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Caleb Widogast worked himself too hard.
That was pretty much a given fact, no matter the circumstances.
It wasn’t uncommon for him to get sick and to work through it, or to work himself to the point of exhaustion until Jester noticed something was wrong with their resident human.
And as lovely as Jester was, there were some things that she couldn’t take care of.
Her expertise was mostly focused on healing tieflings for one thing, since she’d only ever really spent time with her mother. She insisted she was great with minotaurs too, but that hadn’t yet been beneficial to the group. And while the little blue tiefling was learning more and more each day, she still wasn’t an expert on humans by a longshot. Beau was also ridiculously, insanely healthy. She truly had the immune system of a monk, the kind Caleb had read about as a kid who never got sick.
So Caleb tended not to bother Jester when it came to little things.
He was fine, really.
So what if he felt a little dizzy whenever he stood up the past few days, and was sniffling a bit more than usual, and had a sore throat?
He’d live.
And they were on a relatively simple mission from the Gentleman, just taking a box from one place to another.
Well, smuggling.
It was definitely smuggling, even though no one had actually opened the box and broken the seal to check. Caleb had determined it wasn’t magical and therefore didn’t particularly care. But it was good, easy money, and he spent most of the time in the back of their cart looking through Frumpkin’s eyes. The cat was a sparrow yet again, just to keep an eye on the road as they traveled, since the aerial view was quite helpful from someone relaxing in a covered cart. He needed to do something, since he wasn’t feeling well enough to keep a proper watch.
It was no good to be a burden on the others, while they were all out there being useful.
But his limbs felt a bit heavier than they ought to, fatigue weighing on him until he was drifting. It was getting cold this time of year, especially as they traveled north, but Nott had grabbed her blanket and tugged it over the both of them, her warmth seeping in and overcoming any other discomfort. At least she was resting too.
He woke to shouting, almost immediately peering into Frumpkin’s eyes and seeing bandits ambushing the cart, just as the sun was setting.
The rest of the group whirled around him like a well oiled machine, and he felt like the sticky cog that would get everyone killed as he stumbled out of the cart. That wasn’t an option, but his fire didn’t want to come to his trembling fingertips.
Caleb was far too cold and too weak, and all the inferno in his veins seemed to have disappeared.
Ikithon’s voice reverberated in his head, disappointed and cold.
Weak.
Useless.
Then one of the bandits arrow’s narrowly missed his shoulder and hit Frumpkin. The sparrow chirped and disappeared, and he felt some level of lucidity return with his anger.
So instead of his fire, he tried a new spell, the earth shaking beneath their feet as he gathered up the last of his strength. He had to do something. The cat’s paw rose up from the ground and held the leader of the bandits in a crushing grip.
Jester and Nott cheered behind him, even as he swayed on his feet from the exertion of such magic. Even Mollymauk turned around with a low whistle, probably with some compliment that was halfway to flirting, but his eyes just widened, “You alright there, Mr. Caleb?”
“Hm?” Caleb blinked, eyes heavier than they should be and taking a moment to process what the tiefling had even said. His vision was starting to spin, but he had to answer. He’d fought well, and that was enough. He didn’t want to bother anyone. “Oh, ja.”
Yasha was taking a final swipe at the man trapped in Caleb’s arcane cat paw, and he was ready to keel over. Waking up suddenly hadn’t helped Caleb feel any better, and all he wanted to do was lie down.
“Let’s set up camp over in those trees,” Fjord said, pointing to a small outcropping nearby. “We can get some cover in case any of these guys had friends.”
“Sounds good. Yasha, you want firewood duty?” Beau asked, not so subtly trying to get some time alone with her.
Yasha just shrugged and wandered off with Beau at her heels.
“Caleb, are you doing alright?” Nott asked quietly, taking his hand.
Molly was still watching Caleb too, clearly not having believed his lie. But he wasn’t watching too carefully, and had busied himself setting up the cart to be taken to the little thicket.
