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Something was bound to snap soon and it was growing increasingly likely it would be Essek who broke first.
He and Caleb had awkwardly orbited each other through the first four days of their Aeor exploration, staying close but with an ever-present distance between them.While it was thrilling to travel with Caleb in pursuit of the lost knowledge of the ages, being truly alone together brought a tentativeness to their interactions. Their solitude gave them a freedom they were both too cowardly to utilize.
And there were so many missed opportunities to venture into each other’s space. They’d agreed to save their energy for higher powered spells, so upon entering Aeor proper, Caleb avoided casting the tower, instead opting to cast the dome for shelter from the cold. This left them with long stretches of time with only each other for company and no physical walls between them. Caleb, somewhat surprisingly, seemed loath to cross into Essek’s personal space, and Essek failed time and time again to break the shackles of propriety. Instead, he maintained his distance, even as his icy fingers yearned to reach out for Caleb to sample some of his warmth.
The fifth day, Essek was close to his breaking point. The final straw came when, after upwards of an hour digging through ancient tomes, Caleb had brushed a streak of dust across his forehead. Perhaps it was a ploy on Caleb’s part. Perhaps it was simple chance. Either way, Essek’s patience with their physical distance wore so thin something had to give.
The mark sat there, marring Caleb’s complexion in the most teasing way imaginable. It would be so easy to brush it off. Yet Caleb ignored it. The dust lingered for the better part of the day. Essek refrained from looking at it too long for fear of being unable to stop himself from brushing it away.
Then Caleb found a passage he found particularly interesting. He held up the open book to Essek, eyes sparkling in delight, a rare grin spreading across his face. That damnable streak of dust sat across his forehead, wrinkling with Caleb’s exultant expression.
Finally, Essek could take no more of it. He reached out, not for the book, but past it, cupping Caleb’s face in his hands. Caleb’s brow furrowed slightly, confusion halting his excitement. Essek held him for a brief instant before brushing his thumb across Caleb’s forehead, wiping it clean. Caleb’s skin was warm, despite their frozen surroundings, although his cheeks flushed with heat now. Essek longed to return the forehead kiss Caleb had given him so long ago, to press his lips to that brow, but resolve failed him. His heart pounded hard in his chest. Caleb’s face was so close to his he could see every minute change in expression. The surprised quirk of Caleb’s brow sent him back into his personal bubble, hands sliding back into the warm safety of his cloak.
“You had a smudge,” Essek answered Caleb’s unspoken question.
“Ah. Traveling this long, I suppose I fell back into old habits.Thank you for keeping me presentable, my friend.”
“It was not–” Essek trailed off. “You do not need to remain presentable for me. I only meant–”
“Either way, it is appreciated.” Caleb cut off his floundering, that sparkle in his eye once more.
And Essek crossing that invisible barrier between them changed something. Because Caleb began a veritable onslaught of casual touches, nudging Essek with his shoulder in playful jest, or steadying him unnecessarily when they clambered over rubble, or brushing their fingers together when handing him books. Essek found his new favorite activity was huddling together for warmth while reading the same passage of an ancient book, their arms brushing, their visible breaths mingling in the cold stillness.
Essek thrived on those moments for the next couple of days. But, while there was much to discover, both in forgotten books and in the new dynamic they’d discovered with each other, danger lurked around every corner in the ruins of Aeor.
“Get down!” Caleb screamed from across the cold, broken-down building.
Ice flooded Essek’s veins at the uncharacteristic terror in Caleb’s tone. Without looking behind him, he dived to the left into a pile of rubble, hoping the direction was a safe one. Pain flared across his shoulder and down his chest right before he impacted the hard stone floor, thrown slightly off target by whatever had hit him. He heard a snarl and a loud crunch in the place he’d just been and he glanced up to make eye contact with the tail of an Aeorian absorber. He swallowed hard and directed his gaze lower to the absorber’s face, where its feral eyes looked no kinder than its tail eye had been.
Essek watched the creature warily as it slunk towards him. Its right paw left prints behind it, small dark marks on the ice, little bloody trails originating from its claws. Ah. Its claws had caught him then. That explained the sharp pain and the wetness spreading down his arm and across his chest, like he’d spilled warm tea on himself.
