[CR] Tried and True
Nov. 5th, 2019 06:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Title: Tried and True
Universe: Critical Role, Campaign Two, during episode 50
Characters: Caduceus Clay, Caleb Widogast, Nott the Brave
Rated: K+
Description: Uncertainty was new to Caduceus, but being around the Mighty Nein, and especially around Caleb Widogast, often left him a little confused.
For ClayLeb week, day 5, Heart to Heart, posted out of order to match the chronological
There was something about Caleb's half-vacant stare which tugged on Caduceus' heart strings in a way he had no word to illustrate. It invoked an odd sensation, like a problem that needed fixing, only Caduceus did not know which steps to take, or why he felt like it was his problem to handle and not Beau's or Nott's.
Caduceus fiddled with the book in his lap. Now was about the time he and Caleb read together, as most of the party was asleep, and it was quiet and peaceful. However, Caduceus found it hard to tell if such a thing would be welcome at the moment. Caleb was hard to read on the best of days, and as of late, even harder.
Still.
Caduceus didn't want to leave Caleb with his dark thoughts, whatever they were. He had a decent imagination, given what Caleb had revealed to them, but Caduceus figured his imagination couldn't hold a candle to whatever actually haunted Caleb's dreams. And, well, Caleb had the unfortunate tendency to lock himself in his head.
Which was probably the worst place to be right now.
Uncertainty was new to Caduceus.
Until he met the Mighty Nein, he'd been confident of every choice. Now, he wavered. He second-guessed himself, and his choices. Though he was confident of his path, he was less confident of the route he was taking to get there.
“Hello, Mr. Clay.”
Caduceus blinked and looked up, his face probably registering his surprise. Had he thought Caleb into action? “Oh. Hello.” He smiled, though he was careful to keep his voice soft in deference to their sleeping companions. “Something wrong?”
“No, no, nothing’s wrong,” Caleb said, and he took a deep breath, his gaze falling to Caduceus’ lap. “I -- ah -- noticed you had your book there, and I realized what time it was.”
Caduceus gave the book a little wiggle. “Yeah, I was gonna ask, but I know you have a lot on your mind right now, so I thought maybe I ought not to.”
Caleb was shaking his head before Caduceus finished speaking, his eyes heavy with apology, even as he rubbed his hand over one of his forearms, where the scars hid beneath his bandages. “Letting my mind percolate is maybe the worst thing I could do right now.”
Well, they were of one mind on that thought at least.
Caduceus scooted over a little, making room beside him, careful not to jostle Yasha on his other side too much. She did tend to wake with battle in mind, and he had no interest in meeting the sharp end of her blade.
“If you’re sure, I mean, I’d love to keep going,” Caduceus said.
“I could honestly use the normalcy.” Caleb took the invitation, sitting down beside Caduceus, curling his legs beneath him. “Speaking of, how are you doing?”
“Me?” Caduceus blinked, and contemplated the question. “I suppose I’m fine all things considered. I’m not sure I like being underground for extended periods of time, but it’s survivable. What about you?”
Caleb offered a dry laugh, but Caduceus detected no humor in it. “I am alive. I will survive. That is good enough for now.” He dragged a thumb over his bandaged forearm, an action seemingly without conscious intent. “The rest we can work toward, ja?”
“All very true statements,” Caduceus agreed, and he flipped the book open to the last chapter he had marked. “I was trying to read this a bit on my own, but I got stuck on some of the words again.”
Caleb leaned in, close enough for their thighs to touch, his head tilted as he looked at the word Caduceus indicated. He had to brush his hair out of his eyes. It was getting long; he might want to consider a braid or tying it back.
Caduceus would mention it later.
“Malfeasance,” Caleb said, and he wrinkled his nose. “Yes, that is a complicated word. It means, eh, it means, you know, when someone who is lawful does something that is not lawful. So I’m guessing in this context, this Lord Talmun broke the law to cause this effect.”
