[CR] Up the River
Apr. 22nd, 2020 06:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Title: Up the River
Universe: Critical Role Campaign Two, Alternate Reality
Characters: Caduceus Clay, Fjord
Rated: K+
Enticements: Fairy Tale AU, The Hermit and the Kappa
Description: Caduceus thinks Calliope must have been teasing when she said to be wary of kappas. Fjord, after all, seems to be as pleasant as they come.
For FjorClay Week, Day Three, Prompt: Myths and/or Fairy Tales
It's a sticky, humid day when Caduceus throws the two corked clay jars over his shoulders and heads for the river. He picks his way through the garden of haphazardly ordered plots of vegetables and fruits and herbs and flowers singing their sweet song into the air. A few bees buzz noisily, but leave him be.
True, he could always ask the Wildmother to create water for him, but there's a simple pleasure in fetching it for himself. It's only a few minutes walk, and perhaps while he's there, he'll indulge in a quick dip as a break from the day's sticky heat.
As it is, Caduceus has stripped down to a loose pair of linen trousers, snipped off at the knee. His bare skin is slick with a sheen of sweat. He's piled his hair on top of his head, in deference to the heat, and the sun warms the back of his neck where it peeks through the tree canopy above.
"Is there any chance we might see a break in this heat soon?" Caduceus asks of the wind. It doesn't answer, but then, that's an answer in itself.
"I thought not," Caduceus sighs.
Summer is not his favorite season.
The river quietly burbles in its banks, low for the season. It's been a dry year, not as many rains as Caduceus is used to counting. His bare feet sink into the mud as he crouches on the bank and sets to filling his jars. Insects buzz around him. Leaves rustle. A couple frogs croak their displeasure of the heat.
And the water in front of him abruptly bubbles as a head emerges from beneath, dark green and slick and accompanied by a pair of vivid gold eyes.
Caduceus shouts and flings himself backward, not out of fear, but out of surprise. His bottle goes flying, fumbling out of his hands to land in the water and start bobbing downstream, caught on the current.
The creature burbles a curse and vanishes beneath the surface.
What in Melora's name was that?
Caduceus rights himself, indulging in a flicker of calm emotions to get his heartbeat back to normal. One water jug rests in the mud, but the other -- yeah, it's rapidly floating downstream. He's going to have to go after it.
He peers into the water, looking for any sign of the creature he'd seen. "Uh, hello there. Didn't mean to shout like that, you just startled me," he says.
Nothing.
There is, however, a further splash. Caduceus' ears twitch, and he follows the sound to where his water jug is merrily bobbing in the current. A webbed hand emerges from beneath the surface, snagging the jug's rope, before it vanishes underwater -- the hand, not the jug. Then it bobs in Caduceus' direction, the rope taut as though it's being towed.
Caduceus blinks. "Um, thank you?" he says as the jug comes closer and closer, into the shallows, and with it, the creature belonging to the hand.
It's humanoid, shorter in stature than Caduceus himself but broader and thicker, with webbed hands and feet, and a glossy, amphibian skin. It's green, but its face is humanoid, handsome if Caduceus had to apply a descriptor to it. Short-black hair caps its head, but the rest of it is smooth and gently scaled.
It holds out the jug.
Caduceus accepts it with a little bow, popping the cork into place as he does so. "Thanks. That would have taken me a while to retrieve. These waters have some, uh, strong undertows. Though I guess you'd know that if you... do you live here?"
"I do... live here," the creature says, and it's voice is deep and bassy, the words stilted as though this is the first time it has spoken. "I live here." It makes a broad gesture to the area around them.
Caduceus nods. "I live there." He turns and points over his shoulder, in the direction of his hut. "I've never seen you before though." He pauses and gives the creature another look -- something about it is familiar but he can't place why. "What are you, if I may ask?"
"I am Fjord." It touches its own chest. "You are... ?" It tilts its head to the side and looks up. "Tall cow man."
Caduceus chuckles. "Kind of. I'm a firbolg. We don't live around here usually. The name's Caduceus. What's yours?"
"Name is Fjord," it says, and its lips peel into a smile, revealing a mouth of dangerous looking teeth, two on the bottom far more prominent. "I am a kappa."
