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Fjord has been watching the dark shift around him for a few hours. His head is buzzing, and every so often a part of him aches loudly. Mostly it's his stomach--sore when he breathes deep, even over a week out from the fateful night--but sometimes it's his skin itching over his new scar, and even more occasionally it's something deep inside him that's hollow and yearning to be filled. He hadn't even realized there would be anything to miss until he'd vomited it up onto the deck.
A mere suggestion of sound comes from beyond his doorway. Somebody else may still be awake.
Fjord finds it less appealing than it should be, spending his nights in the captain's quarters. Too big for one person. They had all stayed in Caleb's bubble for a few nights, to ensure the agents of Uk'otoa would stay away, but it got old pretty quickly--particularly with the, ehm, disagreements between some of the party on certain subjects--and after several days they had dispersed again, albeit with many protections layered over Fjord's quarters. He can't tell if he regrets his decision--not because he fears the creatures returning, but because the closeness is once again far from his grasp.
The only company he has tonight is Caduceus's guardian. It stands at the closed doorway, back turned to him. The crystal glimmers, though--light deep inside that shades its facets a dim, pleasant shade of purple. The sight is the most comfort he can glean on a night like this.
The guardian lurches suddenly, and Fjord moves bolt-upright. Are they back? Will he never escape from their claws, from Uk'otoa, from the merciless side of the sea?
But the guardian only swivels its crystalline head around to Fjord, and then its shoulders seem to... slump. An action so person-like that for a moment Fjord can't reconcile it with the silent sentinel at his door.
A moment later, the crystal's light flickers out. The guardian is still there, but it's dark and the comforting glow is gone. Caduceus, Fjord thinks hazily. Something must have happened to him.
Rubbing his eyes, Fjord swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands. He certainly can't sleep at the thought of Caduceus in trouble. A memory of him dead in a cave flashes in Fjord's mind and hangs there; he can almost picture the deep scions standing over Caduceus's thin body, pink hair gone red and grey skin sapped of all life. The image only makes him walk faster.
Caduceus's bedroll is revealed to be empty, sheet crumpled and tossed aside. Fjord inhales sharply and starts back up the stairs, onto the deck, eyes straining in the dark--
There. Hair washed silver in the moonlight, folded into a small silhouette. Fjord's steps are too loud and too fast for Caduceus to miss them; his long ears twitch.
"Caduceus," Fjord says with purpose, and stops. He doesn't know what's happening here; he's only driven by the need to see the firbolg's face, to make sure he's safe and whole. "Are you--is everything alright?"
"It's a little hard to sleep," Caduceus replies, his voice low and quiet. Fjord is suddenly aware of how loud he had been speaking; the tips of his ears go warm. This was a bad idea. Of course Caduceus doesn't want to be disturbed.
"Oh, um--sorry. I just wanted to check... well, Uk'otoa and all that, you know."
"I do think I know," says Caduceus, dry as Fjord's ever heard him. "But there's nothing to apologize for. I'm sorry for waking you. I was trying to be quiet."
"Um, I wasn't asleep. Actually. So you don't have anything to be sorry for either." Fjord hesitates, and then drops to his knees next to Caduceus. Caduceus's gaze flits over him once before going back to the endless splatter of stars above them.
Fjord doesn't look up; he's spent a lifetime at sea. He knows the constellations, their reflections on the water, the way the sky and sea blur the edges to make a single star-filled void.
He knows less about the shadows of Caduceus's cheekbones. The way the moons wash his eyelashes silver, and they're so long that they brush the skin beneath his eyes when he blinks. For a moment, Fjord commits the sight to memory--before he remembers himself. This is not a liminal space. This is not a dream, much as Caduceus looks like one. Fjord may not look upon him so unabashed.
Not that it would mean anything anyway. Fjord's gaze is simple, analytical, detached. When he looks at Caduceus, he sees shapes and angles. Not something ethereal or enchanting or holy.
"Bad dreams?" Caduceus asks.
Fjord smiles. "Not tonight. Just... well, I said it would be fine to go back to the captain's quarters--" he hesitates for a long moment.
"It seems a little lonely," murmurs Caduceus, and Fjord exhales. It never fails to shock him, how Caduceus knows the words that Fjord can't find for himself. One of many qualities he was envious of, at first--now he prefers to think himself simply appreciative.