Caduceus squinted at the passage and tilted his head. “Oh. well, that makes sense.” He huffed a little sigh. “Why do they have to use complicated words to say simple things?”
Caleb laughed, though it was a quiet, raspy thing -- like it hadn’t seen much use and was rusty on the process. “I don’t know, Mr. Clay. That is the nature of academics, I suppose. It’s a good question.”
“Is it?” Caduceus asked. He wasn’t used to people telling him he asked good questions. His sisters had always informed him he asked stupid ones.
“It is to me,” Caleb said and tapped the page again. “Why don’t you read aloud to me? When you stumble, I will help you.”
The first time Caleb suggested it, Caduceus had balked on principle alone. His ears had flattened before he could stop them, and he’d withdrawn. The very idea of reading aloud had brought back uncomfortable memories. But Caleb had offered to help. He didn’t appear to be teasing, and the request was genuine.
So Caduceus tried. Halting at first, but with growing confidence when Caleb’s assistance was gentle and instructive, rather than mocking.
Caleb was so smart, but he never made Caduceus feel like an idiot.
“I think I’m getting better, thanks to you,” Caduceus said as he found where he’d last left off, and put his finger on the word. It helped him to follow along if he tracked the sentences with his finger, otherwise his eyes would wander all over the page.
“Well, I happen to have a good student,” Caleb said, and his lips twitched toward a smile, which meant the distraction was working.
Heat bloomed inside Caduceus’ chest. He wasn’t sure why. It was an odd sensation. So he ignored it and focused on reading instead.
He read aloud, quietly so as not to wake the others, but enough so Caleb could hear him, occasionally correcting his pronunciation or defining a word when Caduceus stumbled or asked. He leaned closer, until they were pressed shoulder to arm to thigh, and it was nice, this comfortable intimacy.
Caduceus had almost forgotten how it felt, just to be close to someone.
“--and the root structure has shown a particular aptitude for put-- putre-- Mr. Caleb. I don’t know this word,” Caduceus said, and he waited for Caleb’s reply, only to hear a quiet snuffle, like that of someone snoring.
He blinked, lifting his head from the book, eyes taking a moment to adjust. In the dim glow of the magical hut, everyone else was asleep, and though Beau was prone to snoring, Jester had elbowed her earlier, and she’d rolled over, muffling the noise.
Caduceus looked down at Caleb, at the weight of Caleb’s head on his shoulder, and realized the wizard was fast asleep, his eyelids shuttered, his face slack with rest. He looked peaceful. Comfortable.
Caduceus did not want to disturb him.
‘It’s okay, Mr. Caleb, we can figure it out tomorrow,” Caduceus whispered and carefully marked his spot. He closed the book, trying not to jostle Caleb much.
As warm as the dome was, however, it was chilly underground. Their party threw off a lot of ambient heat, but Caleb had left his bedroll next to Beau, and his thin, tattered coat could not possibly be enough.
Ever so carefully, Caduceus lifted his arm and adjusted, shifting to tuck Caleb against his side. He stilled when Caleb’s forehead scrunched, but otherwise, the wizard didn’t wake, and Caduceus managed to successfully get him into a more comfortable position with Caduceus’ arm to serve as something like a blanket.
He supposed it would be more logical to wake Caleb and make him move to his bedroll, but Caduceus found himself unwilling to do so. He liked the warmth of the wizard near him, liked knowing Caleb felt comfortable enough to doze off on his shoulder.
It felt like trust.
Someone trusted him.
The thought sent another warm flush through his body. Maybe he was getting ill? Though Caduceus couldn’t remember a time he’d gotten sick since he became an adult and outgrew his frequent, childhood illnesses.
Movement in his periphery caught his eye.
Caduceus turned his head just as Nott poked her own out of her bedroll, ears perked, as though her Caleb-danger senses had woken her from sleep. She looked where Caleb had been, saw his empty bedroll, and squeaked as she leapt from her own.
