[CR] Patience Rewards
Jan. 18th, 2020 06:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Title: Patience Rewards
Universe: Critical Role, Season Two
Characters: Caduceus Clay/Fjord, The Mighty Nein
Rated: K+
Description: Fjord doesn’t know what to call this thing brewing inside of him, but he might just be brave enough to take a chance on it.
Chaos, Fjord thinks, is pretty much what the Mighty Nein is about. They don’t know how to function if they aren’t causing or existing in the midst of some kind of chaos. It makes for a stressful life, jumping from one bit of madness to the next. They don’t get a lot of downtime.
They’ve all learned to take what comfort and relaxation when and where they can. Nott drinks, despite their disapproval. Caleb buries himself in a book. Beau works out until she’s covered in sweat, and her muscles ache. Jester draws in her notebook and plays silly pranks. Yasha, when she was with them, stands out in the rain and does whatever it is Yasha does. Caduceus meditates.
And Fjord...
For a while, he doesn’t really have anything he can do. He floats around a few possibilities. But picking at his tusks isn’t good for him, and he doesn’t have the focus for reading or meditating. He’s not great at taking it easy, truth be told, and it doesn’t help that Uk’otoa is sort of the god of making his rest-time pretty damn terrifying.
Then there’s a light in the dark. He discovers it purely by accident.
It’s no secret he’s gained a new understanding with Caduceus. It’s thanks to Deuces that Fjord helped figure out how to loosen the chains of his contract with Uk’otoa, how he found the Wildmother, how he got this ridiculously powered sword. Deuces has been guiding him a lot, and Fjord doesn’t know if it’s because he’s the Wildmother’s favorite or what, but Fjord likes to nap near Caduceus, because it feels safe.
He’d never say that aloud, because it sounds like a stupid thing to say, but. Well. Caduceus just has this aura. This indescribable thing about him which means calm and safety, and Fjord may or may not stealthily wiggle his way closer to Caduceus to take advantage of that.
It’s purely accidental if anyone asks. Especially if Beau asks.
But that’s not even the most relaxing thing. The real discovery is what happens when Fjord lays near Caduceus while he’s meditating. It’s pretty hard to shake Deuces out of his trance. He can be focused when he wants to be, and especially when he’s communing with the Wildmother. Even his scarily accurate perception takes a step back.
The first time Fjord wriggles his way down into a nap near the meditating Caduceus, he soaks up that relaxing aura, and he sighs into his bedroll, expecting a peaceful doze. He is not, however, ready for the hand which unconsciously reaches over and pets him. Just his head though.
Fjord startles at first, until he realizes how fucking good it feels. Then he goes absolutely still lest Caduceus wake up and realize what he’s doing and stop. A little hum threatens to rise up in his chest as Deuces drags those long fingers of his over Fjord’s scalp, his blunt nails scratching at the perfect pressure. He cards through Fjord’s hair, strokes behind his ears, sweeps down the nape of his neck and back again...
It’s impossibly soothing. It puts Fjord right to sleep, or at least, right into a state of comfort that's near sleep and just as restful.
But then, Caduceus comes out of it, and startles with embarrassed surprise. He takes his hand back, and Fjord jerks out of the comfortable fugue, looking up into Caduceus’ flushing face.
His ears sink down. “I apologize, I don’t know what came over me,” Caduceus says, his deep voice rumbling through the space between them.
And Fjord stammers, "It's all right. I don't mind. It was nice." He should probably move away, but he’s really comfortable, and that sounds like effort.
"Nice," Caduceus echoes, and he smiles that big, genuine smile of his. "I thought you were Frumpkin."
Fjord laughs before he can help himself, and Caduceus quirks his lips and gives that quiet chuckle. "Except I don't purr," he says.
"Hmm." Caduceus' ears flick up, back to their usual. "Maybe you do, and you just don't know it."
"Could be we should, um, find out," Fjord says, because he's only smooth and charming when it doesn't mean anything, at least, not anything personal to him. When he's genuine, he stammers and he trips over his words, and he makes a fool of himself.
He supposes Caduceus doesn't mind fools. He's still with them after all.
Caduceus tucks a stray hair behind his ear. "If it doesn't bother you, I'll let my hand wander in the future, when you're nearby," he says, and it's an invitation if Fjord ever heard one.
Problem is, after the first couple of times he gets the soothing strokes in, everyone else figures it out, too, and there starts to be a scrap over who gets the gentle petting. He swears he saw Beau bite Jester over it once, though both of them deny it. Even Caleb gets in on it, though he likes to pretend it was an accident.
Fjord has to bide his time, wait until they're on watch or the others are occupied, and even then, he feels a little self-conscious knowing he wants the same comfort everyone else does. But it's weird, because if Jester sees him making his circular route toward Caduceus, suddenly she finds it really important to ask Beau for help getting firewood or whatever. Caleb then summons Frumpkin and starts cooing to him, and Nott thinks cleaning her crossbow is a thing of utmost importance.
No one says a word when Fjord sits next to Caduceus or when he makes a show of yawning and stretching out, head conveniently placed near a wandering hand. Caduceus knows what everyone wants by now, so it's with a hidden smile that he reaches over and buries his fingers in Fjord's hair, stroking and scratching his scalp, and generally being perfect about it.
Caduceus' fingers are soft, probably because of the gloves he's taken to wearing, and they smell like tea and dirt. They stroke around Fjord's ears, down the sides of his face, across his nape and throat, his collarbone.
Once, Fjord watches Caduceus in a haze, Caduceus who's calmly sipping tea with his other hand while he watches Beau and Nott's antics, Fjord's not even sure what they're doing. He vaguely hears noise and arguing while Jester giggles and Caleb offers his two copper's worth, but it's not something that needs his attention.
"You don't mind?" Fjord asks, though his tongue feels heavy in his mouth, and he struggles to surface from this place of quiet and comfort.
