Chapter Text
Fjord knew anger. He knew the way it boiled inside him, the way the pressure built in his chest until it felt like all his rage would bubble over, crashing over the side like waves over the railing. A long time ago, he realized he had to keep it in check; let it simmer and let it cool. If he didn’t, he would just end up being everything the world already thought he was. So he learned how to control it as best he could. First by burying it in silence, then by hiding it behind a lopsided grin.
He also knew sadness, he knew guilt, and he knew betrayal. These had felt so much like anger when he was younger that he’d tamped them down, too. He liked to think he’d learned the differences by now, but that didn’t mean he hid them any less.
He learned that sadness tended to come at night, when the asylum was dark and he laid in bed wondering what it would be like to have a mother to sing him to sleep, or a father to tell him bedtime stories.
He learned that guilt came after sadness. Why should he be happy? He was a runt, he was a monster. He didn’t deserve a family like that, wouldn’t push it onto anyone.
Then, years later, he learned betrayal. Standing on the deck of the Tide’s Breath, bloody and confused, he felt it churning in his stomach. He watched Sabian jump ship and sink beneath the waves and he knew he could finally name that feeling pooling deep in his gut.
Now, though, he couldn’t tell them apart at all. He felt like the scared, lost little boy at the orphanage who didn’t know why he was crying, he just knew that it hurt.
She turned on them. She hurt them. She lied to them. She… she heard him.
What did she mean by that?
He was shaken from his thoughts by Beau elbowing him with a gentleness he wasn’t used to from her. She looked up at him, her face pinched in an expression he recognized. Confusion and fear thinly veiled by her trademark scowl. He’d almost forgotten they were talking. He looked down, hoping she couldn’t see through him as easily as he’d seen through her.
“I just wanna know what happened.” He ran his hands nervously up his arms before crossing them in front of him. “I wanna know if it’s her.”
Fjord still couldn’t parse out all of the volatile emotions searing his insides. Was he angry with her? Was he angry with himself? There was betrayal, definitely, but the sorrow weighed so heavily, he didn’t know where the sting of her defection ended and the stab of his own guilt began.
The conversation continued and Fjord knew he was talking, could feel the tears staining his cheeks, but he was only half involved in it. He argued points he wasn’t even sure he believed just because they crossed his mind. He didn’t know what to think and the more he tried to figure it out, the more he felt like a ship in a storm. And every strike of lightning felt like a punch to the gut.
Caleb’s brain processed options quickly. He had been something of a prodigy, after all, and a clever mind was a necessity during his time at the Academy. It proved helpful still. In Darktow, his quick thinking saved all of their lives. In the Bright Queen’s throne room, he saved them again. He was good at determining when to gamble and when to run. At least, he hoped he was. A gamble is still a gamble, even when the promise of reward outweighs the prospect of danger.
Calculated risk, drawled a voice in his head that was deeper than his own.
“We can’t tell her what we did,” that same voice murmured now.
He looked over to Fjord, his brow furrowed in thought and fear. Nein, simply in thought , he told himself hastily. But the smoldering tendrils of panic slowly creeping around his mind and smothering his too-fast heart said otherwise.
He focused in on the half-orc in front of him, letting the timbre of his voice pull him back to solid ground and out of the haze of anxiety beginning to cloud his thoughts. He let his fingers ghost over the scar that split his palm and he felt himself settle back into reality, like an anchor keeping a ship in port. It would have just been another scar to Caleb, but he sensed that it was more than that for Fjord. That was enough to give it meaning to him.
Fjord’s gaze was fixed on the ground at his feet, and he didn’t look up, even when he spoke. Caleb could see the streaks of tears that cut through the blood still covering the man’s face. He swayed slightly on his feet and had his arms crossed in a way that reminded Caleb of how he held himself when he awoke from yet another nightmare plagued by cinder and smoke.
Feeling grounded once more, Caleb worked through his emotions briskly, coming around to the only option they had in just a matter of seconds.
They had nothing. They had less than nothing. But they had information. This was too much for them alone. They had to run. He had to run. But they couldn’t run. They had to go back.
