has seen before.

He smiles, thinking about what he had written to his father.

Maybe it would be okay, no matter what Caleb did. After all, they are all supporting each other.

When they return to Rosohna, Essek gives them the information that Caleb will be allowed to speak with the imprisoned Volstrucker.

“She is slated for execution soon,” says the Shadowhand calmly. “But I have managed to secure you an audience before that.”

“Danke, Essek,” Caleb says, toying with his pendant nervously. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

He is so nervous that he barely pays attention to the odd spatial and temporal magic of the Dungeon of Penance. It has been so long since he has seen another Volstrucker, he is unsure of how to react to them, how to respond to them. But it is somewhat unlikely that he will be recognisable, considering how much has changed.

She isn’t someone he knows. This, he already knew, but talking to her is another thing.

He steps inside and she looks up at him, eyes full of venom.

“Hallo, schwester.” He sits cross-legged from her, looking her up and down. “What are you doing all the way out here?” He sticks to Zemnian, an attempt to encourage some sort of conversation from her. She tilts her head, eyeing him up and down.

“You’re Ikithon’s lost sheep. Ermendrud, wasn’t it?”

“Who took over from Master Ikithon? Are his practices being continued?”

“Of course they are,” she hisses but Caleb knows she is lying. She doesn’t quite meet his eyes as she says it. “Do you think that it wouldn’t be?”

“Who took over?” Caleb asks again, quietly. She tosses her head and bares her teeth at him in a poor facsimile of a smile.

“Come back into the fold properly, Ermendrud and I’ll tell you.” Caleb smiles, thin, wan.

“There is no fold anymore, sister. I know that as well as you. Would it hurt you to know, that some of the people you have killed were completely and utterly innocent?”

“You and I trained under the same man. Innocence is meaningless.” He sighs, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“I don’t know how my brothers and sisters could stomach wearing a mantle of loyalty, knowing that it was woven so thoroughly from sin. And I’m very sorry for you.”

“And yet, you sit before me in a mantle of such finery. Besides, this is about more than that. Changing the course of history. Good men die and are forgotten. Conquerors change things.” Caleb sighs, looking away.

“Did you know Astrid and Eadowulf?” She nods, baring her teeth in that smile again. “Are they still alive?”

“Yes. I know them better than you, I think.”

“That is likely true. I am not the man I was.” She tugs on the chains slightly.

“Why are you here? What do you want from me?” Caleb sighs, sitting merely inches away from her at this point.

“I had hoped that if you had shown one inch of mercy that maybe all our souls wouldn’t be eternally blackened.” Privately, there is some joy in him, that this torture had not continued without Ikithon to drive it. “And to tell you, that even if you do not share the sentiment, I consider you a sister. I will be there for the end.”

“Well, I hope this conversation has been worth it. And I’ve always been impatient.” The movement is so fast Caleb can’t even throw up a shield spell before she drives a sharp spear of metal into his clavicle. He recoils, surprised but before anyone else can react, Essek raises a single hand. The Volstrucker rises with his hand, choking as blood drips down her cheeks. Caleb staggers back but gives the Shadowhand a curt nod.

Essek crushes her body in a single motion.

Caleb looks away, as Caduceus and Jester reach for him, healing magic at their fingertips. He doesn’t complain, letting them heal the wound on his throat.

“We should go,” he says quietly.

“Did you get any good information out of her?” He nods in reply to Beau and begins to head outwards, barely waiting for Essek to follow.

The Mighty Nein keep moving.

Chasing Obann, the Laughing Hand and Yasha ends in disaster in the Lotusden Greenwood. Essek is frustrated when they ask for him to teleport them, again to the Lotusden Greenwood and Caleb manages to smooth it over.

“Essek, we are truly sorry to keep asking like this. I promise you, we would not do so, if we were not concerned for the timing required.”

“Last time you had me teleport into the den of an ancient dragon, Lord de Rolo,” he says and Caleb winces at the use of his title.

“Entschuldigung, Shadowhand Theylss. We shall not ask again.” That makes Essek sigh, fiddling ever so slightly with his mantle.