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess that's it."
Caduceus blinks slow in understanding, and they lapse into silence. Fjord looks at his hands and listens to the water lapping at the sides of the ship--he finds a hundred memories recalled from that one sound. Sabian, Vandran, gods and monsters. The very first journey Caduceus accompanied them on.
"Hey Cad," Fjord says abruptly. Caduceus jolts in a rare show of surprise. "Did you--you said you were learning to swim, a long time ago. Have you gone back in the water since... how long ago was that?"
Caduceus drums his fingers against his knees. "I mean, I went to the beach around Nicodranas a while ago," he says. "Out to one of the big rocks."
"And you... liked it? Or...?"
"Well, you were right. It was very large. You could get lost out there. I almost did. And the water was... cold. And salty."
Fjord rubs the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. "Cold and salty? That's the best I'll get from you?"
"The Wild Mother may guide the oceans, but there are many things in it that rebel against Her." Caduceus's eyes drift over to Fjord, to his chest, and linger. The fresh scar beneath Fjord's thin undershirt aches. "Unfortunately, I'm having a hard time looking past that."
"A damn shame," Fjord sighs. His eyes catch on the glittery reflection of the moons over water, and hover there. "...You know," he begins, before Caduceus holds up a hand.
"Fjord, you know I support you in all your endeavors," he starts. Fjord feels himself shift to the defensive at the tone of his voice. "But I also know what it sounds like when you have... an idea."
"An idea?" Fjord repeats, incredulous. "What do you mean, an idea?"
"Like touching weird objects. Or pushing buttons. Things like that."
Fjord scowls. "I was just going to ask if you--um, wanted to go swimming."
Caduceus blinks.
"...Like, here? Now?"
"Well, we have a ladder." Fjord gestures to it, a few feet off to his right. "And the last time I went swimming was the, uh, incident." Caduceus's face goes eerily blank; Fjord hadn't even noticed how open it was until it shifted. "I teleported into--anyway, you get the idea. So it hasn't been much of a peaceful place for me, you know? But we're around it all the time. And... I don't know, I thought maybe if I got in it would feel more familiar again."
Caduceus's expression shifts from skeptical to something softer. "You... and you want me to come in with you?"
"Well, yes." Fjord's cheeks are hot, but he makes it a goal not to lie to Caduceus--or any of the Mighty Nein, really. And the truth is that Fjord has always had some need to get Caduceus to love the ocean. He isn't quite sure where it comes from--and he doesn't want to think about it too hard, in any case.
"That sounds nice, I think," says Caduceus. "But... do you really think it's going to be okay? I mean, I have to assume those... things came from the ocean."
Fjord's shoulders relax. "Come on, Cad! It'll be fine. And, even if something does go wrong--which it won't--you're a cleric! Healing people is what you do!"
Caduceus hesitates. "I won't--I can't let you die again, Fjord." His voice is pained.
"That won't happen," Fjord bumps his shoulder against Caduceus's arm. "It'll be fine. I promise."
Caduceus meets Fjord's eyes, his own wide and earnest. The silver light from above turns them glassy and breakable. Fjord can't help his stare--enraptured by the otherworldly glow that clings to the cleric.
"You do?" Caduceus whispers. Voice almost swept away by the waves.
"I, um," Fjord swallows hard. "Yeah. I promise."
A salty breeze skims across the deck. He can imagine it carrying Her words, as it has so many times before, and he can picture them warm and comforting and honey-sweet. Caduceus shifts his shoulders; Fjord knows he can feel it too.
"Well... alright then. But I'm still not very good at swimming."
A burst of something in Fjord's chest floods all of his hollow spaces, and a smile overtakes his features before he fights it back and clears his throat. "Don't worry. I won't let you drown."
Caduceus raises a doubtful eyebrow. "Consider me reassured," he says. "Hmm... I guess I do have water breathing in my spells today. "
"I just said--" Fjord starts, and then stops and sighs. It's probably best not to push his luck. Pick your battles, and all; he's never been very good at that part.
With an amount of decisiveness he doesn't really feel, Fjord stands up and heads to the edge of the ship. He almost hesitates in unraveling the ladder over the side, but damn it, he asked, and now he's going to commit.
