1. Marion
Marion’s heart leaps into her throat, and Bluud leaps to his feet as the door to the Chateau is thrown open and a group of people stumble in.
“Mama?” Jester calls, “what are you still doing up?”
Marion’s heart soars.
“I could ask the same of you,” Marion says, and rises to her feet.
It is the quiet hours before dawn. The patrons have gone home, Marion’s performance is over, and she and Bluud were playing a round of cards while Marion had a nightcap to end the night. Carlos was finishing wiping down his bar. It is not the time she would have expected to see Jester, or anyone, walking into the chateau.
The candles are low-lit at this point, just enough to see the cards at their table.
Jester rushes to greet her, and it’s only then that Marion notices the limp to her step. The rest of Jester’s new friends follow her in. They are quieter than they normally are. Beauregard has an arm thrown over Fjord’s shoulders, and he’s using that to practically carry her in. His other hand grips the waistband of Beauregard’s pants to help keep her upright.
Jester throws herself into the hug, and Marion tucks her face into her daughter’s hair. She can smell sweat, fire, and the unmistakable sharp tang of magic.
“Sorry we didn’t call ahead,” Jester says, “I had to use my spells to heal Caleb so he could bring us here.”
Marion glances up. Caleb has always been quiet, respectful, and stayed on the edges. She thinks he might be uncomfortable when anyone looks at him. Marion also can tell from the way he carries himself that he’s military trained, though he doesn’t want anyone to think that. And that he’s hurting, bad. Caleb is currently hunched forwards, as if he’s in too much pain to stand upright, though he’s masking it by keeping his hand wrapped tightly around the small fingers of Nott, who stays so close to his side that she almost disappears under his coat.
“It was a rough night,” Caduceus says in apology. He brings up the rear with the quiet woman, Yasha. She’s also covered in marks from a fight.
“Oh, my goodness,” Marion says. She’s not fond of violence, and the blood and the thought of the pain they must be in makes her feel ill. Her daughter was in danger tonight, and she had no idea.
“You should see the other guy,” Beauregard groans, and then coughs harshly. She does not sound well. One of her eyes is swollen shut. Fjord shushes her, and steadies his grasp on her when she sways on her feet.
“Are there any rooms that we can use?” Jester asks.
“Is there a fight coming here?” Bluud asks. He walks around the group to close the door behind them, and locks it.
“Nein,” Caleb says, his Empire accent heavy and foreign to Marion’s ears, “we left them far behind us.”
“Do you need healers?” Marion worries.
“A good sleep and we’ll be right as rain,” Caduceus assures her, “your daughter and I already handled the worst of it.”
“I know it’s late,” Jester says, and she smiles but now Marion can see how tired she is, can see the sweat and grime on her baby’s soft face, “it’s okay if we have to share because the rooms are full.”
It’s on the tip of her tongue to tease Jester that her and her friends never use all of the rooms offered to them anyways, that it’s well known that Jester and her, well— Jester has only introduced them as friends, so Marion will continue calling them that, even if she knows the truth of what they are— but it’s well known amongst the staff here that Jester and her friends sleep two-or-three to a room, and never alone.
Jester also has not shared this truth, explicitly, with Marion. Most likely because the others would be nervous about what Marion might think of them. They’ll come around, in time, Marion is sure.
“I only have one,” Marion lies easily, “you will have to share tonight, and we can make more space tomorrow when the other guests clear out.”
She watches their faces carefully. Jester’s room is also free, which can be brought up if there's an issue. Instead, Marion sees relief. Yasha has come to stand on Caleb’s other side, opposite Nott, and touches his elbow to let him know she’s there.
“We can bring the bedding from your room,” Marion offers, “if that will help make enough space for everyone?”
“I’m happy on the floor,” Caduceus offers. Fjord huffs a laugh, and then has to scramble when Beauregard’s legs give out. He grunts as he maneuvers her over his shoulder, and struggles to stand under her full weight.
“We’ll sleep anywhere,” Fjord says, “just lead the way, ma’am.”
“I can take her,” Yasha offers, just as Bluud also steps forwards to help. While Fjord doesn’t appear to have any significant injuries, he’s shaking already under the strain of Beauregard's weight. His hair is a mess, and his bangs fall into his face.
“No,” Fjord says sharply, determined, and holds tighter to Beau, “I’ve got her. Let’s go to bed.”
They make quite a procession, all of them, on their way upstairs.
Carlos had almost been on his way home, but he takes the time to run ahead and get the room unlocked and to light the candles inside. Jester and Yasha collect things from Jester’s room to meet them. Marion stands in the doorway to watch the Mighty Nein settle in.
Fjord sets Beauregard down on the bed, and Marion catches an intimate moment as Fjord refuses to let Beauregard sit up, and proceeds to tug her boots off himself. Caduceus and Nott work together to remove Caleb’s coat, and now Marion can see how he clenches his jaw against the pain the movement causes, and the dark spots in the front of his shirt that must have come from arrows or cross bolts. Their hands are gentle as they seat him on the trunk at the end of the bed, and Caduceus opens his shirt while Nott jumps up beside Caleb to turn his head with her hands so he has to look at her as Caduceus inspects the wounds.
“Do you need supplies?” she asks worriedly, “I have some basic medicines…”
“Maybe a little hot water,” Caduceus says, “I think this all looks worse than it is. Thank you.”
