Shelter

Nicodranas is hot. It’s hot in a way that home never was, even when the woods were warm and sunny and Caduceus would run after his siblings with no shirt on his back and be sweating by the end of their playtime. 

It’s nice, he thinks. A nice experience. It’s hard to be unhappy when he’s thawed out like this. 

Nicodranas is also crowded. Very crowded. It’s kind of delightful, with the overwhelming sounds and scents of many people going about their lives. Caduceus thinks he prefers smaller towns, he likes the quiet, but there’s something to appreciate in the energy here. 

They aren’t out on much of a mission– they came to Nicodranas to visit with Jester’s mother and soak up some sunshine in between tasks. Caduceus wants to buy some new spices before they set off again. Caleb, Jester and Nott have gone to find books. Beauregard and Fjord are accompanying Caduceus, and the company is nice. Beau has complained about how boring shopping can be, using her staff to slouch against like she’s too weak to go on. Fjord humors her by tapping out the bottom of her staff with his boot, making her stumble and make idle threats at him. 

It’s tame, as far as their group goes. 

There’s lots of things to pay attention to, and while Caduceus is focused on finding his spices, he can’t help but casually observe the crowd. He can spot wealthy nobles, from the shine of their jewelry to the lack of mud on their boots, the middle class, with some seams re-sewn to repair well-worn clothes, and even the very poor. That mostly consists of beggars along the edges of the street. No one pays much attention to any of them. Of course there are some zolezzo present, casually patrolling the area, but nothing catches Caduceus’ attention enough to take his mind off of his task. Every so often a merchant shouts about their wares, to draw in a crowd. Someone bumps into someone else. A cart driver yells for people to clear the way as they lead their horses through. It’s a calming kind of chaos. 

Things happen very quickly once Caduceus smells cinnamon. He moves closer, catching the merchants attention, and begins to speak. There’s a warm breeze that makes Caduceus pause. It’s sweeter than the air on the Menagerie Coast, more familiar, and curls through his hair like fingers. He’s aware that Fjord turns away from them, marching forwards with enough speed that Beauregard calls after him. And this all happens right as there’s a shout a few venders down. Angry shouting. People are stopping and looking. 

There’s a crowd between him and the commotion, it’s hard to see, but Caduceus is tall enough to spy over everyone’s heads. He can see a tall man leaning over something– or someone. Caduceus can’t see them. He sees the back of Fjord’s head on the edge of the crowd, and Caduceus moves to catch up. 

The man is yelling, and swings his arm. There’s a loud smack, skin on skin, and he’s struck someone.

“You can’t lie to me! Do you think the guard will believe you? They’ll take you off to the camps and–”

And then, just as fast, Caduceus sees Fjord has moved three strides forwards and summoned Dwueth’var, which closes the distance enough that the blade is pressed to the merchants throat. 

“You should stop now,” Fjord growls. People are edging away from Fjord, nervous about a weapon being drawn and the obvious magic involved in summoning it. 

Caduceus moves in Fjord’s wake, Beauregard right in front of him, and he feels a little stunned by how quickly things escalated. Jester and Nott aren’t even present! Usually this is a recipe for a calm outing. 

He finally gets eyes on what caused Fjord to act so recklessly. There, on the ground with a hand pressed to her cheek where she must have been slapped, is a child. She’s in rags, her dress was probably made for someone her size, but years ago, and she’s dirty. She’s obviously not human either. Caduceus isn’t sure what she is, that’s not really important, but it feels like it means something. 

Caduceus glances from Fjord to the girl, and wonders if Fjord is now the hero he wished he had when he was her age. 

“I think what my friend’s trying to say is,” Beau says, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Fjord, and she casually leans forwards on her staff while pausing for effect, “fuck off.”

It’s hard to be brave with a sharp edge in your throat, and the merchant says nothing but glances around with wild eyes. 

Caduceus is here to ease tensions, and delicately places a hand on Fjord’s outstretched arm. He doesn’t move him, but he feels Fjord tense, and then relax and willingly lower the sword. 

“We’ll be going now,” Caduceus says politely, “sorry for the inconvenience.” 

“You–” the merchant sputters, and looks about for some guards. They’ll be along shortly no doubt, with the small crowd that’s gathered, “you can’t just threaten–”

“Goodbye,” Caduceus says firmly. 

Fjord dismisses the sword in a flurry of snowflakes, and bends down to help the girl up. Or, maybe, that’s what he intends. But she leaps into his arms, throwing her hands around his neck, and he uses both arms to hold her as he stands up. 

Fjord must know what he’s doing, or have a plan, because he starts walking away. Caduceus follows, with Beau holding on a moment longer, glaring at the merchant and possibly daring him to pick a fight, before she walks away too. 

This is… not how Caduceus expected today to go. But then again, he likes the idea that his group is moving towards random acts of heroism versus their past of questionable acts of criminal activity. 

Fjord walks out of the market, shoulders up and with the little girls hands just visible around his neck from where Caduceus is following. He’s walking with purpose, or maybe he’s scowling, but people actively move out of his way. It’s different than those early days when Caduceus used to watch Fjord keep his head down and try to go unnoticed. 

Beauregard slides up beside Caduceus, and with a quick trot she’s walking beside Fjord, and openly looks at the kid Fjord’s carrying and then up at Fjord himself. The two of them are a good unit together. It’s nice that they’re so close. 

“She okay?” Beau asks.

Fjord finally starts to slow down, and glances around before he hefts the child a little higher in his arms. Caduceus can see the top of her head over Fjord’s shoulder now, and she takes one look at Caduceus and ducks her head down fearfully. 

“Are you hungry?” Fjord asks her.

She nods. 

“You can join us for lunch. We’re staying at the Lavish Chateau,” Fjord says, and then adds, “my name is Fjord.”

The child mumbles something, soft, just for Fjord. Caduceus can see Fjord blink in surprise, and then he sets the girl down on her feet. She’s very little. Especially to someone of Caduceus’ size. She immediately leans into Fjord and grabs up at his hand. Fjord holds hers like she’s a high ranking royal. And then they’re walking again.

Caduceus doesn’t think it’s any harm to invite a hungry child to lunch. 

“We’ll be just in time to meet the others,” Beauregard says, “I bet Nott has small clothes– or, oh, I bet Jester has a bunch of old dresses we can use.”

“Wonderful,” Fjord agrees. His pace has been slowed considerably as he stays slightly slouched to continue holding the girls hand. 

Caduceus looks between them, following just a step behind. The conversation is beginning to sound… rehearsed? Predicted? Like they’re executing a plan.  

Was there a plan for this? Sometimes the group comes up with things that Caduceus doesn’t quite grasp. Did they intend to find a child today? Beauregard and Fjord are both handling this much more calmly than Caduceus would have assumed they would. Neither of them have ever shown any particular affinity for children before. 

Is this how people get kids down south? Just pick them up off the street? 

No, no, that doesn’t seem right. 

They make it back to the Chateau without further interruption. At one point a group of zolezzo run past them, off to deal with some activity elsewhere in the city. But they spook the girl and she hops up onto Fjord’s hip, making herself small and unseen under his cloak, and so he picks her up and carries her the rest of the way back. 

Caduceus thinks it’s nice to see Fjord walking with his head held high. It’s a nice change of pace for him. The girl nervously looks over Fjord’s shoulder at Caduceus several times. She shrinks away when he waves at her. 

It’s only now that they’ve collected one child that Caduceus notices the absence of the others. It’s not like Nicodranas was a hive of children, but there were always some kids wandering about in the markets or looking for cold treats in the heat. But now that he’s paying attention there’s… nothing. Caduceus doesn’t see anyone young enough to call a child. Strange. 

Jester and Caleb are delightedly reading some new purchases, and snacking on sweets that Jester must have found. Nott is enjoying a drink and the ambiance of the Chateau when they enter. A large platter of breads, meats, and cheese has already been set out for the group, but the three of them have clearly been waiting for everyone else to arrive before they start eating it. 

“Hey, Fjord got a kid,” Beauregard announces. 

“She’s joining us for lunch,” Fjord says, as a means of explanation.

Caleb closes his book slowly as he lifts his head to stare at them incredulously. There’s a moment of silence, Caleb staring aggressively, and the girl recoiling into Fjord’s chest. Caduceus is thankful that someone else is finally as confused as he is about the situation. 

Caleb shakes his head to clear his thoughts, and smiles in what he thinks is a welcoming manner. It doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Yes, of course,” Caleb says to Fjord, and then to the girl, “you look very hungry.”

Caduceus had expected a lot more questioning. Maybe this really was the plan all along? What does the group want with a child? Caduceus never agreed to this. Kids are nice but they’re… big. They’re so big in such small forms. And they need so many answers.

“Oh my god you’re filthy,” Nott says, and shuffles closer to Caleb to make room, “you’re going to eat, and then we’re going to get you a bath.”

Fjord sets the girl down on the bench, but she recoils from Nott. Nott snaps her fingers, and magically changes her appearance to be that of her halfling face. The girl relaxes slightly, and allows Fjord to put her down. Fjord sits down right beside her, almost as if he’s guarding her. Beau joins the table, and the group starts eating without any more comments on the absurdity of the situation. Caduceus stands back and stares at them, and wonders when he missed the meeting where they all decided to add to their numbers. 

“This is the best food in the city,” Jester informs the girl, “my mama works here, and so we can eat as much as we need to until we’re full.”

The girls eyes have gone wide, looking at the food, and she glances up at Fjord and beckons him to lean down. She whispers in his ear and he pulls back to nod in agreement,and gesture at the food again to her. And then she lunges forwards to start snatching anything within reach and stuff it into her mouth. Her ferocity delights Beauregard who laughs and then mimics the enthusiasm. 

“Caduceus? Can you get her some milk?” Fjord asks. 

This seems strangely like they’ve all done this a million times before, like this is a family setting. Caduceus begins to wonder if he’s dreaming. These events aren’t right. This is not how things go with this group, and not how things were intended to go. He’s hit his head. He’s having a strange– not unpleasant, just strange– dream. 

Might as well go along with it. 

“Sure,” he says, and gets some for himself too. Dream milk will probably be delicious.

As far as dreams go, this might be one of the more nonsensical, but also pleasant ones that Caduceus has ever had. He wonders if Fjord will find it funny when he tells him about it. 

The girl holds her cup with both hands to drink the milk, carefully looking at the colorful group around the table over the rim of the glass. Nott and Jester inform everyone of their adventures collecting books, and Jester delightedly reveals the number of small pranks she was able to pull. 

No one talks about the child. Fjord eats slowly with one hand, the other he has loosely around the girl so she can lean into him whenever she gets nervous. 

Maybe this is the Wildmother’s way of telling Caduceus that Fjord is in need of somewhere to put down roots. Or maybe that she’s approving of their choices as a group, and that good things are on the horizon. He’ll have to consider the many interpretations of this dream. Maybe this is the new tea blend he had before bed. It wouldn’t be the first time his tea gave him strange visions. 

Nott and Jester are able to win the girl over by the end of lunch. They entice her by telling her about Nugget the Dog that she’ll be able to meet when Luc and Yeza are done walking him, and Nott tells enough jokes that the girl finally cracks a smile. The two of them take it upon themselves to coax the girl away from Fjord, who assures her that she’ll be safe, and then they’re gone to wash up and Caduceus begins to think that this is a very elaborate and linear dream. He’s also getting bored with it. Can he wake up now? Domestics like this are not his cup of tea. 

Beauregard launches a piece of bread at Fjord as soon as the girl has been taken upstairs. It bounces off of his head and lands in his lap.

“Dude, what the fuck?” she announces. 

Fjord covers his face with his hands and bends so he’s almost laying on the table, “I don’t know!” he exclaims. 

Caleb picks at a piece of cheese, “I’m very curious as to what your thought process is here?”

Oh, Caduceus realizes. He’s not dreaming. Everyone else is just as confused as he is. They were just going along with things because they all thought Fjord had a plan. 

“She was in trouble, I acted, and now I don’t know,” Fjord says. He sits up and wipes his bangs back from his face, “I don’t know,” he repeats, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Just put it back where you found it,” Beau shrugs.