This conversation was just going in circles. Beau was convinced they hadn’t lost yet, Caduceus had a shaky plan, and Fjord could only see the risk. Telling the Bright Queen meant potentially giving up everything they worked so hard to achieve in Xhorhas. Everything Caleb had worked to achieve. But they couldn’t ignore this. It wasn’t an option.
“We’re dealing with things we don’t understand,” he said haltingly. “And I think it’s time to stop the con and face this.”
Caleb looked to the rest of the group and saw the same tear-stained cheeks on all of his friends’ faces. His vision blurred faintly, his own eyes prickling with emotion. He blinked hard.
“Why don’t we take it one step at a time. Tomorrow, we contact the queen from here. Come clean. Because whatever this is, it is bigger than us. We’ll read her reaction,” he paused, pursing his lips and swallowing down the lump of white-hot fear in his throat.
“We’ll make a decision after that.”
They actually contacted the Shadowhand first. It seemed like the safer bet.
After nearly an hour of back and forth and a hefty amount of scratched out or crumpled drafts, they had finally figured out how to get most of the information in one message, then they could use extra spells for clarifying as needed. Which, unfortunately, was needed.
“Okay, so, basically, he wants us to go back to Rosohna so they can get all the information,” Jester said, clasping her hands together in her lap on the floor of the attic. She bit her lip lightly and glanced around at their ragtag group, now one down. No one looked too thrilled by this idea.
Near her on the floor, Caleb looked down and rubbed the back of his neck and Beau sighed loudly from her perch on a crate behind him. Caduceus leaned forward on the cot where he sat next to Fjord.
“But the answers are at the kiln, I thought we were going there next.” His voice was low and the look on his face made it clear that the politics of the matter were lost on him.
Fjord dragged a hand down his face and laid back on the bed with a groan. This was going great.
“But he said we weren’t in trouble or anything!” Jester chirped. “He said that the queen still thinks we’re really cool!”
She’s trying , Fjord thought. She really was trying to make this not seem so bad. But not even Jester, whose spirit kept him sane through the worst of their captivity, could make this situation feel any less shitty.
Caleb stood carefully and placed a hand on Beau’s shoulder, though Fjord couldn’t quite tell if it was to reassure her or himself.
“I say we go back.”
Fjord practically launched himself back up into a sitting position and cocked his head at Caleb, confusion drawing his brows together. Beside him, Caduceus frowned and folded his arms onto his knees.
“Now, why,” Fjord began, “would we go and do that?”
Caleb stood a bit taller. “I can think of quite a few reasons, actually. The first of which is that I believe this tenuous alliance we have with the queen is worth salvaging if possible.
“Yeah, that sounds likely,” Fjord scoffed lightly and ran his tongue over the nubs of his tusks starting to grow back out.
“This is bigger than us. This is... It is more than we bargained for. And we need to own that.”
Fjord could read people easily enough; body language said a lot. He wasn’t Caduceus or Jester, but he was capable. Caleb, however, had a way of masking it all that Fjord found frustrating. He was well aware of the hypocrisy of that, but he couldn’t help it. He’d found he enjoyed the man’s company, the quiet warmth of it. It felt like a privilege to see the real Caleb, even though it happened more often lately. When the mask was on, though, when he straightened his back and spoke clear and cool, Fjord could feel the wizard’s reserved voice snake up his spine, like icy tendrils in the water. And Fjord was really starting to hate the cold.
This is Bren.
The only indication of the real Caleb was the steadying hand on Beau. Detached Caleb wouldn’t need that. The realization made the tension in Fjord’s shoulders ease slightly, but only slightly now that he knew more about the man than half of their group. Now that he knew what he did. Fjord could vividly remember the look on the other man’s face last night as he shared his tumultuous past.
“And,” Caleb’s hard lines softened a bit more and he looked over to Nott, who seemed to already be drunk, “your husband is still in the capital, ja? ”
The goblin girl’s face tightened and she coughed lightly.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice cracking.
“Oh,” Fjord rumbled.
It was clear she’d been thinking about it, worrying it over in her mind all night. It was probably one of the many reasons why she hadn’t stopped drinking since Yasha... left. Obviously, it was something Caleb thought of, and there was that warmth again. He glanced around and realized it was something that everyone had probably thought about at some point. Except him, of course. This time, he knew exactly what the sinking feeling in his stomach was and he tried to swallow it down. He was being selfish and it was only making everything more difficult. He cleared his throat.
