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Caleb Widogast sat in a quiet corner of a crowded tavern, polishing off the third in a series of bad decisions and watching Nott The Brave in her element.
She circled the rowdy dance hall, weaving and ducking and bobbing, stopping when she could to pull at a loose drawstring or stick her hand into a pocket, never staying in one spot long enough to be touched or noticed. Although she did not follow the steps of the heavy feet falling around her, the grace and precision of her movements were a dance of their own. Her skill was becoming more and more evident as the night wore on and people became drunker: the movements of partners swinging their sweethearts across the floor became increasingly erratic, but none of them even once ran into Nott.
What would happen, exactly, if he were to get up and ask her to join in the dance? Not for the first time, Caleb ran himself through the list of outcomes in his head. Nott may not even be interested in dancing with him. They could draw more attention to themselves and get caught.
Or…it could go well. He would sweep Nott up in his arms, laugh at her surprised yelp. She’d tease him about knowing all the country dances but would learn them quickly and enthusiastically anyway. Nott, he suspected, would be a wonderful dancer.
The image in his head crystallized now. Nott smiled, whirled around him. He held her close enough to feel the frantic beat of her little heart, for once outside the cover of nighttime. Her ears, in his mind's eye, were unbound, and they flew out behind her as she spun. Her eyes gleamed in the dark light of the dancehall. She laughed, and he reached out…
And that was quite enough of that. Such thoughts could only lead to a place that Caleb did not want to be going in a public venue. Besides, in the midst of his selfish fantasy he had lost track of the real Nott The Brave. Scanning the mass of quickly-moving revelers revealed her across the room, slipping another valuable trinket from a richly patterned purse. She caught Caleb’s eye, gave him a wink, and melted back into the crowd. With the rate she was going, they would more likely than not be able to afford a room that night. Caleb huffed a laugh and turned back to his stein of terrible choices, trying to ignore the way his heart flip-flopped at the prospect of sharing a bed with his friend.
Before long, Nott had finished her business on the dance floor and come to join him in his quiet corner. The two of them spent a pleasant hour or so on nothing in particular. They giggled at imagined backstories for the patrons around them, brainstormed a way to integrate Nott’s newest spell into their cons, and gloated, subtly, over the treasures hidden in her bag, deciding together to spring for a room. Before Caleb knew it, the hour had grown late, and many of the tavern-goers began filtering out to stumble home or to their own rented rooms. It was time for them to do the same.
Caleb reached down to squeeze Nott’s shoulder playfully as they approached the bar, still riding slightly high on the luck and victories of the night and the prospect of affording an actual bed. The tavern-keeper was a middle-aged woman displaying a truly impressive ability to ignore the chaos around her in favor of the open book on her lap. Its cover, he noted absently, showed two angry and scantily-clad young women locked in a tight embrace, blades held to each other's throats. Caleb cleared his throat to get her attention, kept his eyes down, and asked in the usual nondescript tone, “Ah, Hello. My companion and I were hoping to rent a room for the night, if you have one still available?”
The woman frowned in confusion. Caleb realized that with the height of the table she hadn't yet noticed Nott’s presence. She leaned forward and gasped, and Caleb saw disaster striking before she had even opened her mouth. He followed her gaze and saw exactly what he feared and expected: Nott's mask was down, her sharp goblin features on full display.
“We don’t serve things like that here,” the in-keep sneered, curling her lip and raising her brow. “How did it get in? It’s going to hurt somebody!”
Caleb could see the panic building in the woman’s eyes. They had only seconds before she called for the guard. His mind went into overdrive.
A full second now. Frantically, he racked his brain, looking for a solution that wouldn’t end up with the two of them in jail or sleeping in the woods again.
Two seconds and a half. This was all his fault. He was supposed to be the grounded one in these schemes, the one watching his partner’s back, and yet once again he had been so caught up in his own self-pity that he failed to notice how Nott hadn't put her disguise back on.
Three seconds. Wait. Disguise. Nott and her new spell. The romance novel. But would it work?
In the split-second before the inn-keep’s mouth opened, he decided it was time to try anything.
Caleb laughed aloud, pushed the hair out of his eyes, straightened his posture, and threw off the guise of a dirty beggar man as if it was merely a coat and not protective armor.
“I told you we should not have begun so early in the night, love!” Caleb chided, placing a hand on Nott’s shoulder and praying his clever partner would catch on quickly. “Look, you have scared this poor woman half to death!”
The inn-keep was now staring at them open-mouthed. Caleb leaned forward, placing a forearm against the bar and grinning conspiratorially at her. “The wife and I, we like to do a little...role-play, sometimes. Spice things up a little, you know?” He winked. “I’m afraid we can get a little...overenthusiastic, at times.”
Caleb glanced back at Nott again and shot her a teasingly displeased expression. “Come, my sweet,” he crooned, and swept her up close to his chest the way he might a lover. “Dispel the magic. Show the nice lady your true self.”