“I’m alright, Nott,” he said softly, ignoring how her hand felt like fire in his, too warm and too gentle all at once.
Jester frowned, “Do you need some healing? I didn’t see you get hit.”
“Nein, I-I think I just have a cold. Some sleep is all I need,” he mumbled, cheeks heating at all the attention. He pulled his bedroll off his pack. “Where are we setting up?”
“Over here. Can you get the fire started?” Fjord asked, directing them all to a good place to camp with Jester at his side, helping him since they were one of the only two to see in the dark.
Caleb gingerly laid out his bedroll and took a deep breath.
He didn’t want to be seen as weak, but he was barely making sparks. “Ah, I’m sorry. Does… Does anyone have a tinderbox?” he asked, hating how his voice almost trembled as badly as his hands. Weakling. Useless. Worthless.
“We’ve got it, Caleb, you just get some rest, yeah?” Nott said, sitting him down on a fallen log that Jester had dragged over.
He didn’t have the strength to argue, even as Jester looked him over and declared he just needed rest and good sleep.
~
Caleb looked like shit, and even Molly noticed.
Nott was worried sick, and everyone else was on edge too. The man was shivering, barely able to help them make a campfire, and Jester didn't know how to help beyond declaring this a common human and halfling disease. She said rest would help, but her voice wavered a bit in the way it did whenever she tried to lie.
"Jester, go sit with him," Nott said, pointing an accusatory finger at her.
Jester blinked from where she was helping Fjord sort through their rations for some semblance of dinner. The bandits had been carrying some food too, but it was mostly stale. "How would that help? I'm out of spells, remember?"
"Tieflings run hot, right? He's going to freeze!"
Jester rolled her eyes at the little goblin girl. "I run cold. Not all tieflings are the same, Nott. There's all kinds of demons in the world."
Nott deflated. "Oh. You then," she pointed at Molly.
He snorted, rolling his eyes as he stood. "Always nice to be someone's second choice."
Nott rolled her eyes right back, but didn't argue as Molly settled next to her boy by the shoddy fire. "How you feeling, Mr. Caleb?"
All Molly received in response was a small grunt. "Such an amazing conversationalist," he said, gently bumping his shoulder into Caleb's.
The look he got from the tired wizard was withering. The dark bags under his eyes didn't help, and Molly felt a pang of sympathy for him. "C'mon, I'm not that bad. And cuddling with me'll warm you up right away," he said, keeping his tone light and teasing, like he always did with Caleb.
Any venom in Caleb’s look disappeared in favor of pure exhaustion. "I do not want to get you sick."
"Jester said this is common in humans and halflings, yeah? Just don't cough on Beau and we'll be golden." Molly wasn’t exactly sure Jester was right about that either, but Caleb looked like he needed a good snuggle. He leaned forward, snaking an arm around Caleb's waist while he had the chance and whispered conspiratorially, "Between you and me, I think she'd be insufferable while sick."
At that, Caleb actually chuckled, but the laugh quickly turned to a painful, almost wet sounding cough. Molly winced in sympathy and rubbed Caleb's back.
"You're too kind to me. I'll be alright," Caleb mumbled, hoarse now.
Molly shook his head. "Raise your hand for me?"
It shook like a leaf in the wind, unsteady and unconvincing. Either Caleb was freezing, or too weak to hold it steady. "See?" Molly said, tucking Caleb’s head against his shoulder and rubbing his arm for some warmth through friction. "You need taking care of. And since we don't have a medical tent, a cute tiefling or two will have to do."
Caleb sighed deeply but didn’t pull away, even when Molly had to take his hand back to eat the dinner that Fjord and Yasha had finished throwing together. Beau was busy writing in her journal, and Jester had abandoned food prep to document the day in her sketchbook. Judging from how she looked over at Molly and Caleb every few seconds she was immortalizing their forced cuddling session.
Molly might want a copy of that.
But for now he just pulled the blanket out of his pack and wrapped it over the both of them while the others chatted idly, waiting for Caleb to finish his food. The man had stopped shivering so badly, which was probably a good thing.