“No, that was rude of me. I am sorry, Caleb. I have had a lot on my mind. I know you would not ask unless it was urgent. Come, to the Lotusden Greenwood, you say?”

It’s still not enough.

Obann teleports Yasha and the Laughing Hand out before any real combat can happen, leaving Mollymauk screaming her name into nothingness.

“Yasha!” Caleb is the nearest, but he hesitates to comfort him. They haven’t really spoken since the last time.

“Mollymauk,” he says quietly and the tiefling turns to him, tears pouring down his cheeks. There is no anger in his face, only abject sorrow. Caleb steps forward, all hesitation gone as he hugs him.

“We will chase them across the whole world,” he promises. “We will chase them anywhere to get her back, I swear to you.” Mollymauk sags into the hug, nodding slightly.

“We will get her back.”

The Mighty Nein is at somewhat a loose end upon returning to Rosohna and so, it is decided that they will bounce down to Nicodranas.

And that’s where they find the issue of Yussa.

“He’s been gone for far too long,” Wensforth frets, indicating the prone body of the mage. Caleb frowns, unsure what to do. “He said to contact a friend of his if anything went wrong.”

“I think you should do so,” says Caleb. Jester is toying with the Happy Fun Ball.

“We should go in after him!” she exclaims, and Caleb can’t deny that the idea is enticing. There is so much about the space that they haven’t learnt. But with the dilation in time, there is a slight worry that they will lose track of Yasha if they are not careful.

“Ja, we may have to,” he mutters. Wensforth steps out of the room, muttering into a sending stone, presumably to Yussa’s friend. “I’m just worried about us losing track of Yasha.” There is a pause.

“Well,” Jester says, slowly. “I can always scry again, when we get back. So we can find her.” Mollymauk nods, shifting from foot to foot. He is always uncomfortable when Yasha is brought up.

Wensforth re-enters the room, with a thin smile.

“Well, uh, Master Yussa’s friend is coming, she’ll be here in a moment.” Caleb exchanges glances with the rest of the Nein. They’re always on edge, always worried when meeting new people. Nott gives him a nod and steps backwards, disappearing into the darkness. She is always prepared to protect them. From down the hall, there is the sound of a teleportation spell completing and Caleb’s hand goes to his pocket. He finds his iron wire and gives a glance to Beau, to let her know he’s ready for anything. She gives him a grim smile in reply, balling her fists.

And then Allura Vysoren walks through the door. And freezes.

“Caleb de Rolo. What in the good names of all the gods are you doing here?”

“Allura!” Caleb runs over, hugging her without a second thought. She laughs, returning the hug in full force. “It is so good to see you! It feels like forever.”

“It’s so good to see you too, child. I see you have made new friends?” She pulls back to look over the Mighty Nein who still look nervous. Caleb nods, waving a hand.

“Everyone, this is Allura Vysoren. She taught me magic again when my parents took me in. Allura, this is the Mighty Nein.” He takes a moment to introduce everyone, as Nott comes creeping out of the shadows.

“So, how do you know Yussa? And what has that fool managed to get himself into this time?” Jester shows Allura the Happy Fun Ball and explains what has happened. It takes them a little while to work out what to do from there, but Caleb knows that they will have to go into the ball.

“Also, Caleb,” Allura says, as the others begin to chatter about going back inside. “I got your letter about that spell.” She sighs a little. “I don’t know anything that could be used to do what you desire. Short of true polymorph, but even that can be dispelled.” Caleb nods, frowning.

“Right. Thanks, Allura, I will keep looking. I have some ideas about creating the spell myself, it will just take more work than I have done, I think.” She nods, looking just a little bit proud of him discussing making his own spells.

“And Caleb?”

“Ja?”

“Maybe contact home at some point? Or even, visit? Your poor mother is a little beside herself with worry.” Caleb flushes, thinking about the fact that he has written home maybe twice since he left.

