Chapter Text
Caduceus Clay considered himself a relatively ordinary person with a relatively uneventful life. Tending to the Blooming Grove, though fulfilling, was not the most exciting occupation in the world, but Caduceus enjoyed it immensely, along with his solitude. He didn't have much desire for company, though he didn't mind it when it came, and had decently average hobbies, such as making tea and sitting around thinking about the deteriorating state of the Savalirwood. On second thought, perhaps those were only decently average hobbies for a cleric of the Wildmother, but in any case, Caduceus was a contentedly boring man, with a life that consisted mainly of caring for plants and cleaning headstones.
So, when an earth genasi with a sizable hole in their skull stumbled into his garden one pleasantly warm morning, it was a jarring, but not wholly unwelcome, turn of events.
The emerald humanoid was on the verge of collapse when Caduceus reached them, and he swiftly put an arm around their waist and brought them closer to lean on him. "There we go, just like that," Caduceus murmured, as he felt their weight slump over onto his shoulder. "I've got you. Let's get you inside, friend." As a firbolg that had grown up in relative isolation, Caduceus had very little experience with earth genasi, and especially their anatomy, but the wound on this one's head seemed serious. He hoped that his magic would still be effective, despite the differences between the stranger and anybody else he'd practised on.
Silently, the genasi let Caduceus bring them into his home, and he could see them blinking slowly at the inside of the small cottage, but they continued to say nothing. Caduceus suspected they were either concussed or in too much pain to speak—unfortunately, the most likely option seemed to be both at once. He led the stranger to his own bed without hesitation, refusing to consider any alternative than his spontaneous guest's fullest comfort. If there was nothing Caduceus could do, he at least wanted the genasi to die somewhere warm and soothing.
Caduceus stood at the edge of the bed, holding the stranger's bleary gaze for a long moment. "My name is Caduceus Clay," he said, gently, trying to keep it short and reassuring. "I'm going to help you." With a word and a brief touch to their shoulder, Caduceus stabilised them, so that they wouldn't die of serious head trauma the moment they closed their eyes. And then he left the genasi alone, with two goals in mind: to prepare enough bandages to wrap their entire head, and to make some tea. It would likely be a little while before his guest was able to drink it, but having tea ready was always a priority in Caduceus' mind.
Caduceus spent the rest of the day tending to the stranger's wounds; he covered the hole in their head with salve-soaked bandages while murmuring words of healing over it, and cleaned the scratches and cuts on the rest of their body as best he could. He let himself rest, then spoke more healing spells while changing the bandages every few hours, and by the third or fourth time, he thought he saw some improvement, though he wasn't sure. The genasi had also fallen asleep by that point, which Caduceus thought was a good thing—it meant that they were comfortable, and since their breathing was normal, Caduceus saw no reason to force them awake.
As his bed was occupied, Caduceus made a temporary arrangement for himself on the couch, and ensured that the door was left open in case his guest awoke during the night. The tea he'd made earlier was getting cold, so he drank some more himself, and then deposited the rest outside, so that it could return to the earth once again. He was feeling fairly taxed when he came back inside, but went to the genasi and performed one last healing spell anyway. It wasn't as if he needed to conserve his magic for anything else—if worst came to worst and there was some sort of emergency, he would make do. He always did.
The genasi hadn't stirred by the time Caduceus rose with the dawn, and Caduceus decided not to disturb them. Sleep was an essential part of any healing, after all, and the more healing he could let the stranger's body do on its own, the better for both of them. He would have to wake them up eventually, though—he was fairly confident that people made of rocks still needed to consume some kind of nutrients, and Caduceus, luckily, had no shortage of natural ingredients around. He was sure to have something that his guest would find sustaining.
Whistling to the tune of nothing, Caduceus went to make himself breakfast, and more tea.
The kettle had just started boiling when Caduceus heard a faint groan of pain from the other room, and he abandoned the stove immediately. "Good morning," he greeted, when he reached the open doorway, and he kept his voice soft and his expression pleasant. "Can you speak to me? How are you feeling?"
The genasi groaned again as they attempted to lift themself onto their elbows; Caduceus instantly raced to their side and gently encouraged them to lay back down with a solid hand on their chest. "Fuck," the stranger breathed, so nearly inaudible that Caduceus thought he might've imagined it—that thought was also encouraged by the fact that he had no idea what it meant. They seemed to gather their strength for a moment, then managed, in a gravelly voice, "Where—fuck—who—fuck—the fuck are you?" before lapsing into a dry coughing fit.