“Okay, so we go back. Then what? Do we- Do we get Yeza out first? Take him to the coast, to your mom?” He waved a hand down and looked at Jester.
“Oh, that is a good idea, actually.” She reached out and took Nott’s hand. “Shakäste and Luc should be there really soon, right?”
“Yeah, I-I think so?” she said, tilting it up at the end like a question. “Could you check on my boy, Jessie?”
“Um, sure Nott, but it will be my last one today. And we still have to travel, so. Just make sure no one dies today, okay?”
“Oh no, it’s- it’s fine–-”
“Why don’t you hold off ‘til we make camp tonight, Jes,” Fjord interjected, seeing flashes of his companions falling around him. The image of russet-brown hair streaked with blood and bright blue eyes going dim sticking out in his mind. The wizard was squishy, it made sense to worry. “That way, if you need the spell for somethin’ else, you’ll be okay.”
Jester looked up at Fjord, eyes round and wet with more tears, and then to Nott, who just nodded.
“Actually,” Caleb interjected hesitantly, and the others looked at him mildly confused.
“I can get us there instantly.”
Jester and Nott snapped their heads up toward the wizard simultaneously. Fjord remembered Caleb studying the intricate circular runes at Rosohna and the tower in Nicodranas.
“Oh, that uh. Teleportation thing, right?” he asked.
“Ja, yes,” he nodded. “But, ah. I can’t do it until tomorrow. I didn’t prepare it.”
“We’d still make much better time.”
“You know the circle at the Tidespeak, too, right Cay-leb?” Jester asked, looking more hopeful than before.
“Is that the tower with that creepy wizard and the gobby?” Nott poked Jester’s arm lightly and they began discussing the arrangements for travel to Rosohna tomorrow and then to Nicodranas with Yeza the next day. So long as they didn’t get arrested in between.
Jester’s spirits looked lifted at the idea of seeing her mom, and Nott, while still nervous, was happy to be getting her husband out of the capital and to be reuniting with her son. It was good to see them a little closer to acting like themselves.
Fjord knew how much it had hurt the girls to leave Yasha behind. Jester cared so deeply and he knew her remorse ran just as deep. And Nott was already having a difficult time dealing with everything. She’d been distraught leaving her son behind and he’d seen the way she dove back into drinking when they left Yeza in Rosohna. He could only imagine how she felt leaving Yasha, too.
Hell, it hurt them all to leave her. He could admit that to himself. Last night had been… rough, to say the least.
They had returned to Bazzoxan drained; physically, mentally, and magically. Their communal bedroom for the night was likely secure, but they were all on edge enough to agree to a watch. Jester volunteered for the first shift, saying she’d be up for a while anyway. Nott stayed up with her, both of them sniffling. Fjord was sure they’d be crying most of the night.
“I’ll take the next.” He was fine to take the watch alone, try to work through what was going on in his head.
Caleb shifted behind him. “I will join you if that’s alright, Fjord.”
Fjord was about to protest, knowing that the wizard could use the extra rest, but when he turned around to reply, Fjord found him standing much closer than he’d anticipated and he hesitated. He caught the reflection of the group’s lone lantern in Caleb’s eyes, ringing the icy blue with a soft orange glow. And there was something in those eyes that made Fjord nod in agreement. Caleb looked down then, and Fjord let out a small breath he didn’t know he was holding.
With the watch order figured out, they tried to turn in for the night. Fjord laid awake for a long time, listening to Jester sobbing softly and Nott mumbling occasional words of comfort. Based on the frequent creaking of the cot next to his, Caleb was likely just as restless as he was. The absence of any familiar snoring also meant Beau and Caduceus were still up. Which was all pretty much expected. He settled down for a mostly sleepless night.
Eventually, though, he must have passed out, as suddenly he was waking up to the gentle nudging of Jester at his side letting him know it was his turn to take watch. Fjord sat up slowly, dragging a hand through his still dirty hair, fingers catching momentarily in a patch of what could only be dried blood. He looked past where Beau seemed to have finally fallen asleep on the floor between their two cots to see Nott and Jester piling onto the one that Caleb must have just vacated. He turned to find the wizard sitting in a pile of worn-thin blankets that couldn’t have been much protection against the hard floor, with Frumpkin purring softly in his lap.