Yasha and Jester return with little fanfare. They lay out blankets and pillows on the floor. It’s not lavish, or extraordinary, but it will mean they all get to be together. There’s a tightness in their movements, a fear of what could have been, that’s dimming their spirits. Marion can’t bear to think on such horrible things.
“Keep your shirt on,” Fjord says in a raised whisper, slapping away Beauregard’s hands, “now get some sleep so I can stop worrying about you.”
Marion can recognize when people need their privacy. They don’t need her, Bluud or Carlos gawking at them as they tend to one another.
“I’ll bring the hot water once it’s boiled,” Marion says, “is there anything else I can do?”
Jester hops up to her feet.
“This is perfect, Mama. Thank you,” she says.
Marion doesn’t think she will ever have enough hugs from her daughter.
“Will you be here long?” she asks.
“I don’t think we can stay, but I can have breakfast with you,” Jester offers. She pulls back to smile up at Marion.
Marion tucks a stray piece of hair back behind Jester’s horn. Her hair looks like it was recently cut with a sword edge. A sign of life on the road.
“Get some rest,” Marion says, “take care of your friends, and meet me for lunch.”
“Okay,” Jester agrees.
Behind them Caduceus says, “You’re going to be awfully uncomfortable sleeping in a chair, Fjord. Beau will be fine.”
“Yes, but I just want to be sure.”
Marion sees the mischievous delight come back into Jester’s eyes, and she turns around with a laugh, “Fjord! If you want to keep an eye on Beau, you can share the bed with her and me!”
Fjord’s yellow eyes go wide, and he freezes in terror. He glances between Jester and Marion, and rather than acknowledge it, Marion sees that this is her cue to leave.
“Goodnight, Mighty Nein,” she says, and closes the door behind her.
2. Bryce
Watchmaster Bryce lets the wave of noise wash over them as they enter the tavern. It's warm inside compared to the mild spring air, filled with people stopping in for an ale, locals feeling refreshed with the season changing, and the Mighty Nein themselves.
Always a welcome presence in Alfield, it's nice to get the chance to catch up with adventurers like the Mighty Nein. Bryce considers themself fairly well-travelled, especially for a little place like Alfield, but the Mighty Nein have done and seen things that Bryce has only dreamed of. It seems strange that they hold Bryce in such high esteem that they admitted they were dropping in this time specifically to check up on them.
Jester and Caleb are dancing around several other couples, and they're the most notable for how Jester's delighted giggles carry above the din of voices. Caleb is flushed— from drink or from dancing— and he's smiling at his companion like no one else in the world exists.
Bryce finds themself surprised a moment, but then comes to conclude the two of them together makes sense. They're happy the two of them can find that kind of happiness with someone else who shares their same passion for adventure.
Beauregard spots Bryce and calls them over. There's an extra tankard of ale, which Yasha hands over as Bryce sits down with them.
"Do you think Caleb will pass out or puke first?" Fjord asks Nott. They're both watching the dancers closely.
"They seem to be having a good time," Bryce offers.
"He'd better not throw up!" Nott says, "I am not sharing a room with someone who stinks."
Beauregard throws a disbelieving look over her shoulder at Nott, "Dude. Caleb stinks like… all the time."
"It’s a disguise!" Nott snaps, standing up in her chair in outrage.
Caduceus sits on Yasha's other side. He is drinking a glass of milk.
"Hello again," he says around the bulk of Yasha's bicep.
"Hello," Bryce says, and offers a wave.
Nott and Fjord have gotten into a heated argument over Caleb's usual levels of odour. Bryce doesn't think it's polite to comment on it in any regard.
"Just get a room already," Beau snaps.
Nott and Fjord are stunned into silence.
Well, almost.
"I beg your pardon?" Nott demands.
"An argument can make for excellent foreplay," Yasha adds. Beau laughs loudly, throwing her head back.
"What is so funny?" Caleb asks as he and Jester return to the table. His face is flushed, red hair sticking to his neck with sweat. He drops into his seat with a heaviness that speaks to maybe one or two drinks in excess.
He looks good, Bryce thinks. Less like the starved, hollow man that had come through Alfield during the gnoll attacks so long ago.
Nott moves into Caleb's space and starts combing his hair with her small claws so she can tie it back from his face. Caleb's eyes slide shut as the goblin works.
"Nott and Fjord are flirting," Caduceus says.
Jester gasps, and her grin gets so wide that she shows all of her sharp teeth.
"Fjord! I didn't know you liked Nott!" she says.
"I don't!" Fjord protests.
Caleb frowns, and opens his eyes, "And why not?" He asks, "she is a wonderful woman!"
Nott's ears come up at the praise, and she smiles to herself.
"Pain in my ass," Fjord says, looking at Nott. Nott sticks her tongue out.
"Nott the Brave," Caleb says, possibly a little too loudly, and he stands up abruptly and almost knocks Nott off the chair she's standing on, "a wonderful lady deserves a dance. Will you do me the honor?"
Nott's ears flatten against her head, "Oh, oh I'm not the dancing type—"
"You can't say no," Jester says, "you have to dance!"
Nott looks like she may protest more, but Caleb has swept her off her feet and is heading back to the dance floor.
"Looks like someone is having a good night," Fjord comments.
