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I’m doing a balancing act with a stack of fresh fruit
in my basket. I love you. I want us both to eat well.
-- "Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled With Shrieks", Christopher Citro
Caduceus pokes his head out from the kitchen at the sound of the brief rapping on the door. He thinks he might know who it is already from the knock alone. He goes to open the door, the chimes ringing above his head in response.
Just as he thought – it’s Essek, floating over their porch with his usual cool smile firmly in place.
“Well, hello,” Caduceus says, smiling. “What can I do for you, Mr. Shadowhand?”
“Good afternoon, Caduceus.” Essek’s manners are as impeccable as always. “My apologies for my unexpected visit. I come bearing a token from the Bright Queen.”
“No bother at all. Would you like to come in?” Caduceus opens the door wider. He doesn’t expect Essek to agree, but it never hurts to ask.
To his surprise, Essek consents to enter the Xhorhaus, lingering only a few moments to remove his boots by the door.
“You know, you don’t have to do that,” Caduceus says mildly.
“Ah, but I do not wish to be rude. It seems this is a custom you keep?”
Essek nods toward the haphazard array of shoes. Caleb’s are at one end, lined up with almost mathematical precision next to Caduceus’. Veth’s and Yeza’s are comically small in between Yasha’s rugged snowboots and Fjord’s salt-stained shoes. Jester’s are flecked with red and blue paint around the toes. Beau’s muddy boots are simply lying in the middle of the entryway with half the laces undone, as though she had toed them off impatiently and run straight upstairs.
Essek’s fashionable shoes look even more sleek than usual next to the worn brown leather of Caleb’s boots. Caduceus supposes it helps a lot that Essek never actually has to walk in them.
“Whatever makes you feel comfortable. Let me get your cloak,” Caduceus says. He hangs up Essek’s cloak next to his own, and makes a mental note to sort out the long tear in Fjord’s coat later. “I’ll make us some tea.”
He leads Essek to the dining table so he can sit down, before heading to the kitchen to put the kettle on. But to Caduceus’ surprise, he turns to see Essek hovering behind him.
It’s hard to miss the way his fingers are twisting together in a motion that seems almost like a somatic gesture, but Essek doesn’t seem to be aware that he’s doing it at all. It tells Caduceus the movement is born of long habit, so easily concealed beneath the imposing exterior of an elegant mantle that Essek has never bothered to hide it.
Caduceus’ brow furrows as he tries to think of something to put Essek at ease. “We’ve got a lot of options here. Go ahead, choose something you like.”
He nods towards the jars of tea leaves sitting on the counter. Caleb labeled them a few days ago after Fjord had accidentally made himself tea with the bay leaves, which he absolutely loathes.
Essek leans closer, studying the labels intently. Caduceus wonders if he’s reading the labels or admiring the penmanship.
“What is… a mollymauk?” Essek asks. “Something from the Empire?”
“Oh, no.” Caduceus smiles. “Just my special blend. It’s nice. They named it after an old friend of theirs. Keeping his memory alive, and all.”
Essek glances up at that, his eyes widening just a little. “I am very sorry for your loss,” he says after a pause. “Forgive me if I had overstepped. I had not known –”
“Don’t mention it,” Caduceus says, waving a hand. “Or really, you know what? Mention him any time. The others will always be happy to talk your ear off about Molly. I never had the chance to meet him myself, but it’s obvious from their stories why they miss him so much.”
When Essek’s gaze drops back to the jar, there’s something strangely wistful in his violet eyes. “I’d like to try that tea, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Good choice. I think you’ll like that one. Delicate flavor, a little more on the floral side of things.”
Caduceus sets out two mugs and turns off the kettle just before the water starts boiling. He measures the tea out into the strainers and pours the water slowly over the dried buds and leaves.
The Mollymauk blend is finicky and takes some practice to steep just right, but Caduceus knows putting in just a little more effort makes a world of difference. Essek watches him quietly, his slim fingers still unconsciously tangling together in the same repetitive motion.
“I don’t suppose you’ve made much tea in your life, have you, Mr. Shadowhand?”
“Essek,” he says quickly, not answering the question. “Just… just Essek will do. No need to stand on ceremony in your own home.”
“In that case, while we’re on the topic of standing, there’s really no need for you to float in our home, either,” Caduceus says, smiling to soften the blow.
As he expected, Essek freezes. But to his credit, it would have been very difficult for even Caduceus to tell if Essek’s ears hadn’t given him away, pinning themselves flat against his head for a split second before he regained his usual composure. Caduceus takes pity on him and nudges a mug in his direction to give him something else to focus on.
Essek relaxes enough to accept the tea with murmured thanks, cupping it carefully between his palms. His socked feet descend silently onto the ground. Like this, he looks much smaller than usual. Vulnerable, even, if Caduceus hadn’t already seen the power those elegant hands can wield.
He waits as Essek lifts the mug to his lips, and wonders if he will actually drink it this time instead of just politely wetting his lips the way he often does.
“Oh,” Essek says, surprise coloring his voice. “That’s quite lovely.”