"Ohhh. See, I got that backward." Caduceus tries to remember. He vaguely recalls Calliope telling him to be wary of kappas, but he can't remember why. "Nice to meet you. Is there, uh, something I can do for you? Is that why you decided to introduce yourself?"
Fjord shakes its -- his? Caduceus is going to go with his -- head. "Curious," he says. "Never seen one like you before. You're not like the others, so I thought maybe you'd be a..." He gropes for a word before suggesting, "...friend?"
"Sure!" Caduceus breaks into a wide grin. "I mean, I don't see why not." He looks around, skimming the underbrush and the river. "Are you alone out here, Fjord?"
The kappa's shoulders hunch, and he takes a step back into the water until he’s knee-deep again. "I am the only one, yes."
"I didn't mean that to sound as scary as it did." Caduceus takes a step back so he doesn't look like a threat. "I'm alone out here, too. My family lives on the other side of the mountain." He gestures to the far east. "I'm here because I'm looking for something."
Fjord points to the water jug. "That?"
Cadcecus chuckles. "No, it's not a physical thing. It's more of... a purpose? A plan? My destiny?" He scratches at his chin, struggling to find the right words. "I'm not sure. I'm waiting for her to tell me."
"Her?"
"The Wildmother. Melora." He goes to point to the symbol on his chestplate, and then he remembers he's not wearing anything but a pair of linen shorts. "I serve her."
Fjord blinks, and it's a weird thing, because he blinks first one way and then another way, like Caduceus has never seen before. "I don't know Melora. Only the serpent. Many eyes." He shudders, and hunches again, like he's afraid. "Many, many eyes."
Caduceus frowns. A serpent with many eyes? He doesn't know anything about that, but perhaps he can commune with the Wildmother later and she'll illuminate him.
"This serpent... is it your god or your leader?" Caduceus asks.
A shiver runs over Fjord's body, flicking his scales. "He’s the Serpent," Fjord says, in a tone that applies proper noun usage and everything. "He’s... Master?" Fjord cocks his head like he's not sure that's the right word before he shrugs. "We do what the Serpent says, and we’re rewarded. We don't, and we’re punished." He pauses and shakes his head. "I don’t like bein’ punished."
"Few do," Caduceus murmurs.
He bends down, picks up his water jugs, and slings them back over his shoulder. "I was going to make some tea. It's why I came for water. Do you want to join me?"
"What is tea?" Fjord asks. He takes a step forward only to hesitate at the edge of the water.
"It's a drink." Caduceus peers at the kappa, who's now nibbling on his bottom lip and looking nervously up and down the riverbank. "I mean, can you leave the water? Are you tied to it or...?"
Fjord touches his hair as though checking something. "I can leave," he says, and takes a deep breath before stepping one foot out of the water, onto the muddy bank. "It's dangerous, but I can leave."
"Will you get in trouble with the Serpent?"
"No." Fjord pats his hair again before standing up straight, squaring his shoulders and everything. He’s not wearing any clothing, but if he has any delicate bits, they must be tucked away. "I’m not a coward. I’ll try the tea."
Caduceus blinks. "There's nothing cowardly about -- well, all right. Come with me. I can show you my house." He starts walking, the water jugs bouncing against his hip. "I warn you, my house is small, but it's cozy. Maybe too cozy, because it's pretty hot."
"It’s very hot," Fjord agrees, and Caduceus hears feet squelching through mud before Fjord's heavier tread echoes behind him. "The river is better."
"It probably is." Caduceus laughs. "I was going to wade in for a second. I completely forgot."
"Just wade? Not swim?" Fjord asks.
Caduceus looks over his shoulder and unconsciously slows his pace to match Fjord's, who walks more deliberately, cautious before he puts each foot down. "I'm not much of a swimmer."
"That's bad." Fjord's luminous eyes look at him with something like disappointment. Maybe pity? "Swimming is important. I'll teach you."
"I didn't say I couldn't do it, just that I-- well, never mind." It's another one of those distinctions so minor as to be non-important. "I appreciate that. I might just take you up on the offer."
Fjord looks up at him. "If you're going to live here, you must swim," he says. "The Serpent is Master here. He may not like you."
"So it's for my safety then?"
"Yes."