“She’s not an animal,” Caleb reasons. Beau opens her mouth to argue, but Caleb holds up a hand to cut her off, “I mean, she must have a home to go to, correct? She’s not some stray you’re releasing back into the wild.”

“It’s probably more like that,” Fjord informs them, “well, maybe she has family. But they’re not well off. Fuck, I didn’t even ask. I just assumed she was like me– trying to make things work, and not normal enough to go unnoticed.”

“You did a lot of fending for yourself?” Beau asks. She’s got a curious look, like she might be reassessing her ideas of Fjord. Then again, perhaps she’s storing away this information to be useful later.

“I told you before, I grew up in an orphanage not far from here,” Fjord shrugs, “it was somewhere to call home, to sleep. But they were always tight for funds, and unable to turn anyone away. So we were hungry a lot. When I was younger I didn’t understand how things worked, and the older kids taught me that stealing was a game. I wasn’t very good at it. And people aren’t kind to thiefs, especially when they look like me.”

“Your skills are a little rusty,” Beau jokes.

“Once I understood it was wrong, I stopped,” Fjord assures her, “I did odd jobs around town for food and such. Other kids continued the game, but it wasn’t for me.”

“Now we have this child,” Caleb hops in, “what do you intend to do with her?”

Fjord scrubs a hand down his face, “Find out if she has family, I guess.”

“There’s a high likelihood she doesn’t,” Beauregard says, “what then?”

Fjord shrugs, “Then… I don’t know. Find somewhere safe for her to be?” 

There’s a whine in his voice, now that Caduceus is listening for it. A higher pitch that Fjord gets when he feels he’s done something wrong and is expecting retribution for it. 

“It’s a good thing you’ve done here today,” Caduceus confirms, “stepping in like that.”

“Yeah it was pretty cool,” Beau agrees.

“But then bringing her here?” Fjord asks, and his eyes dart between the three of them still at the table, “maybe I should have just told her to run off. I don’t know what to do with a child!” 

“She seems quite fond of you,” Caleb adds, “you are probably her hero right now.”

“You’re a good person,” Beauregard teases, “finally someone’s knight in shining armor.”

A warm blush spreads across Fjord’s face at the compliments, and begins to crawl down his neck. He waves both humans off before they continue to tease him. 

“Why did you bring her here?” Caduceus asks curiously. 

Fjord clenches his jaw briefly, thinking, and then decides to add, “It felt like the only thing I could do. I knew she was in trouble before I even knew why, or who she was. It was… I don’t know. It all happened so fast. And then I had my sword at a mans throat!” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’m so stupid. That could have gotten us arrested.”

Caduceus feels a warm touch on the back of his neck, like a soft sigh of affection. Maybe amusement. It’s like this has all been setting up for it, and now Caduceus is in on the joke. It’s the same wind he felt earlier. The one that pulled Fjord away from them.  

“I’ve got a better story,” Caduceus offers. Fjord looks up at him, curious, but with trust in his eyes. There’s a small flower, bright and beautiful, tucked behind his ear. He hasn’t noticed it yet. In fact, no one has seen it until Caduceus was told where to look. Caduceus thinks about pointing it out, but also thinks Fjord will enjoy discovering it later, and coming to realize who put it there. 

Once upon a time Caduceus told Fjord that he would be the answer to someone’s cry for help. That he would be the hero they need. Just as the Wildmother took him in to be her champion, and to protect those in her care. 

Caduceus doesn’t mention the flower. He also has a feeling that there may be more children showing up in the future. Maybe he should start asking around about orphanages in the area. 

“I think you might have found your calling.”

Caduceus wakes early in the morning to Fjord getting dressed. He’s trying to be discreet, but Caduceus has always been a light sleeper. 

“Sorry,” the man says softly, “I couldn’t sleep.”

He’s putting on his leathers and getting dressed like he has somewhere to be. Caduceus wonders if he’ll check in on the girl first, or if he’ll hover anxiously downstairs until she wakes up. 

“‘S alright,” Caduceus drawls, and yawns widely. There’s a sweet smell in the air, faint, like flowers after rain. 

Fjord finishes tugging his boots on and gets up to leave. He pauses at the door.

“Caduceus?” he says softly, and he pauses to listen if Caduceus will reply. 

“Hm?” Caduceus grunts, and he sits up to rub some sleep out of his eyes. 

“I…” Fjord lets out a slow breath, “I had a dream. Last night.”

“Was it a good dream or a bad dream?” Caduceus wonders. He’s been curious if the proximity to the water would bring back Fjord’s night terrors. Maybe they have, Fjord hasn’t mentioned them, but then again Fjord always suffered them silently. He seems healthy enough— no strange morning sickness or mysterious injuries from being hunted by a caged god. 

“I’m not sure,” Fjord admits, and then adds, “I think it was the Wildmother. I don’t— sorry, I know it was her. I just… it was different. She’s spoken to me before, I’m familiar with her, but this time…”

Ah. Caduceus thinks he can see it now. Fjord came to the Wildmother traumatised and abused by his patron and skittish of divine attention even while he longed for it. Caduceus has seen how she’s been gentle with him, letting him settle and come to trust in her before she pushes. 

“She’s given you a task.” It’s not a question. Fjord turns away from the door to face Caduceus. 

“I think so,” Fjord says. He sounds a little dazed. He must have just woken up, then, and is full of energy. Possibly nervous, too. 

For all the strides he’s made, Fjord is still an intensely private person. Caduceus appreciates these moments where Fjord reaches out like this. 

“That’s wonderful. Can we help?” Caduceus asks. 

“I have to go to Port Damali,” Fjord announces. He sounds sure of that— that must be part of what he’s been asked. He softens slightly, shoulders relaxing, “I would like it if everyone joined me.”

“We’ll talk over breakfast,” Caduceus says, and just because Fjord needs these assurances, he adds, “I think everyone will be happy to join you.”

Fjord nods, once, and blinks a few times before he turns to leave.

“Thank you,” he says. 

The girl slept in Jester’s old room, enchanted by the drawings on the wall and the dress that Marion gave to her. She sits with them, brought downstairs by Jester and Beau. Cleaned and dressed like this, it’s easier to see her as both a child and a tragedy. Her cheeks are thin from starving, and her knuckles and knees marked up from a lifetime spent outdoors. Her hair has been braided back, but it’s rough and damaged from going unwashed for so long.

She’s quiet, almost meek. And in a way that’s charming. Caduceus doesn’t know what to make of her, or what they’re doing with her, but he thinks he can handle this. Children are just small adults, in the end. 

They give her some warm milk and jam and toast, and that’s where her meekness ends. She eats with surprising ferocity, like she’s afraid that they’ll take it away if she’s too slow. 

Caduceus realizes with a small stab of sorrow that that might be the truth of her life. That if she doesn't eat quickly, she might not eat at all. 

It reminds Caduceus of how Fjord eats— he’s lost the intensity, but now that Caduceus sees similarities, he recognizes how Fjord leans protectively over his food, and tries to eat everything in a rush rather than eat and converse. 

Before anyone has to start asking questions, or taking charge of the situation they’ve found themselves in, Fjord returns. 

At the sight of Fjord, the girl makes a noise so high pitched that all of Caduceus’ fur stands on end. He nearly drops his tea. She scrambles off the bench and throws herself at Fjord. He doesn’t seem alarmed by the small person jumping on to him, and kneels down to talk to her. 

Caduceus sets his cup down and flexes his fingers so his hands stop shaking from the fright the girls squeal gave him. Caleb looks unaffected, though Frumpkin, curled around Caleb’s neck, is about three times fluffier than normal, indicating that the wizard is not as calm as he appears. Yeza and Nott, on the other hand, appear entirely unphased and continue eating as if nothing has happened. 

Fjord offers the girl what he must have gone off to get— a warm bear claw pastry, that would have been baked fresh this morning— and that’s when he realizes the group is watching him. Now, strangely, he gets self-conscious, and he looks everywhere but at the group as the girl brings him back to the table. She stays safely in his orbit, almost pressed against his side, once Fjord sits down. And then she goes back to eating.

Caduceus notes that she’s hidden the prized bear claw in her lap, out of sight below the table. 

“So, Captain,” Beauregard asks, “what’s the plan?”

Fjord nods, like Beauregard has made an acceptable statement. He clears his throat. 

“I need to take her home,” Fjord says, and nods to the girl, “and, um.”

He pauses now, and Caduceus waits to hear if Fjord will share, or if Fjord will slip away at some quiet time later in the day. Caduceus will be able to wrangle everyone into going along, he’s quite certain, but it will be nicer if Fjord asks for the help in the first place. 

“I have to go to Port Damali,” Fjord says, and in a surprising turn of truthfulness, Fjord adds, “I have to go home.”

“Home?” Caduceus finds himself saying, surprised. He doesn’t like that word, not in the way that Fjord is using it. Why would Fjord go back to that orphanage that he talks so terribly about?

“What’s in Port Damali?” Jester asks. 

Caduceus feels like he’s in the same parallel world as yesterday when he thought the group had planned to kidnap a child. Because it feels evident to him that Fjord is speaking of the orphanage. Because why else would the Wildmother send him to Port Damali except to return to his roots?

Roots. That’s a good pun. 

It doesn’t distract from the way Caduceus dislikes Fjord calling that place ‘home’. Fjord’s made it clear that it was never a home to him, just the place he grew up. 

“The Driftwood Asylum,” Fjord says, confirming Caduceus’s assumptions. After a moment Caduceus realizes he probably knows this because he’s supposed to go with Fjord, and the Wildmother is just ensuring that Caduceus understands his role. 

Nott’s ears come up, and she blinks owlishly as she thinks, “Isn’t that where you—”

“Yes,” Fjord says, jaw tight. 

“Why do you have to go there?” Nott demands. 

Caduceus can see Fjord physically closing off. He wonders if Fjord knows he’s doing it, with how his body language shifts and he curls his shoulders inward. Protective. This won’t be a trip of pleasant memories. 

“I… I have to,” Fjord insists.

Caduceus isn’t sure why asking is so difficult for Fjord. Especially when this group makes it so easy. There are lessons to be learned here, yes, but today Caduceus can make things a little easier.

“You were called to it, you mean,” Caduceus comments.

All adult eyes at the table look at Caduceus, and then back to Fjord.

“The Wildmother?” Jester gasps, “she talked to you?”

“That’s your new god, right?” Beauregard checks. 

Fjord glances at Caduceus across the table, and he looks grateful. 

“Yeah,” Fjord says, “she wants me to go.”

“Well it’s more direction then we’ve had lately,” Caleb says, agreeable. 

“What are you supposed to do there?” Nott asks.

Fjord shrugs, “I’ll find out when I get there.” 

“Port Damali it is then,” Caduceus says, and finishes the last of his tea, “but first things first,” and he nods at the little girl tucked against Fjord’s side, “lets take her home.”

Children, Caduceus is learning, make very little sense. He has always assumed they could be spoken to, and reasoned with, like small adults with little world experience. A small bit of patience, and some sweets, and they are easily placated. 

Caduceus realizes he has not spent much time around children. Or perhaps the untamed youth of Nicodranas are unlike any child elsewhere in the world. 

Fjord and the girl talk quietly, away from the others where she feels safe confiding in the man. He learns where she lives, and that is how Caduceus finds himself tagging along with Fjord, the girl, and Nott and her husband and son, as they go to take the girl home. 

She and Luc are getting along, despite the fact that Luc is almost half her size and yet older than her. They dart ahead, in some form of chase, and then hop with both feet onto points on the road they deem special. There’s a lot of delighted giggling and laughter as they lead the way. 

They’re heading into the slums, that’s for certain. This is no longer the bright and lively marketplace. There are few merchants here, and where there are stalls set up, the products are less than desirable and of questionable origin. 

They come to a bridge over a dry canal. There’s a rusted sluice drain to the side. Caduceus takes one glance at it to see the tiny footprints in the mud that lead up to it. 

The girl pauses on the edge of the bridge, and shouts down into the canal. One-by-one, three more half-starved, filthy children crawl out. One of them, more human than the rest, is still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

“This is where they live?” Yeza gasps softly. 