“Essek! Are you alright?” Caleb sounded far away, but Essek did not take his eyes off the creature to see what Caleb was doing. He was glad he and Caleb had drifted apart from each other while they sorted through rubble, if only because it meant Caleb was not within range of this beast’s ire now.
“I am fine, Caleb.” Essek called back, scrambling painfully backwards across the floor while the absorber prowled closer. “I am a little occupied.”
The absorber moved again to strike and Essek did not have time to aim. Instead, he sent several Magic Missiles at the beast and turned to clamber into a standing position. Frustratingly, the motion was ungainly as his arm failed to properly support him, and he stumbled trying to regain his footing. Even more infuriating, a few of the missiles ricocheted off of the creature and he again had to dive to avoid them, bones and muscles screaming in protest. The creature did not appear at all wounded by the impact of the magical projectiles and still prowled towards him menacingly.
“Magic is not very helpful, Caleb!” Essek called from the ground, remembering this problem from their previous excursions. The wetness was spreading, blood dripping down his arm now. It was surprisingly sticky on his fingers. He felt faint and his shoulder pulsed with rhythmic pain.
“Got it. In that case–” Caleb’s voice cut off into a familiar rhythmic mumbling. Magic surged through the room, raising the hairs on the back of Essek’s neck. His skin prickled, rippled. The pain faded from his consciousness as a new sensation took hold in his body, something uncomfortable and indescribable.
The world grew smaller as Essek floated higher. No, he wasn’t floating. His perspective was shifting. He was taller now, bigger. He felt strong, powerful and muscles bulged in his arms as he clenched his suddenly hairy fists. He realized nothing hurt anymore.
Essek looked down at the panther-like absorber who was now gazing up at him, a snarl curling its toothy maw. It was tiny and annoying and Essek wanted it gone. All too easy with his new ape-form.
Ripping the absorber to shreds felt good. Essek vibrated with excitement, thrilled to exert himself to his fullest power. It struggled, of course, but was no match for Essek’s strength. It didn’t take long at all to silence its yelps. When the absorber was fully dead, Essek sat down next to the corpse, absently scratching at an itchy spot on his scalp.
The very tiny Caleb tentatively came over to him, one hand outstretched. The human was so small and precious. It felt good that he was safe now. Essek picked him up carefully, bringing him to his face and giving him a large kiss on the head. Caleb squawked and wiped at his face. Essek patted him gently, his hand dwarfing the struggling human.
“Ja, Essek, I am fine.” Caleb said.
The voice was soothing, but Essek knew there could be more danger. He would make sure they were both safe. Essek turned to a nearby collapsed building and began to tunnel in with his unoccupied hand, throwing stray pieces of stone out of his way. He cobbled together some rocks into a shelter and carefully pulled Caleb in. It was cold and dark but it would be safe.
Essek grunted at Caleb and cradled him to his chest, holding him close, breathing in the human’s smell. He loved his friend. Caleb was his favorite. The human shivered and Essek folded him in closer. This place was very cold, but Essek would keep his friend warm. He huffed, ruffling Caleb’s hair with his breath.
“Isn’t it nice to relax like this, Essek?” Caleb chuckled in his hand. “Why don’t you try sleeping?”
Essek considered. Something about sleep seemed strange to him, but he was tired and his friend thought sleep was a good idea. He could sleep now. They were safe.
Grunting softly, Essek lay down against a makeshift wall and closed his eyes, his Caleb clutched to his chest safely.
When Essek awoke, he was himself again, but the world was shrouded in a haze of pain and disorientation. It took a moment to register exactly which parts of him hurt because the pain radiated until it felt like any movement seared through him. He knew he needed to sit up and gather himself, but for a brief moment, he lay still and evaluated his surroundings.
He was still in the makeshift shelter he had made while polymorphed, but was now wrapped in his and Caleb’s cloaks. Blood crusted his body, as well as their cloaks, a mixture of the creatures’ and his own. His throat was dry, so he thought he might have been here a while, but it was difficult to gauge how long. He dimly recalled his memories as an ape. Caleb’s idea was smart, turning him into a martial creature to fight the absorber. It was still faintly embarrassing to remember the loss of his mental faculties. And mortification shot through him when he remembered cuddling Caleb so closely to him, a unique flavor of shame filling him when he remembered the kiss he’d bestowed on his friend. Perhaps Caleb would be kind enough to shrug off his forward physical gestures. He hadn’t been himself, after all.
