[CR] Care a Fig
Feb. 27th, 2020 06:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Title: Care a Fig
Universe: Critical Role, Campaign Two
Characters: Nott the Brave, Caleb Widogast
Rated: K+
Description: Caleb doesn’t think he deserves Nott’s loyalty, but he cherishes it all the same.
It wasn’t until he saw Nott with Luc — Veth he reminded himself — that Caleb understood where he fit into Nott’s life.
He doubted it was intentional on her part. She didn’t mean to adopt him as a pseudo-replacement. But she loved her son and had nowhere to put that love until Caleb showed up with his dirty clothes and his physical weaknesses.
Her support of him was two fold. It was not disingenuous. She did want him to succeed as much as she would want Luc to succeed. That he could maybe possibly be the one to “fix” her was only part of a larger, complicated equation.
Caleb understood all of this, but he still did not want to lose her.
It was selfish of him, to want this of her. He would never ask, but the desire welled up inside him, threatening to choke him.
He hated himself for what he had done to his parents, and yet, he was selfish enough to miss them, their warmth, their love. He leaned into the care Nott directed at him like a flower toward the sun, as hungry for it as much as he knew he did not deserve it.
He had forgotten the love of family until he’d allowed himself to be part of the Mighty Nein. Every time he tried to walk away, he lost his courage, and he came crawling back, desperate to keep their affection and support.
It would be better, safer, wiser -- for them -- if he left.
He couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t leave the Mighty Nein, and he couldn’t leave Nott. Yet, he had neglected to calculate the fact she might want to leave them.
She had her family. They were safe. Yeza loved and accepted her. They’d make it work. Veth could stay with her family, and Caleb would still try to help her, try to fix her. He’d make do.
It would hurt.
He didn’t want her to go. He knew better than to ask.
She chose to remain as Nott the Brave. He could understand, however convoluted, the path of her reasoning as to why she’d left her family behind. To keep them safe. To protect them. So she could come home to them someday.
She was much stronger than Caleb could ever be. He admired her courage. He told her as much, trying to hide his relief behind the gruff compliment.
“Well, they’re safe,” she said with a shrug, spinning her flask between her deft hands. “As safe as we can make them anyway, but you idiots aren’t. If I’m not here, you’ll just get yourselves killed.”
Caleb managed a laugh, a huff of one, small though it was. “You think we can’t survive without you?”
“I know you can’t,” Nott declared, and took a hearty swig from her flask, throat bobbing as she chugged and wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “Someone’s gotta be the adult here.”
“Is that not Mr. Clay?” Caleb asked, more to tease than in seriousness.
Nott rolled her eyes and pointed at him with a sharp, goblin finger. “He only thinks he’s an adult, but he’s just a tall baby.” Her finger wavered, and in that moment, Caleb realized she was well on her way to tipsy.
He couldn’t blame her. Leaving Yeza and Luc behind must have been a hard choice. If Caleb were the drinking sort, he might swallow away his worries as well.
“You’re all babies of various sizes,” Nott added.
Caleb tilted the flask away from her, and replaced it with a waterskin. She squinted at him, but seemed to accept the switch with grace. This time. “You do realize I am older than you,” Caleb said. “Fjord and Mr. Clay also, though I’m not sure Caduceus is sure how old he is.”
“Age is nothing but a number,” Nott declared, her eyes shining in the dim glow of the lanterns. It was quiet in the Xhorhouse, something Caleb appreciated at the moment. He didn’t know where the others were. “You all need looking after.”
“That is probably true,” Caleb admitted. They were a combined mess, the Mighty Nein, and perhaps that was the reason Caleb stayed most of all. It was cowardice, and it was selfishness, but also, it felt right. It felt comfortable. He belonged here, with other people who were just as much of a mess as him.
Far less guilty and far more deserving of good things, granted, but they were none of them in a good place, and Caleb could appreciate that similarity.
“I am glad you are still with us, Nott,” Caleb said, and quietly, so that no one but her could hear unless someone was purposefully eavesdropping. “And I promise, I will get you to your family.”
“I’m still with my family. In a way,” Nott said, and she grinned, slapping him in the chest with his waterskin. “You’re still my boy.”
She probably wouldn’t have said it so easily if she weren’t on the way to being detrimentally drunk.