Fjord’s gone still, looking down on the children as the girl scrambles down into the canal and the children come to greet her. She pulls the bear claw from where she’d hidden it in her clothes, and starts distributing it fairly. 

Luc tries to climb in after her, though Nott and Yeza rush to stop him. 

“No,” Fjord says, quietly. He sounds angry, “this can't be home. They're sleeping here, for now.” 

“Until this canal gets flooded,” Caduceus points out. But they’re children, and how could they possibly know they’re sleeping in a space that could drown them at any moment. Why would anyone let them stay here? Where are their caretakers?

A throat clears behind them. The group of them turn, Fjord’s hand curling around a sword hilt he’s a thought away from summoning, Nott reaching for her crossbow, Yeza holding Luc protectively, and Caduceus leaning on his staff. 

She’s an old woman, human, from the looks of her. Not well off by any means. She’s balding, and her remaining hair is scraggly. Her clothes are plain, and look like they’ve been mended several times over the years with less and less effectiveness. Her face is weathered into a deep scowl, like she’s disappointed with the world and has given up on niceties. She’s using a cane, and leaning on it heavily. 

“Who’re you?” she snaps. She’s got the drawl that Fjord once pretended to have, that Caduceus has come to learn marks some communities of the Menagerie coast. 

“Who are you?” Nott demands. 

“You zhelezo?” the woman demands, “I don't like strangers in my neighbourhood.” 

“Ma’am,” Fjord says, and it’s a special kind of magic he invokes every time Caduceus sees him lie and charm like this. It’s fascinating as it is alarming to see how effortless he makes it, switching to match her accent, “we are here seeking to return a child we encountered yesterday who was in great peril.” 

Caduceus is awed by Fjord’s easy deceptions, but he also wonders if the truth would have been just as effective. 

The woman scowls at Fjord, and takes in his armor. With all their travels and battles, they all dress like people prepared to fight. It’s hard to pass for meek and mild these days, even for Caduceus. 

“There’s no children ‘round here,” the woman says, and spits on the ground, “now y’all better get goin.”

Before Fjord has time to respond to the obvious lie, the gaggle of children have climbed out of the canal and make their way towards the woman. They are familiar with her, judging by the sound of their excited voices. She’s carrying a basket of leftover bread.

"Gamgam!" one boy calls excitedly.

Ah, Caduceus understands. 

The woman, Gamgam, notices the girl’s new dress. 

“What kind of trouble did y’get yourself into now?” she demands of the girl. 

The girl bows her head, and then points at Fjord.

“He’s a knight,” she says, just to the woman but for the first time Caduceus is interested enough to listen in on her words, “he protected me.”

“You can’t trust just any stranger that saves ya,” the woman says. Rather than heat in her scolding, Caduceus can tell she’s relieved. 

“We came here to bring her home,” Fjord says, “are you their caretaker?”

“I’m just an old woman,” she scoffs as she hands what little food she has to the children, “never wanted kids, never had them.” 

“Do they live here?” Fjord asks.

“Everybody lives here,” she says dismissively.

Fjord sighs loudly, “Is there somewhere private we could talk, perhaps about the children?”

“About what?” the woman demands, “these kids ain’t mine. I ain’t responsible for them.”

“Why aren’t they in a home?” Yeza speaks up, “you’re clearly feeding them, so they must have been here for some time!”

The woman looks furious to have her charity pointed out. 

“There’s no home for children here, not anymore,” she says firmly, “unwanted children cause problems. They steal. They get into places they shouldn't. They break things. They drain resources and homes take up property that could be rented out to paying families. Better to keep them out of the city, or hand them over to the zhelezo to get worked to death. But I’m an old woman, and I can’t take kids on a trip to Port Damali whenever I find them.” 

Caduceus feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He’s not looking at Yeza or Nott, as they’re standing behind him, but he knows that all of them are staring at Fjord now. 

There are no coincidences, Caduceus reminds himself. 

“Ma’am,” Fjord says, and his voice cracks a little on the syllable. From his vantage point, Caduceus sees a bright wildflower that has found its way behind Fjord’s ear again, “why would the children need to go to Port Damali?”

“So, let me get this straight,” Beauregard says calmly. Fjord nods to let her continue. They've returned to the Chateau and are getting their horses and cart packed for travel. 

“You save a little girl from getting her ass kicked, great. You bring her home, give her some food, and then take her back to her home the next day.”

“Yes,” Fjord says. 

“And while taking her home, to leave her there, you decide to do the complete opposite. Except, instead of just bringing one, you went and got yourself the whole damn collection?” 

Fjord looks down at his shoes like he’s accepting the scolding, but Caduceus already knows that Fjord won’t relent on this. 

“It seems very counterintuitive,” Caleb agrees. He’s keeping a wide berth between himself and the children, and thinks that no one has noticed. It helps that they’re either playing with Luc, or hanging off of Fjord. The girl has taken her place at Fjord’s side, and for the first time since they’ve met her, is brazenly glaring up at Beau while Fjord lets her finish venting. 

“You don’t understand, the timing of it all is astounding,” Nott says, “Fjord has to go to Port Damali. Gamgam says that she wants these kids to go to Port Damali. It all lines up.”

“I just feel like a big city would have more access to an orphanage than Port Damali,” Beau argues. 

“They do,” Fjord agrees, still civil and not at all apologetic. Caduceus now counts three flowers that have magically appeared on Fjord’s person— one is even in his hair, “but it sounds like the version of a home in Nicodranas is more of a labour camp. Where the children work to be given somewhere to sleep and be fed.”

Beau grimaces, and shrugs, “Maybe it builds character?”

“It’s how the Coast is doing operations now,” Fjord says, almost monotone as he repeats what they’d been informed of just this morning, “the Driftwood Asylum is one of the last that doesn’t use children for manual labour.”

“We have the locations of all the camps,” Yeza adds. He’s scowling, and hasn’t stopped since the old woman, Gamgam, as the kids knew her, informed them of why she wanted the children to go unnoticed by the zhelezo.

“I feel like raiding coal mines or rice fields or whatever to kidnap children and home them elsewhere is a bad idea,” Caleb insists, and he nearly flings Frumpkin off of his shoulders as the group of children get too close to him. They’re distracted by the cat, and chase it away from Caleb.

Caleb continues speaking without acknowledging his dramatic evasion, “it is sad, yes, but that seems a little brazen to go charging into this just because Fjord has decided to adopt every child he comes across.” 

“It's not every child,” Fjord pleads, but it falls on deaf ears.

For all that they are upset with him, Caduceus thinks Fjord has shown considerable restraint. There are only five children present. That’s manageable enough.

Luc does something in their game that delights two of the children, and they shriek in delight. Caduceus barely suppresses his grimace as his hair stands on end again. 

Hopefully travel to Port Damali is fast and quiet.

Travel to Port Damali is not fast. Nor is it quiet. They intend to take a ship, to move faster, but Fjord feels strongly that he shouldn’t be on the water. For now they all assume it is because of Uk’otoa and the cloven crystal Fjord still carries within him. Politely they all ignore the fact that there is an evil demi-god one Fjord away from being free to unleash terror on the world.

They will later find out that this isn’t why Fjord was directed away from a boat. 

Fjord joins Caduceus on the cart on their first day, as they leave Nicodranas behind. The children find this all very exciting, and have been making preparations as to who will do the fighting, and who will do the hiding, when they encounter a dragon. They have yet to be informed that the Mighty Nein has actually encountered a dragon before. Caduceus dreads the excited squealing that information will bring. 

“You joined us because you felt the Wildmother called you to it,” Fjord says as means of an icebreaker. 

“Yes,” Caduceus agrees, “I was waiting for a sign, and I thought you all were as good a sign as I’d ever get.”

“But was it really your choice to go?” Fjord asks. He’s wringing his hands uncomfortably.

“We always have a choice,” Caduceus says, and thinks on Fjord’s words a moment longer, “do you… do you feel like you don’t have a choice?”

“Yes…” Fjord trails off, and glances out at the ocean to their left. It’s a majestic view, even though the road is several miles inland, “I’ve always had a choice, when it comes to divine wishes but I… I’m used to goals. To knowing what’s expected of me.”

“Well if you had all the answers, why go on the journey?” Caduceus reasons, “I think part of the reason she’s asking this of you is because you need to be the one going.”

Caduceus pauses a moment to look over at Fjord, “By the way, what is it she’s asking of you?”

“To go back,” Fjord says, “and… maybe it’s that I need to bring these children safely to the Asylum. I don’t know much more than that.” 

He looks troubled by the uncertainty. Fjord has never done well with grey areas— that’s how they ended up breaking the seals on Uk’otoa’s cage after all.

“That sounds like a wonderful calling,” Caduceus says. Fjord doesn’t seem calmed by the assurance. 

“What does she... “ Fjord trails of and looks away, “nevermind.”

“What?” Caduceus presses. 

“You wouldn’t know. You’ve never let her down,” Fjord dismisses him with a wave of his hand.

“Oh, oh,” Caduceus scolds him with his tone alone, “don’t put me on some pedestal. I’m not perfect, not by any means. To fail is… well, that’s normal. That’s what we do. That’s why we have to keep trying, and learning from our mistakes.”

“Would she send me off on a strange path if she knew I would let her down?” Fjord asks. His shoulders are tight. 

“I think it’s cruel to set someone up to fail. But I also think there’s valuable lessons in trying.”

“This is the first time she’s asked anything of me,” Fjord says softly, “I want to do it right. I owe her that much.”

“She knows exactly what you’re capable of,” Caduceus assures Fjord, “you’re exactly who she wants for this.”

Fjord doesn’t give him a reply, and so they continue on in silence. Well, not total silence. The children are still working on their plans, and keeping eyes on the sky for potential dragon attacks. Not that there’s been a dragon in the Menagerie Coast for years, but for children who have never left the city until today? They’ll be expecting fantastical events around every corner. 

The little girl that Fjord first saved is convinced that a dragon will come to eat her up. Rather than scared by this concept, she seems genuinely delighted. It’s charmingly morbid, though Caduceus wonders who she expects to fight the dragon. 

He recalls her telling Gamgam that Fjord was a knight, and Caduceus wonders if Fjord knows he’s someone’s hero.

Fjord talks again, a few hours later after the children have been thoroughly impressed by Beau and Jester’s recounting of their dragon encounter, and Fjord showed off his magical sword that was made from dragon breath. The children were so delighted and astounded at the snowflakes the sword leaves in it’s dismissal that Fjord entertained them for some time by summoning and dismissing his sword just for the theatrics. 

The children grow bored of the meandering roads, and eventually some of them start napping in the shaded part of the cart, while others gaze wistfully out at the ocean. Even the rest of the party, on horseback, has fallen silent. 

“Do you think she… would she be mad?” Fjord asks quietly. 

“Pardon?” Caduceus barely hears him, and turns to face him.

Fjord is picking at his tusks— a nervous tick that Caduceus hasn’t seen in a while— and staring ahead rather than at Caduceus.

“If I let her down,” Fjord says again, and takes a deep breath, “would she be mad? She’s done so much for me, and I just want to do right.” 

He sounds surprisingly young, and dramatic, to Caduceus. Didn’t they already talk about how people can fail and try again, and that Caduceus thinks Fjord was chosen on purpose? Because the Wildmother must know Fjord is the right man for this? Why is he so upset?

Caduceus feels a little frustrated that Fjord isn't hearing him, “So let’s pretend the worst does happen. We turn this cart around and go back to the Empire. Or Xhorhas. And we never go to Port Damali for the rest of our lives. We never do what the Wildmother has asked of you. What do you think she’d do?”

Fjord tenses, jaw clenched, “Abandon me,” he spits out, and he looks at Caduceus now, “or give me back.”

And he’s not actually looking at Caduceus. He’s looking past him, out over the water. 

Fjord’s seeing the god that held his soul for ransom, that coerced him down a dark path, and then tormented him when Fjord refused it. Caduceus can still remember Fjord waking up, coughing up seawater after his god had literally killed him in his dreams. Then stripped him of his powers, to make Fjord come crawling back like a dog. 