"Are you jealous that Nott didn't want to dance with you?" Jester asks, and then giggles at her own joke. She sits down in Fjord's lap as she continues talking, "did you see how smiley Caleb is? I like him when he's happy!"
Bryce watches the interaction with curiosity. They'd been sure that Caleb and Jester were involved but… now they are not acting like a couple. In fact, now Bryce is more certain that Jester and Fjord are a couple, and possibly Nott and Caleb. Maybe Yasha and Beauregard?
Bryce wonders when knowing people's personal lives became so important to them. A vested interest in romantic pursuits is tantamount to a good friendship, maybe?
"If it's too loud we can go to bed," Caduceus says to Yasha. Bryce only overhears because they're sitting beside Yasha.
"I like the noise," Yasha confides, "and I like seeing everyone happy."
Jester has failed in getting Fjord to dance with her. Instead she circles the table and coerces Beau to follow her onto the dance floor.
"You don't like to dance?" Bryce asks, to make conversation.
"Never got a lot of practice at it," Fjord confesses, and takes a sip of his beer, "I'm a much better wallflower."
That surprises Bryce. Fjord is a very handsome man, even for being half-orc.
"People are blind to not ask you to dance," Bryce says, and then wonders if they made a mistake. Is Fjord spoken for? Bryce had intended it as a compliment, and only a small bit as a flirt.
"I am not good at dancing," Yasha admits.
"Is there such thing as being good or bad at dancing?" Caduceus wonders.
"Yes," Fjord insists, and gestures to where the rest of their party are swinging each other around in chaotic circles, "and that is not good."
"I think it's all about feeling," Caduceus says, and holds out a hand to Yasha, "I think we should go feel it together."
"Oh, I'm really not good at it," Yasha deflects.
"Just a bit of fun," Caduceus asks, and bats his pale, pink eyelashes at her.
Yasha's shoulders relax, and she takes his hand, "Just a little bit."
"Would you two like to join?" Caduceus asks.
Fjord huffs a laugh, "Oh, no thank you. I'll watch the disaster from here."
Bryce considers asking more, curious about how this… thing might work in a travelling party of adventurers. But when they turn to speak to Fjord, the man is looking at his dancing friends with such a fond expression that Bryce doesn't dare break the spell.
3. Pumat Sol
The door opens with a bite of cold air, and Pumat looks up from his station.
“Oh, why, hello there, strangers!” Pumat calls.
Caleb Widowgast stops short, shoulders coming up like he’s been caught red handed. His little goblin shadow does the same, though she’s mostly obscured by his long coat. Jester, charming as always, lights up at the greeting.
“Hello Pumats!” she shouts, waving even as she approaches the front desk.
Caleb and Nott recover from their fright and follow in her wake.
“It has been, like, so long since we have been here,” Jester says, and lays both hands down on the countertop, “we have so much to tell you!”
“I look forwards to it,” Pumat says with a laugh.
“But, um, first,” Caleb cuts in, and he looks up at Pumat but still never makes eye contact, which is another interesting trait of his. Lots of wizards are awkward people, some get shy and some get rude to make up for it. Pumat’s seen a lot.
Caleb clears his throat as all eyes fall on him, “I was hoping to request some, um, some thoughts. Or, perhaps, a second set of eyes.”
“A consultation?” Pumat echoes, “oh that’d be neat. You workin’ on a new spell?”
“Caleb is so smart, he’s making lots of new spells,” Jester says excitedly.
“He’s the smartest man I know!” Nott announces.
Caleb’s pale cheeks glow pink with the praise. He all but ducks into the thick scarf around his neck.
“Ah, yes, well, I am working on some ideas,” Caleb admits, and he reaches in under his coat to retrieve a well-worn journal. He hesitates briefly, fingers resting on the book, before opening it to a specific page and setting it down, “I find I am having trouble connecting some of the runes, and was wondering if you might have any, um, advice, for someone as novice as myself.”
He makes a good play of that, of being meek. Pumat wonders if Caleb pulls this trick on every spellcaster he meets, with the intention of letting the other feel superior to him. Or maybe Caleb thinks this is the best way to talk to someone in their own shop, or maybe it’s his way of complimenting people he likes. He seems to submit to his travelling party often enough in conversations.
In any case, Pumat is well aware that Caleb is much smarter than he lets on. And is quickly gathering experience and testing skills that will make him a formidable spellcaster.
Always nice to see what other people are working on.
“Well I’m not so great at the enchanting myself, but Pumat Prime should be on break in an hour or so. You wanna come back then and see if he has time? Or you could leave your book here and we’ll get back to you in a few days.”
It’s always a stretch, considering how valuable spells are to spellcasters, but it’s worth asking anyways.
Caleb’s eyes narrow briefly, calculating, and then he batts his eyelashes like he is, for all the world, naive and sweet.
“That is alright,” he says, “I can return. An hour, you said?”
“That’s right,” Pumat agrees.
“I will see you then,” Caleb says, and bows his head respectfully.
“Anything else I can do for any of you ladies?” Pumat offers.
“Oh no, we’re just keeping Caleb company,” Nott says.
“And we are going to get some pastries,” Jester recalls, and she twirls in a tight circle before stopping to point at Caleb, “and you are not going to shove your hands in it this time!”
Pumat keeps his expression under complete control as he watches Caleb’s face soften, and that flush in his face returns.