He started purring, watching as Caleb finally completely relaxed in his grip and began to doze on his shoulder.
Ah.
That was cute.
Eventually he helped Caleb to his bedroll and got him bundled up with Nott’s bedroll right beside. They were close enough to the fire for Caleb to gain some of its warmth, despite its shoddy construction. Molly stayed close on the first watch, but succumbed to sleep himself when Yasha shooed him off to bed.
~
Bren was freezing.
His throat burned and every cough felt like swallowing down needles.
He could feel the cold stone of the crumbling, abandoned tower underneath him and the biting chill that always got in through the boarded up windows, and he shuffled closer into Astrid’s slight form. Sunlight had yet to lighten the room, which meant Ikithon wouldn’t come for them any time soon. It was frigid.
"Astrid?" he murmured, wincing at his hoarseness as he tried to move closer. "Wo ist Wulf?"
They shouldn't be alone. They needed to stick together, to stay safe.
"Caleb?"
Oh.
Not Astrid at all.
"Nott?"
"I'm right here, Caleb. Do you need anything?"
"Es ist kalt," he murmured, barely able to translate his thoughts. "Cold."
"Right, of course. C'mere," she said, though she was the one who moved closer and pulled him gently until he was sitting up. Even moving ached, but when he tried to protest he only devolved into coughing. "Can you drink a little water for me?"
He struggled, trembling like a leaf and unable to even hold the water skein steady. The water was cold, stinging his throat.
Very vaguely, he heard her calling for someone, and then felt warmth on his other side.
Some of the tension left his shoulders as he turned towards the heat. Wulf was here too. The three of them were safe, so long as they didn’t freeze to death. "Did he hurt you?"
"Did who hurt me?" A warm arm snaked around his waist with the accompanying soft voice.
"Master Ikithon…" Bren, no, Caleb, blinked his eyes open. Where was he? "Wulf?"
Purple.
Red.
"I wasn't a wolf the last time I checked, though I do have fangs." Molly grinned at him.
Wulf never smiled like that.
He held him like this though, warm and steady.
The present and the past overlapped and mixed together and nothing made sense. The floor was hard, cold stone, but he could see a campfire. "Es ist so kalt, Wulf," he muttered. "Ich kann meine Finger nicht fühlen."
This was bad.
He really ought to be able to make a flame, to bring some feeling back to his fingertips. If he lost his hands, he'd be useless to Master Ikithon.
He couldn't even feel his fire.
Weak.
Useless.
Worthless.
Strong, warm arms pulled him closer. Wulf was warmer than usual, and Bren sought it out, practically crawling in his lap. Wulf never made him feel useless. Together, they could make it through this, and Bren wanted that warmth as close as possible.
It wasn't anything he hadn't done before, though Wulf let out a surprised little sound. "Wulf," he sighed, enjoying the rare heat. It was nicer than his fire.
"I'm not that picky, dear, but it's still just Molly."
Mollymauk.
The name tickled something in his brain, but Wulf was warm and sleep was too tempting. Wulf would protect him, wake him if necessary.
~
Caleb had crawled in his lap.
Caleb was curled up against his chest, finally stopping some of his trembling, but calling him a wolf. Delirious and still cold to the touch, Molly wasn't sure what to do. Most of the others were asleep, and Caleb seemed worse than he had a few hours ago.
Nott had grabbed a blanket and swaddled it around the two of them, shooting Molly a warning glare about trying anything. As much as he liked flirting with Caleb, he was mostly worried about the man being shivering and sick. Molly wasn't about to cop a feel when Caleb didn't even know who he was.
But it was still nice, holding the wizard closer than he'd ever been able to before. Caleb was softer around the edges these days, with the regular meals and general exercising of walking from place to place.
"Caleb?" he asked softly.
There was a soft sound, then Caleb asked back, "Caleb? Wer ist das?"
"I'm not your wolf, dear. I don't speak Zemnian."