“Ah, ja, aha. Jester, uh, Jester can send messages, so I will ask her to contact Mum and Dad on my behalf. And we’ll visit! I promise. Once things are a little less…” he pauses, looking at the Happy Fun Ball as they prepare to enter. “Intense.”

Allura smiles and gives him a slight nod.

“Alright. Be safe, Caleb.” He grins and gives her one last hug, before he moves to twist the pieces on the Ball and they disappear inside.

Chapter Text

The Happy Fun Ball needs renaming, Caleb decides. The Exhausting Death Ball maybe? The Terrible Cursed Ball? He feels so drained, so tired, so useless in here.

The golem that had slapped a collar around his neck had just been the start of it. Halas, spiteful and desperate to escape his imprisonment hadn’t helped. Caleb knows far too well not to trust anyone like this, after everything with the Soltryce Academy. And despite his curiosity for every new thing that the Mighty Nein come across, he is cautious, careful. He knows the stories from his parents. But that doesn’t help him from feeling like everything within this pocket plane is designed to trick him into touching it and thus killing him immediately or to prevent him from helping anyone at all.

And now, they’re heading down to the Prison of Soot, where he will be of no use because the minute he casts anything, the golems will try to kill them. Fantastic.

Being able to talk to Allura has been one of the only things that has soothed him. He keeps their correspondence through the mirror as short as he can because the time dilation must make it very difficult to understand him. Even so, just seeing the face of someone he loves and trusts is enough to keep his head on his shoulders. They’ll be out of here soon, he tells himself. They’ve dealt with the Perma-heart, weakening the Laughing Hand enough to save Yasha. They just need to free Yussa and find an exit.

They can do this.

Caleb can do this.

The Mighty Nein fall silent as they get into the Prison of Soot, their interactions reduced to gestures and scrawled notes on bits of paper. Nott spots a set of chests ahead of them and Jester silently suggests that they might contain the prisoners’ belongings. Caleb nods, as Nott hops ahead to lockpick them. But something’s wrong, he knows it.

She didn’t check for traps.

“Always make sure someone checks for traps before you open anything when you’re investigating,” Percy says, his eyes dark with concern. “Not doing that will get someone killed.”

“Killed?” Caleb echoes, crooking an eyebrow.

“I… I got your mother killed by not waiting for the all clear to touch something. It was nearly ten years ago but I will never forgive myself. Don’t make my mistake.”

Caleb surges forward, desperately gesturing at Nott to stop but he’s too late. She opens the lid of the chest.

Nott doesn’t even have the time to scream before she drops to the floor, eyes wide open and unseeing.

She’s dead.

Nott is dead.

Caleb bites hard into his own lip to make sure he doesn’t cry out, eyes welling up immediately. They have to fix this, now.

There is a choked sound behind him, someone who went to speak before the soot clogged their vocal chords, but he ignores that. The wizard scoops up the goblin’s body, gesturing for the rest of the Mighty Nein to follow, quickly. He makes eye contact with Jester as he goes and there are already tears in her pink eyes.

Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Caleb is so painfully aware that they don’t have long before they won’t be able to bring Nott back at all.

He rushes back out of the Prison of Soot, laying her down as soon as they are not near the mage hunting golems. He remains kneeling next to Nott’s body, unsure if his legs will work if he tries to stand up again.

“Jester,” Caleb manages to say, his voice cracked with desperation.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” she replies tearfully, pulling the diamond from her bag. Caleb tries very hard not to think about how few seconds they have to bring Nott back to them. “Traveller, please, bring her back, bring Nott back.” There is a hand on Caleb’s shoulder and he glances over. Mollymauk stands over him, red eyes damp at the corners. As much as Nott would likely not admit it, she and Molly get along well. They have similar senses of humour, similar ways of viewing the world. Caleb lets himself lean into Molly’s reassuring touch, staring as the diamond shatters over Nott’s chest. No one breathes.

He's so far away from Whitestone, on another plane, but in this moment, Caleb is back in the Temple of Sarenrae, staring down at his father’s body and praying that the ritual has worked. And again, he prays that the gods will be kind enough to give the little goblin whom he would consider one of his greatest friends back.