Heat spread across Caleb’s cheeks and brightened the tips of his ears. “I think you should get to bed,” Caleb said, and he managed it without an embarrassing stutter, though now he thought about taking a swig from her flask.
Nott’s ears flicked, and she gave him a most put-upon look which really gave lie to her declaration of being the only adult. “Are you going to give me my flask back?”
Caleb laughed and returned it. This was a problem only Nott could solve, and besides, who was Caleb to judge anyone for their vices or their coping mechanisms? He had his own faults to handle, and truth be told, he still wasn’t handling them very well.
He handed it over, half-expecting Nott to immediately consume some, but instead she tucked it away into her cloak and stood up, stretching.
“I’m going to sleep,” she said, and shook a finger at him. “Not because you told me to, but because I want to, and you are going to bed, too, because you have dark circles under your eyes.”
Caleb arched an eyebrow. “I always have dark circles.”
“That’s beside the point!” Nott’s pointing finger wavered a bit, but she drew herself up as tall as she could manage. “We need you in good shape, Caleb. You need you in good shape. That means rest and food and…” She trailed off, eyes squinting as though she’d forgotten her line of thought. “Anyway, go to bed. Shoo. Go on now.”
Caleb let her shoo him.
It felt good, a blossom of warmth in his chest where he’d tried to only nurture a block of ice. He let himself remember, for a moment, his mother making him scoot off to bed, and his father later tucking him in, and his mother kissing his forehead goodnight.
And then he closed his eyes and reminded himself he did not deserve that precious memory. He’d lost that privilege when he’d set his home aflame and listened to the sounds of his parents screaming and had done nothing but…
break
“Good night, Nott,” Caleb said. “Sleep well.”
She grabbed him by the face and planted a kiss on his forehead, for a certain definition of the word given her goblin visage. “Good night, Caleb,” she said, and she wobbled out of the room, up the stairs, to what must be a lonely bed, now that Yeza was in Nicodranas.
Caleb watched her go until she was out of sight, then he gathered himself up for bed as well. Nott was still here, still with them, and he would cherish her for as long as they had her.
He didn’t deserve a surrogate family, but he’d gotten one all the same.
****
Universe: Critical Role, Campaign Two
Characters: Nott the Brave, Caleb Widogast
Rated: K+
Description: Caleb doesn’t think he deserves Nott’s loyalty, but he cherishes it all the same.
It wasn’t until he saw Nott with Luc — Veth he reminded himself — that Caleb understood where he fit into Nott’s life.
He doubted it was intentional on her part. She didn’t mean to adopt him as a pseudo-replacement. But she loved her son and had nowhere to put that love until Caleb showed up with his dirty clothes and his physical weaknesses.
Her support of him was two fold. It was not disingenuous. She did want him to succeed as much as she would want Luc to succeed. That he could maybe possibly be the one to “fix” her was only part of a larger, complicated equation.
Caleb understood all of this, but he still did not want to lose her.
It was selfish of him, to want this of her. He would never ask, but the desire welled up inside him, threatening to choke him.
He hated himself for what he had done to his parents, and yet, he was selfish enough to miss them, their warmth, their love. He leaned into the care Nott directed at him like a flower toward the sun, as hungry for it as much as he knew he did not deserve it.
He had forgotten the love of family until he’d allowed himself to be part of the Mighty Nein. Every time he tried to walk away, he lost his courage, and he came crawling back, desperate to keep their affection and support.
It would be better, safer, wiser -- for them -- if he left.
He couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t leave the Mighty Nein, and he couldn’t leave Nott. Yet, he had neglected to calculate the fact she might want to leave them.
She had her family. They were safe. Yeza loved and accepted her. They’d make it work. Veth could stay with her family, and Caleb would still try to help her, try to fix her. He’d make do.
It would hurt.
He didn’t want her to go. He knew better than to ask.
She chose to remain as Nott the Brave. He could understand, however convoluted, the path of her reasoning as to why she’d left her family behind. To keep them safe. To protect them. So she could come home to them someday.
She was much stronger than Caleb could ever be. He admired her courage. He told her as much, trying to hide his relief behind the gruff compliment.