“It was very warm,” he says, referring to some joke Pumat doesn’t know, “and it is cold out now.”
“Caleb,” Jester hisses.
“I’ll buy you all the bread you want!” Nott offers.
Nott is the one to take Caleb’s hand as they exit the shop. The three of them wave goodbye as they head out into the cold.
Pumat pulls out a journal from under the desk. He keeps track of inquiries and requests, to see if there’s a growing demand for things or to keep track of regulars and how frequently they drop in. He makes another note under the space for the Mighty Nein.
Results are inconclusive. But he tallies another mark for Jester and Caleb, and another, on top of many, for Caleb and Nott. There are tallies for all sorts of combinations, which keeps the guessing fun.
Sorcerers can’t help but be curious, it’s in their nature. But outright asking about peoples’ personal affairs would be rude. Pumat has the social graces to know that, and besides, it makes for some fun gossip with the other Pumats.
Caleb, the absolute keener of a wizard, returns five minutes exactly after an hour has passed. Pumat assumes he’s trying to appear fashionably late, so it doesn’t seem like he’s returned exactly on time. He’s not alone. His constant companion, Nott, is at his side, and this time Fjord and Beauregard are with them. Fjord is comically bundled up in a large jacket against the cold. Pumat notices a smattering of pink lichen on the shoulders. Oh, ah, that reminds him of that tall fellow the Mighty Nein picked up in their travels.
“I am wearing a coat, I’m fine!” Beauregard snaps at Fjord, continuing their conversation.
“You don’t have sleeves, it doesn’t button up, and you’re barely wearing a shirt!” Fjord points out.
“I’m not wearing Caduceus’ jacket,” Beauregard says, crossing her arms so her biceps flex, “it smells weird, and it’s kind of sticky.”
“That’s just how Caduceus smells!” Fjord argues.
Pumat is distracted from the conversation as Caleb, and Nott, approach the counter.
“Welcome back,” Pumat greets.
“Hello,” Caleb says, and the chill has made his cheeks and nose especially rosy against his pale skin. He blinks owlishly, and tries not to rock up onto his toes in excitement, but the slight bounce is noticeable anyways, “we had discussed a meeting with Pumat Sol the prime, earlier, yes? Is he available for a consult?”
“Yeah, sure, lemme just check on the Boss,” Pumat offers. He sees another Pumat pop his head out at the sound of Beauregard and Fjord arguing.
“Gettin’ rowdy,” he comments. They both laugh.
Not ten minutes later, Caleb is sitting down with the Boss while Pumat brews a pot of tea for everyone. Fjord, Beauregard and Nott are perusing the items. Always a fun time when the Mighty Nein are in town, that’s for sure.
“Now tell me,” Pumat Sol says, “what is this spell here for?”
"It is for privacy," Caleb says, and nervously smooths out the pages of his notebook as he sets it flat on the table, "and, I'm, it is for practicality. And storage."
Pumat Sol leans over the table to read over the notes, "Ah! A pocket dimension. Neat little trick there, comes in handy for a lot of things."
Pumat, standing by the kettle, sees Nott has noticed something on display and pointed it out to Beauregard. Another Pumat is already closing the distance to engage them, so he stays by the kettle. Nott runs across the shop to Caleb's side.
"Caleb, I need that shiny rock I found by the river the other day," Nott calls, "there's a hat here that looks just like it."
"Left pocket," he says, and turns back to Pumat Sol. Nott immediately starts going through the inner pockets of the coat Caleb is wearing, where several more, hidden pockets have been sewn into the lining.
"This spell is important to me, to protect valuable things, and keep my secrets," Caleb explains to Pumat Sol. He shifts in his chair so that Nott can reach deeper into one of his many pockets in her hunt. Caleb continues speaking as if he is unaware of the goblin rooting through his things, "as I'm sure you have guessed, I value my privacy and I do not like people touching my belongings."
"Found it!" Nott shouts excitedly, holding her rock up triumphantly. She glances between Caleb and Pumat Sol, recognizing her outburst has intruded on their conversation, "my apologies," she stammers, "please, carry on."
And she returns to Beauregard and Pumat at the counter.
Pumat Sol nods, and taps a finger to his nose as he thinks. It's only because Pumat is doing the same that he knows the Prime is covering a smile. A wizard who lets goblins have free reign on his pockets, but wants to ward against untrustworthy types and sticky fingers? Well, that's just sweet.
"So, what part of it are you needing a consult on?" Pumat Sol asks.
"The tethering," Caleb says, "I want to ensure the object will be preserved, but also that it cannot be snatched away while it is in stasis."
He spins the book around, so that it is now open to Pumat Sol to read. Pumat Sol does not reach for it until Caleb slides it across the table to him, offering.
Wizards, Pumat muses. Such a paranoid and precise bunch.
The kettle finally boils and he steeps and serves the tea to everyone. Caleb and the Prime are now engaged in Wizard Talk and could be done anywhere in the next few minutes to a few hours from now.
Beauregard declines the tea, glancing over at the wizards talking, "I'm actually supposed to go meet Jester and Yasha soon."
Fjord makes a soft huff noise.
Beauregard rounds on him, "Look, dude, I'm sorry! But it's girl’s day!"
"Nott wasn't invited," Fjord protests.
"I hate the spa," Nott says.
"You know I love the spa," Fjord pleads.