“He’s right here,” Caduceus said, trying to project his voice to her and her alone, and gestured with his free hand to the wizard now drooling on his shirt.
Nott’s gaze swung his way in an instant. Her eyes widened and then narrowed, before she seemed to deflate. She swept up her pack, dug around in it, then produced a blanket before she tiptoed her way through their sleeping companions.
“He’s actually sleeping?” she whispered.
“Seems to be,” Caduceus said. “Didn’t want to wake him.”
Nott squinted at him, like she was giving him a good, hard look. “You didn’t cast a spell on him, did you?”
Caduceus laughed quietly. “I don’t usually pack sleep, and I didn’t today. Don’t worry. I think he’s just exhausted.” He was, after all, their squishy wizard, and his constitution wasn’t the best by comparison.
“Alright. If you say so.” Nott gave him another suspicious look, but instead of waking Caleb and making him move, she draped the blanket over him. “No funny business, Mr. Clay. You hear me?”
Caduceus blinked at her. “I don’t know what’s funny about letting Mr. Caleb get some much needed rest, but okay.”
Nott looked up from tucking the blanket around Caleb and tilted her head, her eyes bright and cutting, like she was trying to peer into his soul. “Just don’t hurt him.”
“That I can promise I will never do,” Caduceus said, and gave her his most reassuring smile. “Why don’t you get back to bed? I’ll watch over him.”
Nott sighed and brushed some of Caleb’s hair out of his face, something she must have done often enough before because he didn’t stir at her touch. “I’m trusting you. Don’t let me down.”
“I’ll try not to.”
Nott lingered for another moment more, as though she was undecided, before she picked her way back through their sleeping companions, curling into a ball near Caleb’s abandoned bedroll, her back to Jester’s.
Caduceus felt the weight of her gaze until Nott finally drifted off into sleep, leaving Caduceus the last of the Mighty Nein awake. Well, except for Frumpkin, sitting guard atop the dome, his furry body visible through the translucent magic.
Caduceus couldn’t see the stars, but he imagined it was a nice night.
A very nice night indeed.
****
Universe: Critical Role, Campaign Two, during episode 50
Characters: Caduceus Clay, Caleb Widogast, Nott the Brave
Rated: K+
Description: Uncertainty was new to Caduceus, but being around the Mighty Nein, and especially around Caleb Widogast, often left him a little confused.
For ClayLeb week, day 5, Heart to Heart, posted out of order to match the chronological
There was something about Caleb's half-vacant stare which tugged on Caduceus' heart strings in a way he had no word to illustrate. It invoked an odd sensation, like a problem that needed fixing, only Caduceus did not know which steps to take, or why he felt like it was his problem to handle and not Beau's or Nott's.
Caduceus fiddled with the book in his lap. Now was about the time he and Caleb read together, as most of the party was asleep, and it was quiet and peaceful. However, Caduceus found it hard to tell if such a thing would be welcome at the moment. Caleb was hard to read on the best of days, and as of late, even harder.
Still.
Caduceus didn't want to leave Caleb with his dark thoughts, whatever they were. He had a decent imagination, given what Caleb had revealed to them, but Caduceus figured his imagination couldn't hold a candle to whatever actually haunted Caleb's dreams. And, well, Caleb had the unfortunate tendency to lock himself in his head.
Which was probably the worst place to be right now.
Uncertainty was new to Caduceus.
Until he met the Mighty Nein, he'd been confident of every choice. Now, he wavered. He second-guessed himself, and his choices. Though he was confident of his path, he was less confident of the route he was taking to get there.
“Hello, Mr. Clay.”
Caduceus blinked and looked up, his face probably registering his surprise. Had he thought Caleb into action? “Oh. Hello.” He smiled, though he was careful to keep his voice soft in deference to their sleeping companions. “Something wrong?”
“No, no, nothing’s wrong,” Caleb said, and he took a deep breath, his gaze falling to Caduceus’ lap. “I -- ah -- noticed you had your book there, and I realized what time it was.”