If that’s Fjord’s experience with divine tasks, with divine leadership, then Caduceus figures he can forgive Fjord for needing the extra assurance. 

Caduceus lets out a soft sigh to release his frustration. Speaking in anger has always gotten him into trouble. He should know better by now. 

“She won’t do that,” Caduceus says firmly, “as long as you’re with her, she will be with you.”

“Are you sure?” Fjord asks softly. 

“Yes,” Caduceus promises. He’s speaking for the Wildmother here, but this is a truth as reliable as the changing of the seasons.

There’s plenty of small towns on the road to stop in for the night. Maybe it’s the warmth that lingers even as the sun goes down, maybe it’s the thought of trying to corral this many people into a few rooms, or maybe it’s the easy confidence of a large group and laughing children, but they decide to camp on the side of the road for the night. 

Caduceus is gently urging the cart along, with Fjord lounging beside him. It’s getting dark enough that Caduceus finds it hard to see, but he trusts the horses to keep them on the trail while Fjord and Beau look around for a good spot to make camp. 

The little girl, the first kid they took on, has come to sit between the two of them. She’s curious about everything— but only if Fjord answers her questions. Caduceus is mildly relieved to not be the focus of her attention. 

“It’s dark,” he hears her say to Fjord. 

Fjord makes a noise of acknowledgement, “We’ll probably be able to see the stars tonight without the city lights. Do you know how to read the constellations?” 

Caduceus can see her shake her head no. 

He can also hear Fjord swallow loudly before saying, “I—I’ll teach you. It’s a good way to always know which way you’re travelling— Caduceus hold up.” 

Caduceus pulls the horses to a halt.

His warning comes just as Beauregard rides up beside them. She’s wearing her goggles so her eyes are covered, but her mouth is in a tight frown. Which is different from her usual scowl. 

“You see that?” Beauregard asks.

“I do,” Fjord says, and sits up straight. 

“What?” Caduceus asks. He can hear Nott and Caleb talking somewhere behind them. 

“Nott thinks she saw someone watching us from the trees a way back,” Beau says. 

“And now she tells us?” Fjord asks. 

Beau shrugs, “She was drinking.”

“What’s up ahead?” Caduceus asks. 

“A man without a horse,” Fjord says, “he’s waving.”

“And that’s suspicious?” Caduceus wonders. 

“Doesn’t have a torch with him,” Beau says, “sneaky bastard.”

“Maybe he’s trying to avoid detection?” Caduceus offers, though the hair on the back of his neck is tingling. Have they walked into a trap?

“He’s in armor. Likely a sellsword. We’re probably surrounded,” Fjord says, and looks around. The land here is forested to their right, rocky to their left. It’s a great place for an ambush. 

“Fuck,” Fjord mutters, and looks up at Beau, “should you say hi or should I?”

Beauregard groans loudly, “You go do it. If I see any shady shit, I’ll run in and save you.”

“You’re already on a horse,” Fjord protests. 

“It’s your road trip,” Beau argues, “and I don’t want to talk to assholes today.” 

The little girl makes a small worried noise. Fjord immediately looks down to her. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Fjord promises, “I’ll be right back. Caduceus is right here if you get scared.” 

Caduceus feels a chill down his spine as Fjord names him the New Protector of the child. She looks up to him with her big eyes, and clearly sizes him up compared to Fjord. Caduceus didn’t hold his sword to a mans throat to protect her, so he comes up short. 

Fjord trades places with Beau and rides into the dark. Caduceus keeps his eyes trained on him, and is able to follow the vague shape of him in the shadows. Caduceus thinks he can almost make out the distant shape of another man, but he can’t be sure. 

Beau perches on the wagon behind Caduceus and the little girl in a half-crouch, and there’s a clamoring of small footsteps as Nott hops into the wagon as well.

“Alright kids, heads down,” she instructs. 

The days exposure, and maybe just because of how dark it is, must have eased their aversion to Nott’s goblin form, because the kids comply and Nott hides away with them. 

The little girls small hand touches Caduceus’ arm as Fjord leaves their sight. 

“He’ll be alright,” Caduceus says, “Mr. Fjord is very persuasive.” 

Beau chuckles behind them, “Don’t worry, kid. I’m also a total badass.”

Caduceus trains his senses forwards to try and listen in on what’s being said. He only barely notices the quick shape of Frumpkin darting ahead. 

Caleb’s soft, almost disembodied, voice begins narrating from behind them. 

“The man is being friendly… asking where we are going. Fjord is also being friendly. The man is now asking about the children and where we are taking them. Says children are worth a lot of money these days. We are wasting our time taking them to Port Damali. Fjord is asking if the man knows what happens to kids he sells to the state. The man thinks it is ‘character building’. He, ah…. oh. The man is collecting many kids. I think he already has some he is transporting back to Nicodranas. Fjord does not like that—” 

Caleb’s narration is cut off by a radiant, blue-white light that flashes in the dark several yards ahead. It’s Dwueth'var, summoned forth by Fjord. His armor glows with the same radiant light, and for a moment Caduceus is struck by how magnificent he looks, shining and imposing on top of the horse. He really does look like a champion of light. 

Caduceus has enough time to think that before the rest of the bandits leap out and attack them. 

The find six more kids at the bandits’ camp nearby. They’re locked in cages and range from very young to nearly adolescent. With their new additions to the party, the group searches the bandits camp for extra resources, and decide to stay there for the night. They sleep in watches, splitting up children between the tents formerly used by the bandits as Caleb’s tiny hut spell won’t fit all of them. The first girl, and a new, very young boy who won’t stop sucking his thumb, demand to stay near Fjord and so Caduceus and Fjord wind up sharing their tent. It occurs to Caduceus that he hasn't been given the pleasantry of learning the girls name, as she seems to only want to speak to Fjord and has no interest in anyone else. Caduceus wonders if he's exceeded the acceptable amount of time to spend with someone before it's rude to ask their name. Caduceus also finds it strange to try and sleep with small bodies kicking and wiggling around in the dark, but he manages. 

Only to wake up not too long later, when another small person crawls in and steps on him.

“What?” Caduceus mumbles, “what— what’s wrong?”

The kid— one of the new ones? Old ones? All small things look alike in the dark. Maybe it’s Nott. Caduceus is tired. The kid hesitates, quiet and nervous.

“Mr. Fjord?” the kid whispers.

Fjord grunts awake, “Hey?” he rasps. Caduceus wonders how he even woke up when they weren’t making that much noise in the first place. 

The kid flinches, like Fjord might yell at him, and then says in a tiny voice, “what if the bad guys come back?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Fjord mumbles. His voice is rough with sleep. 

Fjord pats the space beside him, where the little girl, and another kid, have cozied up to Fjord already. Wait… there’s three kids. When did the third one get here? 

Caduceus squints sleepily while the newest new kid finds somewhere to fit. He ends up stepping on Caduceus again. By the time they’re getting settled— it’s only one night, Caduceus tells himself. They’ll get proper rooms tomorrow. But just as they’re getting settled, and Fjord begins to snore again, the tent door opens. 

Now there’s two scared kids peering in. 

“This is getting ridiculous,” Caduceus grumbles. He waves the kids in, and, in what he thinks is a very generous act, Caduceus takes his cloak and goes to sleep on the cart. Jester and Beauregard, sitting out on watch, burst into laughter as they see Caduceus relocate himself. 

By morning every single child has made their way into Fjord’s tent. Caduceus wakes up with a stiff neck.

Fjord catches Caduceus in the morning. Most of the kids are still sleeping, Fjord hasn’t even put on all of his armor, and Caleb and Nott have only started putting the fire together. 

“Good morning,” Fjord greets, and then tries to make a joke, “it got a little cramped in there last night, yeah?” 

Caduceus thinks bitterly about small feet and how they feel like daggers, but just nods in agreement. He has to turn his shoulders to face Fjord because he can’t turn his head to the left. 

Fjord must sense his impatience, “I need to speak to the Wildmother— uh, like, a meditation. Or commune with her. I just… I woke up, and there were children everywhere, and I realized that I have no idea what I’m doing. Is this what she wants? Or is my quest to go to the Asylum, and the children are happenstance? I don’t know.”

“Take all the time you need,” Caduceus says, giving permission, “I don’t think we’ll be packing up to go right away.” 

“I—I wanted your help,” Fjord admits.

“You don’t need me, you know she listens to you,” Caduceus says, though he feels proud. 

“Yes,” Fjord agrees, “but it’s always been easier with you there.” 

Ah, well. Now Caduceus is going to blush. 

“Well it can’t hurt to try,” Caduceus says, and nods away from camp. There’s a nice spot of sunshine where they can look out over the sunrise on the ocean. 

The two of them take a seat on the grass. It feels a little damp, but the warming dawn light counters it. Caduceus folds into a meditative pose naturally, and he notices Fjord pushing and pulling at his own legs to try and mimic the pose. 

“Alright, so we’re going to breathe in with the dawn, and exhale with the tide.”

Fjord is watching him intently, and nodding as Caduceus explains. 

“She’ll be here. The goal is to clear your mind, and open yourself up to hear her.” 

Cadcueus closes his eyes, and feels the air on his skin, the sun in his face. He can picture the soft light like it’s an embrace, welcoming him into a new day. It smells earthy here, with salt from the ocean. Everything is so alive, and in balance. 

The air changes, and Caduceus can feel the sweet, warm wind that represents the Wildmother. He sinks into it, can feel it in his bones. It’s like coming home. 

Caduceus had no intention of coming to her directly today, so he offers a wordless thank-you for everything she is, and in his thoughts, he directs her to Fjord. Caduceus can feel the amusement that she has in Fjord using Caduceus like a safety net. Caduceus thinks it’s amusing too. It’s a little joke the two of them share, him and the Wildmother. 

Something knocks Caduceus in the shoulder, and he’s startled out of his meditation. There’s loud voices right in his ear, and he flinches away. 

The first girl, and the new baby boy, have thrown themselves into Fjord’s lap. It nearly knocks him over to catch them. 

“One of the boys said you were gonna eat us and I said that wasn’t true!” the girl is shouting. She’s upset to the point of tears. 

Fjord almost laughs at the idea, “No, no of course not. Caduceus is going to make us breakfast.” 

“I told him!” the girl pleads, “I told him and he wouldn’t listen! You have to tell him!” 

“Okay,” Fjord says placatingly. The younger boy has pressed himself to Fjord’s chest so Fjord is forced to hold him, while the girl has her small hands on Fjord’s shoulder. She looks like she might try to drag Fjord back to camp herself. 

Fjord pushes himself up to his feet while still holding the boy. The girl takes hold of his free hand and starts tugging him where she needs to lead him. 

“Sorry you got interrupted,” Caduceus offers, “we can try again tonight.”

“Oh, no,” Fjord almost laughs as he looks at the kids. “This is the message I needed.”

They break for lunch and the children disperse like a swarm of locusts. Every single member of the Mighty Nein gets their own personal shadow, and Caduceus notices several methods of escaping them. Caleb has learned that Frumpkin is an efficient distraction, and immediately sends his familiar to play at the children's feet while the wizard moves quickly in the opposite direction. Beauregard kindly tells them to go eat some rocks while she helps Caduceus light a fire to cook a meal on. Nott, Jester and Fjord don’t mind the attention, and find ways to invite the children to help them set up a temporary camp. 

Caduceus doesn’t attract any followers himself. He must be too boring for childish attention. That, and, he hasn’t spoken to them much. Most of the kids shy away when he looks at them too long. He’s only side-eyeing them because his neck is still cramped from sleeping in the cart. 

“Kids,” Beau scoffs. Frumpkin has attracted most of the kids now, at least the ones who aren’t being entertained by Nott or Jester. Caleb comes around the far side of the cart, slinks up to the fire and crouches down like he’s hiding from view. 

“What’s going on with you?” Caduceus asks. Beauregard takes one look at Caleb’s nervous face and laughs. 

“Children are lovely,” Caleb says in that quick way he does when he’s thinking too fast for proper conversation, “but they are also very, very loud. And like putting their tiny hands into everything.”