"Mind what?" Caduceus asks, after a moment, ears flicking as though he's registered a bit too late that Fjord had spoken to him.
"You know. This," Fjord says, making a vague gesture, because he doesn't know how else to say 'people cuddling you for attention without offering anything in return'.
"Oh. This. No, it's nice," Caduceus says, because everything is nice, except when it isn't. "It's the little things," he says, in that occasional burst of wise profoundness he has. "It's like caring without being overbearing. And it soothes me, too."
Fjord rolls over onto his back, staring up at the stars through the trees, and Caduceus' fingers shift with him, moving to stroke over his face, fluttering over his forehead, his cheek ridges, his jaw where he's no hope of growing decent facial hair. It's not in his blood.
"You don't feel cheated or taken advantage of?" Fjord asks, because they do. They rely on Caduceus a lot, to be their stability, their rock, their source of calm in a riotous sea.
"I don't feel forced," Caduceus says.
They aren't the same thing, but Fjord supposes that's just the way Caduceus is. Sometimes, he answers the unasked question, and it answers the asked one, too.
His fingers absently brush over Fjord's lips, and a little jolt runs through Fjord's body, straight to the pit of his belly where warmth resides whenever he's close to Caduceus. He has the most ridiculous urge to lick Caduceus' finger before it's gone again, and Fjord's face heats.
He coughs and clears his throat to disguise the weirdness, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck as Caduceus' hand drifts away, and Fjord tries not to regret the loss. "If you ever want one of us to return the favor, just say it. I'm sure all of us would be happy to do it."
"That could be nice," Caduceus hums, head tilted in the way it does when he's thinking long and hard about something. He's got to churn things around in his brain sometimes, Caduceus does. He's not dumb just... slower to conclusions.
“Yeah,” Caduceus finally says. “I think I’d like that,” and Fjord secretly vows that he’ll drop everything if Caduceus ever asks for a bit of comfort. He certainly deserves it.
He doesn’t expect Caduceus to take him up on the offer, however. Or at least so soon. Sometimes, he forgets Caduceus stumbles like the rest of them, and for as much as he talks about death and the inevitability of it and how it’s the natural order of things, Fjord’s pretty sure Caduceus actually isn’t in a hurry to die.
So a week later, after a particularly rough battle where Caduceus had nearly died again (he seems to attract death), Caduceus sits next to Fjord and says, “Is that offer still open?”
Fjord blinks, confused, until he puts it together, and heat steals into the tips of his ears. “Yeah. Sure. My fingers are, uh, yours to use. You’ll have to get a little lower though.”
“Oh. Right.” Caduceus sets aside his shield, his staff, some of his armor. He stretches out beside Fjord, resting his head on Fjord’s thigh without a bit of self-consciousness. “Will this do?”
Fjord’s face burns.
"As long as you're comfortable," he says because his heart has started this weird pitter-pattering rhythm and he’s not so stupid as to not know what it means, he’s just a little surprised by it, and well, he supposes it makes sense.
All things considered.
"Yeah, I think I am," Caduceus says, and his eyes flutter shut, his ears going lax as he folds his hands over his belly. "You're right. This is relaxing."
"I haven't even started," Fjord says, but he lowers his hand and cards his fingers through Caduceus' hair which is far softer than he would have thought.
He's tentative at first, but when Caduceus doesn't do anything more than sink a bit further into himself and tilt toward Fjord's hand, he supposes he's doing all right. He tries to copy what Caduceus had done for him -- petting his hair, gently scratching his scalp, softly stroking over and around his ears, and Caduceus lets out a low, rumbly sound which has no business being so charming.
Fjord sneaks a glance at everyone else, but Nott stands sentinel, crossbow in hand, staring away from their party. Beau and Jess have collapsed in an exhausted pile, and Caleb is already snoring, safe in their bubble. None of them pay attention to he and Caduceus. It's suspicious how much they aren't paying attention.
"Um, how's that?" Fjord asks, his voice strangely quiet, like he's trying not to disturb anyone or he's trying to hide what he's doing, which is ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with comforting Caduceus, but it still feels like an intimate moment he doesn't want anyone to disturb.
"It's nice," Caduceus hums, sounding sleepy. His eyes are shut, his face slack with relaxation. "Thank you."
"It's only fair, right?" Fjord says, and then on impulse, touches the side of Caduceus' face gently, calling the Wildpower's magic to his fingertips, the small warmth of it he's earned in his service so far.
Caduceus' ears flick, like they do when he's happy with something, and he smiles really soft. There's another purring rumble, and Fjord wonders what it would be like to kiss him, with that sweet smile on his lips.
"You're learning," he says, with sheer approval and delight, and somehow, it doesn't feel condescending when it comes from Caduceus.
"Thanks to you," Fjord says as he threads his fingers through Caduceus' hair, combing it out and gently working free the snarls.
Caduceus hums, tilting into his fingers like Frumpkin seeking more pets, not that Fjord would know as he keeps himself far from the feline. “I only offered a path. You’re the one who accepted it. Everything you have done is by your own strength.”
Fjord’s heart beats a little faster. Affection rises in him, crawls up his throat, sits heavy on his tongue. “I… uh, thanks.”
“For what?”
“Believing in me, I suppose. Don’t have much of a history of that.”
Caduceus looks at him, and Fjord’s relieved there isn’t any pity in his eyes. He doesn’t know if he can handle pity. “Well, you have it now,” he says. “We all believe in you.”
Fjord smiles before he can stop himself, and plays a bit with the braid in Caduceus’ hair. It’s a new style he’s picked up since they started staying in Rosohna, and Fjord likes it. They’ve all given themselves a bit of a new look, like they’re remaking themselves.
It’s about time.
“Yeah, well, we believe in you, too,” Fjord blurts out before he can stop himself, and his face burns as Caduceus chuckles, and Fjord stares hard at Nott’s back as she paces back and forth, alert to their surroundings despite the protection Caleb’s spell offers them.
“Thank you,” Caduceus says.