Essek heard soft rustling near his feet and recognized Caleb’s soft humming. He turned his head to see that Caleb was sorting through their supplies nearby. Even that slight motion hurt, but the glint of bottles in his hand was a comforting relief. They still had potions. While Essek usually despised the herbal flavor, he craved the numbing sensation they would bring.
“How many potions are left?” Essek asked, aiming for casual concern. His side flared with an alarming amount of pain as he shifted his weight to try to sit up, and he made an effort to keep the strain from his voice.
“Ah, three left. Greater healing. We should be okay if we remain careful. We’re making good progress.” Caleb smiled, a real, warm smile, and the endearing quality of it pierced through the cloud of pain. “We’ll need to be on alert,” Caleb continued. “I heard more snarling up ahead. But we handled ourselves just fine in that last fight. We make a good team, you and I.”
So Caleb had not seen him take the blow from the absorber. He was far too elated with their success to know that Essek had handled the first part of their battle so abysmally. In fact, Caleb appeared completely at ease despite their less than ideal situation and the ever-present aura of danger. He seemed almost happy, a rare occurrence for Caleb. Essek could hardly bring himself to let Caleb down by telling him about the injury he’d sustained. Perhaps he could keep it to himself for now.
“We’ll be careful,” Essek promised. “Thank you for keeping watch while I… slept.” Chagrin filled him at the admission of his weakness, but he hoped Caleb was unaware of how shameful it was for a drow to sleep like a baby instead of trance.
“Any time. You’ve done the same for me, countless times, my friend.” Caleb resumed sorting through their supplies, leaving Essek to gather himself.
His side throbbed, pain radiating down his arm. It was tempting to ask for a potion. But there were only three potions remaining and they’d agreed to turn back once they were down to one, as a precaution. But they still had more to explore, and the return trip to consider. These Aeorian hunters dealt powerful blows. One injury could easily cause damage so severe the damage would require multiple potions.
Essek would be fine. He was likely already healing. And those potions would be more useful for Caleb anyway. Caleb was, as the rest of the Nein liked to say, squishy. If Caleb stepped into the path of one of those beasts, they could easily knock him unconscious. Or worse. Essek imagined how he’d feel with Caleb injured and no potions left to use and he redoubled his resolve to keep his injury to himself.
Later, when they both paused for a break from their walking to tend to their individual biological needs in separate corners of one destroyed building, Essek took advantage of his relative solitude to inspect his wounds. He hissed through his teeth when he pulled the shredded fabric of his clothes away from his body, carefully tugging some torn strips from where they’d become buried inside the scabbed wounds. Fresh blood spilled out of the gashes, sliding down his body. Essek cast a few Prestidigitations to clean up the mess.
The removal of excess blood did little to make the wounds look any better. Instead, Essek got a good look at the inside of his own flesh. There were five gashes, swiped across his chest and down his right arm. One of the scrapes in his arm particularly alarmed him. The skin was split alarmingly wide and blood had already begun pooling inside again. The dark liquid framed by ragged purple flesh was so horrifying it felt odd to acknowledge it was part of his own body. Strange how little it had hurt in the moment he’d sustained the injury.
Essek realized he felt faint and quickly began using strips of fabric to wrap the wounds tightly, biting his lip to stop from screaming. At least the pain kept him energized enough to fully bandage himself. The worst part, surprisingly, was struggling to put on a different tunic. Every movement of his arm pulled at the freshly-applied bandages. He eventually succeeded in wrapping himself in a new cloak, hugging his aching arm to his damaged chest. It hurt more than he thought something could, and seeing the wound had shaken him up significantly, but satisfaction settled in as he realized he’d handled it himself.
The Nein had all sustained worse injuries than this. He’d heard the stories from them, in laughing tones that belied the seriousness of their conditions. But he’d seen their haunted expressions and he knew them enough to know when the joking was a shroud for memories of actual fear and despair. He had been given the gift of inclusion; he was one of them now. And he’d known what he signed up for by going with Caleb on this journey, had already braced for sustaining serious injuries. While his upbringing had been perhaps more luxurious than most and had not prepared him for more strenuous adventure, he would not show his weakness. He would grow stronger like the rest of the Nein had.