“So does Nott,” Beau shrugs. 

“Also I am just… I am not good with children,” Caleb admits, “not when there is a— a small army of them.” 

“They’re so small,” Beau confesses, almost like she’s realizing this for the first time, “it’s scary!”

“Ja!” Caleb echoes her revelation. 

“They’re small now, but they’ll grow,” Caduceus says fondly. 

Both humans regard him with scrutinizing looks. 

“You aren’t really a fan of kids either,” Beau says. It’s not a question. 

“I think they’re wonderful,” Caduceus says tactfully. 

Beau scoffs and knocks shoulders with Caleb, “That means he can’t stand ‘em. Did you know they forced Cad out of his tent last night?”

Caleb doesn’t look interested by the information, but he’s clearly picked up on Beauregard’s mischievous streak and so he gets hammy as he gasps loudly, “What? How could the small, tiny beings have such a disastrous effect? Don’t you think they are vonderful? Why would you flee from them?”

“They were stepping on me,” Caduceus mumbles, but it’s a poor defense. 

“It doesn’t mean you're a bad person,” Beauregard shrugs, “some people just aren’t good with kids.” 

“Some of us seem to be ready to adopt every child in sight,” Caleb leaps topics bluntly. 

“Has he said anything?” Beau asks Caduceus, “like, other than ‘the Wildmother said to become a nanny’?”

Caduceus shakes his head, “He’s been called to go to Port Damali. These children also needed passage to Port Damali. I don’t know if they’re directly linked, but I don’t believe in coincidences.” 

“Fjord has never expressed any fondness for kids,” Caleb remarks.

“He picked Kiri up by her foot— wasn’t he the one who gave her the dagger?” Beau tries to remember, “like— don’t get me wrong, what he’s doing is good— but, like, shouldn’t someone who knows how to handle kids be, you know, spearheading this ‘save the orphans’ charge?”

“I think he’s doing excellent,” Caduceus says. It comes across as a bit too defensive, and he sees Beauregard shift her stance in response. 

“It just happened really fast,” Beau says with a shrug, “and if this is just accidental baggage, then I wonder what’s waiting for us in Port Damali, you know?”

“What do we know about this Driftwood Asylum?” Caleb asks. 

“It’s where Fjord grew up. He hated it. He said he went hungry, and that it was overcrowded. They gave him some random surname that he hates,” Beau counts off her points on her fingers, and when she’s reached the end she shrugs again, “oh, and also apparently it’s the only place on the coast that hasn’t bought into the child labour thing.”

“So instead of letting the kids go to fully funded and supported situations where the government— or whatever acts like it— of the Menagerie Coast has decided children should go to, we are taking them to where a member of our own party has personally accounted that it is a terrible, horrible and traumatizing place? This is correct?” Caleb glances between the two of them.

“We’re not sending the kids to labour camp, what the fuck dude?” Beau scowls at him. 

“I do not think they sound like a good choice— they are almost definitely not good. I just want to look at our options,” Caleb protests. 

"What were the Cobalt Soul like?" Caduceus wonders out loud, "training must have been difficult. Was it different than working for a living?"

Beauregard's face twists into a sourer scowl. 

"We had a purpose. And you could definitely fail out," she growls, "but it was different. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe the Cobalt Soul is the Empires version of dealing with unwanted kids."

Caduceus didn't mean to send her on that thought path.  

Caleb nudges her shoulder gently with his own, "we did not have conventional upbringings, my friend. This is why we are not good with the small ones."

Beauregard snorts, and nods in agreement. The conversation is cut off when there's a loud shout behind them, as two of the boys have started playfighting and are slapping at each other's hands and pushing each other. It seems to have escalated quickly, and they go from laughing to angrily yelling in seconds.

"Oh dear," Caduceus says. 

"You should do something," Caleb says to Beauregard, and makes no effort to move. 

"Fuck you," Beau groans, and gets to her feet.

One boy, older, punches the other in the stomach. The smaller one doubles over, crying loudly, and then tackles the older boy onto the ground.

"Hey!" Beau shouts, and rushes in to pull them apart. She and Fjord, from across the camp, reach them at the same time. 

"There's no need for fighting," Fjord says to the boy he grabs, just as Beauregard says to the other,

"If you're going to fight someone, learn to finish it!" 

When they load up after lunch— which took longer to clean up all of the messy faces and fingers— Fjord and Caleb swap places so that Caleb and Nott can ride on the cart, while Fjord takes a horse. Caleb positions himself at the front of the cart, riding beside Caduceus and as far from the children as possible. He sacrifices Frumpkin immediately and has the cat sprawl in the middle of the cart so the children can rub the cat’s soft belly.

The little girl throws a fit at Fjord not riding on the cart. He tries to placate her as best he can, and then she starts crying. 

Caduceus sees Frumpkin's fur puff to twice his normal size as he presses his own ears tight to his skull. Children are loud.

"Why can't she ride with you?" Caduceus finally offers. He has to twist at the waist to talk to Fjord, still unable to work out the kink in his neck that keeps him from being able to turn his head. 

"It's a— a long time to ride. And it's safer on the cart," Fjord sputters. 

"Nott is capable of riding a horse," Caleb says, "perhaps the young lady is hardier than she appears." 

Fjord huffs a sigh and crouches down to talk to the girl face-to-face, "Riding a horse is different than being on a cart. Once you're on we won't be stopping for a few hours, and you have to sit still. If you fall off you can get hurt. Do you understand?"

Caduceus doesn't see the point in worrying about a horse. The children are in just as much danger from falling off the cart. But he doesn't bring that up. He's been informed that his commentary on the many ways people can and do die is "morbid and depressing". 

The girl nods, lower lip jutted forwards in a determined pout. Her face is still flushed from crying. 

"Alright," Fjord says, and he visibly softens as he accepts her choice, "come here, Melora."

And it feels like a record has skipped in Caduceus's mind. The girl, the one that started this all, that called Fjord in to protect her and kicked off this quest, this little girl hasn't had a name until now, to anyone but Fjord, and her name is? That name?

She giggles loudly as Fjord hefts her up onto his horse and she kicks her legs as she settles into the saddle.

On pure chance Fjord happens to glance over as Caduceus is staring at him, slack-jawed. And he breathes out a quick laugh at some joke Caduceus isn't in on. 

This is too wild to be a coincidence. Caduceus looks back to the little girl. He's barely aware that Caleb has picked up on his gaze and is attempting to figure out what has Caduceus so surprised. 

With nothing else to do but ponder, Caduceus takes the reins and gently asks the horses to follow the trail. It's easier to let them set the pace so Caduceus can mull on his thoughts.

"You caught it too?" Fjord asks, pulling his horse up beside the cart. He has one hand on the reins, the other wrapped around the girl to hold her in place in front of him. She's leaning forwards to pet the horse’s neck and paying no attention to either of them.

"What's her name?" Caduceus asks again. 

"Melody," Fjord says, and Caduceus almost goes limp with relief. He doesn't know what he would have done if they'd somehow ended up with a physical avatar of Melora herself in their company.

"But it's… it sounds pretty close, right?" Fjord asks. 

"I definitely misheard," Caduceus agrees. There's a weird energy in him now. He doesn't know what to do with it. Is this child special? Is she the reason Fjord has to make this journey? 

"What's so special about a name?" Nott jumps in. 

"It…" and now Fjord looks embarrassed to admit it, "it sounds like Melora. The Wildmother."

"Oh," Caleb says, as if he hasn't been listening the whole time, "do you think this child is special?"

"Why would she be special? Because her name is similar?" Nott scoffs, " that means anyone could be special— a, a, Melanie, a Maleficent, Melly—"

"Melly?" Fjord snaps, "you really think someone out there is named—"

"You think a child is special because she shares like three letters with your gods name! Doesn't that seem crazy to you?" Nott shouts. 

"I never said that," Fjord insists. 

"It's true," Caleb adds agreeably, and then seems to notice he’s arguing against his goblin friend, so he adds on, “but you both are being weird about it.”

“We’re not weird. About this,” Caduceus grumbles.

"You're both weird," Nott informs Caduceus and Fjord, "please don’t make the kids weird too."

When they set up camp in the evening, Caduceus doesn’t bother setting out his sleep roll. Instead he gets Jester and Nott’s help in pitching two tents together to make a larger one. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Fjord insists.

“This way there will be enough room for all of you,” Caduceus explains. 

“And where will you sleep?” Fjord asks, “one more night in the cart might kill you.”

“I’ve slept in worse,” Caduceus assures Fjord. And he has. They all have. 

“We can make room,” Fjord says, “I’m sure some of the kids will be fine on their own tonight.”

“I doubt it,” Nott scoffs, “you are the mother hen and they are the chicks. Once you let a kid sleep in your bed that’s it! It’s over! You’ll never have a bed to yourself again.” 

“The more the merrier,” Fjord decides. Caduceus does not like the idea of getting stepped on every five minutes. He’s a large man, there’s lots of him to step on. 

Part of the new double-tent collapses, and Fjord and Nott get absorbed in arguing over how to set it up better. Caduceus leaves them be. 

“What are you doing?”

Caduceus pauses, and slowly rolls his eyes down to look at the source of the small voice. It’s her. The first girl. Melody. She’s cleaner than the other kids, though the braids they put into her hair are falling out and she’s gotten her new dress stained in several places. Her dark eyes are unnaturally bright by the fire, speaking to her non-human parentage. 

She looks like she’s about to aggressively make contact with him, whether he wants it or not. If Caduceus could turn his head past the knot in his neck, he would look for Fjord to help him. The girl never seems far from Fjord’s side, and he's much better at keeping her entertained. All Caduceus seems to do is disappoint her.

“I’m wafting,” Caduceus decides on as an answer. 

Her nose wrinkles as she takes in his words. It’s not appealing to her. 

“What does that mean?” she asks. 

“I’m smelling the stew to see if it’s ready or not,” Caduceus says. 

“Oh,” and she closes her eyes as she sniffs loudly, “I can’t smell it.”

“You need to— you have to use your hand,” Caduceus says, and waves his a little more openly to show her the movement.

“Okay,” she says, and mimics the action. 

And then she looks back at him, like she’s waiting. For what? Instructions? That’s all Caduceus has. 

“Is dinner ready yet?” a young man asks. He’s one of the older kids, and he takes a seat by the fire and looks up at Caduceus expectantly. 

Caduceus’ answer is cut off when two more kids sprint up behind the older one.

“Food?” one shouts, “is there food?”

“Wow! You're tall!” says the other.

“I’m starving!” the older boy groans. 

“We’re wafting,” Melody informs them, “use your hands!” 

Her boldness works on the newer two, and they nervously make similar arm movements though they have no idea what for.

“What the hell is that?” the older kid asks. 

“We’re finding out if the food is ready,” Melody says. She sounds like she’s lecturing. 

“No, you have to taste it to know,” the older kid says, and turns to Caduceus, “right, Mister? You taste it to know.”

Caduceus doesn’t know what’s happening. He’s trying to keep up with the conversation and it’s happening too fast and also going in circles. How does he stop it?

“No!” Melody shouts, scandalized, “that’s eating!”

“I want to eat!” says one of the other kids hopefully. 

"No eating!" Melody says with finality. She plants her hands on her hips like she's in some position to give orders, and hadn't arrived only seconds before everyone else.

This attitude strikes a nerve with the other kids, and they all start yelling. 

Caduceus debates, just for one wonderful moment, of running while they're distracted. He's being punished for thinking poorly of the children. 

All too soon Melody gets fed up with arguing with the others, and picks up a handful of dirt and hurls it at them. It narrowly avoids scattering into the open pot Caduceus is cooking in.

“Hey!” Caduceus shouts, just as the kids jump up and run away. He’s not sure if it was Melody’s aggression, or the fear that Caduceus might yell at them that made them scatter. Melody shouts after them, and then stomps around the edge of the fire territorially. 

Why is she staying so close? It’s almost like someone sent her to personally torment him. Is he being tested by the divine? 

That, or maybe it's less divine intervention and more likely that his travelling companions are pranksters. 

“Who sent you?” Caduceus realizes. 