Eventually, Caduceus murmurs something about needing rest, and he curls into his bedroll next to Fjord and falls asleep as though catching his dreams is as easy as one breath and the next. Fjord watches him for a bit, but not in a creepy way. He just sort of… stares in Caduceus’ direction and thinks about Caduceus and envies his confidence.
Nott catches him looking and waggles her eyebrows at him, so Fjord rolls his eyes, wraps himself in his bedroll, and lays down, too. His back is to Caduceus, but if he wriggles just a bit, its purely an accident as he notches up against Caduceus, swearing he can feel the warmth of the firbolg through their respective bedrolls.
He falls asleep to the sound of Caduceus’ quiet snuffling, not quite a snore, but not silent breathing either.
It’s as simple as that.
Sometimes, there’s a fight over who gets to lay down next to Caduceus and indulge in the wonderful head rubs, something Caduceus recognizes by now and gives a soft chuckle over. He likes it, Fjord thinks. He likes that they rely on him for this, and they trust him to offer comfort.
And sometimes.
Sometimes Fjord sits down and Caduceus plops down next to him, and says, in a quiet voice, “do you mind if I…?” and Fjord pats him on the shoulder or the thigh or the arm or whatever’s in reach and says, “Whatever you want, I’m here for you” and he gets that soft sweet smile, and a good thirty minutes of playing with Caduceus’ hair and stroking his ears.
It’s enough, Fjord thinks. It’s nice, and it’s comfortable, and he has no interest in, er, rocking the boat, so to speak. Even if makes his insides go all squirmy, and his heart decide to beat faster and faster, and his face to get hot. Beau keeps giving him knowing looks, and Nott wriggles her eyebrows at him, and Jester smiles, soft and sweet and kind of sad, though there’s no reason for the latter.
“He doesn’t come to any of us, you know,” Jester says one day when they’re filling up everyone’s waterskins, having been volunteered for it on Beau’s insistence. “And I’ve offered a lot. I’m good at comforting, too! But he only comes to you.”
“Really?” Fjord thinks about it.
He supposes she’s right. He can’t recall a single time Caduceus has gone to Jester or Beau or Caleb or Nott, even though any of them wouldn’t begrudge him the need for comfort. Jester, especially, is quick to offer it.
He always comes straight to Fjord.
“Huh,” Fjord says, and maybe his face heats a little, and his heart skips a few beats. He scratches the side of his cheek. “I guess I just have a better calmness to me.”
Jester rolls her eyes and punches him on the shoulder -- only slightly less bruiseworthy than Beau, but honestly, not by much. “That’s not it, and you know it!” she says, shaking her finger at him. “Don’t you hurt him, Fjord.”
“What are you even talking about, Jess?” Fjord asks, playing dumb. It comes easy to him sometimes. Easier than it ought.
She narrows her eyes and bares her fangs, and she can be scary when she wants to be. She pretends to be cute and innocent, and she is both, but also, she’s pretty damn frightening and powerful, and Fjord envies her a lot.
“Don’t give me that, I’m not falling for it,” she says, and scoops up all the waterskins, her tail flicking like an agitated cat. “I’m going to tell Beau you’re being stupid and let her deal with you,” she says, in a huff, and flounces off.
Fjord sighs and scoops up the one she dropped in the mud -- his, of course, she’s not that clumsy -- and rinses off the exterior before tucking it back into his pack.
He’s not being stupid. He’s not naive. He knows what it means, when his heart flutters, and he loses control of his tongue, and his face warms around Caduceus. He knows what it means that he falls asleep next to the firbolg, and is eager to run his fingers through Caduceus’ hair, and maybe leans a little too close to soak up Caduceus’ warmth or inhale the dirt-tea-metal scent of him.
He knows what it means. He’s maybe a little afraid of it.
He goes back to where the rest of the Nein waits, and threats or not, Beau doesn’t say anything, but Fjord can feel the weight of her stare as she and Jester look at him. Caduceus is blissfully unaware -- he’s found a patch of moss growing on a tree, and he’d been talking to it last Fjord saw, which has gone from ridiculous to adorable.
Caleb, however, sidles up to Fjord. “Er,” he says, in that halting way he does, with a side eyed look. “I am afraid to ask, but what did you do?”
Fjord sighs. “It’s what I didn’t do, I believe.”
“Ah,” Caleb says, but his forehead crinkles again.
“Or maybe what I haven’t done yet, or what I’m going to do,” Fjord says, because he’s honestly not sure. There’s a great road spread out in front of him, and there are a couple paths, they all eventually lead to the same place, but how he gets there.
How he gets there is the challenge.
“Hm,” Caleb says, and gives him an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Good luck then.” He shuffles away, and Fjord supposes for Caleb, that’s pretty darn comforting.
Luck is something Fjord needs, though he doesn’t expect anything to change. He expects to keep on the same way they have been, neither of them saying anything, and no one saying anything outright, because they’ve enough complications without this… this thing that’s brewing like a storm on the horizon, or a pot of tea over a steadily growing flame.
Fjord can’t pinpoint exactly what changes his mind.
Is it losing Yasha, again and again?
Is it watching Caleb deal with a ghost of his past?
Is it seeing Nott reunite with her husband and child, only to have to leave them all over again?
Is it Jester, finally getting to see her mother once more?
Is it Beau who worries about her family in Kamordah as much as she tells herself she doesn’t want to care?
Is it none of them?
He doesn’t know.
There’s no terrible battle which sends Caduceus to him this time. They’re tired and worn, but blessedly free of impending threats for once. It’s a respite, between one terrible thing and the next. Caduceus seems as cheerful as Caduceus can be, so Fjord doesn’t expect he’ll be seeking comfort tonight, and Jester’s been eyeing him all day like she’s going to snag the petting spot before anyone else can.
So Fjord’s as surprised as anyone when Caduceus sits down next to him with a soft sigh and a gentle smile. He looks over at Star Razor, balanced across Fjord’s knees, and gently touches the hilt like greeting an old friend.