That night, secure in their dome, Essek sat encased in blankets and listened to Caleb’s breathing slow down and become more rhythmic. His wound throbbed, feeling constrained under the bandages. Perhaps he had tied them too tightly. He was not skilled at the treatment of injuries and the chances that he had wrapped his wounds incorrectly were high. Still, he sat unmoving, extremely aware of Caleb’s arm, which the human had thrown above his head as he slept. Now it was resting casually across Essek’s calf, a bright point of warmth. Such a simple gesture, but Essek was unused to the ease with which Caleb reached out for him, even in unconsciousness. It was hardly a scandalous touch, but somehow it felt more intimate in its simplicity.
Caleb shifted in his sleep and Essek watched his eyelids flutter on his pale cheeks. He was beautiful, all worry swept from his face by blissful oblivion. It was a precious gift for Caleb to be so vulnerable with Essek, forgiving him enough to rest beside him, trusting him with his very life.
Essek had a complicated relationship to loyalty, shying away from pledging his fealty to any person or institution. He knew all too well how easy those bonds were to break. And yet, he also knew with gut-wrenching certainty that he would give up his life for Caleb willingly, if it would keep the man safe. It should have scared him to acknowledge this, but somehow it gave him a resolve he had never before possessed. Essek wasn’t sure if this level of devotion was wise, but he’d committed far more foolish acts, and clinging to Caleb felt more stable than drifting through life alone and unmoored. It gave him a sense of security to have Caleb in his life. And if that took saving their potions as a precaution, to ensure Caleb’s survival, Essek would do that without a second thought.
He felt his arm pulse in time with his heartbeat. The gashes hurt, but he’d learned that pain always accompanied growth. Taking a potion would’ve given him a quicker recovery, but the clerics back in Rosohna had always told him they only used the power of the Luxon to speed the body’s natural healing process. Magic and potions were convenient, to be sure, but Essek was sure his wounds would heal in time on their own.
He would be fine.
Essek was not fine. The next encounter with the Aeorian hunters left him barely able to breathe. He quickly learned first-hand that both of his arms needed to have full range-of-movement or his spells would be ineffective. So he spent most of the battle hiding behind a broken pillar, doing his best to cast the few spells that required mostly one hand, gasping in pain and valiantly struggling not to let the tears building in his eyes fall. Most of the spells he could manage did no damage and only improved Caleb’s abilities, but it was all he could do and he only hoped it was enough.
Caleb performed admirably, but still sustained a swipe from a reverser beast before it fell to roaring flames. The blood dripped from Caleb’s wounds onto the icy ground and he collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily.
Guilt gnawed at Essek and he chastised himself for not having taken one of their healing potions earlier to at least improve his casting abilities, if nothing else. But there was no time to berate himself. The pain was somehow more manageable while he dashed across the frosty ground to pull one of their precious potions out of Caleb’s coat. Cradling Caleb to his chest, he poured it past Caleb’s lips without a second thought. The grateful smile he received was worth it, a shockingly effective balm for his own pain, numbing him with joy for an instant. A thrill shot through him when he realized he was clutching Caleb to his body, but Caleb seemed willing to relax into his chest for the moment and Essek wrapped him in his arms, selfishly reassuring himself of Caleb’s safety.
Pain returned to his body with a vengeance now that the danger had passed. The thought registered that he should use one of the healing potions for himself now to improve his ability to prevent this occasion from happening again, but now there were only two potions remaining. Two tiny bottles standing between them and death. He could push through the pain.
The memory of Caleb’s hand clasping his undamaged shoulder in thanks was enough to keep him going. That small touch left him feeling abnormally warm for the rest of the day.
Perhaps the warmth he felt was a fever. Essek lay there that night, utterly unable to trance. Caleb slumped next to him in their bubble, body pressed against his left side, snoring lightly. Essek inhaled shallowly, clutching his arm to his chest. Tears burned in his eyes as the pain relentlessly assaulted him, no matter what position he tried. He desperately craved the ability to walk to a nearby apothecary and purchase something for pain relief. He’d been so spoiled in Rosohna and hadn’t even realized it. Perhaps, they could spare one potion. They’d be left with only one potion remaining though, and what if either of them suffered a mortal wound?
Essek had spent his whole life being selfish. Now was the time for change, for growth. It was selfish to squander their resources on his discomfort. Still, he squirmed under the onslaught of protest from his wound and wished he could handle it in a more dignified way.