Again, if he could turn his head, he would look for Beauregard or Caleb. Or maybe even Nott. He's surrounded by people who would love to put Caduceus in this kind of uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Mr. Fjord said I should help you make dinner," Melody announces. Having been given a task seems to give her the idea that she's very important. 

Caduceus would have never expected this kind of betrayal from Fjord. 

“It’s, uh, well, it’s almost finished,” Caduceus says, which is true. Melody’s face falls, and Caduceus remembers how quickly kids can go from happy to crying and he does not want any of the latter. 

“But you can help me stir,” he offers. 

She nods, and comes around the fire to stand closer to him. Caduceus is crouching down to stir the pot, but the pot itself is over her head from where Caduceus has it set over the fire. 

Caduceus could try and grab one of the stumps or rocks in the near vicinity for her to stand on. But with his neck, and back, sore from sleeping in the cart, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to move them. So, he opts for the next best thing.

“May I pick you up?” Caduceus asks. 

She frowns up at him a moment. 

“I don’t want you to burn yourself,” Caduceus explains, and then wonders, “have you cooked before? Do you know how?”

It seems to pain her to admit this, but she shakes her head. 

“Okay,” Caduceus says, and holds out a hand to her, “jump when I say so.” 

 It’s a move his mother had perfected between all of her children, having them jump up and scooping them up under the arm to hold them on the hip. Caduceus also got good at it with his younger siblings. 

Melody is heavier than he expected, but Caduceus knows she’s not heavy enough for someone her age— or what he thinks her age might be. He adjusts his grip so she’s sitting her weight on his hip, and uses his other hand the ladle to her. 

“Stew is the easiest to make. You just need water and vegetables. Some people add meat, but we’re not doing that today. And then you put in seasonings and stir until it’s all together. Can you stir it for me?” 

Her brows furrow with concentration, and she purses her lips as she leans forwards to jab the ladle into the pot. Caduceus has to hold her with both arms to keep her from tumbling to the ground. She arcs her arm too quickly, and sloshes a whole serving off the top and over the edge of the pot. The fire hisses and steams. 

“I did it,” she hisses delightedly. 

At her age Caduceus had been a great help in the kitchen. He knew better than to throw food everywhere. But he has to remember that she hasn’t had much, if any, of a domestic life. Caduceus feels a warm gratitude for the happiness he was afforded with his family. 

“Is it done now?” Melody asks. 

“It needs to cook a little longer. So that the vegetables are soft,” Caduceus explains.

She groans loudly, and kicks her legs in frustration. One heel clips dangerously close to his groin and Caduceus feels a grand appreciation for the patience his parents had for him when he was this age. 

“Let’s try again,” Caduceus offers, “we’re stirring some love into it so that everyone grows healthy and strong.” 

Melody considers the words, and then wonders, “What if I spit in it?” 

“Please don’t?” Caduceus asks. 

“Or we could make everyone eat worms,” Melody says, and then giggles at the idea of it. 

Caduceus decides he’s going to be keeping a very close eye on her for the rest of the trip. It just so happens that this is when Fjord joins them. He’s carrying the small thumb-sucking boy braced against his chest, in the crook of his arm. The boy looks like he’s been crying, as his face is red and his eyes are still watery. 

“See,” Fjord says to the boy, “dinner is almost ready. We’re going to eat very soon.”

Fjord peeks down at the pot, and then up to Caduceus, “What are we having tonight?”

“Worms!” Melody shouts, and throws her head back as she cackles. 

The boy starts crying again. 

“Shit,” Fjord says, and shoots Caduceus a worried look. 

“Almost done,” Caduceus says.

Fjord nods, and turns away to bounce the boy in his arms, “We’re not eating worms,” he consoles the boy, “she’s just teasing!” 

They get the kids put to bed. Caduceus intends to sleep out under the stars, but Fjord insists he doesn’t have to. 

Most of the kids are tired from the day, and drift off quickly after dinner. The older ones try to stay awake. Caduceus notices that most of them watch Fjord and try to square their shoulders when he’s near them, as if they want to look as big as he is, or that they trail curiously after Beau and are enamoured with her post-dinner exercises. 

Jester and Fjord eventually lure the children to bed with promises of stories. Caduceus is concerned that someone small might mistake his bed for theirs, and so he follows along to keep his space clear. 

Jester starts off telling ridiculous things, with Fjord chiming in, but once she starts getting Fjord to voice the different characters she creates, that’s when the kids all start paying attention. Caduceus enjoys sitting back and watching this kind of magic. Fjord’s talent for mimicry and deception work wonders, and the little boy sitting in his lap is so stunned at one point that he forgets to suck on his thumb and stares up at Fjord with his mouth open. 

Melody scrambles over to Caduceus once Fjord announces that story time is over and it’s time for bed. Caduceus panics, wondering if she’s going to ask to sleep near him. 

“Are you going to cook in the morning?” she asks. 

“Yes,” he says nervously, wondering what the catch is going to be. 

“Can I help?”

Caduceus is surprise by the request, if not suspicious. He thought she didn’t like his cooking, because he said no to adding all of the gross ingredients she could think of.

Then again, she was never taught how to cook. Caduceus doesn’t even know if she knows who her parents were, or what her memories of a home life were. He’s struck by the notion that he has the chance to teach her skills and give her kind memories to look back on. 

“Of course,” he says, and then adds, “the early bird gets the worm, right?” 

Her eyes light up and she grins widely. Without another word she turns and runs back to her spot— beside Fjord’s roll— and steps on another kid as she does so. Despite her brash nature, she’s perfectly behaved as she helps Fjord tuck in the little boy, and then lets Fjord tuck her in too. 

It isn’t too long later that the rest of the party, by unspoken agreement, have gathered back around the fire sans children. 

“You were pretty good in there,” Beauregard comments to Fjord, “maybe you should think of a career change?”

Fjord flushes, “Oh, you, uh? Heard all that?”

“Why have you not been giving us the stories before bed?” Caleb asks, “they were riveting.” 

“Shut up,” Fjord says, but there’s no anger to his tone. 

“So we have, what? Another week at least? Until Port Damali” Nott asks. 

“Plenty of time to find more kids,” Jester teases.

Caduceus means to inform them that it is likely going to be longer than that, especially if they travel by land with the slow cart.

Fjord groans, and drags his hands down his face, “Yeah, shit. I, um, I’m sorry for dragging you all into this. If I’d known it was going to be like this, I wouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“And what?” Caduceus asks, “you would have managed all of this by yourself?”

Fjord looks at the ground, knowing he couldn’t have, “Well, it’s a lot to ask.”

“Hey,” Beauregard says, and leans over to give Fjord a soft jab to the shoulder. Despite her holding back, they all hear the impact, “we stick together, right? No going off alone.”
Fjord shrugs his shoulder, fighting the urge to rub the ache of where she hit him, “Yeah,” he says. 

“Besides,” Nott says, “most of them are cute.”

“There was a lot of crying today,” Beau says. 

“It was a long day,” Caleb reasons, “I think they did quite well.”

“Melody wasn’t crying,” Caduceus says, and glances at Fjord, “she was very happy with your assignment to help me.”

Fjord nods, “Yeah, sorry. I needed to distract her. The baby wouldn’t settle and, well, she’s…”

“Opinionated,” Caduceus offers.

“Yeah,” Fjord agrees, and huffs a soft laugh. It’s impossible to hide how fond he is of her. 

“I thought she was meek and mild,” Caduceus says. 

“She is shy,” Fjord says, “but I told her you were nice, and that you liked bugs.”

Beauregard mocks them with a drawn out ‘aww’. Fjord laughs her off. 

“That little girl adores you,” Caleb notes, “it will be hard to say goodbye.”

“We don’t have to talk about that now,” Jester insists. 

“But we are going to say goodbye,” Caleb says, and he sounds defensive, “these children need escort to Port Damali. We will take them to this orphanage, but then we must part with them, ya?” 

“Yeah,” Beauregard agrees with a shrug, “though I think I’m gonna start teaching them to fight. It feels bad to miss this opportunity to mould young minds, you know?” 

The conversation drifts, beginning to ask if they should be trying to teach any skills to the kids or if that’s setting them all up to be vagabonds and hooligans. Fjord participates, but it’s clear that his mind is elsewhere. Caduceus watches him in the firelight. 

The Wildmother called him to find the girl, to take the children and gather more on his trip. It feels clear that Fjord is to bring these children to safety. But that’s as far as Caduceus knows. What if there is more that’s been asked of Fjord? Or… what if Fjord feels a sense of duty here? These wayward, unwanted children might touch the memories he carries of being the same, and Fjord may be unable to resist the need to shelter them from the pains he endured. 

Maybe this is the Mighty Nein’s last adventure together. Maybe this is the end. 

Caduceus settles into bed. He sees Fjord carefully move Melody, who’s rolled into Fjord’s sleeping roll, so that he can lay down. As soon as Fjord has laid down, there’s shuffling as a few of the children try to move closer to him. 

Caduceus listens to the little breathes, the soft snores and occasional whimper of the children around them. And he tries not to feel resentful. All things come to an end, why is he angry about this one?

He still feels bitter in the morning.

The rest of the trip to Port Damali is both eventful and unremarkable. Nothing life changing happens— the sun rises and sets as it always does, and they move forwards every day. The children keep them entertained. Many small events happen over the days. They see bugs, butterflies and big clouds high in the sky. They dig and play and carry dirt under their nails for hours. 

Caduceus ponders on the concept of life-changing events being considered to be big events. He slept funny one night, his neck cramped, and that changed his life for a time, didn’t it? Perhaps he should re-evaluate his concept of life-changing events. For most people, they are actually small things that build up to something big. 

Small things that build up. Just like their gaggle of orphans. 

They’ve grown in number. What started as a small cart of kids, has grown into what feels like a small army. Fjord seems to have a sixth sense for children in distress, and leads the Mighty Nein into not one, but two raids on mercenary crews on their way to sell kids into bondage. It’s more than doubled the amount of kids they started with. They had to take on another cart from one of the mercenary crews they bested to manage everyone.

Yasha caught up to them shortly before the second raid. She was curious about the children, who were equally terrified and awestruck by her and her wings. Yasha was indispensable in clearing the second camp. Her cold rage took down twice as many mercenaries as anyone else in the group, and she ripped the locks off of every single cage she found with her bare hands. She drives the second cart. The children don’t seem to know what to make of her huge size and kind voice, so they remain at a stalemate where each side observes the other from afar. 

“I like kids,” Yasha says quietly to Caduceus one night, “but they don’t like me very much.”

“I’m sure you can win them over,” Caduceus assures her. 

That night, to the horror and delight of the children, Yasha eats a spider. For a brief time she supplants Fjord in terms of whom the children idolize more. 

Caduceus and Melody have taken up cooking duties. He wakes her up in the morning to help. Usually this means having to wake Fjord, as she makes her way into his arms every night. It has led to a nice morning routine for the three of them. While the fire heats up the water, Fjord and Caduceus have time to meditate together. Fjord is a slow learner, and has difficulty with patience, but his effort is appreciated. The Wildmother smiles on them both. Their meditations usually end when Melody returns with the worms she has dug up, and expects Fjord and Caduceus to loudly admire the size and wiggle-y-ness of them. 

Fjord is helpful in getting breakfast started. He’s good with peeling or cutting things up in his hand with a small knife. He used to practice wood carving, for a while, when he was sailing as a young man, and held on to the finer skills of it. It’s the same skills he used to file down his tusks for most of his life. Caduceus likes learning these things about him, like it’s filling in pieces to a puzzle he didn’t know he was working on, 

The younger kids wake early, and Beauregard has taken to playing chase with them as part of her warmup. Sometimes Fjord joins them, though he struggles to keep up with Beauregard. Sometimes he watches from afar while a sleepy child comes to sit in his lap. 

The children have gone from docile and nervous things, to delighting in their freedom. They make up songs on the road with Jester, they invent new games to play with Frumpkin. They go out of their way to find interesting rocks, sticks or bugs to show off to Fjord, and now Caduceus. They grill Yasha on all of the weird things she’s eaten. Beauregard teaches lots of them self-defence, and has several of the older kids posturing with each other as they all think they’re strong enough to fight anyone now. 