“I knew it would suit you,” Caduceus says before he pulls his hand back, and it doesn’t make a lick of sense, but Fjord swears he can feel the warmth of Caduceus’ touch. “Are you communing?”
Fjord gives him a lopsided grin. “Not really. I was just admiring it.” He passes his hand over the blade and it shatters into a light fall of snow, which evaporates before it touches anything. “I need the reminder sometimes. That it really happened, I mean.”
“Mm.” Caduceus hums, and he fidgets a little, but there’s no subterfuge in him, he’s not good at it. “If you’re busy I can--”
“What, no. I’m not busy. Swear it.” Fjord chuckles, and it’s a stupid, nervous sound, so he covers it up by patting his thigh. “My talented hands are all yours if you want them.” He tilts his head. “Everything all right?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine,” Caduceus says as he shifts around and decides how he wants to lay down, like a cat who has to turn in a circle several times before choosing somewhere to sleep. He eventually settles on his back, his head in the cradle of Fjord’s legs, folded lotus beneath him.
Fjord waits, because it seems like Caduceus is going to add something more. But he doesn’t. He just squirms until he’s comfortable, and looks up at Fjord with warmth in his eyes, and trust in the lazy sprawl of his lanky body.
“Well, I mean, everything isn’t fine,” Caduceus says after a moment, when Fjord’s fingers thread through his hair, careful of his talons like always. They’re good for working out knots, but he doesn’t want to scratch too hard. “We’re kind of in a mess, but at the moment, everything is fine.”
Fjord considers that.
Caduceus is right. They are in the midst of strain and tension and worry but at the moment, they are all in a fair mood. Jester has gone to scribbling in her journal, grinning and chuckling to herself over some secret joke. Caleb has his nose buried in a book, one of the ones they found for him a while back. Nott’s playing with her chemicals, and the occasional sour or acrid smell of whatever she’s mixing floats Fjord’s direction, but she’s got a look of mad glee on her face, so he’s not inclined to stop her.
Beau’s working out. For her, it’s not torture. It’s actually fun.
There’s still an empty place where Yasha would usually be, sharpening her sword, or flipping through her flower book, or meditating quietly.
But Caduceus is right.
At the moment, everything is fine.
“Then I guess you just like my hands in your hair,” Fjord says, before he can think twice about it, with a smile and a little laugh, and gods, it’s far too forward, but it’s too late to take it back.
Caduceus chuckles quietly. “I guess I do,” he says, his eyes fluttering open, and he looks up at Fjord and there’s a moment.
Just a moment.
He wants to kiss Caduceus. Right here, right now. Himself leaning over a bit to see Caduceus’ face, his fingers buried in Caduceus’ hair, his hand resting on Caduceus’ shoulder, his thumb brushing occasionally at Caduceus’ throat, warmth between them, sweet flowers on the wind, a calm before the storm in the Mighty Nein. He wants it with a sharp, sharp longing in the center of his chest.
Caduceus is clean-shaven and bright-eyed and completely at ease, here in Fjord’s lap, and Fjord wants to kiss him.
“Fjord,” Caduceus murmurs, and Fjord drags his eyes away from Caduceus’ lips like he hasn’t just been staring at them, “I would like it very much if you kissed me,” he says, like he’s read Fjord’s mind, and Fjord still swears sometimes Caduceus always knows exactly what he’s thinking.
In this instance, he doesn’t mind one bit.
“You’re so damn weird,” he says, and then he can’t help it. He leans over, and he kisses Caduceus, like he’s been wanting to for what feels like ages.
It’s awkward.
It’s so stupidly awkward, because they’re upside down and sideways, and Caduceus’ hair is tangled around Fjord’s fingers, and then Caduceus’ hand cups the back of his neck, big and warm, and their teeth clack, and their lips fumble.
It’s awkward, and it’s perfect, and for a moment, all Fjord can do is rest his forehead against Caduceus’ and breathe.
Well.
Well, that was the most terrifying thing he’s ever done.
“You all right?” Caduceus asks as he caresses Fjord’s nape with slow, deliberate strokes, and it’s just so Caduceus that Fjord can’t help softly laughing.
“I’m perfect,” he says. “Should’ve done that sooner.”
“Well,” Caduceus says, his eyes soft with humor and affection. “I’m patient.”
Fjord kisses him again, a little more skill this time, a better angle, his lips moving against Caduceus’ gently. The heat of Caduceus’ mouth mingles with his until a distant curse shatters his calm.
By Melora.
They’re not alone.
Fjord snaps up, eyes wide, but the rest of the Mighty Nein are paying so little attention to them, he’s immediately suspicious. Nott had been the one to curse, and she’s shaking one of her hands as she hisses. Caleb stumbles her way, cooing concern in a bit of role-reversal. Beau’s moved on to pull-ups using a lowhanging branch. Jester’s sitting nearby, counting each repetition aloud.
He breathes a sigh of relief.
Fjord’s not ashamed. That’s not it. He just knows the Mighty Nein. Knows how annoying they’ll be about it. They’ll tease him relentlessly, and Jester will probably threaten him again, and Fjord doesn’t want to deal with any of it right now.
He’d rather kiss Caduceus a little more and soak up this moment. His fingers in Caduceus’ hair, the soft stroke of his thumb over Caduceus’ throat, the warmth of Caduceus’ head in his lap. And Caduceus lazily dragging his fingers over Fjord’s nape, scratching the shorter hairs there, because damn, it feels good.
Fjord sags, despite the ache in his back, eyes drifting halfway to shut. Something’s clicked quietly into place, and he wonders a bit, what the fuss was all about. A rumble starts in his chest, a quiet humming of satisfaction.
Right now, everything is fine.
Caduceus hums a soft laugh and says, “Hey, look at that. You do purr.”
Fjord’s face flames, and he buries his forehead against Caduceus’ to hide his joy. It’s stupid, so stupid.