"We're just having some girl time," Beauregard says, "how about we go for a beer later, if you're that sad about it?"
"Depends how long Caleb is," Fjord shrugs, "maybe Nott and I will go on a lunch date."
"I'm not the dating type," Nott adds.
Fjord rolls his eyes, "Or I'll go back and talk to Caduceus. I'm sure he'll want to do something with me."
"I offered drinks!" Beauregard protests, "what more do you want?"
"It's fine," Fjord waves her off, "I know who really cares about me here."
Beauregard punches him in the upper arm, and Fjord grits his teeth to not recoil from the hit.
"Not fair! You know I care," she says.
Fjord crosses his arms as he nods quietly in agreement.
"If you really cared you'd wear a proper coat," Fjord points out.
"You're so annoying," she groans, and raises her middle finger at him, "I'm gone. Bye Pumat," she waves and heads for the door.
They haven't looked up from the table the whole time, but Caleb stands abruptly.
"Beauregard," he says, and moves to meet her at the door. He pulls off his scarf and holds it out to her.
"You're both annoying," Beauregard says, but she ducks her head to let Caleb wrap the scarf around her neck.
"You are much worse to deal with when you are sick," Caleb comments.
That makes Beauregard laugh as Caleb tugs the scarf into place. She pushes him away playfully, and takes her leave.
Pumat has made his way back to where they keep their customer logbook. Fjord and Nott peruse the shelves, with a Pumat nearby to answer any questions they might have. It's nice to hear the murmur of voices.
Caleb returns to speak with the Prime, and the two of them crowd over Caleb's notebook as they talk shop.
Pumat pulls out the logbook and begins adding some new gossip to their page on the Mighty Nein.
4. Dairon
“Beauregard is here?” Dairon says with an air of disbelief. It’s hard to imagine the Expositor willingly spending the night in the place she always made a point of escaping.
“Yes,” Zeenoth says, with genuine shock. He scrapes jam over his toast, and glances about before adding, “and she did not come alone.”
While, technically, gossip is the trade of the Cobalt Soul, and an integral part of information gathering, Dairon truly has little patience for it. She says nothing as Zeenoth waits for her to ask him more. Members of the Cobalt don’t swear any vows of chastity, so Dairon can’t imagine why this is important news at all. And especially why she is being bothered about this over breakfast.
“Her travelling… companions,” Zeenoth finally says, unable to contain himself.
“I’ve met them,” Dairon says noncommittally. She sips her tea and thinks about having another sweet cake, or is four already too many? But they’re so tasty...
Zeenoth is still staring at her, and so Dairon decides on having one more, if she has to suffer this idle gossip on Beauregard’s life choices.
The conversation is saved when Expositor Tubo joins them at the table.
“What are your thoughts on this?” Zeenoth asks once Tubo settles in.
“On what?” Tubo asks, and glances between the two, “Beauregard?”
Dairon furrows her brow, “Why would you assume we were talking—”
“The acolytes won’t stop talking,” Tubo says, and laughs softly, “she’s their hero, and any time she comes by she’s doing something else completely unpredictable.”
Dairon groans and gestures at Zeenoth, “As I’ve been hearing. She brought the… the Mighty Nein? Her company?”
Tubo chuckles, glances at Zeenoth, and Ioun help her, Dairon is stuck with two gossips.
“As far as the rumors go, they might be more than travelling companions,” he says.
Dairon furrows her brow, “Are you suggesting—”
“The Expositor has a harem,” Zeenoth says excitedly. Both he and Tubo laugh like this is delightful news.
Dairon thinks back to her time in Xhorhas. The details she shared about her time there were carefully selected, and she mostly reported only her findings. Certainly not that she served as a housekeeper to the Mighty Nein.
She went through enough of their things to be certain of their characters. Dairon can’t recall if she ever found anything hinting at more carnal relationships.
Well, there were less beds in the house than there were members. She’d originally assumed this was due to budget, or perhaps racial choice, as the firbolg and the Xhorhasian woman both seemed to prefer soil to bedding.
“What do you think?” Tubo asks, “any credence to this theory?”
“Why would she bring them here?” Zeenoth asks, “certainly a hotel room is better suited for such—”
“Good morning,” Beauregard says, tossing her plate of breakfast onto the table loudly.
All three monks turn and look up at her, very surprised by her approach.
Beauregard grins, lopsided and smug, “Jessie wanted to know if it was possible to sneak up on y’all. Now she owes me a backrub.”
Dairon picks a piece off of her sweet cake and eats it rather than respond. Dairon notes that Beauregard’s hair is tied back with a brightly colored ribbon. It takes only a moment to recognize it as one of Jester’s.
“These guys boring you to death yet?” Beauregard asks, swinging a leg over the bench to straddle it and sit down beside Dairon.
“Sleep well, Expositor?” Tubo greets.
Beau gives him a small wave, “Kinda. Caduceus snores super loud, and Caleb is determined to get a full day of studying in so now I’m up this early. Plus, trying to fit a bunch of people onto one bed? Oof.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Zeenoth says, “I don’t make a habit of inviting people into my private chambers.”
Beauregard wrinkles her nose with a laugh, “Maybe you should? You’d probably be less of a dick.”
Dairon eats another piece of cake. She pointedly does not laugh.
“I’m taking Caleb into the library today, but can I meet up with you later?” Beauregard turns to Dairon, “I was hoping to do some training.”