Caduceus identified that 'fuck' appeared to be an expletive. "You're in the Blooming Grove," he explained, simply, "and my name is Caduceus. I'm a healer, and you are very much in need of healing, friend." He gave the genasi a small smile. "You arrived here yesterday looking like a complete disaster." Truth be told, they still looked like a complete disaster, just less on the verge of death than before. "Can you tell me your name and what happened to you?" Caduceus prompted, his tone light.
The stranger was silent for a long moment, searching Caduceus' face with their one functional eye. Sadly, Caduceus hadn't been able to save the other one. "Ashton," they finally said, gruffly. "Fell out of a window." Then, they deflated, slumping back against the pillows and raising their eyes to stare at the ceiling.
"Well, Ashton," Caduceus replied, "I'll get you something to drink, and then you can tell me a bit more about how you, ah... fell out of a window and ended up in my garden."
"Fine," Ashton mumbled.
Luckily, Caduceus' hot water hadn't cooled down too much in the brief time he'd spent talking to his guest, so he was able to quickly recover it and add some tea leaves. He threw in a slice of buttered bread for good measure—if Ashton couldn't eat it, he would eat it himself and find the genasi something else, but he wanted to make the effort right off the bat.
When Caduceus returned, it was with a mug of warm (not hot, he didn't want to hurt the poor genasi any more than they already were) tea and the small plate of food. "I figured you might be hungry, too," Caduceus explained, as he set the plate down on the bed and pressed the mug into Ashton's shaking hands. "I don't know what your diet is like, though, so if you want something else instead, just say so." He helped Ashton bring the mug to their lips, ignoring their stony glare—presumably at feeling coddled—and then released them once he was confident they weren't going to spill any of it.
"I'll eat anything," Ashton muttered, "if I have to." They looked at the plate for a long moment, then added, "Bread's fine."
"Oh, good," Caduceus replied. "I have plenty."
Ashton winced as they reached for the food, and Caduceus instinctively helped them. He received another glare for his efforts, and he was beginning to realise that Ashton was one of those fiercely independent sorts of people that thought accepting help was a sign of weakness. Caduceus elected to keep doing it anyway.
"Now, you said that you fell out of a window," Caduceus started, once Ashton was a few bites deep into their meal—which they were ravaging as if they hadn't eaten for weeks. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but your injuries don't seem like they're all just from hitting the ground."
Ashton hesitated. "There was an explosion involved," they admitted, a couple of crumbs falling from their lips as they spoke. "Or... something. I don't know. Magic shit. And then I was in a fucking forest, somehow, so definitely magic shit." Ashton glanced around, seeming anxious. "Where the fuck am I, anyway? I don't know—whatever you said earlier."
"The Savalirwood, near Shadycreek Run," Caduceus answered, but there was still no recognition in Ashton's eyes. "Northern Wildemount?" he then offered.
"Wildemount," Ashton repeated, with disbelief. "Fuck. You're joking, right?"
Caduceus blinked at him. "Where were you before?" he asked.
"Marquet," Ashton replied, confidently, though their confidence almost immediately faltered. "I—I think."
"You got a nasty bump on the head," Caduceus said, reassuringly, though 'bump' was a very mild way of putting 'crater'. "I'd be more surprised if you weren't having memory issues." Bandages covered the area, for now, and Caduceus hoped that Ashton was really as tough as they seemed, because that was going to be a lot once they were up and moving again.
"Fuck," Ashton breathed once more. "Yeah. I don't—and I had problems before," they muttered. They then raised their eyes to meet Caduceus'. "You said you're a healer? Cleric? Can you fix this?" They gestured vaguely at themself.
Caduceus let out a breathy laugh. "I'm not sure what you mean by 'this'," he replied, "because I think you just pointed to all of you. I've done my best with your injuries, though, and I'll continue making sure you don't die—your memory, though, I'm not sure. If you already had issues, especially... there might not be much I can do." He folded his hands in his lap. "But I can try, and I can also try to get you home, too, to someone that might know you." Caduceus glanced around. "The Wildmother knows I've been looking for an excuse to leave the grove. I just didn't want to go on my own."