He can’t imagine it any other way.
***
Universe: Critical Role, Season Two
Characters: Caduceus Clay/Fjord, The Mighty Nein
Rated: K+
Description: Fjord doesn’t know what to call this thing brewing inside of him, but he might just be brave enough to take a chance on it.
Chaos, Fjord thinks, is pretty much what the Mighty Nein is about. They don’t know how to function if they aren’t causing or existing in the midst of some kind of chaos. It makes for a stressful life, jumping from one bit of madness to the next. They don’t get a lot of downtime.
They’ve all learned to take what comfort and relaxation when and where they can. Nott drinks, despite their disapproval. Caleb buries himself in a book. Beau works out until she’s covered in sweat, and her muscles ache. Jester draws in her notebook and plays silly pranks. Yasha, when she was with them, stands out in the rain and does whatever it is Yasha does. Caduceus meditates.
And Fjord...
For a while, he doesn’t really have anything he can do. He floats around a few possibilities. But picking at his tusks isn’t good for him, and he doesn’t have the focus for reading or meditating. He’s not great at taking it easy, truth be told, and it doesn’t help that Uk’otoa is sort of the god of making his rest-time pretty damn terrifying.
Then there’s a light in the dark. He discovers it purely by accident.
It’s no secret he’s gained a new understanding with Caduceus. It’s thanks to Deuces that Fjord helped figure out how to loosen the chains of his contract with Uk’otoa, how he found the Wildmother, how he got this ridiculously powered sword. Deuces has been guiding him a lot, and Fjord doesn’t know if it’s because he’s the Wildmother’s favorite or what, but Fjord likes to nap near Caduceus, because it feels safe.
He’d never say that aloud, because it sounds like a stupid thing to say, but. Well. Caduceus just has this aura. This indescribable thing about him which means calm and safety, and Fjord may or may not stealthily wiggle his way closer to Caduceus to take advantage of that.
It’s purely accidental if anyone asks. Especially if Beau asks.
But that’s not even the most relaxing thing. The real discovery is what happens when Fjord lays near Caduceus while he’s meditating. It’s pretty hard to shake Deuces out of his trance. He can be focused when he wants to be, and especially when he’s communing with the Wildmother. Even his scarily accurate perception takes a step back.
The first time Fjord wriggles his way down into a nap near the meditating Caduceus, he soaks up that relaxing aura, and he sighs into his bedroll, expecting a peaceful doze. He is not, however, ready for the hand which unconsciously reaches over and pets him. Just his head though.
Fjord startles at first, until he realizes how fucking good it feels. Then he goes absolutely still lest Caduceus wake up and realize what he’s doing and stop. A little hum threatens to rise up in his chest as Deuces drags those long fingers of his over Fjord’s scalp, his blunt nails scratching at the perfect pressure. He cards through Fjord’s hair, strokes behind his ears, sweeps down the nape of his neck and back again...
It’s impossibly soothing. It puts Fjord right to sleep, or at least, right into a state of comfort that's near sleep and just as restful.
But then, Caduceus comes out of it, and startles with embarrassed surprise. He takes his hand back, and Fjord jerks out of the comfortable fugue, looking up into Caduceus’ flushing face.
His ears sink down. “I apologize, I don’t know what came over me,” Caduceus says, his deep voice rumbling through the space between them.
And Fjord stammers, "It's all right. I don't mind. It was nice." He should probably move away, but he’s really comfortable, and that sounds like effort.
"Nice," Caduceus echoes, and he smiles that big, genuine smile of his. "I thought you were Frumpkin."
Fjord laughs before he can help himself, and Caduceus quirks his lips and gives that quiet chuckle. "Except I don't purr," he says.
"Hmm." Caduceus' ears flick up, back to their usual. "Maybe you do, and you just don't know it."
"Could be we should, um, find out," Fjord says, because he's only smooth and charming when it doesn't mean anything, at least, not anything personal to him. When he's genuine, he stammers and he trips over his words, and he makes a fool of himself.
He supposes Caduceus doesn't mind fools. He's still with them after all.
Caduceus tucks a stray hair behind his ear. "If it doesn't bother you, I'll let my hand wander in the future, when you're nearby," he says, and it's an invitation if Fjord ever heard one.
Problem is, after the first couple of times he gets the soothing strokes in, everyone else figures it out, too, and there starts to be a scrap over who gets the gentle petting. He swears he saw Beau bite Jester over it once, though both of them deny it. Even Caleb gets in on it, though he likes to pretend it was an accident.
Fjord has to bide his time, wait until they're on watch or the others are occupied, and even then, he feels a little self-conscious knowing he wants the same comfort everyone else does. But it's weird, because if Jester sees him making his circular route toward Caduceus, suddenly she finds it really important to ask Beau for help getting firewood or whatever. Caleb then summons Frumpkin and starts cooing to him, and Nott thinks cleaning her crossbow is a thing of utmost importance.
No one says a word when Fjord sits next to Caduceus or when he makes a show of yawning and stretching out, head conveniently placed near a wandering hand. Caduceus knows what everyone wants by now, so it's with a hidden smile that he reaches over and buries his fingers in Fjord's hair, stroking and scratching his scalp, and generally being perfect about it.
Caduceus' fingers are soft, probably because of the gloves he's taken to wearing, and they smell like tea and dirt. They stroke around Fjord's ears, down the sides of his face, across his nape and throat, his collarbone.
Once, Fjord watches Caduceus in a haze, Caduceus who's calmly sipping tea with his other hand while he watches Beau and Nott's antics, Fjord's not even sure what they're doing. He vaguely hears noise and arguing while Jester giggles and Caleb offers his two copper's worth, but it's not something that needs his attention.
"You don't mind?" Fjord asks, though his tongue feels heavy in his mouth, and he struggles to surface from this place of quiet and comfort.
"Mind what?" Caduceus asks, after a moment, ears flicking as though he's registered a bit too late that Fjord had spoken to him.