“There’s plenty of room up here, if ya’ want,” he offered, never mind the fact that the cot was barely big enough for him. He cleared the sleep from his throat quietly and kept his voice low, trying not to disturb any of the other people in the room.
“Oh, uh. Ja , okay.”
Caleb set Frumpkin down in the pile of blankets, which he kneaded with his paws and then snuggled into with an exaggerated yawn. The wizard got up cautiously and Fjord realized that Caleb’s eyes were likely still adjusting to the dark of the room. He reached a hand out to him to guide him over and felt the light touch of Caleb’s fingers trace briefly across his arm before the wizard realized it was Fjord offering support. It was difficult to make out in the grayscale of his darkvision, but Fjord saw a slight blush creep up his neck. Quickly, Caleb took his hand and made his way to the cot without stepping on anyone. Fjord tried not to notice how fragile the human’s hand seemed in his before letting go just as quickly.
He shifted up, pulling his knees in a bit and resting his arms on either side. Caleb situated himself near the foot of the bed. He was close enough that Fjord could smell the faint smoky residue on his skin, but not close enough to be touching.
“Thank you, Fjord,” Caleb whispered, not quite looking at him.
“Always.”
Can I count on you to return the favor?
Fjord shivered at the memory evoked by such a simple word and found himself running the thumb of his other hand over the raised skin on his right palm. Caleb didn’t appear to notice and Fjord sent a silent prayer of thanks to whoever decided humans didn’t need to see in the dark. His embarrassment left him in a sigh and he relaxed back into the thin pillow, leaning on the wall at the head of the bed.
Caleb seemed to be content to sit in silence and that suited Fjord just fine. Quiet watches with Caleb never felt awkward. And tonight, after everything that happened, his quiet companionship was definitely welcome.
They sat like that for a while, Caleb shifting a few times until he settled in facing the other man, legs mirroring and just barely brushing against the half-orc’s. Fjord looked up at the soft touch to find Caleb staring vaguely into the room. He glanced over to find an empty spot in the blankets where Frumpkin was just moments before. Looking around the room, Fjord couldn’t spot the cat and assumed Caleb must be doing a quick check of the perimeter.
“Caleb?”
After a pregnant pause and no indication that the man had heard him, Fjord determined that he must have been right about the Frumpkin check. He shifted his leg to get comfortable and he leaned a little further against Caleb’s.
Looking at Caleb like this always felt like intruding on something very intimate. Maybe it was the way his face softened. How the almost constant crease at his brow eased away and his lips parted just slightly. It revealed something raw beneath the scruff and the dirt and the worry. Something that made him look less like the confident wizard who took risks and knew all the answers, and more like a young man set adrift, trying his best, but unable to find his way even years down the road. Fjord admired the bold and decisive side of Caleb, but felt so in tune with this openly lost side of him that he let himself imagine how close they could be if either one of them was able to open up to the other. They’re friends, maybe, but true honesty would make them… what? Close friends? Brothers? Something about the latter option made him wrinkle his nose. That label definitely didn’t fit right. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to think of something else and he instantly regretted it.
The only other thing he could possibly think of was the absolute clusterfuck that the day had turned into.
He didn’t know exactly what they’d planned to get out of the meeting with Obann, but they’d definitely not planned to lose anything. Or anyone. The whole thing stunk of a failure of the worst kind. The kind with consequences.
And boy, did this have consequences.
With his eyes closed, true darkness could finally take him and in that darkness he heard laughter. High and low, loud and soft, worming its way into his mind. He snapped his eyes open again with a jerk, knocking his knee into Caleb’s.
“Fjord?”
The human’s voice was little more than a whisper that barely made it the short distance across the bed to the man in question.
“S’nothin’, sorry. Just a twitch,” Fjord murmured, not looking up at him and feeling like his emotions were finally catching up. Like any second he was going to need to scream, cry, or a combination of the two.
“Ah.”