"Wait, fuck—" Ashton attempted to move, but ended up just letting out a pained groan. "Shit. But, anyway, you just fucking met me, and now you're just ready to escort me to another fucking continent? What the fuck is up with that?" the genasi demanded. "Is this place secretly a shithole, or something?"
"The woods are cursed," Caduceus admitted, easily. "The rest of my family has already left, over the years, trying to find the source of the corruption. I stayed behind, to keep things tidy, and in case any folks like you wandered through. And, now, I think this is a sign that it's time for me to leave, too."
Ashton slumped back against the pillows. "Hope you're fine with waiting more," they said, "because there's no way I'm going anywhere fast. I feel like someone ran me over with a fucking horse. Several horses. And a cart. And then dropped a brick on my head." They brought one quivering hand to their forehead and pressed down, and let out a long hiss of pain. "Fuck. That's bad."
"Oh—no, I wasn't suggesting we leave immediately," Caduceus responded, with a chuckle. "Once you're better. But, speaking of—can you tell me how you're feeling, more specifically? It'll help me, well, help you. And then I'll let you rest again, because I'm sure you're tired of my yammering."
"I'm just fucking sore," Ashton groaned, "and I have a fucking headache. And I'm fucking starving, but I think if I eat any more I'll puke."
"Sounds like a concussion, for sure." Caduceus gave them a reassuring smile. "I'll have to change your bandages again soon, but I'll leave you alone for now, and let you have a break from talking to me." He let out a soft exhale. "I'll be in the other room. Shout if you need anything. Er, actually, don't shout—just say my name, don't overexert yourself."
"I'm not going to die from shouting," Ashton responded dryly.
"No, but there's a chance you'll hurt your throat, and I don't need to be repairing more damage, now, do I?" Caduceus pointed out. "Let me get you into one piece again before you go back to... whatever it was you were doing that got you thrown out of a window."
Ashton opened their mouth, as if they were going to reply, then closed it again. Caduceus suspected that they had wanted to rebuke him with what they had been doing, and then realised they couldn't remember. He'd only known the genasi for a day, but they seemed fairly easy to read. Every part of them was laid bare in front of Caduceus, both literally and figuratively, and they didn't seem like the kind of person that dove head-first into vulnerability. They had to have been feeling uncomfortable, at the very least.
"Rest well," Caduceus said, brightly, and he took the cleared plate with him as he left the room.
He glanced back, when he was far enough away that he thought Ashton might have dropped the front they were trying to hold up; their glassy eyes were staring at him, hawk-like and narrowed in suspicion. Caduceus gave them an awkward thumbs-up and turned back to place the dish in a basin to wash later.
Caduceus didn't think that he was very suspicious, but then again, he'd never encountered himself from the outside before. Maybe there was something about him that made him seem untrustworthy, though he'd never once been untrustworthy—the more likely answer, however, was that whatever life Ashton had come from, even though they couldn't remember it, had left them paranoid and distrustful. Caduceus thought that was sad, and decided to do everything in his power to be the most sincere and reliable person that Ashton had ever met. Even if Ashton could never trust him fully, he could make sure he never gave the genasi a reason to not trust him (to be fair, he didn't think it would be all that hard, with his track record).
Feeling in need of a breeze, and thinking it would help his guest, too, Caduceus opened the kitchen window. He took a deep breath of the soothing, sweet-scented air and a moment to organise his thoughts. Then, he let out a long sigh, and set about going through his typical morning chores.
Ashton remained silent while Caduceus worked, but he could feel eyes on his back every time he was within sight of the open door. However, when he looked, the genasi always feigned sleep, or interest in the ceiling beams, and so Caduceus left them alone. He only bothered them again at lunchtime, when he offered them a sandwich (since the bread had been a hit) and some strawberries, and they ate while Caduceus changed their bandages. Caduceus chattered away lightly during that, about the state of the forest, its residents, and his garden, simply to fill the air—what he was saying didn't matter, and the fact that Ashton wasn't listening didn't matter, either.
Once the bandages were changed and another healing spell had been placed on them, Caduceus informed Ashton that he would be spending the afternoon outdoors tending to the plants and the graveyard, but that he still wouldn't be far in case Ashton needed anything. He opened Ashton's window, too, for good measure, so that he could hear if they called, and Ashton seemed unbothered by the entire affair, even going so far as to roll their eyes at him.