“Expositor Tubo is a skilled tutor,” Dairon says.
“I want to do it with you,” Beauregard says, “and to, uh, trade some tips. My friends and I learned some new things after you left.”
“Hopefully you learned to stop making such a mess,” Dairon says, but folds. She’s far too fond of Beauregard and it’s dangerous, “I will meet you in your quarters tonight.”
“Cool,” Beauregard says, and pauses before she stands up, “is it, uh, is it okay if my friends are there? Or would you prefer it to be like a, uh, private thing?”
While Dairon has no sense of loyalty or fondness to the people Beauregard lets herself be weak for, it will be good to see them again to reassess where they are at, and see how their travels have changed them. Update her information on them. Discover if there are deeper relationships than she previously assumed. She can’t have been so blind as to miss seven possible romances.
“The group will be fine,” Dairon says, “I can handle their attention.”
“Awesome,” Beauregard says, and grabs her plate as she stands, “I’ll see you then.”
She leaves them be, heading across the mess hall to join her friend— Caleb, the curious, cagey human— at another table. Rather than sit across from, Dairon watches as Beauregard sits down beside him. They bend their heads together, talking quietly, as they eat off the same plate. Curious. As much as she hates gossip, there are typically kernels of truth peppered throughout it. Romantic gossip is wrong as often as it is right, but Dairon will be keeping an eye out for such crumbs during her meeting tonight with the Mighty Nein.
When she turns back to her own food, both Zeenoth and Tubo are watching her curiously.
“What?” Dairon asks.
“She’s very fond of you,” Tubo says. And it would be an idle statement if not for the smug tone in his voice.
“What else happened in Xhorhas that you aren’t telling us?” Zeenoth asks. It’s his equally smug tone that helps Dairon connect the dots.
“I am not discussing this,” Dairon informs them. She refuses to be part of any gossip.
“Perhaps Beauregard’s companions are not as tight-lipped,” Tubo offers, “would they have better stories?”
5. Essek
Essek is in for a fitting with his tailor when he spots two familiar figures. The aasimar and firbolg of the Mighty Nein. What were their names again? Yasha and… Caduceus. Yes.
He has a moment while his tailor is fetching some accent color swatches, so he makes his way across the shop to them. Caduceus is bent over several rolls of fabric on display.
“Greetings,” he says to announce himself.
Yasha, standing like a guard for Caduceus, doesn’t move anything but her head to look down at him. Essek is walking on purpose because the robe he’s being fit for has to be walkable in, so he won’t trip should he need to go anywhere by foot. He can’t imagine anything more demeaning or embarrassing.
“Hello,” she says. Essek tries to think of a time that he spoke to her one-on-one and comes up short Usually he addresses the group at large, or speaks with Caleb or Jester. Yasha is not one for many words, and Essek can appreciate that.
“Out for some errands?” Essek inquires, and at Yasha’s curious look he adds, “I’m here for a fitting. You are in a well-esteemed business.”
“Caleb said you recommended this place,” Caduceus adds, turning to face him finally.
“Is he here?” Essek asks, and glances around as if he might spot the human. Humans stand out in the capital, so he’s surprised to have missed him.
Yasha shakes her head, “Some of our friends are, um, foreign, as you know. They felt like locals would receive the best treatment. We’re doing some shopping for them.”
Essek laughs, more of a smile than sound. He’s not sure if he’s sad that Caleb isn’t here, “Yes, yes they are probably correct.”
“I think they find it strange to be the odd ones out here,” Caduceus remarks. It’s almost funny coming from someone who is so vibrantly pink that his hair nearly glows in the low light. Caduceus holds out two strips of cloth to Essek, “Caleb was asking about making a new coat. I’m not sure which one carries better energy for him. As a magic user, what do you think?”
Essek appreciates that Caduceus trusts his opinion. He will be sure to give it full thought, and takes his time inspecting both fabrics.
“Forgive me, but, if he is heavy on arcane powers, especially in combat, then there may be a better choice yet,” Essek says, and gestures to a section of folded fabrics that Caduceus and Yasha may have not noticed yet, “I prefer clothing made from this cloth, as it holds up better to the… surprises that the arcane can bring. It would suit Caleb, I think.”
“Ah,” Caduceus nods agreeably, and grimaces as he adds, “unfortunately I believe this is out of our price range at this time, but I’ll pass along the knowledge to him. Perhaps he can make that a goal—”
Social standing is what isolated Essek from his peers in the first place. While he and Caleb have bonded on the strength of their ambition and curiosity in the arcane, Essek is wary to add class conflict to their relationship. He must make this right, or risk losing the only friends he has.
“I meant no insult,” Essek says quickly, “and I’ll cover the difference. I should like my… my friend to be well equipped.”
“I’m sure he will appreciate that, thank you,” Caduceus says.
While they’re in this area, Yasha spies a blue fabric with shimmery gold woven into it. It’s lovely, though Essek has never seen her wear anything but monochromatic colors.
“I’ll get this for Beau,” she announces, and then remembers the increased price, “perhaps she can make… a scarf. Or headband with it.”
Such a generous gift. Essek looks back to the fabric he’d picked out for Caleb, and wonders for a moment if he’s overstepped his bounds. While he may have mended the financial difference, there is the issue that perhaps the gift was intended to be a romantic one. Essek isn’t blind, he’s well aware of the romantic intricacies of the Mighty Nein, and how it’s unlike anything he has ever encountered before.