Caleb still keeps his distance. Even still, kids keep finding him and his spell components. One girl ate almost his entire supply of honey. Another dumped most of his sulphur on the ground. 

Nott adores the children, that much is obvious. They started off fearful of her goblin face, but have gotten over their fears surprisingly quickly. Nott has excellent eyes for finding interesting rocks or bugs, and she spends her time teaching them how to braid their hair and how to pickpocket without getting caught. 

Caduceus isn’t entirely sure how it started, but someone must have noticed the flowers that keep appearing on Fjord’s person. Along with anything interesting they find; kids also start bringing him flowers. And somewhere in the days it takes to reach Port Damali, it gets combined with Nott’s braiding lessons, and Fjord spends an evening with many small hands making a mess of his hair as they try to weave flowers into it. Fjord ends up with a head full of flowers, with pink being the dominating color as that was the color of the wildflowers they’d camped near that night. 

“We match,” Caduceus jokes. 

“You’re married!” Melody declares loudly when she finishes. 

Beauregard laughs so hard at Fjord and Caduceus’ shock that she falls off of her seat. 

The whole of the party laughs, delights in the antics of the children and how they’ve made fun of Fjord and Caduceus. Caduceus likes the sound of it, the feeling of this lightness in everyone. And it also resurfaces his bitterness that he’s been trying to swallow down. The closer they get to Port Damali, the closer they get to Fjord’s purpose and calling. The closer they get to what could be the end.  Caduceus isn’t sure if he’s ready for it to be the end. He feels like there’s still so much to learn, to know, about this group as it is. And he doesn’t know how it will change if Fjord leaves. 

It’s a difficult concept to deal with. He knows all things end, even when we are not ready for them to end. It’s not the end he fears, but more that, well, he has been happy here. He has been around people who care for him, and for each other, and he missed that feeling. He resents losing it, because what if it's a long time before he's happy again? 

Yasha and Nott take it upon themselves to help fix the mess of Fjord’s hair. It’s grown out some since Caduceus first met him, but still isn’t long enough for a long braid. Yasha asks if it would be okay if she put some of the excess flowers into her hair as well, which leads to Nott doing the same. And then the rest of the group follows suit. 

They arrive in Port Damali with flowers in their hair, and nearly two dozen children in their care. The city is huge, and once upon a time it would have been the largest city Caduceus has ever laid eyes on. Rexxentrum is at least double the size of Port Damali, but Caduceus is enamoured with the sprawling city of various architects, against the backdrop of the huge ocean and the high mountains closing it in. There’s an energy, a delight, about this place that Caduceus only feels in cities down on the coast. He wonders if the others feel it too, or if it’s because he grew up so far from the ocean that it still thrills him to see places where life transitions from land to sea. 

Fjord takes lead, Melody riding with him, as they head into the city. He has a stern look on his face, deep in thought. Several more flowers have bloomed in his hair, different from the ones braided in. At this point Caduceus thinks Fjord knows about them, and what they mean. 

While Caduceus likes quieter towns, where he can meet everyone so there are no more strangers, he finds that he appreciates the energy of Port Damali. It’s colorful, for one. Similar to Nicodranas, lots of the architecture is open and delightful in shape. The housing varies in size— he spies homes for halflings, for tall folk, and for even taller folk. None of them seem to be segregated into any specific communities, but rather that they all came up together. Banners drape between walkways, merchants are on the streets shouting about their wares. It’s dirty, in the same way Nicodranas can be dirty. Beggars sit along the edges; people range from wearing fine clothing to wearing barely any at all. There are no children, Caduceus notes. Even with the orphanage here not letting their wards be sold into servitude, perhaps the promise of money from stealing children away has already swept through Port Damali. 

They don’t go through the main plaza of the city. Fjord takes them along the eastern edge towards the ocean, moving through small markets for the local dwellings, and lots of residential streets. The population is refreshingly diverse, and, if they didn’t have so many children with them, Caduceus thinks they might not even draw any attention to themselves like they do in the very-human Empire. They get odd looks for the number of children they’re escorting. And thankfully, no one bothers them. 

The Driftwood Asylum is set on a small patch of land separate from other buildings near it. It’s not much, but it implies that at one time this home was potentially that of someone wealthy, or that this location was of importance. It definitely is not like that now. The building is in shambles. The yard is overgrown, the trees in dire need of pruning to stand tall and proud. The roof looks like it’s barely holding itself together, and hasn’t seen upkeep in years. Some of the windows have been broken, and boarded up, and the age of the boards indicates that it’s been so long that the windows will likely never be repaired. The back of the house faces the ocean, but rather than the rolling hills the rest of the city has, the orphanage is backed onto a steep cliff that would be difficult to navigate down. This isn’t prime property, with access to the water for a rich sailor. This home is an afterthought, is somewhere for the children of those lost to the sea to rest their heads, until they too can take to the water. 

It’s almost midday, and there are no children playing on the grounds. That makes Caduceus’ fur prickle. There are iron fences surrounding the Driftwood Asylum, and they’ve been warped and twisted from salty air and years of neglect. The gates are open, but they hang so loosely on their hinges that they are only open enough to let out people on foot. Fjord dismounts to push them open. The iron creaks loudly. Caduceus and many of the children whimper at the shrill noise. 

This is such a sad place, Caduceus observes. Is this truly where Fjord grew up? 

A halfling woman answers the door when Fjord knocks. She cracks the door open only an inch, and Caduceus hears the heavy drag of a chain bolt that keeps it closed. Her small eye, peering through, takes in the sight of them. 

“We’ve no children for you here,” she says firmly. 

“Ma’am,” Fjord interjects, and he talks quietly enough that he almost seems non-threatening, despite being twice her height, “it’s not like that. Is Headmistress Olyssa here?” 

“Olyssa?” the woman repeats, and then shakes her head, “I’m afraid she’s passed a few years ago.”

Caduceus watches Fjord carefully. Because he doesn’t pause, but, this woman clearly had to have been the one that he knew as an authority figure for most of his life. It could be the closest he’s come to losing a parent, or a family member. Is he sad? Was she distant to him, or was he fond of her? Caduceus wants to know more, but Fjord is careful not to give away so much of himself. 

“I’m saddened to hear that,” Fjord says gently, “may we speak to the new Headmaster?” 

“On what business?” the woman demands. 

Caduceus also wonders how many people they’ve had to fend off. Mercenaries looking to make money from the crown by snatching unwanted children, and sending them far from home. He finds he has a lot of respect for this woman to even answer the door to them. 

“We’re the fucking circus,” Beauregard, eloquent as always, interjects. 

Melody pops her head out from behind Fjord’s cloak, and Caduceus can see a shift in the halfling woman’s stance. She can clearly tell that this child is happy to be here, is not a prisoner by any means. Caduceus likes that this is what he’s associated with, compared to things the Mighty Nein have done before. 

“We’re bringing children for refuge,” Fjord says, and, in a surprising amount of honesty, he adds, “I used to be a ward here.”

“I’ll speak with Headmistress Carla,” the woman finally says, “what name, ser?” 

“Fjord,” Fjord says, and his jaw clenches as he says, “you can tell Carla it’s Fjord Stone. The orc boy. She’ll remember me.” 

The door closes in their face, and they’re left standing out front. 

“Is this where you live?” Melody asks loudly. 

“I used to,” Fjord corrects her, “when I was your age.” 

Melody nods, like this makes sense, and says no more. 

“I was just trying to lighten up the mood,” Beauregard hisses to Caleb, who scolded her for her tact. 

Caduceus keeps his eyes on Fjord. He scans him for flowers, for new signs or confirmations that this is where the Wildmother wants Fjord to be, but the man is quiet and closed off. Instead, Caduceus sees that the flowers he already has on his person, braided into his hair, or magically grown, have all sprouted thorns. 

Not much later, they’ve been welcomed in. The Driftwood Asylum likely was a grand home when it was first built, and since then it has steadily lost its grandeur. Cobwebs hand in the tall corners, where over-worked staff cannot reach. Everything below waist-level seems to be covered in a permanent grime, no matter how recently cleaned. The carpets and rugs are threadbare and faded. Few paintings hang on the walls. Even the lanterns are spaced few and far between. And from a quick glance Caduceus doesn’t think many of them are regularly lit either. Recently it appears the lower windows have been boarded up. Caduceus hopes it was playtime gone wrong, with a wayward rock or toy, and not something more sinister. 

They’re accepted into a reception room. It must double as a dining hall, as the table is long and lined with chairs. They have all been well-worn, with very little padding left, but it is still a matching set. Fjord moves with enough confidence that Caduceus can guess that the home hasn’t changed much in the years since he left. 

Their halfling host is Tabitha. She’s much friendlier when she returns to let them in, now having the character evaluation of the Headmistress to go on. 

Headmistress Carla is a human woman, in her sixties. Her hair is all silver, and frizzy, but she tries to keep it pinned back in a respectable attempt to contain it. She seems stern, but, there are laugh lines around her eyes that Caduceus likes the look of. 

“My god you’ve grown,” the Headmistress announces when Fjord stands at her entry. 

“Ma’am,” he nods in greeting, and pauses, before adding, “I’m sorry to hear about Olyssa.” 

“She was old,” Carla says, and she and Fjord share a look that perhaps is a joke? An affirmation between them? So many things Caduceus wonders, and tries to understand. 

“I wish she could have retired. Had some quiet,” Fjord says diplomatically. 

“She would never,” Carla says, “the Asylum, helping people, was all she ever wanted.” 

Fjord nods, and waits until Carla sits at the head of the table before he sits as well. 

“We don’t often see… returners,” Carla says politely, and glances over Caduceus, Beauregard and the rest of the Mighty Nein, “and in such company.” 

“I’ll admit I hadn’t intended to return,” Fjord says, and seems to think better of himself because he adds, “not that I associate this place with bad memories,” a lie, Caduceus notes. Fjord told them he hates this place, and that he was bullied relentlessly. That he’d wanted to escape as soon as he could. Or was that a lie? Or was it just the truth he’d believed at the time? 

“Children are never kind to those that are different,” Carla says. 

Fjord huffs a laugh, “I got myself into some trouble.”

“You never could keep your hands to yourself,” Carla laughs. And that is a connection between the Fjord that Caduceus knows, and the Fjord that he keeps trying to hide from them. 

“You were pretty mean with the paddle,” Fjord remarks. 

“And did you learn your lesson?” Carla asks. 

And as Caduceus watches, he’s aware that Fjord is leaning into his charm. He’s doing all the things he does when he lies to strangers on the road, to get them better rooms or to learn information. He’s smiling, but not with his teeth, leaning forwards attentively, holding eye contact. Caduceus can usually tell when Fjord’s lying, especially to him, but Fjord’s never really tried to lie to him before. When Fjord lies to them it’s often because he’s not ready to deal with the truth with them, and needs time to handle it himself first. 

“Let’s not talk about that. I’d hate to be a stain on your reputation,” Fjord says with a gentle laugh, and Carla smiles with him, “but, to the point—”

“You brought children to leave here?” Carla asks. 

“Yes,” Fjord says, simple, and it’s genuinely honest, “we heard you’re the only home on the coast that’s not selling kids to the government.” 

“Why?” Caduceus asks. It hadn’t occurred to him until this moment to want to know, “surely you stand to make a lot of money?” It’s obvious there’s no money to be had with the way things currently are. 

“You have to ask?” Carla asks him. Her eyes are brown, and hard. Caduceus understands in an instant that her laugh lines come from smiling when things are orderly and in control. She is not a woman who delights in spontaneity, or in rebellion. He also knows, now, that she and Fjord were at odds for most of his childhood. He wonders if she ever stepped in to stop the bullying, or if she paid it no mind until it disrupted her. 

But despite that, her task is to maintain this home, and to provide a home for wayward children. She loves in a way Caduceus doesn’t understand, but, she will hold firm to that standard she has set for herself, and she will not sway. No gold could tempt her.  

“I did,” Caduceus says, “and I understand now. Thank you.” 