Nott The Brave, bless her incredible brain, understood immediately. Her expression morphed into a petulant, playful pout.
“If you insist, Lebby.” Nott snapped her fingers dramatically and cast disguise self for the second time that night, instantly becoming a pretty gnomish young woman with neatly braided hair. The inn-keep jumped, letting out a short, nervous giggle, and Caleb frowned internally. Even though his plan had worked, he hated himself for putting Nott into a position that forced her to change her shape to be accepted.
Nott’s spirits did not seem to be much dampened, however. She was no longer shaking in his arms, and she turned with an evil grin to the inn-keep, who was still giggling behind her hand, and said, “He can delay all he wants, but there’s no way he gets out of tonight in one piece! Not if I have any say in it!”
She bared her teeth as she taunted him, and though they were no longer visibly threatening, Caleb knew what lay behind the illusion. He leaned into the act, losing himself a little, and didn't bother to hide the shiver that went down his spine at her words. The combination of the flirting and the physical closeness and the alcohol was making him blush furiously by now, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to separate the con from his own feelings.
“Well,” said the inn-keep, “I’m very sorry to have interrupted your evening. You two head upstairs, please, don’t let me hold you back any longer.” She scooped the coins Caleb had already placed on the table into her skirt and added with a wink, “good luck to you, sir!”
“He’ll need it!” said Nott, and if anything happened after that, Caleb was not aware of it because with a final flourish, Nott The Brave kissed him squarely on the mouth.
The noise Caleb made was completely undignified, halfway between a squeak of surprise and a groan. He got a moment’s impression of lips that were thin, warm, and dry, but before he could collect himself enough to reciprocate, Nott was already drawing away. She gasped, a small breathy sound he could feel against his face. Her gaze widened as she pulled back yet further, mouth slightly agape. There was a brief moment of eye contact in which far too much and also nothing at all was communicated. Then Nott threw her weight over his shoulder, clinging tightly to his neck with the effect that he could no longer see her face.
With a dismissive, half-present wave at the now gently laughing inn-keep, Caleb turned. He practically floated up the stairs, head swimming, face flushed, heart pounding in his ears. Nott’s weight was nothing to him these days, and he had no trouble making it up the steep wooden stairwell with her still clutched in his arms. He could feel her frantic pulse through her ribs as they climbed. It was a comfort, somehow, to know that whatever was going on, she was just as scared of it as he.
Caleb practically slammed the door of their room closed behind him, then leaned back against the inside just for good measure. Nott made no move to come down from his arms, and he did not try to release her, although he still couldn’t see her face. They simply stayed still, braced against the door, breathing quietly together while Caleb’s mind underwent a furious battle with itself.
“Say nothing,” said one voice in his head, “change the subject, let the moment pass. You cannot encourage this, you are dangerous for her, it is simply not fair. “
The other voice countered, “You saw the look on her face when she pulled away from you. She thinks she is unlovable, you know this. It is cruel to let it stand, to allow her to believe herself undesirable. She deserves better than that!”
Says the first, “You think you can give her any of the things she deserves? You are nothing but a powder keg waiting to explode, and there is so much that she could be. She does not need you”.
“Ah,” says the second voice again, “But how badly, you fool, do you need her?”
It was this selfish thought, more than any other, that spurred him on. He whispered over her shoulder, keeping his eyes blankly forward, and even as the words left his mouth he hated himself for them.
“Nott The Brave...down there in the tavern...you kissed me.”
“Oh!” she says to the closed door, “Yes! I did! Should I not have? You didn’t like it, did you. Of course not! I’m so sorry! Don’t know what I was thinking! I-”
The panic in Nott’s voice threw a wrench into the works of Caleb’s own self-pity machine. He slid down the door until he was seated with his back braced against it, knees curled towards his chest just enough to let her settle in his lap.
“Nott,” he prompted, “will you look at me?”
She mirrored his posture, wrapping her arms around her knees and placing her chin on top of it all to gaze hesitantly up at him. Her luminous saucer plate eyes made the dingy hostel room seem almost cozy.
“Slow down, my friend,” Caleb continued, “you are going leaps and bounds ahead of me. Let’s take things one at a time, eh?” He bit his lip, hesitating. “Nott. You know, you should know by now, I admire you a great deal. I would do almost anything for you, my friend, but….”
Nott cut him off, finishing sullenly, “There’s no need to let me down easy, Caleb. I don’t expect anything from you. We both know what I am, what I look like. You can do much better. ”
He had to laugh at that. “I would not be the one settling for less, between the two of us. I am a terrible person, Nott. I have done...things, so many things, I am damned for sure. It is selfish of me to even be near you, much less ask for anything more. Certainly I don’t deserve a woman like you.”
Nott eyed him, suddenly curious. “Caleb, do you want to deserve me?”
No going back now. Caleb took a deep breath and answered honestly. “Ja, I do. For almost as long as I’ve known you, Nott the Brave. You are an incredible woman. I’ve always said so.”