Caduceus counts that as a win. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”
He leads them back to the dining room and lets Essek choose a seat for himself at the table. He ends up sitting at one corner, so Caduceus takes the chair catty-corner from him at the end of the table.
They drink their tea quietly for a few moments. Caduceus watches Essek’s ear flick in response to a sudden burst of conversation from upstairs before a door is slammed shut. Maybe Essek is waiting for the others to come downstairs?
“You said you had something from the Bright Queen?” Caduceus prompts him gently. “Should I call the others?”
Essek shakes his head. “Please don’t interrupt them on my account. This is only a small gift, but the Bright Queen wished me to present this to you all, as heroes of the Dynasty.”
His hand moves in a smooth gesture to open a pocket dimension around his wrist. From its depths, he lifts out a silken bag filled with what looks like several round objects of identical size. He closes up the seam in the fabric of the universe he’s created with a flick of his fingers before he extends the silken bag to Caduceus with both hands.
“Oh,” Caduceus says. He mirrors Essek and accepts the bag with both palms extended. “Thank you. May I open it?”
“Please.”
Caduceus unties the bag and peers inside. From the bag, he withdraws an orange, just the right size to fit into his palm, its vibrant skin perfect and unblemished.
“This is a surprise,” he says. He isn’t sure what he had been expecting a royal gift to be, but it certainly wasn’t a bag of fruit. Not that he’s complaining in the least, of course. “Please tell the Bright Queen we’re very grateful. Is there an occasion for these? Do they have any particular meaning?”
“Ah.” Essek ponders this for a moment. “Oranges are highly prized in the Dynasty since they require so much sunlight and heat to thrive, both of which are hard to come by here in Xhorhas. It is a sign of great friendship to be given fruit so blessed by the Luxon’s light.”
“That’s really nice of her,” Caduceus says happily. “We’re very thankful.”
Essek inclines his head courteously as Caduceus puts the silken bag down on the table. He’s only ever had oranges a few times himself, but they remind him of days spent in the sunlight with his siblings, when they were young enough that they still needed to be minded by their mother.
He holds the orange out to Essek. “Do you mind if I…?”
Essek’s eyebrows lift a fraction. “Not at all,” he says. “The Bright Queen would be pleased to know you enjoyed it, I think.”
Caduceus digs his thumbs into the rind, and when he pierces the skin, a delicious aroma fills the air – he does not miss the way Essek’s thin chest rises and falls, inhaling deeply.
He begins peeling the orange methodically in strips, placing the skin down on the table pith side up. Essek takes a long sip of his tea in evident enjoyment. Truthfully, Caduceus is surprised he’s even managed to get Essek to stay this long.
A muted explosion from somewhere above them makes them both look up. Essek catches Caduceus’ eye and smiles. It’s a different smile this time, smaller, softer around the edges.
A familiar clatter follows, telling Caduceus that Jester is on her way down the stairs.
“Caaaad!” she yells. Caduceus imagines that somewhere nearby, Lord Biylan is gnashing his teeth at the noise. “Cad, have you seen my – oh, hey Essek! I didn’t know you were coming by, when did you get here?”
Caduceus’ lips twitch. “We had those chimes installed for a reason, you know.”
“I was busy drawing!” she protests, nose scrunching in a way that reminds him very much of Clarabelle when she’s pouting.
“Hello, Jester. It’s quite alright. I arrived a few minutes ago.”
Essek is staring at her with the owlish gaze of utter confusion he so often wears when he’s in the Xhorhaus. Caduceus suppresses a laugh. Jester nearly throws herself at him to give him a hug – she manages to restrain herself only because her hands and arms are dusty with charcoal.
“The Bright Queen gave us a present,” Caduceus says, holding up the fruit to distract her.
It works. Jester’s eyes brighten. “Oh my god, I love oranges! Mama and I would eat them back home in Nicodranas all the time.”
Caduceus splits the orange in two. He peels a segment free and holds it out to Jester. She leans forward to take it from his fingers with her mouth, her eyes closing in bliss. “These are my favorite,” she announces to the world at large, her hands flapping in excitement. “Thank you so much, Essek! And tell the Queen we all say thank you!”
“I will,” Essek promises, amused.
There’s a sound like a door being kicked open, and their heads all turn in the direction of the hallway – Beau appears out of nowhere with a stack of books in her arms.
“I thought I smelled something,” she says triumphantly. “Fuck, I haven’t had oranges in forever.”
She dashes up to Caduceus and opens her mouth expectantly, rather like a baby bird. Essek blinks as Caduceus puts an entire quarter of the orange directly in her mouth.
“Holy shit, this is so good,” she says loudly, the words muffled by orange.
“I know!” Jester is dancing around the table in delight, pausing only to let Caduceus feed her another piece of fruit.
“Oh hey, Essek,” Beau says, finally noticing Essek for the first time. “Didn’t see you there.”
“Good afternoon, Beauregard,” he says.
“You know, in most places it’s polite to serve guests first,” Caduceus says to Beau and Jester. He gets identical sticky grins in response.