"You know. This," Fjord says, making a vague gesture, because he doesn't know how else to say 'people cuddling you for attention without offering anything in return'.
"Oh. This. No, it's nice," Caduceus says, because everything is nice, except when it isn't. "It's the little things," he says, in that occasional burst of wise profoundness he has. "It's like caring without being overbearing. And it soothes me, too."
Fjord rolls over onto his back, staring up at the stars through the trees, and Caduceus' fingers shift with him, moving to stroke over his face, fluttering over his forehead, his cheek ridges, his jaw where he's no hope of growing decent facial hair. It's not in his blood.
"You don't feel cheated or taken advantage of?" Fjord asks, because they do. They rely on Caduceus a lot, to be their stability, their rock, their source of calm in a riotous sea.
"I don't feel forced," Caduceus says.
They aren't the same thing, but Fjord supposes that's just the way Caduceus is. Sometimes, he answers the unasked question, and it answers the asked one, too.
His fingers absently brush over Fjord's lips, and a little jolt runs through Fjord's body, straight to the pit of his belly where warmth resides whenever he's close to Caduceus. He has the most ridiculous urge to lick Caduceus' finger before it's gone again, and Fjord's face heats.
He coughs and clears his throat to disguise the weirdness, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck as Caduceus' hand drifts away, and Fjord tries not to regret the loss. "If you ever want one of us to return the favor, just say it. I'm sure all of us would be happy to do it."
"That could be nice," Caduceus hums, head tilted in the way it does when he's thinking long and hard about something. He's got to churn things around in his brain sometimes, Caduceus does. He's not dumb just... slower to conclusions.
“Yeah,” Caduceus finally says. “I think I’d like that,” and Fjord secretly vows that he’ll drop everything if Caduceus ever asks for a bit of comfort. He certainly deserves it.
He doesn’t expect Caduceus to take him up on the offer, however. Or at least so soon. Sometimes, he forgets Caduceus stumbles like the rest of them, and for as much as he talks about death and the inevitability of it and how it’s the natural order of things, Fjord’s pretty sure Caduceus actually isn’t in a hurry to die.
So a week later, after a particularly rough battle where Caduceus had nearly died again (he seems to attract death), Caduceus sits next to Fjord and says, “Is that offer still open?”
Fjord blinks, confused, until he puts it together, and heat steals into the tips of his ears. “Yeah. Sure. My fingers are, uh, yours to use. You’ll have to get a little lower though.”
“Oh. Right.” Caduceus sets aside his shield, his staff, some of his armor. He stretches out beside Fjord, resting his head on Fjord’s thigh without a bit of self-consciousness. “Will this do?”
Fjord’s face burns.
"As long as you're comfortable," he says because his heart has started this weird pitter-pattering rhythm and he’s not so stupid as to not know what it means, he’s just a little surprised by it, and well, he supposes it makes sense.
All things considered.
"Yeah, I think I am," Caduceus says, and his eyes flutter shut, his ears going lax as he folds his hands over his belly. "You're right. This is relaxing."
"I haven't even started," Fjord says, but he lowers his hand and cards his fingers through Caduceus' hair which is far softer than he would have thought.
He's tentative at first, but when Caduceus doesn't do anything more than sink a bit further into himself and tilt toward Fjord's hand, he supposes he's doing all right. He tries to copy what Caduceus had done for him -- petting his hair, gently scratching his scalp, softly stroking over and around his ears, and Caduceus lets out a low, rumbly sound which has no business being so charming.
Fjord sneaks a glance at everyone else, but Nott stands sentinel, crossbow in hand, staring away from their party. Beau and Jess have collapsed in an exhausted pile, and Caleb is already snoring, safe in their bubble. None of them pay attention to he and Caduceus. It's suspicious how much they aren't paying attention.
"Um, how's that?" Fjord asks, his voice strangely quiet, like he's trying not to disturb anyone or he's trying to hide what he's doing, which is ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with comforting Caduceus, but it still feels like an intimate moment he doesn't want anyone to disturb.
"It's nice," Caduceus hums, sounding sleepy. His eyes are shut, his face slack with relaxation. "Thank you."
"It's only fair, right?" Fjord says, and then on impulse, touches the side of Caduceus' face gently, calling the Wildpower's magic to his fingertips, the small warmth of it he's earned in his service so far.
Caduceus' ears flick, like they do when he's happy with something, and he smiles really soft. There's another purring rumble, and Fjord wonders what it would be like to kiss him, with that sweet smile on his lips.
"You're learning," he says, with sheer approval and delight, and somehow, it doesn't feel condescending when it comes from Caduceus.
"Thanks to you," Fjord says as he threads his fingers through Caduceus' hair, combing it out and gently working free the snarls.
Caduceus hums, tilting into his fingers like Frumpkin seeking more pets, not that Fjord would know as he keeps himself far from the feline. “I only offered a path. You’re the one who accepted it. Everything you have done is by your own strength.”
Fjord’s heart beats a little faster. Affection rises in him, crawls up his throat, sits heavy on his tongue. “I… uh, thanks.”
“For what?”
“Believing in me, I suppose. Don’t have much of a history of that.”
Caduceus looks at him, and Fjord’s relieved there isn’t any pity in his eyes. He doesn’t know if he can handle pity. “Well, you have it now,” he says. “We all believe in you.”
Fjord smiles before he can stop himself, and plays a bit with the braid in Caduceus’ hair. It’s a new style he’s picked up since they started staying in Rosohna, and Fjord likes it. They’ve all given themselves a bit of a new look, like they’re remaking themselves.
It’s about time.
“Yeah, well, we believe in you, too,” Fjord blurts out before he can stop himself, and his face burns as Caduceus chuckles, and Fjord stares hard at Nott’s back as she paces back and forth, alert to their surroundings despite the protection Caleb’s spell offers them.
“Thank you,” Caduceus says.