Caleb would likely handle something like this with ease. Despite his weak constitution and his susceptibility to damage, the human powered through pain like it was nothing. It seemed a blessing now, in their present state of repetitive injury, but he tried not to wonder what kind of tortures Caleb had suffered to enable him to so easily push through. Essek examined Caleb’s sleeping face, noting how the lines of worry faded into soft vulnerability and he felt unstable, his heart melting into fondness. Whatever pain Caleb had been forced to bear in the past, Essek refused to let him suffer unduly ever again. The two potions would be reserved for Caleb, unless Essek was in mortal peril, which he currently was not.
The warmth he felt was Caleb’s body heat radiating into his side. It was certainly not a fever. And if it was, it was simply his body fighting off infection. Normal. Nothing to worry about.
Essek finally managed to trance fitfully, but exhaustion still consumed him that morning and he struggled to maintain focus. His resolve to continue weakened. Perhaps a potion was necessary. They could always return to safety and purchase more supplies before resuming their travels.
But he’d seen how Caleb’s excitement was building. His eyes contained a hunger when he told Essek they would reach the T-dock in only two days. Raw tension radiated from him as they got closer to their goal.
It was impossible to turn back now. Essek could survive two days like this for Caleb.
He floated as they traveled now, limiting the jostling of his body as much as possible. Caleb, thankfully, did not comment, only giving a bemused quirk of his lips and a straightening of his spine.
The reduction in movement should have helped, but now the temperature was getting to him. The cold made the heat radiating from his arm more intense. He spent his day counting the pulses in his arm, wishing he could speed the passage of time, desperate for the warmth inside Caleb’s dome.
“It’s nice here, in a way, Essek.”
Essek hummed, his mind not on Caleb’s comment, nor on what he was doing. They sorted through papers now, deep in the underbelly of the Ars Ward. Essek had a shoddily-bound book in his hand, ancient writing still visible, spelling out what was likely poetry. Essek had been flipping through this book for far longer than it likely merited, considering he could not read the script.
“It sounds funny, calling this nice. But somehow, your company, well, it makes the cold more bearable.” Caleb smiled.
The pain buzzed in Essek’s ears, stealing his focus away. His mind was fuzzy. What was Caleb saying? Something about the cold being bearable. Essek violently disagreed. The cold was absolutely unbearable. He shivered in his cloak, the cold air seeping in and wracking him with chills.
“It is very cold.” Essek replied, not able to work up the energy to come up with anything more eloquent.
“That says a lot about your company.” Caleb replied lightly.
Essek was too tired to untangle the meaning of Caleb’s words. The reply didn’t make much sense to him and so he just hummed again, most of his focus on ignoring his freezing limbs. He wished he was either warmer to ease the chills or colder so his wounds would numb. He got neither wish.
It was almost funny how much Essek craved Caleb’s touch initially. Now, he shied away from the casual touches Caleb bestowed upon him, desperate to avoid a resurgence of protest from his arm. Each stray bump to his right side forced aching agony into his flesh and it was everything he could do to smile through the pain to reassure Caleb that he was fine.
They continued researching. Caleb found some papers detailing experiments with some dunamancy-related magic, but Essek couldn’t bring himself to muster the proper amount of enthusiasm. He was sure they were fascinating. He’d love to go through them later, but the pain in his side took all of his attention. He couldn’t ignore it anymore.
They'd been walking together for a while, but strangely, Caleb was now farther ahead than he was. Essek tried to move closer to keep up, but he was no longer floating and his legs weren’t responding to him. The ground lurched concerningly and Essek found himself a lot closer to it than he had been previously. His cheek was cold against the ground. The new angle made the frost sparkle distractingly. His side hurt in a new way. Uncomfortable. It was regrettable. Still, the relief from the way his side hurt before was nice. Even with the new pain, it was a good change. He thought about that for a while, sinking into the throbbing pain until it consumed him.
“Essek? Essek!” Someone was patting his face, trying to get his attention. He turned away and sank back into icy blackness.
When consciousness returned, it was to hands pulling at his cloak, jostling his arm. Pain flared and he cried out instinctually.
“Essek! Where are you hurt?”
It was Caleb. He sounded scared, and his voice was ragged. Was he crying? Why was he so upset?