Caduceus watches the ladder swing with an impassive face. Fjord glances at him before stripping his shirt off and draping it over the taffrail; it's the only piece of clothing he can bring himself to remove, for multiple reasons.
Caduceus's expression seems to twitch violently before settling intently on the blurred horizon. Fjord's ears go hot again, and he climbs partly down the ladder before an uncomfortable silence or too many screaming thoughts can grab a hold of him.
"Should I... take off. Um. My clothes. As well?" Caduceus peers over the side of the ship at Fjord, eyes large as the moons, skin under them darker than Fjord is accustomed to.
Fjord pauses halfway down the ladder, almost missing the next rung with his feet. For a moment all he can comprehend is a low buzzing sound, probably coming from inside his head and spilling out into his ears.
"Fjord?"
"Uhhhh," he blinks rapidly. "I mean. Uh, it's really up to you, I think. Personal preference."
Caduceus nods, his head vanishing back from the ship's edge. Fjord hangs on for a moment too long before mentally hitting himself and descending until his heels touch chilly seawater.
Sucking in a deep breath, he lets go of the ladder and falls into the ocean. For a moment he's submerged, and he opens his eyes to the deep dark that surrounds him. A part of him searches for the glowing yellow orb in the depths below, but there's nothing but gloom when he looks down.
"--ord? Fjord!"
Fjord surfaces, gulping a breath and looking up. Caduceus's hands are clenched around the railing and he stares down with worry deeply engraved in his face. Fjord offers up a smile as he treads water.
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
Caduceus shakes his head and disappears, but Fjord only has a moment to for the disappointment to set in before he's back, having shed his sleeping robe, but keeping his gauzy shirt and shorts that he always wears under it on. Fjord swims backward so he doesn't have to crane his neck so far as he watches Caduceus warily descend the ladder.
It's always astonishing to realize exactly how skinny Caduceus is. Fjord can't imagine it--even back in the days where he was starving, when all the other children at the orphanage turned their backs to him, Fjord doesn't think he ever looked like that.
But Caduceus isn't starving. He makes them food; Fjord watches him eat it. Maybe he doesn't eat as much as the rest do, but surely enough to make him more than the skin and bones he is now. Fjord resolves to ask him about it sometime in the near future.
He swims closer as Caduceus nears the surface. When the firbolg puts a foot down and finds it covered with water, he lets out an endearing squeak and yanks it back up to the safety of dry wood; Fjord can read the apprehension in the planes of his shoulders and the curve of his spine.
"Hey. Cad?" Fjord asks, when Caduceus stays clinging to the ladder for a too long moment. "It'll be better if you go all at once. Gets you adjusted faster. If you just, uh, let go right now..." Caduceus squeaks again. "Or not! Or not. You can just take the rungs all the way down. I swear, I'm right here."
Caduceus mutters something in a language Fjord doesn't know, and abruptly slides the rest of the way down, sinking into the water. For a moment all Fjord can see is his hair, flowing in the current like a mass of pink and white kelp. Fjord floats forward, counting the seconds, until the upper half of Caduceus's face surfaces mere inches from his own.
"Melora," Caduceus exhales after a moment of silence. "It's so cold."
Fjord grins. "Just give it a few. You won't even feel it after a couple of minutes."
"Somehow I doubt that," Caduceus says darkly, but he follows as Fjord motions for them to journey further away from the shadow of the ship. He seems to be holding his own okay; Fjord swims backward, a little nervous about letting Caduceus out of his sight despite himself.
After a few seconds, Caduceus rasps, "Is this... it?"
Fjord blinks. "I mean, yeah," he says. "It's nice, isn't it?" The water surrounding him, keeping him steady, the prevailing calm of the ocean surface. The infinite stretching out into the beyond--how he can imagine himself acting as a focal point in the monotony.
"I guess I can see the appeal," Caduceus says begrudgingly. Fjord glances at him in excitement, and for a split second it seems as if Caduceus's gaze has only been resting on him, avoiding the expanse that engulfs them. But the next moment his eyes are reflecting the stars above and Fjord discards the notion if only for his peace of mind. "I suppose this is just another face of the Wild Mother. Just one I'm not used to."