Eventually, Caduceus murmurs something about needing rest, and he curls into his bedroll next to Fjord and falls asleep as though catching his dreams is as easy as one breath and the next. Fjord watches him for a bit, but not in a creepy way. He just sort of… stares in Caduceus’ direction and thinks about Caduceus and envies his confidence.
Nott catches him looking and waggles her eyebrows at him, so Fjord rolls his eyes, wraps himself in his bedroll, and lays down, too. His back is to Caduceus, but if he wriggles just a bit, its purely an accident as he notches up against Caduceus, swearing he can feel the warmth of the firbolg through their respective bedrolls.
He falls asleep to the sound of Caduceus’ quiet snuffling, not quite a snore, but not silent breathing either.
It’s as simple as that.
Sometimes, there’s a fight over who gets to lay down next to Caduceus and indulge in the wonderful head rubs, something Caduceus recognizes by now and gives a soft chuckle over. He likes it, Fjord thinks. He likes that they rely on him for this, and they trust him to offer comfort.
And sometimes.
Sometimes Fjord sits down and Caduceus plops down next to him, and says, in a quiet voice, “do you mind if I…?” and Fjord pats him on the shoulder or the thigh or the arm or whatever’s in reach and says, “Whatever you want, I’m here for you” and he gets that soft sweet smile, and a good thirty minutes of playing with Caduceus’ hair and stroking his ears.
It’s enough, Fjord thinks. It’s nice, and it’s comfortable, and he has no interest in, er, rocking the boat, so to speak. Even if makes his insides go all squirmy, and his heart decide to beat faster and faster, and his face to get hot. Beau keeps giving him knowing looks, and Nott wriggles her eyebrows at him, and Jester smiles, soft and sweet and kind of sad, though there’s no reason for the latter.
“He doesn’t come to any of us, you know,” Jester says one day when they’re filling up everyone’s waterskins, having been volunteered for it on Beau’s insistence. “And I’ve offered a lot. I’m good at comforting, too! But he only comes to you.”
“Really?” Fjord thinks about it.
He supposes she’s right. He can’t recall a single time Caduceus has gone to Jester or Beau or Caleb or Nott, even though any of them wouldn’t begrudge him the need for comfort. Jester, especially, is quick to offer it.
He always comes straight to Fjord.
“Huh,” Fjord says, and maybe his face heats a little, and his heart skips a few beats. He scratches the side of his cheek. “I guess I just have a better calmness to me.”
Jester rolls her eyes and punches him on the shoulder -- only slightly less bruiseworthy than Beau, but honestly, not by much. “That’s not it, and you know it!” she says, shaking her finger at him. “Don’t you hurt him, Fjord.”
“What are you even talking about, Jess?” Fjord asks, playing dumb. It comes easy to him sometimes. Easier than it ought.
She narrows her eyes and bares her fangs, and she can be scary when she wants to be. She pretends to be cute and innocent, and she is both, but also, she’s pretty damn frightening and powerful, and Fjord envies her a lot.
“Don’t give me that, I’m not falling for it,” she says, and scoops up all the waterskins, her tail flicking like an agitated cat. “I’m going to tell Beau you’re being stupid and let her deal with you,” she says, in a huff, and flounces off.
Fjord sighs and scoops up the one she dropped in the mud -- his, of course, she’s not that clumsy -- and rinses off the exterior before tucking it back into his pack.
He’s not being stupid. He’s not naive. He knows what it means, when his heart flutters, and he loses control of his tongue, and his face warms around Caduceus. He knows what it means that he falls asleep next to the firbolg, and is eager to run his fingers through Caduceus’ hair, and maybe leans a little too close to soak up Caduceus’ warmth or inhale the dirt-tea-metal scent of him.
He knows what it means. He’s maybe a little afraid of it.
He goes back to where the rest of the Nein waits, and threats or not, Beau doesn’t say anything, but Fjord can feel the weight of her stare as she and Jester look at him. Caduceus is blissfully unaware -- he’s found a patch of moss growing on a tree, and he’d been talking to it last Fjord saw, which has gone from ridiculous to adorable.
Caleb, however, sidles up to Fjord. “Er,” he says, in that halting way he does, with a side eyed look. “I am afraid to ask, but what did you do?”
Fjord sighs. “It’s what I didn’t do, I believe.”
“Ah,” Caleb says, but his forehead crinkles again.
“Or maybe what I haven’t done yet, or what I’m going to do,” Fjord says, because he’s honestly not sure. There’s a great road spread out in front of him, and there are a couple paths, they all eventually lead to the same place, but how he gets there.
How he gets there is the challenge.
“Hm,” Caleb says, and gives him an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Good luck then.” He shuffles away, and Fjord supposes for Caleb, that’s pretty darn comforting.
Luck is something Fjord needs, though he doesn’t expect anything to change. He expects to keep on the same way they have been, neither of them saying anything, and no one saying anything outright, because they’ve enough complications without this… this thing that’s brewing like a storm on the horizon, or a pot of tea over a steadily growing flame.
Fjord can’t pinpoint exactly what changes his mind.
Is it losing Yasha, again and again?
Is it watching Caleb deal with a ghost of his past?
Is it seeing Nott reunite with her husband and child, only to have to leave them all over again?
Is it Jester, finally getting to see her mother once more?
Is it Beau who worries about her family in Kamordah as much as she tells herself she doesn’t want to care?
Is it none of them?
He doesn’t know.
There’s no terrible battle which sends Caduceus to him this time. They’re tired and worn, but blessedly free of impending threats for once. It’s a respite, between one terrible thing and the next. Caduceus seems as cheerful as Caduceus can be, so Fjord doesn’t expect he’ll be seeking comfort tonight, and Jester’s been eyeing him all day like she’s going to snag the petting spot before anyone else can.
So Fjord’s as surprised as anyone when Caduceus sits down next to him with a soft sigh and a gentle smile. He looks over at Star Razor, balanced across Fjord’s knees, and gently touches the hilt like greeting an old friend.