“Caleb, I’m a Goblin” she nearly shrieks, falling back against his knees for emphasis. He shrugs.
“I’ve got giant ears—,”
“They are completely charming—”
“and glow-in-the-dark monster eyes—”
“You know how I feel about cats—”
“My hands and teeth are so sharp I can barely manage not cutting myself most of the time—”
“Exciting—” he breathed, and now they were both blushing.
“Caleb, I’m fucking green.”
“I am color blind.”
“No you're not!” she argues, and crosses her arms. “We’re going in circles. This is ridiculous. So you think I’m all that, somehow, but you’re not going to kiss me?“
Caleb swallowed. It wasn’t that easy.
“I’ve already told you. There are...people...who would very much like to see me dead, or under their power once again. These people, they will do terrible things, Nott. If they knew you were close to me, they could use you. Hurt you. “
Nott sighed deeply. “Remember the last tavern we visited? The one with a goblin pelt mounted on the wall? Without you, I would constantly be in the maximum amount of danger I could possibly be in. Everywhere. All the time. Who cares what exactly the source of that danger is?”
She shifted to stand with her feet on either side of his seated hips. Before he knew it, Caleb was reaching forward, oh-so-gently, and when she nodded assent he cupped her delicate cheek in the palm of his hand. “I suppose, also,” he relented, rubbing circles into her skin with his thumb, “That even without…this. There are few lengths that I would not go to for your sake.”
“And what exactly is this?” Nott breathed. Her hands were on his shoulders now, and as she leaned forward into his touch, Caleb was hyper-aware of every curve and line of her body, every burning point of connection between them. He swallowed and continued his slow circling massage up her face, hesitating just at the hinge of her jaw. Then, finally, Caleb allowed his fingers to ask the question he’d been holding back for weeks, trailing slowly and reverently up the length of her long soft ear. Nott answered his query with a sharp inhale, jumping slightly. For a moment, they simply stared into each other's wide eyes, breathing heavily, both a little scared of what this moment might mean. Then the dam broke.
They crashed together so quickly that Caleb couldn’t be sure who moved first. All he knew was that he was kissing Nott The Brave and that she was kissing him back as if her life depended on it. Her lips were leathery dry, nothing like a human’s. The gentle press of them fascinated him, as every part of her did. He very much doubted that the inside of her mouth would be as rough, but there was only one way to know for sure. He deepened the kiss, steadily pushing her mouth open, enjoying the novelty of that rasp. She kissed him back with hungry, wide-mouthed want, and yet there was still a hesitation to her movements against his mouth, as if she still didn’t entirely believe that he could want this. Then Caleb’s questing tongue finally found the edge of her teeth. They were just as sharp as he had imagined. He groaned, loudly enough to surprise even himself, and something in Nott’s eyes flashed in response. She surged forward, trapping his lower lip between those incredible teeth and sending a jolt of arousal down his spine. Her hands, too, became more confident. She raked them, gently but not too gently, down the pane of his chest, drawing out another helpless moan as her claws scraped even through the cloth. He wanted to feel those claws on bare skin, down his arms, over his hips, everywhere she would be willing to place them.
In a daze, Caleb began to reach for the fastenings of his shirt. It was slow going because the whole time, he simply had to continue pressing little kisses to her ears, the sides of her mouth, her jawline, everywhere. He got as far as the third button when Nott seemed to realize what he was doing and shoved her hands atop his, stopping him. He froze instantly and began to lean back, but she held him in place, both with her hands and with a piercing look.
“This won’t change anything between us, right? You’re not gonna fuck me, feel guilty (or disgusted, her eyes said), and then be gone in the morning?”
Caleb swallowed. “We are a team, Nott The Brave. Better together, Ja? I will not leave.”
“What about the other p—ah!” She squeaked, as in one smooth movement he swept her into his arms and onto their bed.
“What about it?” he teased, pulling her over him for another, filthier kiss, as filthy as he could make it, “What would you have me do?”
“I just,” she gasped into his mouth, “I want to feel beautiful. Make me forget all this. Please.”
And so he did.
Caleb woke up before her the next morning. Nott was curled up tightly against his torso, as on most mornings, doing her best to let his body hide her from the world. Unlike most mornings, Caleb could feel the edges of her bare breasts against his middle and count every visible vertebra of her curled spine. He did so, lazily until she too began to stir from sleep. Her grumpy little waking-up noises were unchanged as well.
“Mhhnm,” she noted eloquently, “you think we should head out early?”
“Probably,” he agreed, and, because it felt right, dropped a kiss onto the top of her head, “you made out well enough last night that people may notice, after a little while.” He shifted, reaching for the place that their clothes had been discarded the previous night. “You’ll probably have to re-cast that spell from last night at some point.”
Nott sniffed. “Only if it means you’ll carry me down the stairs.”
“ I think that can be arranged,” he agreed, and together the two of them made their way out into the world, same as always and yet entirely new.