“Come on, Cad, it’s just Essek,” Beau says, rolling her eyes. “He practically lives here. It’s fine.” She puts the books down on the dining table with a thud so she can cuff Essek hard on the shoulder, and he winces. Jester is already protesting on his behalf, but Beau barrels on. “Besides, you’ve had oranges before, haven’t you?”
There’s a pause, long enough for it to grow uncomfortable.
“I haven’t, in fact,” Essek says quietly.
“What?” Jester’s eyes widen. “Why not?”
“Yeah, Den Thelyss is super fancy and stuff, isn’t it? I mean, your parents could definitely have afforded –”
“My mama used to buy them all the time –”
Essek is silent, his hands clasped too tightly around his mug of tea.
This won’t do.
Caduceus splits the last of the orange in two and holds out the larger half to Essek, who accepts it tentatively with the very tips of his fingers, as though he’s unsure what to do with it.
“Better late than never,” Caduceus says, smiling, just as another door slams open somewhere in the hall.
“Beauregard! I need one of those books you – oh.” Caleb appears in the doorway, faintly surprised at the commotion. “I didn’t know we had a guest.”
“Essek’s not a guest,” Jester says impatiently. “He’s family!”
Out of the corner of Caduceus’ eye, he notices Essek’s shoulders drop as he exhales quietly, as though freed of some weight he hadn’t known he was carrying until it had been lifted.
Meanwhile, Beau has snuck up beside Caduceus and stolen another orange from the bag before he can say anything. He silently prays to the Wildmother that she isn’t about to do something that Essek is going to find deeply offensive.
“Hey, Caleb! Catch!”
She lobs the orange into the air with unerring aim, and it lands neatly in Caleb’s palms. His eyes go round as dinner plates.
“Is this… an orange?”
“Hell yeah,” Beau says, grinning.
“I’ve never had an orange before,” he says with the kind of wonder Caduceus associates with someone seeing the stars in all their shimmering glory in the clear night sky.
Jester takes his arm and drags him into the room, firmly seating him in the chair next to Essek. Caduceus thinks about reminding her about her dirty hands, but Caleb’s all covered in ink anyway – a bit of charcoal won’t make much difference.
“Okay, Cay-leb,” she says, stretching out the syllables affectionately. “You sit here so we can watch you and Essek try an orange for the first time.”
Caleb turns to Essek, lips parted in shock. “You’ve never had an orange before?”
“I do not see why this is so surprising to you all,” Essek says tartly.
“My parents were dirt poor,” Caleb says, his voice matter-of-fact. “We could never have afforded such a luxury.”
Jester's brows knit together. “Luxury?”
“They’re probably a lot cheaper in Nicodranas, Jes.” Beau shrugs. “They grow around there, don’t they?”
“Oh, yeah. That's true. Or my mama probably got a lot of them as gifts.” Jester plops herself down in the chair across Essek with an expectant look on her face.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Beau demands. “Try it, try it!”
“My hands are filthy, Beauregard.” Caleb has a spatter of ink across one cheek, too, not just on his hands. He must have been very engrossed in his studying. “Will you at least let me –”
“Essek, give Caleb some of your orange,” Jester interrupts.
The wide-eyed expression crosses Essek’s face again, only this time it’s closer to panic than bewilderment. “I… I –”
“No worries, I can show you,” Caduceus intercedes, before Essek can decide that it’s time for him to flee. “It’s simple, really. Just take a piece like this.” He demonstrates for Essek, pulling a piece of orange free from the quarter he still has left with gentle fingers. “And then you go ahead and pop that piece right into your mouth,” Caduceus concludes, and does just that. The orange bursts into flavor in his mouth, sweet and tangy all at once. It’s delicious.
“I see,” Essek says cautiously. He’s very careful about not puncturing the orange’s membrane – in the time it takes him to separate a segment, Beau is already halfway through peeling another orange. “Like this?” he asks, his eyes bright.
“Yep!” Jester beams, delighted. “Okay, you go ahead and give that to Caleb.”
Caduceus doesn’t know how Jester does it. She has the whole world wrapped around her little finger, present company included. He eats the rest of his share of the fruit, enjoying himself as Beau joins in on the teasing. It makes him think of home.
Essek obediently lifts the slice of orange to Caleb’s mouth, blushing so hard that his skin is a dusky shade of plum. It’s a very nice color, really.
“You don’t have to actually do it,” Caleb murmurs, but he’s smiling ear to ear, pink-cheeked.
“It is fun to do though.” Jester slyly drops an eyelid, which Caleb misses because he’s too occupied with gazing at the unfortunate recipient of Jester’s wink.
Essek flushes impossibly darker, but he places the segment on Caleb’s tongue, fingers feather-light. They all watch as Caleb bites down, his eyes widening when the juice floods his mouth.
“Oh,” he says faintly. “That is… that is very good. Try it yourself, my friend.”
At their behest, Essek finally puts a piece of orange in his mouth, still hesitant, still unconvinced. But when he chews, the smile on his face is as bright as the sun.