But he was asked for his opinion… so… did he make any mistakes? Has he impacted his relationship with the Mighty Nein in a positive or negative way?
“I must finish my appointment,” Essek says, because he wants to ask more, while it’s a manageable and sensible number of people and not the entire party, “but, perhaps you could join me for lunch after? It’s not often I have the pleasure of encountering friends like this.”
“That would be lovely, thank you,” Caduceus says.
Friends. Essek likes the sound of that.
They find themselves at a very Xhorhasian cafe. Because the drow dislike sunlight, and due to the cold and unforgiving weather often found in the country, most congregations are indoors or underground. This is no different. They’re shown to a quiet booth underground, carved into rock and lit by magical torches that provide a steady glow, rather than flickering firelight.
Yasha grows excited when she spies spider meat on the menu.
“You’re very doting on your… partners,” Essek notes. He wants to know more, but with how protective the Mighty Nein are of one another, perhaps it’s a topic to be treated with caution. The last thing he wants is to set them against him because he’s been unknowingly rude.
“We all take care of each other,” Caduceus agrees, “our little venture wouldn’t work if we didn’t put our hearts into it.”
“Of course,” Essek agrees.
“Partners,” Yasha remarks, “I do like the sound of that.”
“We’ve been so undefined,” Caduceus laughs, “partners does have a nice ring to it.”
“I—I am curious, if you don’t mind,” Essek tries. How to word himself properly?
“Of course,” Caduceus says, “I’ll answer as best I can.”
Essek reminds himself that he has bathed with these people. They have consistently forgone proper etiquette with him. Perhaps he is allowed some nosiness about their affairs.
“I don’t mean to pry, but, well, my people are so… solitary. We don’t have the capacity for many partners, not like you seem to have. May I— how did you come to be?”
Caduceus sits back and looks at Yasha with wide eyes. They’re communicating something. Either Essek has overstepped his good graces and offended them, or perhaps he will only be afforded a sliver of the truth. He prepares himself for either outcome.
“I was with Molly, when I met the others,” Yasha finally says. There’s a longing to her voice. Essek recognizes the name. They have mentioned a lost companion— this Molly.
“I think I’m the newest,” Caduceus agrees.
“Yes, you helped them save me,” Yasha says, and she smiles warmly.
“Did you meet in the Empire?” Essek asks.
“We did,” Yasha says, and she thinks for a moment, “we were in the circus, and then we were arrested because the town thought we were involved in some… bad things. So, we decided to try being, well, together. And it worked.”
That makes sense to Essek. He was fairly certain that non-monogamy was unusual within the Empire. But a circus would be the type of atmosphere to find others of a more… deviant nature.
“Were you specifically searching for— for more?” Essek asks.
Yasha falls silent, thinking.
Caduceus fills the quiet, “Well, for me at least, I’d been alone for so long, and then the others came looking for me. And we met, and I just knew they were what I had been waiting for.”
Essek finds himself a little jealous of that certainty. What would it be like, to simply meet someone and know?
“I didn’t know what I wanted,” Yasha finally admits, “I was so lost, I wasn’t really looking for companions. But I’m so happy that Molly and I joined the others. I can’t imagine my life without them.”
“It is a special thing, to have such influence on each others’ lives,” Essek says. Perhaps he’s too wistful, showing his hand too heavily, because Caduceus’ ears perk up.
Their food is delivered, and thankfully Caduceus doesn’t press the issue as they all dig into their servings.
Essek runs over this new information carefully. They approached new partners as a group, with intention. So, it’s likely that should he press his luck, he would be rejected. Best to hold his tongue and bide his time, rather than lose the only friendships he has ever valued.
“You know,” Caduceus comments, “we like you a lot. Well, Jester and Caleb definitely like you, and I think the rest of us trust their judgement.”
“That’s very kind,” Essek says, and wills himself not to blush.
“We tend to pick up a new member of the Mighty Nein everywhere we go,” Caduceus continues, and he smiles warmly at Essek as he says, “and I feel like you might be next.”
What?
His thoughts race back over all of his interactions with the Mighty Nein. The pranking, which he’d thought was insubordination at first. The invasive messages at all hours, with no respect for proper etiquette. Inviting him to share food with them, to bathe with them.
And here he thought he would have to develop his companionship with Caleb carefully, so as not to draw ire from Caleb’s partners. Is Essek so blind that he hasn’t realized he’s being courted this whole time?
Has the entire Mighty Nein looked at him, and found him someone worth wanting?
Essek chokes on his tea.
“Are you alright?” Yasha asks. Essek carefully dabs at his shirt with a napkin.
“Just fine,” he says, and his voice is perfectly fine. It doesn’t crack one bit. At all.
“Did I say something funny?” Caduceus asks, and turns to Yasha for help. She shrugs helplessly.
“I—I apologize,” Essek says, and he’s perfectly calm and not stammering, “but I— I received— I forgot I have to go.”
“You’ve barely touched your food,” Caduceus points out.
“It was lovely to see you. Goodbye,” Essek says, and he forces himself to float if only because then he cannot run away.
He makes sure to pay for their meals before he leaves.