"Huh," Fjord murmurs. "D'you think she can see us now?"
"You tell me," Caduceus says. His voice has gone softer, presumably in deference to their god. "This is your place."
"It's not my place, Caduceus," Fjord says. He looks back to his own focal point, the cleric's ears pinned against the sides of his head and his hair plastered to his skin in many silver strands. "You're here too."
That gets a quiet laugh. "I am," Caduceus shakes his head. "There's no denying that."
"Last time you said it means something."
"I don't know if I'll ever love the ocean like you, Fjord."
"I'm not asking you to love it," Fjord says. Something sits heavy in his chest, a feeling that grows with each passing hour. He holds a hand out through the water, extending his palm. "Just asking you to be here." With me, his hand says. The water is slowly but steadily deconstructing his walls; he should start heading back before it's too late to salvage them.
Caduceus sets his slender fingers in Fjord's own. "That's nice," he says, which Fjord has learned is a stand-in for a great many things that he could be saying instead. Fjord will have to make do.
He clutches Caduceus's hand and looks over the waves. "I think we've worn out our welcome here," he says. He's starting to feel the cold seeping into his bones. "Are... are you shivering?"
"I don't think I'm made for this kind of weather. Or water."
Fjord frowns and tugs Caduceus's hand; he puts up no resistance as he's pulled closer, eventually close enough to share body heat through the water. "Well, I said I wouldn't let you freeze to death. So we should probably head back."
"You said you wouldn't let me drown," Caduceus remarks arbitrarily. Fjord rolls his eyes.
"Fine. Death by water in general, then. I don't know how I'd explain that to the rest of the party."
"Tell them... I went for a swim and got lost. it's close enough to the truth."
There's definitely a tremble in his voice now; Fjord swims faster. The ship looms in front them, blotting out the stars.
When they reach the ladder, Fjord side-eyes Caduceus and gets an unpromising blank look in return. He takes Caduceus's hands in his own and curls the firbolg's fingers over the nearest rung.
"Do you need me to haul you up with me?" Fjord raises his eyebrows. Caduceus blinks and shakes his head, the haze mostly clearing from his face.
His eyes linger on Fjord's before he looks away and starts climbing--thankfully making it to the top without incident. Fjord follows quickly, pulling himself over the railing to see Caduceus wringing out his hair off to the side.
"You know, we probably should have grabbed some towels," he says, though not seemingly worried by this lack of forethought. "I think Jester was storing them next to the gunpowder in the gun deck."
"What? Why?" Fjord asks. He sighs when all he receives is a shrug from Caduceus's stoic shoulders. "Just hold on a minute, then."
They are indeed right where Caduceus had predicted. Fjord wraps one around his shoulders and clutches the other to his chest as he attempts to sneak past the still-sleeping members of the Mighty Nein. As he gets to the stairwell, he spots a bedroll next to Caduceus's that seems mournfully empty, and frowns.
They should have put that away by now. At this point, it's just taking up unnecessary space.
"Fjord?" says Caduceus, low enough to barely reach Fjord's ears, and he turns his back on the scene and starts up the stairs. Caduceus is waiting at the edge of the deck, his shoulders relaxing slightly when they spot each other. He takes the towel offered to him and begins to dry his hair as Fjord does the same.
He glances over to Caduceus after a moment and does a double-take. "Uh, Caduceus?"
The cleric looks up and lets the towel drop from his hair, strands of it pouring over his shoulders like a waterfall. Fjord squints, but the color of it doesn't change--it's still the silver-white of the moon above.
"Is your... your hair isn't usually that color, right?"
Caduceus glances down, and his face falls. "Ah, no," he says sadly. "I guess the saltwater wasn't good for it. Well. I mean. It was white, a long time ago, but I've had it dyed pink for a... a while. With my lichen."
"Oh," Fjord murmurs. It's like worm silk, or spiderweb, and he desperately wants to reach out and run his fingers through it. "Um, well," he says, collecting himself. "It looks good. Beautiful, even. I mean... it looks great either way, really."
Wild Mother. Even She can't save him now.
Caduceus gives him a half smile, graciously bypassing his stumbling. "Thanks. It'll probably grow back when we get to somewhere a little more accustomed to plants." He glances at his shoulders with a frown. "Hopefully."