"He can't hear us up here. We can speak Zemnian." That was the second time Caleb had mentioned a “he,” though Molly wasn’t sure who the fuck an “Ikithon” was. It didn’t sound good.
"I can't, dear. I'm not your wolf," he repeated gently. “But you should probably lie down again.”
Caleb shook his head minutely. “Too cold. You’re talkative today.”
“I’m always like this, love. You’re a little confused.”
He just hummed, brow furrowed and still shivering while tucked under Molly’s chin. Caleb wasn’t usually this touchy feely. Even with Nott, the wizard was sparing with affection. Occasional head pats, held hands, or shoulder squeezes seemed to be the extent of Caleb’s casual affection, and this was drastically far from the norm. Not that Molly was complaining.
Eventually Molly coaxed Caleb back inside his bedroll, tucking it around the two of them for the best heat retention. Caleb nuzzled closer, warming a bit but still not gaining any lucidity. The winter air didn’t help, so Molly kept him tucked under his chin, swaddled completely in his natural warmth.
Molly fell asleep with Caleb clinging to him, occasionally shivering or waking just to cough. It was a pretty restless night with Molly petting Caleb’s hair back and trying to do what he could to soothe him. He wasn’t used to humans. At the carnival there was only Desmond, who always stayed with Gustav or kept to himself.
They were very pretty, but so fragile. Desmond’s scars had been more noticeable than Caleb’s, but they both were just very squishy. It was second nature to stand in front of Caleb when they began to fight. Despite Caleb’s power, physically he could still probably get taken out by a strong gust of wind, or one of Beau’s well intended shoulder punches.
With Caleb tangled up in blankets alongside him, Molly was eventually comfortable enough to purr, despite the cold. Frumpkin would normally do the same to lull the wizard to sleep, and it got them through to the morning.
Sun cresting in the sky, Molly rubbed the sleep from his eyes and inspected the wizard still clinging to him.
Nott shot another look at him and he just rolled his eyes, rubbing Caleb’s back. “Morning, Mr. Caleb.”
“Five more minutes, Wulf,” Caleb mumbled, arms snugly around his waist even as Molly sat them both up. As nice as it was to have his bed partner still be there when he woke up, this still left something to be desired.
Caleb barely woke up at all as Molly brought him back in front of the fire. The morning winter chill was bitter and there was a light frost on Jester’s eyelashes when she finally woke up, the latest riser of them all.
“Morning!” she said over a big yawn, her night shirt lifting up to show a sliver of her blue stomach that Molly mostly saw as cute, but he could see Fjord blushing and very pointedly turning away to sort through their rations. Jester was none the wiser, still waking up and shuffling over to sit by Caleb’s other side on the log near the campfire. Said campfire wasn’t exactly warm, just burning embers.
Caleb shivered as Jester’s cold body brushed up against him and she felt his forehead. “Oh, Caleb, you’re burning up!” she said with a frown.
But Caleb just shook his head, pulling back from her cold hands and almost landing back in Molly’s lap. “S’too cold.”
Jester frowned, grabbing her symbol of the traveler and pumping a healing spell through him that brought a little color back to his cheeks. “Is that better?”
Caleb nodded but still looked exhausted, leaning heavily into Molly’s side.
Nott threw another log on the fire, trying to poke it back to life without Caleb’s magic.
Frustrated, she just left it on the embers and moved over to where Fjord and Beau were looking at what they could have that might pass for breakfast. "We need to get Caleb inside somewhere warm. He's going to freeze to death out here," Nott hissed, staying quiet although there was no way Caleb could hear them. He didn’t seem to be aware of much of anything, halfway through another coughing fit.
“Alright, alright, tomorrow we should hit Deastock,” Fjord said, pulling out the map. “Most of us can head to the Grumpy Lily to drop off the package, and someone can go with Caleb and the cart to find an inn.”
Molly shrugged, “I’ll go. I’ve been babysitting anyway. And Nott’s too small to carry him around, no offense.”