“Well, they’re safe,” she said with a shrug, spinning her flask between her deft hands. “As safe as we can make them anyway, but you idiots aren’t. If I’m not here, you’ll just get yourselves killed.”
Caleb managed a laugh, a huff of one, small though it was. “You think we can’t survive without you?”
“I know you can’t,” Nott declared, and took a hearty swig from her flask, throat bobbing as she chugged and wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “Someone’s gotta be the adult here.”
“Is that not Mr. Clay?” Caleb asked, more to tease than in seriousness.
Nott rolled her eyes and pointed at him with a sharp, goblin finger. “He only thinks he’s an adult, but he’s just a tall baby.” Her finger wavered, and in that moment, Caleb realized she was well on her way to tipsy.
He couldn’t blame her. Leaving Yeza and Luc behind must have been a hard choice. If Caleb were the drinking sort, he might swallow away his worries as well.
“You’re all babies of various sizes,” Nott added.
Caleb tilted the flask away from her, and replaced it with a waterskin. She squinted at him, but seemed to accept the switch with grace. This time. “You do realize I am older than you,” Caleb said. “Fjord and Mr. Clay also, though I’m not sure Caduceus is sure how old he is.”
“Age is nothing but a number,” Nott declared, her eyes shining in the dim glow of the lanterns. It was quiet in the Xhorhouse, something Caleb appreciated at the moment. He didn’t know where the others were. “You all need looking after.”
“That is probably true,” Caleb admitted. They were a combined mess, the Mighty Nein, and perhaps that was the reason Caleb stayed most of all. It was cowardice, and it was selfishness, but also, it felt right. It felt comfortable. He belonged here, with other people who were just as much of a mess as him.
Far less guilty and far more deserving of good things, granted, but they were none of them in a good place, and Caleb could appreciate that similarity.
“I am glad you are still with us, Nott,” Caleb said, and quietly, so that no one but her could hear unless someone was purposefully eavesdropping. “And I promise, I will get you to your family.”
“I’m still with my family. In a way,” Nott said, and she grinned, slapping him in the chest with his waterskin. “You’re still my boy.”
She probably wouldn’t have said it so easily if she weren’t on the way to being detrimentally drunk.
Heat spread across Caleb’s cheeks and brightened the tips of his ears. “I think you should get to bed,” Caleb said, and he managed it without an embarrassing stutter, though now he thought about taking a swig from her flask.
Nott’s ears flicked, and she gave him a most put-upon look which really gave lie to her declaration of being the only adult. “Are you going to give me my flask back?”
Caleb laughed and returned it. This was a problem only Nott could solve, and besides, who was Caleb to judge anyone for their vices or their coping mechanisms? He had his own faults to handle, and truth be told, he still wasn’t handling them very well.
He handed it over, half-expecting Nott to immediately consume some, but instead she tucked it away into her cloak and stood up, stretching.
“I’m going to sleep,” she said, and shook a finger at him. “Not because you told me to, but because I want to, and you are going to bed, too, because you have dark circles under your eyes.”
Caleb arched an eyebrow. “I always have dark circles.”
“That’s beside the point!” Nott’s pointing finger wavered a bit, but she drew herself up as tall as she could manage. “We need you in good shape, Caleb. You need you in good shape. That means rest and food and…” She trailed off, eyes squinting as though she’d forgotten her line of thought. “Anyway, go to bed. Shoo. Go on now.”
Caleb let her shoo him.
It felt good, a blossom of warmth in his chest where he’d tried to only nurture a block of ice. He let himself remember, for a moment, his mother making him scoot off to bed, and his father later tucking him in, and his mother kissing his forehead goodnight.
And then he closed his eyes and reminded himself he did not deserve that precious memory. He’d lost that privilege when he’d set his home aflame and listened to the sounds of his parents screaming and had done nothing but…
break
“Good night, Nott,” Caleb said. “Sleep well.”
She grabbed him by the face and planted a kiss on his forehead, for a certain definition of the word given her goblin visage. “Good night, Caleb,” she said, and she wobbled out of the room, up the stairs, to what must be a lonely bed, now that Yeza was in Nicodranas.
Caleb watched her go until she was out of sight, then he gathered himself up for bed as well. Nott was still here, still with them, and he would cherish her for as long as they had her.
He didn’t deserve a surrogate family, but he’d gotten one all the same.