Please, Pelor. Let her return. She has so much to live for. We need her. I need her.

Nott coughs, her eyelids fluttering as she groans. “Oh owch…”

“Fuck,” says Beau emphatically and Caduceus sighs heavily as he casts a healing spell.

“Nott!” Jester wails but before she can move, Caleb has pulled the goblin into his arms.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m here,” she mutters as Caleb hugs her tightly.

“Check for traps,” he says into her shoulder, trembling ever so slightly. “Always check for traps.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs back, her wiry arms tight around his shoulders. “I will, I promise.” Nott leans back to look up at the rest of the Mighty Nein. “I’m sorry.”

"Just like, I'm really not sure we as a group are cut out for this kind of stress," mutters Fjord, sighing deeply. "Let's be more careful, right?" And Caleb helps his best friend back up off the floor with a slightly crooked smile. Nott looks up at him and gives him a grin in return, her yellow eyes soft with kindness.

She's okay. She's here and she's okay.

Caleb squares his shoulders and brushes himself off. The Terrible Cursed Death Ball seems even more appropriate now as they head on into the Prison of Soot to free Yussa.

The return to the Material Plane leaves Caleb feeling guilty. It has been far too much time since he has sent any word to his parents, especially with the time that he spent in the Ball. Weeks have passed now. He promises himself that he will ask Jester to send a message to Percy as soon as they get a moment. But right now, Allura needs his help finding out what's going on with Yasha.

"Focus on her," Allura mutters as she begins to cast. Caleb recognises bits of the spell, Legend Lore maybe? Scrying with added hope? Allura is more than powerful enough to invent her own spells for things like this. "I need to imagine Yasha clearly so I can get a good grasp on this Angel of Irons." Slowly, as Allura's blue grey magic weaves around them, a form of Yasha appears in the middle of the little circle the Mighty Nein have made. Mollymauk makes a weak sound in the back of his throat, a plaintive desperate noise and Caleb meets eyes with him across the circle. The tiefling grinds his teeth and nods, flashing Caleb a tense smile. He'll be okay. As the spell grows, translucent chains flash out, binding the form of Yasha in front of them. Jester inhales sharply in fear as the form of Yasha is completely engulfed by the chains, disappearing into darkness.

And as she vanishes, the chains begin to untangle, forming a seven pointed star atop pure black void.

And suddenly Caleb knows this is very bad.

Allura pulls back, breaking the spell suddenly.

"Tharizdun."

The name rings a bell to Caleb, from his many hours of reading lore of Exandria when he was non-verbal all those years ago.

"The Chained Oblivion? The Betrayer God?" Beau looks at him, eyes piercing in that way that she gets when she is about to learn something new.

"This thing you chase is a ruse," Allura says gravely.

"There is no Angel of Irons," Yussa says, his voice low and worried. "It is merely a guise."

"So if, if Obann succeeds in breaking all the fucking seals…" Beau starts.

"Then he will release Tharizdun, yes," Allura replies, wringing her hands together. "This is a terrible portent. I must inform the Council at once."

"What of my family?" Caleb asks, as Allura stands. "Surely, Mum or Dad..." he trails off, unsure what he is really asking.

"I will tell them too, Caleb, don't worry. I will not ask them to prepare themselves for battle unless absolutely necessary. Whilst I am sure they would love another chance to send a god back to the void, I would like them to stop giving me more grey hairs. We are all too old for saving the world," Allura replies drily and Caleb smiles. He is always grateful for Allura's no-nonsense approach when it comes to his family.

"Thank you. I'll get a message to Dad as well."

"Oh, please do. Whilst they trust that I have been in contact with you, it has been several weeks for us out here." Caleb's cheeks darken and he nods. Allura steps forward and gives him a tight hug.

"It is still so good to see you, Caleb. I will see you again soon." He nods, giving a soft sigh.

"I will see you soon, Allura." He steps back and in a gentle swish of blue magic, she is gone.

"Well fuck," says Beau. "Didn't realise this was so big."