“I knew it would suit you,” Caduceus says before he pulls his hand back, and it doesn’t make a lick of sense, but Fjord swears he can feel the warmth of Caduceus’ touch. “Are you communing?”
Fjord gives him a lopsided grin. “Not really. I was just admiring it.” He passes his hand over the blade and it shatters into a light fall of snow, which evaporates before it touches anything. “I need the reminder sometimes. That it really happened, I mean.”
“Mm.” Caduceus hums, and he fidgets a little, but there’s no subterfuge in him, he’s not good at it. “If you’re busy I can--”
“What, no. I’m not busy. Swear it.” Fjord chuckles, and it’s a stupid, nervous sound, so he covers it up by patting his thigh. “My talented hands are all yours if you want them.” He tilts his head. “Everything all right?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine,” Caduceus says as he shifts around and decides how he wants to lay down, like a cat who has to turn in a circle several times before choosing somewhere to sleep. He eventually settles on his back, his head in the cradle of Fjord’s legs, folded lotus beneath him.
Fjord waits, because it seems like Caduceus is going to add something more. But he doesn’t. He just squirms until he’s comfortable, and looks up at Fjord with warmth in his eyes, and trust in the lazy sprawl of his lanky body.
“Well, I mean, everything isn’t fine,” Caduceus says after a moment, when Fjord’s fingers thread through his hair, careful of his talons like always. They’re good for working out knots, but he doesn’t want to scratch too hard. “We’re kind of in a mess, but at the moment, everything is fine.”
Fjord considers that.
Caduceus is right. They are in the midst of strain and tension and worry but at the moment, they are all in a fair mood. Jester has gone to scribbling in her journal, grinning and chuckling to herself over some secret joke. Caleb has his nose buried in a book, one of the ones they found for him a while back. Nott’s playing with her chemicals, and the occasional sour or acrid smell of whatever she’s mixing floats Fjord’s direction, but she’s got a look of mad glee on her face, so he’s not inclined to stop her.
Beau’s working out. For her, it’s not torture. It’s actually fun.
There’s still an empty place where Yasha would usually be, sharpening her sword, or flipping through her flower book, or meditating quietly.
But Caduceus is right.
At the moment, everything is fine.
“Then I guess you just like my hands in your hair,” Fjord says, before he can think twice about it, with a smile and a little laugh, and gods, it’s far too forward, but it’s too late to take it back.
Caduceus chuckles quietly. “I guess I do,” he says, his eyes fluttering open, and he looks up at Fjord and there’s a moment.
Just a moment.
He wants to kiss Caduceus. Right here, right now. Himself leaning over a bit to see Caduceus’ face, his fingers buried in Caduceus’ hair, his hand resting on Caduceus’ shoulder, his thumb brushing occasionally at Caduceus’ throat, warmth between them, sweet flowers on the wind, a calm before the storm in the Mighty Nein. He wants it with a sharp, sharp longing in the center of his chest.
Caduceus is clean-shaven and bright-eyed and completely at ease, here in Fjord’s lap, and Fjord wants to kiss him.
“Fjord,” Caduceus murmurs, and Fjord drags his eyes away from Caduceus’ lips like he hasn’t just been staring at them, “I would like it very much if you kissed me,” he says, like he’s read Fjord’s mind, and Fjord still swears sometimes Caduceus always knows exactly what he’s thinking.
In this instance, he doesn’t mind one bit.
“You’re so damn weird,” he says, and then he can’t help it. He leans over, and he kisses Caduceus, like he’s been wanting to for what feels like ages.
It’s awkward.
It’s so stupidly awkward, because they’re upside down and sideways, and Caduceus’ hair is tangled around Fjord’s fingers, and then Caduceus’ hand cups the back of his neck, big and warm, and their teeth clack, and their lips fumble.
It’s awkward, and it’s perfect, and for a moment, all Fjord can do is rest his forehead against Caduceus’ and breathe.
Well.
Well, that was the most terrifying thing he’s ever done.
“You all right?” Caduceus asks as he caresses Fjord’s nape with slow, deliberate strokes, and it’s just so Caduceus that Fjord can’t help softly laughing.
“I’m perfect,” he says. “Should’ve done that sooner.”
“Well,” Caduceus says, his eyes soft with humor and affection. “I’m patient.”
Fjord kisses him again, a little more skill this time, a better angle, his lips moving against Caduceus’ gently. The heat of Caduceus’ mouth mingles with his until a distant curse shatters his calm.
By Melora.
They’re not alone.
Fjord snaps up, eyes wide, but the rest of the Mighty Nein are paying so little attention to them, he’s immediately suspicious. Nott had been the one to curse, and she’s shaking one of her hands as she hisses. Caleb stumbles her way, cooing concern in a bit of role-reversal. Beau’s moved on to pull-ups using a lowhanging branch. Jester’s sitting nearby, counting each repetition aloud.
He breathes a sigh of relief.
Fjord’s not ashamed. That’s not it. He just knows the Mighty Nein. Knows how annoying they’ll be about it. They’ll tease him relentlessly, and Jester will probably threaten him again, and Fjord doesn’t want to deal with any of it right now.
He’d rather kiss Caduceus a little more and soak up this moment. His fingers in Caduceus’ hair, the soft stroke of his thumb over Caduceus’ throat, the warmth of Caduceus’ head in his lap. And Caduceus lazily dragging his fingers over Fjord’s nape, scratching the shorter hairs there, because damn, it feels good.
Fjord sags, despite the ache in his back, eyes drifting halfway to shut. Something’s clicked quietly into place, and he wonders a bit, what the fuss was all about. A rumble starts in his chest, a quiet humming of satisfaction.
Right now, everything is fine.
Caduceus hums a soft laugh and says, “Hey, look at that. You do purr.”
Fjord’s face flames, and he buries his forehead against Caduceus’ to hide his joy. It’s stupid, so stupid.
He can’t imagine it any other way.