Caleb continued to pull at him, dragging Essek into his lap, but the motion yanked at his inflamed skin in a way that felt distinctly unhealthy. Essek moaned in protest and feebly struggled. His cloak was ripped from his body, sending a shock of cold through him, and Essek heard a sharp intake of breath.
“Oh scheiße. Nein, nein, nein,” Caleb gasped, alarm suffusing every syllable. “Essek! Stay with me.”
Why was he so upset? Was Caleb hurt? Essek opened his eyes to see only darkness. Wait. No, his eyes weren’t opening at all. That was alarming.
There were sobs now and his body jerked in time with the great wracking gasps. It was far from comfortable and Essek wanted to protest, but none of his body responded to him anymore. It was peaceful, in a way. If he couldn’t move, he didn’t have to worry about trying to force his body to move.
Something clattered against his teeth. Something glass? A hand pressed into the corners of his jaw, wrenching his mouth open, and then a cool herbal fluid was running into his mouth, pooling in his throat. He swallowed reflexively and felt the mild burn trail down his throat like minty fire. The liquid kept coming and he swallowed until it ran dry. Then the glass was gone and a warm vice clamped around him and his world grew fuzzy again.
There was peace for only a moment and then his gut burned and the skin around his wounds felt unbearably itchy for a brief instant. His entire body sang with a strange mix of burning and the sudden absence of heat. Then he felt the delightful sensation of pain receding. He hadn’t been aware of how much he’d been hurting until the pain stopped. Suddenly, he could think clearly again.
Essek became aware that Caleb was gripping him tightly in a hug. He opened his eyes and was met with a sea of orange. He blinked into it, taking a second to realize he felt strands of hair against his cheeks. Caleb clutched him to his chest, whispering soft reassurances.
Essek reached a hand up to soothe Caleb, patting his head awkwardly and Caleb finally pulled away slightly. The haze of orange hair fell away and Essek was startled to see the evidence of Caleb’s distress, his blue eyes shot red and swollen, tears still trailing down his cheeks.
“Why, Essek?” Caleb whispered. “We had potions. Two. Why didn’t you say anything?”
His arms were very warm about Essek. Distantly, he realized how comfortable they’d both gotten with touches. It felt natural now to sink into Caleb’s arms like this. How far they’d come in such a short time.
“The potions were for you.” Essek admitted.
“For me?” Caleb asked, incredulously. “You were saving them for me?”
The explanation didn’t make as much sense anymore, Essek was realizing. Still, he tried to make Caleb understand. “It would have been frivolous to use the potions on myself. I’ve been trying to change, to not to be as selfish as I once was.”
“Selfish! Essek, there is a great distance between being selfish and taking care of yourself. You would have left me to drag your corpse home to spare yourself the indignity of admitting you needed help. Tell me how that is anything but selfish.”
Oh. Caleb was angry, far angrier than Essek had seen him before. He spat the words with venom, despite the careful way he held Essek. It was surprising to see this much fury on a man who had delivered a gentle kiss in response to a betrayal in the past.
“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Essek tried.
“Well, you haven’t gotten what you wanted.” Caleb huffed and buried his face again in Essek’s shoulder, which Essek was happy to realize did not cause him any pain anymore.
The hug lasted long enough for Essek to finally push him back enough to speak. “Caleb? Please understand. I was simply holding off on using the potions in case a truly mortal wound were to befall us.”
Caleb shook his head, wordless for a moment. Then he laughed mirthlessly. “‘A truly mortal wound’? Essek, how long have you been keeping that wound to yourself?”
“The absorber.”
“As I suspected. Days then.”
“I just needed some more time. I would’ve recovered.”
“No, Essek. Your wounds were infected. You were sick, delirious from the fever. No, you would have died.” Caleb’s voice broke.
Essek opened his mouth to protest, but he thought back and took stock of the last few days with a new perspective, his thinking clearer than it had been in days. “I knew it was bad. But I know you survived worse injuries on your travels before. All of you did. I thought I should be able to handle it.”
“We had two clerics,” Caleb responded fiercely. “We leaned on each other. None of us would have survived on our own.” The fight seemed to drain out of him and Caleb tilted his head forward to press their foreheads together.
“I’m sorry.” Essek closed his eyes and savored the closeness.
“I think I understand. I know it is hard to think of yourself as part of a group if you're not used to having others to lean on. But never again. I certainly would not survive these ruins alone, Essek.”