For a moment, Fjord considers asking him whether it'd work in others' hair, but that's ridiculous. He can't have pink hair. ...Can he?
At least, he's not submitting himself to more embarrassment in front of Caduceus tonight. The best thing for him to do is keep his mouth shut.
Caduceus's unreadable gaze on him as he dries himself off makes that rather hard, though. It's difficult to not to ask what he sees, or what he's looking for, and Fjord is about to give in when Caduceus starts to speak.
"Do you think it helped?"
"Hm?" Fjord pauses, discarded undershirt in hand. "What do you--oh, right. The water." He considers. "I.. I think so. You reminded me of the Wild Mother. That She's within the oceans too, and being out there, it made me think She could... see me. If that makes sense. Maybe something else could too, but it was... less harsh."
Caduceus nods, like he can understand Fjord's meaning perfectly, when Fjord himself isn't even sure what he's trying to convey. It's infuriating how he does that. And wondrous.
"What about you?" Fjord asks.
Caduceus stares up at the stars while Fjord pulls his shirt on. "I said before. I'm not sure I can enjoy it like you do, when I know the things down there want to destroy me. Or you."
"But if you forget that...?"
"It's pretty. And it's nice that you like it so much."
Fjord's ears go hot. He attempts to ignore it. "Well, that's better than what you said before, I suppose."
Caduceus wraps his robe around himself and says, "It might not have been the wisest decision, but I... thank you for taking me with you."
"I wanted you there. There's nothing to thank me for."
"But I'm saying it anyway." Caduceus smiles at Fjord--the brightest he's been all night, Fjord realizes. He hadn't noticed just how dim Caduceus had gone.
"Well, you're always welcome, then," he says, smiling back on instinct. "And I do mean that literally."
"I might wait a little before I take you up on that," Caduceus admits. "That was a lot of ocean all at once."
"Not enough, I'd say."
They watch each other for a strange, charged moment before Fjord turns in the direction of the stairs below deck and wavers. The prospect of returning to his cold and unfriendly quarters seems rather unappealing, even though his eyes are beginning to ache with the need to shut.
"Fjord," says Caduceus. Slow, nothing new about that, but more hesitant than he ever is. Fjord looks back at him curiously, but his expression is quiet, aside from the downward tilt of his mouth. "You said it was lonely. Is it still?"
Fjord blinks. He wants to fold in on himself--the urge to hide from anyone who sees him is one deeply ingrained in his bones. "A... a little," he admits. There's something new growing over that urge, nurtured by his Mighty Nein and his Wild Mother.
Caduceus's ears droop. It's very sweet, and Fjord tries his best to not linger on it. "You don't have to stay there," Caduceus says. "We want you with us.
With Caduceus's violet gaze on him, it's hard to think up a coherent reply. "You're... much too cramped as it is," he manages.
"I lived in a house with six other people. Our friends have all been sleeping in close quarters for many months now." Caduceus pauses, and squints. "Is that what you're worried about, or are you worried you're going to put us in danger? Because I assure you, we can take care of ourselves. And you're much better off near us than far away."
Is that why Fjord finds himself reluctant? He isn't quite certain. Maybe that's it, or maybe he doesn't want the rest of his friends to be reminded of what happened. Or maybe there's something else.
Caduceus could probably figure it out. He often seems to understand Fjord better than Fjord understands himself, so perhaps he'll trust his judgement on this. "I... suppose so," he says reluctantly. "And--you want me to come with you? Really?"
"Of course. We worry a lot about you when you're not here."
"But what about you?"
Caduceus looks taken aback. "I," he starts. "...Yeah. I... I always want you to be there. I'll rest better, knowing you're safe."
Fjord opens and closes his mouth soundlessly before giving a shocked laugh. "Well," he says. The notion that he can't avoid this thing in his chest forever is persistently tugging at his thoughts. "I mean, how could I refuse that?"
Caduceus leans back and grins slow. "Glad to hear it," he says warmly. "There's already a place for you down there."
As Fjord follows Caduceus below decks with a slight smile, he's struck by the thought that maybe there always will be. The suggestion of permanence is a strange and frightening thought at first glance--but with Caduceus at his side, maybe he could get used to it.