Hmm. Maybe Caduceus should research this Serpent sooner rather than later. Of course, the kappa could be lying to him, but he can't think of a reason why. There are better things to lie about.
"I didn't warn the other one," Fjord says, and he looks at the ground, his shoulders slumping. "She was cruel, so I didn't warn her, and the Serpent took her." His webbed fingers tangle together, though they seem a lot drier now, some of the scales starting to flake. "It takes all of us eventually."
"You seem to have come out all right," Caduceus says.
But the kappa laughs, a strange gurgling sound which seems as though it's meant to be heard from underwater.
"This is after," he says, slapping his palm against his chest, making a wet-sticky sound. "This is punishment. I wasn’t always like this."
"What were you like?" Caduceus asks as his hut comes into view, a small curl of smoke rising from the chimney, where he'd left embers to burn themselves out.
Fjord drops his hand, and it curls into a fist before loosening. "I wasn't this," he says, and shakes his head. "I wasn't this."
"You can't leave?" Caduceus asks.
"Can't go far from home." Fjord touches the crown of his head again, his fingers coming away moist. He rubs them together and frowns. "Can't go far from Serpent."
"I see," Caduceus says, though he really doesn't.
This Serpent sounds like a jailer. Maybe it's one of the betrayer gods? It's certainly someone the Wildmother would not like.
Caduceus pushes open his door and ducks into the cool dim of his small hut. He leaves the door open for Fjord and sets the water jugs on the open shelf. A flick of his hand coaxes the fire back into full bloom to heat the kettle hanging above him.
"You can sit anywhere you like," Caduceus says. He ponders his tea collection before selecting a few he guesses Fjord might like -- sweet and fragrant blooms, he thinks.
Fjord pokes around the hut, taking great interest in the things Caduceus has on the walls and hanging from the roof. He seems particularly taken by the broken sword Caduceus has on display. He’s had the old thing for many, many seasons, and carried it with him from home.
"It's a conversation piece really," Caduceus says as he prepares two mugs. "I keep thinking I might find someone who can repair it some day, but until then, I can't bear to part with it. Something tells me it's important."
One of Fjord's fingers lightly touches the hilt. "Important," he echoes, though it's barely louder than a murmur. "I had a sword once. Before the punishment. It was important, too." He makes an odd sound, like a gurgle, before he turns away from the sword.
The kettle whistles, and Caduceus sets about pouring the tea, adding a plate of biscuits to the tray because a good afternoon tea is always properly served with biscuits. "Do you like honey?" he asks as he sits on the floor and Fjord flops down next to him, a bit awkward, as though unused to the physics outside the water.
"Honey?" Fjord says. "I think I remember honey. I don't remember if I liked it." He gives the offered tea a sniff before holding it back out to Caduceus.
He chuckles and adds a few dollops to the steaming cup. "Be careful. It's hot."
His warning comes too late, as Fjord takes a long sip, only to immediately hiss and yank the cup away, his tongue lolling out in desperate pants to cool the singed skin.
"Sorry, I should've said something sooner." Caduceus winces and holds out a hand. "May I?"
Fjord tilts his head, but he leans in toward Caduceus with permission. Caduceus brushes his fingers over Fjord's forehead, whispering a prayer to the Wildmother for a little bit of comfort, and watches Fjord's expression shift from pained to relieved.
"Better?"
"Yes." Fjord smacks his lips a few times before he nods. "Hot." He touches his forehead where Caduceus' fingers had brushed him and asks, "What was that?"
"A blessing from the Wildmother. She's... kinder than your Serpent," Caduceus says. He blows on his own tea to cool it before he sips. "Would you like to know more about her?"
Fjord cups his mug, fingers rubbing the textures of the outside of it. "Could she help me?"
"Maybe. If you asked her to. If you really wanted it." Caduceus chooses his words carefully. He doesn't want to make promises in Melora's place, but he swears he feels her attention on him, however slight, and he's moving in the right direction. Her direction.
Fjord takes in a deep breath and nods, lifting those luminous eyes back to Caduceus. "I want to know."
"Sip your tea, friend," Caduceus says as he lets himself get comfortable, "And I will tell you a story."
"Friend," Fjord repeats the word as if tasting it before he beams, like ten years of tragedy have been briefly lifted from his shoulders. "Yes. We're friends."