The idea of Caleb alone in the dangerous ruins of Aeor, with only Essek’s corpse and the strange creatures to keep him company sent shivers down his spine. “I won’t leave you to survive here alone."
“You’d better take care of yourself then.”
“We will take care of each other.” Essek promised.
The first step in taking care of each other was gathering the most important papers and books they’d found into their bag of holding and returning to safety. They agreed that one potion was not enough to support two wizards alone in a place with beasts designed specifically to be resistant to magic. They regrouped to the Blooming Grove as soon as Essek felt strong enough to teleport them somewhat safely.
Caduceus’ presence was a welcome one to them both. He quickly noted that Essek’s wounds had healed but the infection in his blood still quietly festered, sapping his strength. To their great relief, a strong restoration spell cleared the remaining exhaustion from Essek’s body. Caduceus did not lecture him for his carelessness, and Essek was grateful for it. Essek wondered how much Caleb had told him about their adventures and how much Caduceus could gather just by watching them. Essek realized only after being in the company of others how obvious their closeness must be.
Perhaps they should have maintained their distance from each other, to keep this new, blossoming relationship between themselves for now. But it was difficult, now, to keep from reaching out to steady himself against Caleb, to refrain from intertwining their fingers while they walked through the garden. It felt natural to brush his fingers along Caleb’s arm as he approached. Caleb did not pull away, and did not seem to have any qualms about returning the touches.
So, Caduceus had likely gathered everything about how their relationship had grown. But, even without words exchanged between them, Essek trusted him to keep their secret. How wonderful it was to have trustworthy friends.
When Caleb cast the tower, that night, Essek hesitated only a moment before knocking lightly on Caleb’s door.
“Ja, come in, Essek.”
Essek started a bit, but of course Caleb knew it was him. Who else would it be? Caduceus and his family had been invited, and had stayed for dinner, but they had declined the sleepover and elected to sleep in their own beds. It was just Caleb and Essek in the tower tonight, alone together yet again, in considerably nicer surroundings than they were used to. This time, Essek did not mean to waste the opportunity for closeness.
He pushed in the door and found Caleb reading on his bed, clad in silky black pajamas. The clothes were designed more for comfort than allure, but Essek’s mouth still went dry and he halted at the threshold, unsure.
Caleb sat up, closing his book. No bookmark. But of course, he didn’t need one. He would remember the page number perfectly with that incredible mind.
It was only now that Essek realized he had not planned what to say. The truth of it was that he’d gotten used to trancing with Caleb’s comforting presence nearby, with no walls between them. Essek found it unbearable to sit in his room in the tower now, knowing Caleb was sleeping alone next door. But saying so was an admission he didn’t know how to make delicately.
Words again proved to be unnecessary between them. Easily, as if he’d been accustomed to Essek’s presence for years, Caleb simply shifted to arrange himself back against the headboard, leaving space next to him. It was an invitation without pressure, the opening reserved for Essek without the need for him to ask.
Heart racing, Essek floated gently up and over the space next to Caleb, lightly settling next to him. Caleb immediately oriented towards him like a flower to the sun and pressed himself in closer. Something felt like it clicked into place in Essek’s chest and he was overcome with the sense of rightness and belonging. He wrapped his arms around Caleb and was gratified when Caleb curled into him, head resting on his chest.
Caleb traced a hand lightly over Essek’s sleep tunic where his injuries had scarred over into light violet ridges. “When you fell, I thought the worst,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry I worried you.”
“I can’t lose you too, Essek.” It was more of a plea than a statement.
“You will not lose me, Caleb Widogast.”
“If you don’t take care of yourself, I’ll be forced to bring Jester along when we return,” Caleb threatened.
“That wouldn’t be the worst thing.” Essek laughed, the motion of it shaking Caleb gently. “But as much as she would liven up the place, I enjoy the time we have to spend together.” He hugged him tighter to demonstrate what he meant.
“This is nice.” Caleb agreed.
It was more than nice. Essek had not expected to ever experience this level of happiness in his life.
That night, in the safety of their tower, Essek basked in the simple luxury of curling himself around Caleb’s warm, sleeping form. They would return to Aeor, of course, eventually. Their work there was not done and there was much left to uncover. But this time, it would be with more supplies and more trust in each other. And considerably more cuddling.