Fjord nodded and began to discuss the plan with the others. Narrowing her eyes, Nott nodded slowly, but didn’t press. Quietly Molly was glad no one questioned any ulterior motives. It wasn’t like he expected someone else from Lucien’s life to find him in another seedy Myriad bar, but he wasn’t about to try again. Finding a nice place to stay with Caleb sounded vastly preferable to a repeat of the whole Cree debacle.
“We could travel through the night. Casters could sleep in the cart and the rest can just keep going,” Beau said with a shrug. “I’m alright to pull an all-nighter if we can sleep tomorrow.”
Fjord said, “I’ll be fine as well. Maybe Beau, Yasha, Nott, and I can handle the trade off and you all can get some rest.”
Yasha nodded at their side, never one to need coddling.
“I can trail you guys, invisible, on the way to the Grumpy Lily, and come get Molly if something goes wrong,” Nott said, still watching how Caleb still shivered against Molly in the cold morning air.
“I can sneak along with you and cast a spell to keep us better hidden!” Jester chirped. “Unless you need me to find the inn?” she asked Molly.
He shrugged, “As long as you leave me the cart and point me in the right direction I’m sure I can find it.”
“It’s a plan then.” Fjord nodded, rolling up the map.
Molly left Nott to tempt Caleb into the cart, beginning to pack up their things. Caleb only stumbled two steps before Yasha scooped him up and placed him in the back of of their cart
~
They were moving.
He was pretty sure they were moving, but that didn’t make any sense.
Did the abandoned tower Ikithon locked them away in ever move?
That was a new one, Bren was pretty sure.
Ikithon probably could move a tower, but likely wouldn’t do so just for a punishment. Bren couldn't even remember what they’d done. He couldn't tell what time it was; he could barely open his eyes.
Normally he, Astrid, and Wulf were just thrown in here overnight, to strengthen them, to make sure they could survive in difficult settings. They were good at that, surviving.
Perhaps the moving tower was a test, however unlikely that may be.
Still, he felt north moving slowly from one side to the other as they traveled.
Cold fingers ran over his throat, a Nicodranian accent accompanying the soothing sensation. He didn’t cough any more, but he could feel the shivers wraking through his body.
Someone was warm against his side, rubbing his arm as they moved. They were too muscled for Astrid, but he could feel scars on the arm.
Wulf, then.
He wasn’t alone, but he still worried.
“Wo ist Astrid?” he whispered softly, voice hoarse from coughing.
“Who’s Astrid?” they asked.
He blinked.
Not Wulf.
Someone with tattoos, all wrapped up in a blanket with him.
“Oh, isn’t Astrid like, his old girlfriend?”
That was the Nicodranian accent. Where was he?
“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
There was a pleasant lilt to the voice of the person holding him, but Bren couldn’t place it.
Before he could worry about it too much, a deep, rumbling purr filled his ears and lulled him back to sleep.
~
Molly half carried Caleb into the Rose Nestle Inn, finally getting him tucked into a soft bed. "There you go, Mr. Caleb. Better than a shitty bedroll, right?"
Caleb made a soft sound and Molly went to throw another log on the fire. When he came back, Caleb looked mostly asleep already. He pulled the blankets up higher and turned to go, leaving the wizard in peace. Maybe he’d go sit in the tavern downstairs and wait for the others to come back. Someone had to have a cask of ale nearby, though he wasn’t sure he could actually bring himself to go too far from their sick wizard. He’d stay in earshot, for sure, at least until the others returned.
A hand weakly wrapped around his own. "Stay? Bitte, Wulf."
Molly paused and the hand tugged feebly. "I won't tell him. It's just cold, ja?" Caleb murmured, blue eyes startlingly clear for someone calling him by the wrong name. Normally that would rub him the wrong way, but he was pretty sure Caleb could get away with murder with that look. Those blue eyes were dangerous.
Molly's heart ached in his chest, and he only hesitated a moment. Caleb never asked for anything like comfort. Often it seemed he purposefully hurt himself.
Tomorrow, Molly would deal with the consequences of his actions.