***
Universe: Critical Role Campaign Two, Alternate Reality
Characters: Caduceus Clay, Fjord
Rated: K+
Enticements: Fairy Tale AU, The Hermit and the Kappa
Description: Caduceus thinks Calliope must have been teasing when she said to be wary of kappas. Fjord, after all, seems to be as pleasant as they come.
For FjorClay Week, Day Three, Prompt: Myths and/or Fairy Tales
It's a sticky, humid day when Caduceus throws the two corked clay jars over his shoulders and heads for the river. He picks his way through the garden of haphazardly ordered plots of vegetables and fruits and herbs and flowers singing their sweet song into the air. A few bees buzz noisily, but leave him be.
True, he could always ask the Wildmother to create water for him, but there's a simple pleasure in fetching it for himself. It's only a few minutes walk, and perhaps while he's there, he'll indulge in a quick dip as a break from the day's sticky heat.
As it is, Caduceus has stripped down to a loose pair of linen trousers, snipped off at the knee. His bare skin is slick with a sheen of sweat. He's piled his hair on top of his head, in deference to the heat, and the sun warms the back of his neck where it peeks through the tree canopy above.
"Is there any chance we might see a break in this heat soon?" Caduceus asks of the wind. It doesn't answer, but then, that's an answer in itself.
"I thought not," Caduceus sighs.
Summer is not his favorite season.
The river quietly burbles in its banks, low for the season. It's been a dry year, not as many rains as Caduceus is used to counting. His bare feet sink into the mud as he crouches on the bank and sets to filling his jars. Insects buzz around him. Leaves rustle. A couple frogs croak their displeasure of the heat.
And the water in front of him abruptly bubbles as a head emerges from beneath, dark green and slick and accompanied by a pair of vivid gold eyes.
Caduceus shouts and flings himself backward, not out of fear, but out of surprise. His bottle goes flying, fumbling out of his hands to land in the water and start bobbing downstream, caught on the current.
The creature burbles a curse and vanishes beneath the surface.
What in Melora's name was that?
Caduceus rights himself, indulging in a flicker of calm emotions to get his heartbeat back to normal. One water jug rests in the mud, but the other -- yeah, it's rapidly floating downstream. He's going to have to go after it.
He peers into the water, looking for any sign of the creature he'd seen. "Uh, hello there. Didn't mean to shout like that, you just startled me," he says.
Nothing.
There is, however, a further splash. Caduceus' ears twitch, and he follows the sound to where his water jug is merrily bobbing in the current. A webbed hand emerges from beneath the surface, snagging the jug's rope, before it vanishes underwater -- the hand, not the jug. Then it bobs in Caduceus' direction, the rope taut as though it's being towed.
Caduceus blinks. "Um, thank you?" he says as the jug comes closer and closer, into the shallows, and with it, the creature belonging to the hand.
It's humanoid, shorter in stature than Caduceus himself but broader and thicker, with webbed hands and feet, and a glossy, amphibian skin. It's green, but its face is humanoid, handsome if Caduceus had to apply a descriptor to it. Short-black hair caps its head, but the rest of it is smooth and gently scaled.
It holds out the jug.
Caduceus accepts it with a little bow, popping the cork into place as he does so. "Thanks. That would have taken me a while to retrieve. These waters have some, uh, strong undertows. Though I guess you'd know that if you... do you live here?"
"I do... live here," the creature says, and it's voice is deep and bassy, the words stilted as though this is the first time it has spoken. "I live here." It makes a broad gesture to the area around them.
Caduceus nods. "I live there." He turns and points over his shoulder, in the direction of his hut. "I've never seen you before though." He pauses and gives the creature another look -- something about it is familiar but he can't place why. "What are you, if I may ask?"
"I am Fjord." It touches its own chest. "You are... ?" It tilts its head to the side and looks up. "Tall cow man."
Caduceus chuckles. "Kind of. I'm a firbolg. We don't live around here usually. The name's Caduceus. What's yours?"
"Name is Fjord," it says, and its lips peel into a smile, revealing a mouth of dangerous looking teeth, two on the bottom far more prominent. "I am a kappa."