"We need to find Yasha," Fjord says. "That's the thing we should focus on."

"Stop this before it ever begins," Caduceus rumbles.

"Alright, well, let's start there!" And with that, Jester begins to rifle in her bag, to find the components for Scrying.

Later that night, after the tattoos and chats, Caleb comes to find Jester.

"Can I ask you for a favour?" he says quietly as they stand on the Balleater.

"You want me to send a message?" Jester grins and Caleb smiles wryly, amused by her quick wit as ever.

"I do. If I describe my father to you, will that be enough information for you to send a message to him?"

"Well yeah, probably, but only if you describe him really well, Caleb." He would never tell her, but the way she manages to make his name at least three times longer than it should be is very endearing.

"Okay, so my father is a human man. He's mm, in his late forties now? His hair is white, as is his beard and he's got pale skin. He wears gold circle glasses and a coat like mine. He spends most of his time inside, usually looking at books or paperwork."

"What's your dad's name?" There is a hint of teasing in her voice and Caleb sighs a little.

"Lord Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo the Third." Jester snorts out a laugh and Caleb lets his mouth curl up in a smile.

"That's such a silly name, honestly. Also, if he's only like forty, how are you like thirty four? Did your dad-"

"No," Caleb says firmly, before Jester can make some crude noise to insinuate something. "I am adopted. My father adopted me when I was seventeen."

"Oh," Jester says, realising she's touched a nerve. "Right. Well, that should be enough information!"

"Can you just repeat the words I say?" Caleb says, delicately. Jester has a particular way of casting Sending and it isn't exactly the way he wants to interact with his dad.

"Sure!" she replies brightly.

"Hi Dad, this is Caleb. A friend is sending you this message. I am okay. Sorry for not messaging sooner. How is everything at home?" He pauses. "I am pretty sure that's exactly twenty five words." Jester pouts a little, clearly sad that she couldn't add something fun to the end.

"Alright, here we go. If it gets through, I'll just repeat what he says back, okay?" She flicks her hands out in a flourish and repeats what he had said, word for word, if with completely different tonality. Then she pauses.

"Oh, Caleb! Glad you messaged. Vex has been so worried. All are good in Whitestone, Vax misses you. We miss you. Take care, inkling." She says inkling like a question, her voice pitching in confusion.

"They're okay," he says, softly. "They're fine and they miss me."

"Well, yeah, duh," Jester says, rolling her eyes. "They're your family! Also is inkling a nickname? That’s so cute!"

"Oh yes, it has been for a long time. And honestly, I’m just glad they’re alright, I miss them a lot too.” Jester nods with a softer smile than her previous teasing.

"Well, I'm glad to have helped you check in with your dad with such a long name."

Caleb gives a soft laugh and leans forward to give her a hug.

"Thank you, Jester."

Going back to Rexxentrum is stressful. Caleb feels on edge, uneasy in his own body. He falls back into bad habits, quiet and frustrated but he tries to keep his head. They are here for Yasha. That is the important thing.

He keeps his head down as they wait for Nott outside the Chantry of the Dawn. Beside him, Pumat huffs quietly. Caleb likes him; the firbolg reminds a lot of Gilmore, but with less pizzazz. He's just glad to have more support.

"Okay," Nott hisses as she climbs back out of the small hole. "We could do with a distraction, there are a lot of cult-y people looking dangerous in there. I don't see Yasha."

"I can give us a distraction," Caleb says, thinking on his feet. It's a stupid idea and will put him directly in the middle of the combat, but it will keep people distracted, that's for sure. It's a move that his father would be proud of. And probably Scanlan honestly. "Be ready to move."

He hurries quietly around the back of the Cathedral, taking a deep breath. He pulls out the sprig of catmint from his components pouch in his coat's internal pocket.

"Here goes nothing." And he summons Cat's Ire to punch straight through the stained-glass window in the back of the church.

It all kind of falls to shit after that.