Caduceus gave the book a little wiggle. “Yeah, I was gonna ask, but I know you have a lot on your mind right now, so I thought maybe I ought not to.”
Caleb was shaking his head before Caduceus finished speaking, his eyes heavy with apology, even as he rubbed his hand over one of his forearms, where the scars hid beneath his bandages. “Letting my mind percolate is maybe the worst thing I could do right now.”
Well, they were of one mind on that thought at least.
Caduceus scooted over a little, making room beside him, careful not to jostle Yasha on his other side too much. She did tend to wake with battle in mind, and he had no interest in meeting the sharp end of her blade.
“If you’re sure, I mean, I’d love to keep going,” Caduceus said.
“I could honestly use the normalcy.” Caleb took the invitation, sitting down beside Caduceus, curling his legs beneath him. “Speaking of, how are you doing?”
“Me?” Caduceus blinked, and contemplated the question. “I suppose I’m fine all things considered. I’m not sure I like being underground for extended periods of time, but it’s survivable. What about you?”
Caleb offered a dry laugh, but Caduceus detected no humor in it. “I am alive. I will survive. That is good enough for now.” He dragged a thumb over his bandaged forearm, an action seemingly without conscious intent. “The rest we can work toward, ja?”
“All very true statements,” Caduceus agreed, and he flipped the book open to the last chapter he had marked. “I was trying to read this a bit on my own, but I got stuck on some of the words again.”
Caleb leaned in, close enough for their thighs to touch, his head tilted as he looked at the word Caduceus indicated. He had to brush his hair out of his eyes. It was getting long; he might want to consider a braid or tying it back.
Caduceus would mention it later.
“Malfeasance,” Caleb said, and he wrinkled his nose. “Yes, that is a complicated word. It means, eh, it means, you know, when someone who is lawful does something that is not lawful. So I’m guessing in this context, this Lord Talmun broke the law to cause this effect.”
Caduceus squinted at the passage and tilted his head. “Oh. well, that makes sense.” He huffed a little sigh. “Why do they have to use complicated words to say simple things?”
Caleb laughed, though it was a quiet, raspy thing -- like it hadn’t seen much use and was rusty on the process. “I don’t know, Mr. Clay. That is the nature of academics, I suppose. It’s a good question.”
“Is it?” Caduceus asked. He wasn’t used to people telling him he asked good questions. His sisters had always informed him he asked stupid ones.
“It is to me,” Caleb said and tapped the page again. “Why don’t you read aloud to me? When you stumble, I will help you.”
The first time Caleb suggested it, Caduceus had balked on principle alone. His ears had flattened before he could stop them, and he’d withdrawn. The very idea of reading aloud had brought back uncomfortable memories. But Caleb had offered to help. He didn’t appear to be teasing, and the request was genuine.
So Caduceus tried. Halting at first, but with growing confidence when Caleb’s assistance was gentle and instructive, rather than mocking.
Caleb was so smart, but he never made Caduceus feel like an idiot.
“I think I’m getting better, thanks to you,” Caduceus said as he found where he’d last left off, and put his finger on the word. It helped him to follow along if he tracked the sentences with his finger, otherwise his eyes would wander all over the page.
“Well, I happen to have a good student,” Caleb said, and his lips twitched toward a smile, which meant the distraction was working.
Heat bloomed inside Caduceus’ chest. He wasn’t sure why. It was an odd sensation. So he ignored it and focused on reading instead.
He read aloud, quietly so as not to wake the others, but enough so Caleb could hear him, occasionally correcting his pronunciation or defining a word when Caduceus stumbled or asked. He leaned closer, until they were pressed shoulder to arm to thigh, and it was nice, this comfortable intimacy.
Caduceus had almost forgotten how it felt, just to be close to someone.
“--and the root structure has shown a particular aptitude for put-- putre-- Mr. Caleb. I don’t know this word,” Caduceus said, and he waited for Caleb’s reply, only to hear a quiet snuffle, like that of someone snoring.