"Ohhh. See, I got that backward." Caduceus tries to remember. He vaguely recalls Calliope telling him to be wary of kappas, but he can't remember why. "Nice to meet you. Is there, uh, something I can do for you? Is that why you decided to introduce yourself?"
Fjord shakes its -- his? Caduceus is going to go with his -- head. "Curious," he says. "Never seen one like you before. You're not like the others, so I thought maybe you'd be a..." He gropes for a word before suggesting, "...friend?"
"Sure!" Caduceus breaks into a wide grin. "I mean, I don't see why not." He looks around, skimming the underbrush and the river. "Are you alone out here, Fjord?"
The kappa's shoulders hunch, and he takes a step back into the water until he’s knee-deep again. "I am the only one, yes."
"I didn't mean that to sound as scary as it did." Caduceus takes a step back so he doesn't look like a threat. "I'm alone out here, too. My family lives on the other side of the mountain." He gestures to the far east. "I'm here because I'm looking for something."
Fjord points to the water jug. "That?"
Cadcecus chuckles. "No, it's not a physical thing. It's more of... a purpose? A plan? My destiny?" He scratches at his chin, struggling to find the right words. "I'm not sure. I'm waiting for her to tell me."
"Her?"
"The Wildmother. Melora." He goes to point to the symbol on his chestplate, and then he remembers he's not wearing anything but a pair of linen shorts. "I serve her."
Fjord blinks, and it's a weird thing, because he blinks first one way and then another way, like Caduceus has never seen before. "I don't know Melora. Only the serpent. Many eyes." He shudders, and hunches again, like he's afraid. "Many, many eyes."
Caduceus frowns. A serpent with many eyes? He doesn't know anything about that, but perhaps he can commune with the Wildmother later and she'll illuminate him.
"This serpent... is it your god or your leader?" Caduceus asks.
A shiver runs over Fjord's body, flicking his scales. "He’s the Serpent," Fjord says, in a tone that applies proper noun usage and everything. "He’s... Master?" Fjord cocks his head like he's not sure that's the right word before he shrugs. "We do what the Serpent says, and we’re rewarded. We don't, and we’re punished." He pauses and shakes his head. "I don’t like bein’ punished."
"Few do," Caduceus murmurs.
He bends down, picks up his water jugs, and slings them back over his shoulder. "I was going to make some tea. It's why I came for water. Do you want to join me?"
"What is tea?" Fjord asks. He takes a step forward only to hesitate at the edge of the water.
"It's a drink." Caduceus peers at the kappa, who's now nibbling on his bottom lip and looking nervously up and down the riverbank. "I mean, can you leave the water? Are you tied to it or...?"
Fjord touches his hair as though checking something. "I can leave," he says, and takes a deep breath before stepping one foot out of the water, onto the muddy bank. "It's dangerous, but I can leave."
"Will you get in trouble with the Serpent?"
"No." Fjord pats his hair again before standing up straight, squaring his shoulders and everything. He’s not wearing any clothing, but if he has any delicate bits, they must be tucked away. "I’m not a coward. I’ll try the tea."
Caduceus blinks. "There's nothing cowardly about -- well, all right. Come with me. I can show you my house." He starts walking, the water jugs bouncing against his hip. "I warn you, my house is small, but it's cozy. Maybe too cozy, because it's pretty hot."
"It’s very hot," Fjord agrees, and Caduceus hears feet squelching through mud before Fjord's heavier tread echoes behind him. "The river is better."
"It probably is." Caduceus laughs. "I was going to wade in for a second. I completely forgot."
"Just wade? Not swim?" Fjord asks.
Caduceus looks over his shoulder and unconsciously slows his pace to match Fjord's, who walks more deliberately, cautious before he puts each foot down. "I'm not much of a swimmer."
"That's bad." Fjord's luminous eyes look at him with something like disappointment. Maybe pity? "Swimming is important. I'll teach you."
"I didn't say I couldn't do it, just that I-- well, never mind." It's another one of those distinctions so minor as to be non-important. "I appreciate that. I might just take you up on the offer."
Fjord looks up at him. "If you're going to live here, you must swim," he says. "The Serpent is Master here. He may not like you."
"So it's for my safety then?"
"Yes."