He opens with crackling lightning at his fingertips, felling several of the cultists as the Mighty Nein hurry in. They had hoped to be able to leave the cultists but they are not so lucky, as the cult of the Angel of Irons come out of the basement. Caleb is ducked behind a pillar after his grand entrance, trying to hold concentration on Haste. Mollymauk is moving at the speed of light, a whirling dervish of radiant blades.

And then Yasha, that horrible sword in her hands, steps out from the basement, shadowed by the Laughing Hand.

"Yasha." It's almost silent from Molly but Caleb has long been able to read lips. And then the bloodhunter is furious once more, throwing himself at the Laughing Hand.

Caleb can't stop to breathe. He throws lighting and ice like daggers, trying to stop the Inevitable End from killing anyone else, but she is so difficult to stop, to see, to impact at all.

And then, Obann commands Nott and vanishes into the crypt.

And then, Yasha corners Beauregard.

And then, the Laughing Hand swats Mollymauk into a pillar, the bloodhunter's body crumpling. It's Caleb's shout that's heard, not Molly's when Yasha drives her blade into Beau's fallen body.

"YASHA!" She turns, tears pouring down her face as she moves towards Fjord. But it's enough of an opening. Caduceus, behind her flicks out a hand and Yasha stumbles. Caleb isn't in a good enough position to see what the firbolg had cast, trying to dash across the chapel to Mollymauk's side. But whatever it is, it works.

Yasha stops, howling out in anger and relief, as every window in the Chantry shatters. Her mind is her own again.

But they can’t stop to process that; The Laughing Hand is encroaching on Molly, as damaged as he is.

"Nein. I will not lose him too," spits Caleb and reacts. The flames are in his hands before he even considers it, the spell, his own Web of Fire, incinerates the Laughing Hand before he can take another step towards the tiefling.

"Nott's gone!" screeches Jester as her duplicate helps Beau up. Caleb manages to reach Molly, slowly forcing him to drink a potion of healing. The bloodhunter groans, his red eyes woozy.

"Go, get out of here!" rumbles Pumat as he begins to summon wind to his hands. "Get Obann!" It's Fjord who leads them down into the catacombs and Caleb can't help but stare back at Pumat, hoping beyond hope that he will be okay.

"We, we need to take a breath," he says, looking at Molly who can barely stand and Yasha dripping blood every time she moves.

"I've got something that will help," Caduceus says, closing his eyes. "It shall only take ten minutes."

And so, they pause for ten minutes. The last of their healing potions are passed around and everyone is quiet.

"I am sorry," Yasha says, the first to address the elephant in the room. "I don't know how to make any of you trust me again because I don't even trust myself." There is silence for a long second and then Mollymauk speaks.

"I am just glad to have you back." He isn't lazed out over her like he had been before, but he still sits beside her, careful to give her the space she needs.

"Trust will come in time," Caleb says softly. "Possession is not your fault and whilst we are wounded now, we will heal. I cannot speak for the rest of the Mighty Nein, but I am very glad that you are here with us now." Yasha nods, her eyes wet with fresh tears. "I am glad to have my friend back." He reaches across to squeeze her hands gently.

"I do not deserve that," she says.

"A wise woman once said to me that 'deserving something is bullshit'. So many people in their life get things they do not deserve. You didn't deserve to be possessed and forced to attack your friends any more than you deserve my want to forgive you for it." Caleb smiles, a small, cracked smile.

"He's not wrong," says Beau gruffly. "You didn't deserve any of that shit, Yash." The tears are flowing freely down Yasha's face now, silently, as her shoulders heave.

"And it is going to take some time to believe that," Caleb says. "And you don't have to forgive yourself for everything to let yourself heal. You just can't let your guilt drown you. And we will help with that. I will help with that." Molly grabs Yasha's hand and holds it tightly as Jester comes to take the other.

"We will help," she states, firmly. "I promise."

And as Caduceus's magic washes over them, Yasha raises mismatched eyes to look gratefully at Caleb.

"Thank you. All of you."

It won't be an easy road, Caleb knows it. But forgiving yourself never is and he of all people can help her through that.

 Can help all of the Mighty Nein through that.