The warlock looked back at Caleb and saw his gaze was vaguely focused somewhere over Fjord’s shoulder. A small wrinkle had formed between his brows; softer, though, than usual and Fjord assumed he’d gone back into Frumpkin-vision. He realized then that the inside of his leg was still flush against the outside of Caleb’s. Fjord shifted his knee to give him space, but as he pulled away, the other man’s knee leaned gently back against his.
He glanced warily at the wizard, but his expression hadn’t changed. It must’ve been an involuntary thing. That was fine. Fjord was pretty used to close quarters by this point, what with his time on the sea and his experience sleeping under the bubble with the Nein. Jester was a cuddler, Beau’s legs always ended up draped over someone, and Caduceus liked to pull people in like stuffed toys. Nott even found her way curled into the crook of Fjord’s knees some nights when Caleb was on watch, though he wouldn’t dare bring it up around her.
The point was, Fjord didn’t take much stock in personal space with this group and it wasn’t long before his thoughts drifted off. The warmth of Caleb sitting near him was comforting and it kept the cold, haunting laughter at bay. It couldn’t, however, keep his thoughts completely free. He thought about Yasha again and anger and betrayal roiled just beneath the skin.
“She was always going to hurt us, wasn’t she? How long has she just been biding her time?”
He spoke softly, taking comfort in Vandren’s smooth drawl.The only person who could have heard was occupied , but he was relieved just to say it aloud. So he kept going.
“I don’t… trust easy. Anymore. Since, y’know. So I should’ve known. I thought I was being cautious enough, but I let y’all in too close. Somehow, you got close.
I thought I’d be able to step back, be in control. Not be fuckin’ blinded by emotions again. But I failed. I fucked up. I should’ve been able to protect you. All of you. But I couldn’t and I almost-” he was cut off by a sound escaping his throat that definitely wasn’t a choked-back sob.
“She would have killed me,” he finished shakily, realizing only after the words left him that he’d used his true voice. He rubbed the heels of his palms hard into his eyes, leaning his elbows onto his knees. He was tired and hurt and once again he wanted to scream.
The soft brush of fingers on his arm almost made him actually do it, and he nearly jumped out of the bed.
“Fjord…” Caleb was now looking directly at him, his voice low and cautious. His face was hard with worry, but his eyes were soft.
Fjord’s eyes widened and he shifted back against the wall, just out of Caleb’s reach. He almost regretted it when he could no longer feel the warmth from the other man’s body, but told himself he would be fine.
“Goddammit, Caleb,” he tried to joke. “Ya’ gotta stop spookin’ me like that.”
Caleb’s hand was still outstretched toward where Fjord used to be. He hummed and pulled his legs in to sit cross-legged, dropping his hands into his lap.
When Fjord made no move to speak up, he cleared his throat and swallowed audibly.
“I thought we knew her, too,” he said.
There was a long pause where it seemed like Fjord wasn’t going to respond, but then he took a deep breath.
“That… That isn’t the point I was makin’. It’s just that I was supposed to be the one to… to-”
“Right the ship?” Caleb suggested gently and let out a small sigh of laughter. “I thought that was my job.”
Fjord breathed a laugh in response, but didn’t offer anything else. They sat there in silence like that for a while and Fjord regretted ever speaking at all. Why hadn’t he made sure Caleb was back in Frumpkin before he opened his big mouth?
“We are friends, Fjord. We are all friends. That means we defend each other. It isn’t just on you.”
The half-orc snorted.
“Friends? I thought so, yeah. But I still haven’t…” he sighed, not finishing the thought. “And we still don’t know much about anyone else’s past.” Looking away from the other man, he conceded, “Well. ‘Sides yours.”
An expression that almost looked like pain crossed Caleb’s face.
“Ah, yes,” he started, and swallowed hard. “But… You know only what I’ve told you. There is, um. There is more to the story, things that Nott and Beau know already. Things that, uh,” he glanced upwards. “That you may find hard to forgive.”
Fjord narrowed his eyes and there was a small pinch in his chest upon hearing that he’d been out of the loop. It made keeping the group safe harder if he didn’t know things, of course. But he didn’t question the wizard, or push him. He waited for Caleb to offer it up himself. The human took a deep breath and looked off into the distance once more.
“I am going to tell you the story of how I murdered my mother and father.”