He blinked, lifting his head from the book, eyes taking a moment to adjust. In the dim glow of the magical hut, everyone else was asleep, and though Beau was prone to snoring, Jester had elbowed her earlier, and she’d rolled over, muffling the noise.
Caduceus looked down at Caleb, at the weight of Caleb’s head on his shoulder, and realized the wizard was fast asleep, his eyelids shuttered, his face slack with rest. He looked peaceful. Comfortable.
Caduceus did not want to disturb him.
‘It’s okay, Mr. Caleb, we can figure it out tomorrow,” Caduceus whispered and carefully marked his spot. He closed the book, trying not to jostle Caleb much.
As warm as the dome was, however, it was chilly underground. Their party threw off a lot of ambient heat, but Caleb had left his bedroll next to Beau, and his thin, tattered coat could not possibly be enough.
Ever so carefully, Caduceus lifted his arm and adjusted, shifting to tuck Caleb against his side. He stilled when Caleb’s forehead scrunched, but otherwise, the wizard didn’t wake, and Caduceus managed to successfully get him into a more comfortable position with Caduceus’ arm to serve as something like a blanket.
He supposed it would be more logical to wake Caleb and make him move to his bedroll, but Caduceus found himself unwilling to do so. He liked the warmth of the wizard near him, liked knowing Caleb felt comfortable enough to doze off on his shoulder.
It felt like trust.
Someone trusted him.
The thought sent another warm flush through his body. Maybe he was getting ill? Though Caduceus couldn’t remember a time he’d gotten sick since he became an adult and outgrew his frequent, childhood illnesses.
Movement in his periphery caught his eye.
Caduceus turned his head just as Nott poked her own out of her bedroll, ears perked, as though her Caleb-danger senses had woken her from sleep. She looked where Caleb had been, saw his empty bedroll, and squeaked as she leapt from her own.
“He’s right here,” Caduceus said, trying to project his voice to her and her alone, and gestured with his free hand to the wizard now drooling on his shirt.
Nott’s gaze swung his way in an instant. Her eyes widened and then narrowed, before she seemed to deflate. She swept up her pack, dug around in it, then produced a blanket before she tiptoed her way through their sleeping companions.
“He’s actually sleeping?” she whispered.
“Seems to be,” Caduceus said. “Didn’t want to wake him.”
Nott squinted at him, like she was giving him a good, hard look. “You didn’t cast a spell on him, did you?”
Caduceus laughed quietly. “I don’t usually pack sleep, and I didn’t today. Don’t worry. I think he’s just exhausted.” He was, after all, their squishy wizard, and his constitution wasn’t the best by comparison.
“Alright. If you say so.” Nott gave him another suspicious look, but instead of waking Caleb and making him move, she draped the blanket over him. “No funny business, Mr. Clay. You hear me?”
Caduceus blinked at her. “I don’t know what’s funny about letting Mr. Caleb get some much needed rest, but okay.”
Nott looked up from tucking the blanket around Caleb and tilted her head, her eyes bright and cutting, like she was trying to peer into his soul. “Just don’t hurt him.”
“That I can promise I will never do,” Caduceus said, and gave her his most reassuring smile. “Why don’t you get back to bed? I’ll watch over him.”
Nott sighed and brushed some of Caleb’s hair out of his face, something she must have done often enough before because he didn’t stir at her touch. “I’m trusting you. Don’t let me down.”
“I’ll try not to.”
Nott lingered for another moment more, as though she was undecided, before she picked her way back through their sleeping companions, curling into a ball near Caleb’s abandoned bedroll, her back to Jester’s.
Caduceus felt the weight of her gaze until Nott finally drifted off into sleep, leaving Caduceus the last of the Mighty Nein awake. Well, except for Frumpkin, sitting guard atop the dome, his furry body visible through the translucent magic.
Caduceus couldn’t see the stars, but he imagined it was a nice night.
A very nice night indeed.