Now, he'd curl up with the cute wizard who was nuzzling into him like a cat, and ignore the rest of the world. "Yeah," he mumbled, petting Caleb’s hair back away from his eyes, "we won't tell him."
Caleb settled at that, an arm around Molly's waist and his cheek pressed into the silky fabric of his shirt. Molly shivered as Caleb's lips pressed his collarbone. "Missed you, Wulf."
“I guess it’s nice to know you can be real sweet when you try,” Molly said. “But I worry what you’ll think when you’re lucid.”
The wizard didn’t respond with anything but a small snore.
Molly kicked off his boots and pulled another blanket up over the two of them, since Caleb had wormed his way out of the last one to hug him.
He tried to figure out exactly what he was feeling while Caleb calmed.
His heart was beating a little faster than normal, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to fool around, not with his bed partner just sleeping platonically on him. Well, platonically other than the little almost kiss to his neck.
Molly was no stranger to rolling in the hay, but this was different. There was something tender in the way Caleb acted with his wolf, but Molly didn’t exactly think he was feeling jealousy either. There was something nice about knowing that Caleb could be this soft with someone, that he’d had someone like this.
Maybe he and Caleb could be like this, someday, when a few of the walls the man had built up around himself had crumbled down.
He wasn’t really sure what he was feeling, but knowing how long Caleb took to warm to things while sober and lucid, he’d have time to figure it all out.
For now, this was nice.
Caleb would probably have a more elegant word than “nice” for it all, if he was awake, but he was asleep. He was asleep, and Molly had been looking after him all day and all night, to the point of exhaustion himself, even though he’d gotten more sleep than the others.
It felt right to fall asleep with Caleb, snugly in blankets and safe in his arms. He could keep a much better eye on him this way, and there was a strange level of fatigue weighing on him after the long day.
~
Caleb was warm.
He could feel his fire thrumming through his veins, he could feel too soft blankets wrapped around him that certainly weren’t his, and he could feel hands holding him close to a very, very warm chest.
All at once the sensation was overwhelming, burning, lovely and terrifying all at once.
His sharp intake of breath was enough to wake the person he clung to. “Hi there, Mr. Caleb. You remember who I am yet?”
“I–” he winced, starting over after clearing his sore throat, “I am very sorry, Mollymauk.”
“What for?” Molly asked, some of his usual teasing tone gone from his voice.
Caleb’s idea of what exactly had happened since the last time he was fully lucid was quite hazy, but given that he thought he was cuddling with Wulf for almost all of it, he could only assume he’d made a nuisance of himself while he was sick. “For inconveniencing you. I’m feeling better now,” he said, sitting up and putting a little distance between them, though he almost immediately missed the warmth.
Molly just shrugged. “You’re no bother. I got to lie here instead of scrounging around in the Grumpy Lily. I’d rather roll around in a bed with you than fuck around with the Myriad any day.”
A dark flush came up to Caleb’s cheeks as he shifted even further back, grabbing the water skein as an excuse not to dignify that with a response.
Molly just chuckled, propping himself up on a pillow. “You didn’t miss much. Nott’s worried about you, the other’s are dropping off that stupid box. Should be back any minute actually.”
“Caleb!” The door to their room flew open dramatically as Jester grinned at him. “You look so much better!”
“Speak of the devil,” Molly smiled back, all fang and gravitas as he teased the other tiefling.
Nott rushed over to Caleb’s side. “Are you alright?”
“Much better, Schatz. Sorry for being such a nuisance.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. A few hours of good sleep in a soft bed seemed to be all he really needed. But he also very much wanted to turn the conversation and all the eyes away from him.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” she insisted, still looking worried.
Fjord nodded, thankfully changing the subject. He pulled out the map, ready to plot out their next few days. “We’re just glad you’re alright. It’s no good when one of us isn’t feeling up to snuff. Now we can travel back while everyone’s feeling strong and healthy.”
Before anyone could answer, behind Caleb, Molly sneezed.
Beau just snorted. “Well, fuck.”