Hmm. Maybe Caduceus should research this Serpent sooner rather than later. Of course, the kappa could be lying to him, but he can't think of a reason why. There are better things to lie about.
"I didn't warn the other one," Fjord says, and he looks at the ground, his shoulders slumping. "She was cruel, so I didn't warn her, and the Serpent took her." His webbed fingers tangle together, though they seem a lot drier now, some of the scales starting to flake. "It takes all of us eventually."
"You seem to have come out all right," Caduceus says.
But the kappa laughs, a strange gurgling sound which seems as though it's meant to be heard from underwater.
"This is after," he says, slapping his palm against his chest, making a wet-sticky sound. "This is punishment. I wasn’t always like this."
"What were you like?" Caduceus asks as his hut comes into view, a small curl of smoke rising from the chimney, where he'd left embers to burn themselves out.
Fjord drops his hand, and it curls into a fist before loosening. "I wasn't this," he says, and shakes his head. "I wasn't this."
"You can't leave?" Caduceus asks.
"Can't go far from home." Fjord touches the crown of his head again, his fingers coming away moist. He rubs them together and frowns. "Can't go far from Serpent."
"I see," Caduceus says, though he really doesn't.
This Serpent sounds like a jailer. Maybe it's one of the betrayer gods? It's certainly someone the Wildmother would not like.
Caduceus pushes open his door and ducks into the cool dim of his small hut. He leaves the door open for Fjord and sets the water jugs on the open shelf. A flick of his hand coaxes the fire back into full bloom to heat the kettle hanging above him.
"You can sit anywhere you like," Caduceus says. He ponders his tea collection before selecting a few he guesses Fjord might like -- sweet and fragrant blooms, he thinks.
Fjord pokes around the hut, taking great interest in the things Caduceus has on the walls and hanging from the roof. He seems particularly taken by the broken sword Caduceus has on display. He’s had the old thing for many, many seasons, and carried it with him from home.
"It's a conversation piece really," Caduceus says as he prepares two mugs. "I keep thinking I might find someone who can repair it some day, but until then, I can't bear to part with it. Something tells me it's important."
One of Fjord's fingers lightly touches the hilt. "Important," he echoes, though it's barely louder than a murmur. "I had a sword once. Before the punishment. It was important, too." He makes an odd sound, like a gurgle, before he turns away from the sword.
The kettle whistles, and Caduceus sets about pouring the tea, adding a plate of biscuits to the tray because a good afternoon tea is always properly served with biscuits. "Do you like honey?" he asks as he sits on the floor and Fjord flops down next to him, a bit awkward, as though unused to the physics outside the water.
"Honey?" Fjord says. "I think I remember honey. I don't remember if I liked it." He gives the offered tea a sniff before holding it back out to Caduceus.
He chuckles and adds a few dollops to the steaming cup. "Be careful. It's hot."
His warning comes too late, as Fjord takes a long sip, only to immediately hiss and yank the cup away, his tongue lolling out in desperate pants to cool the singed skin.
"Sorry, I should've said something sooner." Caduceus winces and holds out a hand. "May I?"
Fjord tilts his head, but he leans in toward Caduceus with permission. Caduceus brushes his fingers over Fjord's forehead, whispering a prayer to the Wildmother for a little bit of comfort, and watches Fjord's expression shift from pained to relieved.
"Better?"
"Yes." Fjord smacks his lips a few times before he nods. "Hot." He touches his forehead where Caduceus' fingers had brushed him and asks, "What was that?"
"A blessing from the Wildmother. She's... kinder than your Serpent," Caduceus says. He blows on his own tea to cool it before he sips. "Would you like to know more about her?"
Fjord cups his mug, fingers rubbing the textures of the outside of it. "Could she help me?"
"Maybe. If you asked her to. If you really wanted it." Caduceus chooses his words carefully. He doesn't want to make promises in Melora's place, but he swears he feels her attention on him, however slight, and he's moving in the right direction. Her direction.
Fjord takes in a deep breath and nods, lifting those luminous eyes back to Caduceus. "I want to know."
"Sip your tea, friend," Caduceus says as he lets himself get comfortable, "And I will tell you a story."
"Friend," Fjord repeats the word as if tasting it before he beams, like ten years of tragedy have been briefly lifted from his shoulders. "Yes. We're friends."