Caduceus remained unbothered as well, despite Ashton's attitude. Every healer had to deal with stubborn patients—he knew this as a simple fact of life. At least Ashton wasn't trying to fight him or remove their bandages while Caduceus wasn't looking—or, maybe they just hadn't tried yet, but Caduceus determinedly stayed hopeful for their cooperation.
The next few days passed in the same way: Caduceus tended to his ordinary duties as well as Ashton's wounds and other needs, and healed them with magic when he could, and Ashton seemed bothered that Caduceus was dedicating so much time to them, but also couldn't do anything about it, as they were still confined to bed. They talked, occasionally, but the conversations were relatively one-sided, as Ashton didn't exactly have any anecdotes to tell or life updates to give, though they did offer Caduceus a few small insights into their character and what they could remember. Their interest in Caduceus' life did also seem to increase, slowly, though Caduceus suspected that may have been out of boredom.
Caduceus did try to give Ashton things to occupy himself with, while he was awake and itching for something to do, and the genasi accepted his offerings (mostly books), but Caduceus could tell that Ashton was desperate to get back on his feet. It made sense—even people that enjoyed spending time alone doing something sedentary would start driving themselves mad after days of being forced to stay in bed, and Ashton had already admitted to not being that kind of person.
And, so, against his better judgement, it was less than a week after Ashton had arrived that Caduceus got him standing on his own two feet again.
Ashton hissed in pain as soon as he stood up, and Caduceus watched him sway, wary and ready to catch him if he fell. "You don't have to," Caduceus reassured him, quietly. "You can rest longer if it's too much, if the pain—"
"No," Ashton insisted, their opalescent eyes narrowed in determination and their emerald jaw set firmly. "I'm getting out of this fucking house." They stood for a long moment, visibly quaking with the effort, before they let out an annoyed huff. "Give me your arm," they sighed, and they reached out for Caduceus.
Caduceus happily let Ashton take his arm. "I'm sure you'll be able to walk on your own soon," he said, trying to be supportive, "but I'll help you as long as you need it." Ashton visibly winced, and Caduceus didn't know if it was from the pain or the fact that he couldn't be as independent as he wanted to. "There's nobody around," Caduceus continued. "Just me and you. And I'm the one helping you, so I don't really count, yeah? Just pretend I'm not here."
Ashton was silent for a long moment, while the two of them slowly made their way through the living room. "Yeah," they finally conceded. "Yeah. You're not even here."
"I'm not even here," Caduceus repeated, dutifully. "Come on, let's get you outside. It'll do wonders."
There was a wooden bench by Caduceus' door, looking out towards the graveyard; he took Ashton there, to give the genasi a break after his first physical activity in nearly a week. Ashton let out a pained grunt as Caduceus helped him sit, and Caduceus gave him a quick once-over just to make sure he hadn't reopened any wounds before joining him.
"Nice day, isn't it?" Caduceus commented. It was always pleasant in the Blooming Grove, but Ashton didn't know that, and even on the scale of pleasant-ness, it was rather nice.
"...yeah," Ashton admitted, not looking anywhere near Caduceus, which he took as a compliment to his upkeep of his family's home. "It's... nice."
"You can see, over there"—Caduceus pointed to the barrier at the furthest edges of the clearing, keeping the Savalirwood and its corruption at bay—"where the nasty things are starting to get through." Thorny grey-purple vines poked between the wooden boards, almost as if they were taunting the firbolg to try to come after them. "Either I keep building fences until there's no grove left, or I leave here to try to get rid of them once and for all."
"This is the shit that the rest of your family's all gone missing trying to do the same thing, yeah?" Ashton fixed Caduceus with an expression of disbelief. "And you just want to go ahead and go missing too?"
"I didn't say they went missing," Caduceus corrected, with a note of indignance that slipped into his voice unbidden. "I said that they hadn't come back yet. There's a big difference."
Ashton paused for a moment, then questioned, "...is there?"
Caduceus almost replied 'yes' immediately, but then he stopped to reconsider. "I suppose it depends on your perspective," he admitted, hesitantly. "They are missed, and I don't know where they've gone, so—yes, perhaps they are missing, if only from my view of things."