+1. Yeza
Caleb looks impossibly tall next to Luc as he accompanies Yeza’s son into the ocean surf. While Yeza has known big folk his whole life, he’s still never gotten over the odd sensation that they are strange. How do they not get dizzy with their heads so high off the ground?
Luc loves it, because Caleb can take him into deeper water where the waves get a little too big for Yeza to handle, but Caleb can help Luc jump over them by holding his hands and hoisting him up every time. Luc squeals loudly and demands they do it ‘again! again!’.
Yeza settles back onto the blanket he and Veth have spread out in the sand. She’s wearing a swimsuit, but they both know she won’t go into the water. It’s so nice to have her here, to see her, that Yeza can’t help but reach out and tuck some hair behind her ear.
Caduceus and Jester are building a sandcastle— or perhaps a whole town, with the scale of their work. Yasha, Fjord and Beauregard are out further into the surf, and appear to be trying to convince Yasha to toss either Fjord, Beauregard, or both.
“Caleb’s good with kids,” Yeza comments.
Yeza supposes Caleb is handsome, for a human. And Yeza appreciates how smart he is, and how kind he’s been to Veth. From what Yeza understands, even outside the magic spell it took to bring Veth’s true self back, without Caleb it’s likely he would have never gotten Veth back at all.
“Caleb’s good with Luc,” Veth corrects him with a laugh, “and only because he wants to impress you.”
Yeza can’t imagine why that would be the case. Caleb is a highly skilled magic user. He’s an adventurer. And he wants to impress Yeza?
Well, actually, Yeza can imagine why. There’s something Yeza has been aware of for some time now, but hasn’t spoken of.
It’s not that he thinks poorly of Veth, but that he had to come to understand that she is both the woman he loved and married years ago, and she is also someone completely new who goes out into the world and slays monsters and brings home riches beyond anything he thought he would ever know. It’s a fascinating dichotomy.
But it also meant that Yeza had to grow with her, or become something holding her back.
“That’s nice of him,” Yeza says.
Veth slides her fingers between his as they watch her companions. Out in the water Beauregard springs off of Yasha’s toss into a high arc followed by an expert dive. She surfaces with a shout, and begins swimming back while Yasha prepares to launch Fjord in a similar manner.
“There’s something on your mind,” Veth says.
Yeza hums an agreeable sound. He wasn’t thinking of having this conversation here, but, it’s so rare they get time just to themselves. Rarer still to have Veth visit at all. He misses her so much sometimes he thinks his heart might burst when he lays eyes on her again.
“What should we tell Luc?” he asks.
Veth pauses a moment as they watch Fjord get flung into the air. He attempts to dive like Beauregard, but hits the water at an angle, resulting in a loud smack sound and spray of water.
“Tell him about what?” she finally asks.
“He’s going to wonder, and talk about, who— what— the others are. To him, to us. Should— does Aunty and Uncle work?” Yeza asks.
Veth shrugs, “I guess? I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“And, um, I think we should— I mean, he’s a smart kid— but maybe we should wait to tell him the truth.” For all that he’s intelligent, Yeza finds actually getting his thoughts out into the world to be one of life's biggest challenges.
“About me?” Veth asks. She pulls her hand away from his, “I don’t want him to know anything about—”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Yeza insists, because he does believe it, “it’s different, yes, but maybe that’s the small-town in me talking. And I think when Luc is old enough to understand, he won’t care. Because his mom is happy, and his dad is happy—”
“He doesn’t ever need to know his mom died and became a goblin!” Veth insists.
Yeza pauses, dumbstruck, “That… well, okay.”
Veth pauses now, waiting for him to speak, and when he doesn’t, she says, “That’s not what we’re talking about?”
“No,” Yeza admits. He wonders if he shouldn’t have taken the easy way out. Perhaps they aren’t ready for this conversation yet.
“What shouldn’t Luc know about?” Veth presses.
“Well you— you know, the Mighty Nein,” Yeza says, and gestures at the assortment of people his wife has charmed.
Veth looks out to where Caleb and Luc have joined Jester and Caduceus. Luc has been given free reign to start stomping the sand village under his feet.
Now Veth looks at Yeza like he’s crazy, “Luc knows who they are.”
“But he doesn’t know that— you know,” Yeza says.
“Know what?” Veth says.
She’s really going to make him come out and say it. And Yeza supposes he should stop being so awkward. He never thought of himself as prudish before, but, apparently he can still learn new things about himself, “I suppose what I am saying, is that I’ve put a lot of thought into it. And I’m happy for your relationship with the Mighty Nein. And I— I don’t know how romantic I can be with anyone but you, let alone six others, but I’m willing to try. But I just think we should wait until Luc is older to tell him about our polyamorous lifestyle.”
He sounds so much more confident than he feels, and gets the rest of his speech out in a rush.
Veth is struck speechless. Yeza wonders if she’d thought she was keeping that part of her life as a secret, and thought she was keeping it well. It’s impossible to miss how fond she is of Caleb and the others. You’d have to be blind not to notice it.
“Would that— I still want to be your husband,” Yeza insists, “I love you, and I want whatever makes you happy. And if this— if they are what make you happy, then I want to be part of that too—”
He stops because Veth has begun laughing at him, like he’s missed something crucial. Before Yeza can ask, Veth pulls him in for a kiss.
“You are the best husband ever,” she says.
Yeza supposes they can talk more later. Right now, he’d like to kiss his wife again.