"Nobody's ever missing to themselves," Ashton pointed out. "Well—no, you know what I fucking mean. Just because you know they know where they are and what they're doing doesn't mean that you don't." He let out a sigh, and knocked over a rock that was sitting by his foot, releasing a singular beetle that immediately scurried away to find a new place to hide. "And maybe they fucking don't, have you thought of that? Maybe they're in deep shit, maybe they're dead, maybe this corruption shit is more dangerous than you think and some fucking creature is going to hunt you down as soon as you leave and you'll join them in its goddamn stomach."
Caduceus stiffened. "I... have considered it," he replied. "But, excuse my rudeness, it's not really your business, is it? I want to tag along and help you get back to Marquet. I don't intend to die along the way, and whatever I do afterwards is not really your problem, so I don't see why you're bothering about it." He shrugged. "Perhaps I'll die. Perhaps I won't. I'll accept whatever plan the Wildmother has for me."
Ashton stared at him for a long time, then turned away to look back at the forest. "Right," they finally said. "Your problem. Not mine." They snorted. "I'd just fucking hate for the weird, innocent hermit that saved my fucking life to go and immediately get himself killed because he thought he could fight an entire cursed plant thing on his own."
Caduceus laughed, mostly out of surprise. "Well, your concern is appreciated," he said. "Just one small question, though—'hermit', I can agree with, but 'weird' and 'innocent'?"
"It's all the same thing," Ashton explained, bluntly. "You've lived out here with just your family your whole life. You have no fucking clue what the real world is like."
Caduceus gave him a wry smile. "To be fair," he pointed out, "neither do you."
Ashton snorted. "I know enough," he said. "I remember enough."
They sat in silence for a while after that. Caduceus passed the time by following a bright blue dragonfly with his eyes as it made its way around the grove, zipping between trees and plants before it eventually disappeared. He wondered, then, what Ashton was thinking about—what sorts of things occupied their mind when they weren't doing anything. And he thought about asking, but decided that Ashton would probably prefer it if he left them alone.
"Help me back inside?" Ashton eventually asked, his voice low.
"Of course," Caduceus answered, without question, and Ashton didn't flinch away when he touched them, gently, to bring them to their feet. Their weight shifted, in one swift movement, from the bench to Caduceus' shoulder, before Ashton dropped their grip to his forearm, where it had been before. "I'll make us some tea."
"Are you ever not making tea?" Ashton questioned, dryly. "Fuck getting rid of the corruption, you should get the hell out of here and start a teashop. People would go fucking insane."
Caduceus chuckled. "It's good for you," he said, "and I'm afraid most of it comes from the flowers, not my tea-making skills." He pushed open the door and helped Ashton over the threshold. "There we go. Easy, now."
"I'm not a horse," Ashton muttered under his breath. "But—yeah, I forgot your tea is made of dead people." He huffed a tiny laugh. "Y'know, there are some people in the world that would think that's fucking horrifying."
"Do you?" Caduceus asked, curiously. They'd reached Caduceus'—temporarily, Ashton's—bedroom by this point, and Ashton detached themself from Caduceus to lay down again, with another groan. "I've never really thought about it all that hard. The graves make flowers and the flowers make tea. It's not as if there are—I dunno, chunks of people in there. That wouldn't really be tea, that would be more of a soup."
"I don't think it's fucking horrifying," Ashton responded, vehemently. "I think it's metal as fuck."
Caduceus wasn't sure what ores had to do with his tea, but figured it was most likely some kind of earth genasi expression. "I will take that as a compliment," he told them, with a smile, "because it sounds positive."
"It's a compliment," Ashton clarified. "Sorry, forgot you were raised by tree wizards."
"We're not—" Caduceus started to rebuke him, before realising that he wasn't quite wrong. "Well. We're not all wizards, and it's not just trees."
Ashton made a small noise of agreement. "Mmh. Tree wizards."
"I'm a cleric," Caduceus protested, weakly. "It—agh, nevermind." He waved a hand dismissively. "I'll put on some water. Try not to die while I'm gone."
As he left, he heard Ashton reply, "No promises," and to that, Caduceus shook his head and let out a low, breathy chuckle.
He made tea. It was nice—nothing particularly special—and Ashton seemed to enjoy it, which was a win in Caduceus' book. Caduceus then mostly left him alone for the rest of the day, because he finally seemed eager to actually rest rather than shove himself out of bed, and Caduceus didn't accidentally want to encourage him to push himself too hard by walking around him constantly and flexing his independence. Besides, there was always gardening to do, and headstones to clean, and Caduceus was very good at filling his time.