Fjord looks at him, and smiles, and Caduceus wonders what he did that was so great. 

“We came upon, and rescued many children, on our trip from Nicodranas—”

Fjord stops when Carla raises a hand, “I’m sorry,” she says, “I know what you’re asking. I— they can stay, I won’t turn them into the street, but, it won’t be a good life here. You know what it’s like.” 

“It’s rough,” Fjord agrees, “but the alternative—” 

“I can barely feed the ones I have now,” Carla admits, “we’ve lost funding, since the change to educational labour. It’s why the other houses couldn’t survive. Olyssa left the last of her inheritance, and I’ve gone into mine, but, I don’t think we’ll last long enough to keep most of your kids out of the camps.” 

“I have money,” Fjord says, “I can— I’m working. I can start sending money. Or at least pay for the lodging for the ones I’m bringing you.” 

“Fjord,” Carla sighs, “it’s also— I’m old. I am here, and I will do what I can, but after? Tabitha has been a saint, but between the two of us, I don’t think there is a future here.” 

Fjord sits back in his chair and looks around the room. There are stains along the wall, food from years gone by that was once thrown, washed away, but the dye or the grease remained. A history in these walls, a past, and possibly a future. But it’s all gone now. 

“How much would it cost,” Fjord pauses, bites his tongue like he wants to stop himself, but he clenches his jaw, and then continues, “how much does it cost to run this place? To buy it?” 

“I—” Carla shakes her head, “it’s not much, but it’s still— you can’t have that kind of money, Fjord.”

“Show me the accounts,” Fjord asks, “the deed to the land. What would it cost to own it?” 

Carla sits back now, regarding Fjord with narrowed eyes, “If you’ve gotten yourself into some dirty work—” 

“It’s legitimate,” Fjord growls back, refusing to budge, “and what does it matter if you have no other option.” 

“It always matters,” Carla says, and holds his gaze. Neither of them moves, and for a moment, Caduceus wonders if they are actually going to fight. He feels like he’s watching two packs meeting, and the alpha wolves are sizing one another up. 

“I’ll check the records,” Carla finally says, “would you like to look around?” 

“Yes,” Fjord says, polite as ever, “thank you, Headmistress.” 

Fjord keeps his spine straight, and shoulders squared until after he’s sure that she’s left them alone. And then he sags back in his chair. It creaks ominously under his weight. 

“I do not know what kind of accounts you hold,” Caleb says carefully, “but I believe this is out of our pay grade.”

“What are you doing?” Beauregard asks. 

Fjord holds up his hands, helpless, “I’m doing something!” he insists, “we can’t drag these kids with us everywhere, and you heard her— if they stay here the place is going to close down anyways.” 

“I think it’s very heroic,” Jester says. 

Fjord focuses on her, “Really?” he asks. He sounds desperate for validation, for vindication that he’s doing something right. 

“I want to see your old room,” Nott interrupts. 

“Me too!” Beau adds. 

“Me three!” Melody shouts.

“I didn’t have a room,” Fjord rolls his eyes, “not to myself, at least. Melody— I bet there are other kids upstairs. Do you want to go introduce yourself? Let them know we’ll be coming up?” 

She shivers with the knowledge that she has been given A Task from Fjord. Her little face lights up, and completely contrary to the tiny, meek thing she’d been when they first found her, she leaps out of her chair and races out of the room. 

“Okay, Dad!” she shouts on her way out.

“Don’t run!” Fjord shouts as an afterthought, and then recognition dawns on his face. 

“Oh, god,” he whimpers. Beauregard cackles loudly. 

“Oh no!” Nott gasps, while Jester sighs fondly. 

“I think that’s nice,” Caduceus says, if only because Fjord looks upset. Caduceus is lying, of course. The more attached Fjord is to the children, the more likely it will be that he will be staying, and Caduceus doesn’t want to lose anyone else.

Having been given permission, though Caduceus supposes Carla doesn’t know what hell she’s unleashed, the Mighty Nein descend on the house in an attempt to learn anything and everything they can about it’s current and former occupants. 

“Did you sit in this chair?” Nott asks. 

“Probably,” Fjord tells her. 

“And you used these stairs?” Jester asks. 

“Everyone does,” Fjord sighs. 

“Case closed!” Jester and Nott whisper to one another. 

Fjord points out to Caduceus and Caleb, “See this little alcove? They used to have a table here, with like, flowers on it, I think? But we got into a game of trying to make each other trip and knock the vase over, so they moved it.” 

“Did anyone break it?” Caleb asks. 

Fjord frowns, thinking, “I don’t remember,” he admits. 

They see what is, in theory, a classroom. It’s a kaleidoscope of colors, paints, chalk and whatever else kids can get their hands on, in and spread around. It’s also small, possibly originally meant to be a sunroom. The chalk on the board at the front is faded, and it feels like no one has been in here in a long time. 

“They try to make sure you can read, and at least sign your name,” Fjord says. 

“That’s good,” Beau says, “they’re trying, I guess? It helped you, didn’t it?”

Fjord laughs, “I was a shit student. I didn’t learn any of that until I was sailing and had to learn to read a ship manifest. When it mattered, then I realized it was important.” 

There’s a wall at the back, hidden behind some building materials that must have been put out for some project, and then never moved. Caduceus spies lots of handprints.

“Is yours here?” he asks. 

Fjord looks for a moment before shaking his head, “I think they painted over them every few years. There wouldn’t be enough room otherwise.” 

Does he sound remorseful? Thankful? That there seems to be no sign of his presence here? That he’s entirely detached from this place except for what he chooses to reveal. 

Melody comes thundering down the stairs, shouting, “Dad! Dad!” Fjord flinches like he’s been burned, and Beauregard starts laughing at him again, “we’re going to play outside! Come see!” 

And that’s how they end up outside. The air is humid, and relatively warm as it’s still the afternoon. And yet Caduceus feels like there should be a chill in the air. The ocean salt hangs heavy in his mouth. It’s ominous, in a sense. Everything goes back to the ocean. He wonders if Fjord feels like that, and if that’s comforting to Fjord, in its familiarity. Maybe it’s why Fjord was willing to submit to his evil patron for so long, because it came in the guise of a childhood comfort? 

While the population of Port Damali is much more diverse than other places they’ve visited, the majority of the children here are human. Caduceus does spy a few halfling children, and some with elven heritage. He notes that there are no orcs, or anything similar to Melody either. 

Delighted by new people, and either intimidated or charmed by Melody’s aggressive attitude, a few of the kids are showing her the balls scattered in the long grass, or the game of throwing rocks and trying to hit a tree at a certain spot. 

Caleb, Nott and Jester have decided to excuse themselves to go find accommodations for the night, as well as buy enough food to set up for a decent meal for all of their children, plus the rest of the wards in the Driftwood Asylum. 

“Hey, check this out,” Fjord says, and waves Caduceus over. 

On the side of the house, just behind an overgrown bush that Fjord pushes out of the way, is some brick that’s gone unbleached from the sun. Fjord has to crouch, and brushes dust off the stones. 

“I’m pretty sure— ah, yes, here,” he says, and points at some scrapes on the brick. 

Caduceus leans over Fjord’s shoulder, wary of the thorns that Fjord’s flowers present, and squints to read. If it’s writing, it’s nearly illegible. 

“Stone,” Fjord reads, “Sabien and I wanted to leave a mark, somewhere where no one would find it. But neither of us knew how to write our names, so I think we stole someone else’ writing board, or tried to remember how to spell the last name. It’s— it’s so stupid,” he laughs, “all the kids here are named Stone. If we’d wanted our mark, we should have used our names, but— well, we weren’t very smart.” 

“But here it is,” Caduceus agrees, “your mark. Thank you for sharing it with me.” 

“We should probably not let Carla see it,” Fjord says, and stands up quickly, “grown or not, she’d kick my ass if she knew I’d defaced the house like that.” 

But Fjord’s smiling, and Caduceus feels a little better at being trusted with this, so he thinks he’d be willing to endure whatever Headmistress Carla has to offer. 

Yasha and Tabitha keep an eye on the kids outside while Beau, Caduceus and Fjord meet with Carla. 

“We’d have to talk to some people, get proper estimates, but, this is what I think it would cost to keep us afloat—” 

“You need teachers here,” Fjord says, “kids have to come out of here with skills, or else they’ll never have a chance.”

“And I suppose you’re going to teach them? Or do you also have the money to hire tutors?” Carla snaps. 

“I’m just saying,” Fjord says, “I came out of here half-starved and illiterate. And I got lucky. I’m sure there are plenty of kids who didn’t.” 

“We do the best we can—” Carla insists. 

“I know,” Fjord agrees, “but anyone who has to live here is already behind. These kids need a fighting chance to make a life for themselves.” 

Money has never been an issue for Caduceus, so it baffles him that there can be so much trouble in not having enough money to help kids in need. He can also tell that Carla is stressed, and feeling insulted. Like they think she hasn’t put her life into the orphanage, and that Fjord is being arrogant. 

“I’m going to make some tea,” Caduceus announces, “I’ll be back.” 

Tea always helps. 

He has to rummage through the kitchen to find the kettle, and by the time he figures out where they’re keeping their daily water, and also noticing that it’s perhaps a day or two old, he decides to use a spell to create water in the pot, and gets it started in the hearth fire. 

While the water boils, Caduceus continues looking through the kitchen. It’s industrial, meant for cooking large meals. He would almost be happy to cook in here. It looks like they try to keep it clean, and perhaps the older children are useful in here, but it’s clearly been considered a lost cause. He finds a broom in the corner and sweeps as he goes. 

There are sparse spices and seasonings, and most have gone stale. The vegetables in stock are all hearty and heavy, good for stews and soups. Most of them show lots of bruising or spots of slick rot. The knives are dull, and the pots all dented and blackened on the bottoms. They’ve been well-used, and fed many generations. And, like most of this place, are in need of a long retirement and unlikely to get one. 

There’s a sharp whistle outside, and then shouting. Caduceus runs to the window, pushes it open with a grunt of effort, and he’s tall enough to lean his head out. Tabitha is out, waving the kids to come running towards her. Yasha is standing alert, one hand reaching back for her great sword on her back. Danger? 

“What’s going on?” Caduceus shouts. 

And then he spies the strange man, in sturdy leather armor, standing further past Tabitha and Yasha. He must have come up around the house. 

Yasha’s back is to Caduceus, so he can’t hear what she says, but her stance is clear. Back off. 

Fjord and Beauregard come bounding outside only seconds later. Carla must have informed them of what Tabitha’s warning whistle meant. Beauregard breaks off to scout the rest of the house, passing under Caduceus as she does so. She manages a quick wave before sprinting by. 

A flash of silvery light, and snowflakes on a hot day, and Fjord’s sword is in his hand. Now faced with two armed and dangerous combatants, the man holds up both empty hands and tries to talk to them. At this distance Caduceus can barely make him out, but, he assumes the man is here for children. And had assumed they would be unprotected. 

It’s a tense minute. Yasha looks to Fjord to respond. Caduceus is sure Fjord gives him a succinct two-worded goodbye, because the man does relent and walk away. 

“That happen often?” Fjord asks. He accepts the tea with a gentle ‘thank you’. 

“Not very,” Carla says, “they must have seen your carts out front.” 

“Do you have security?” Fjord asks. 

Carla gives him a scathing look, and Fjord sighs. 

“I suppose you’ll add that to your list of improvements,” Carla says, and she says to Caduceus, “Oh, bless you.” as he hands her a warm cup of tea.  

“It’s necessary, right now,” Fjord says. 

“Where did your magic come from?” Carla asks, “I don’t recall you being gifted.” 

“Got lucky,” Fjord evades. 

Carla studies him carefully, but doesn’t pursue the conversation. 

“Are the Harris’ still doing lumber?” Fjord asks. 

“And now you want to add renovations?” Carla asks, “boy, just what kind of work did you get into to amass such a fortune?” 

Fjord’s unable to respond, because Melody comes running into the room and right up to Fjord. 

“Is the bad man gone?” she asks. 

“We scared him off,” Fjord says, “tough face, remember?” 

Melody tries to scowl, which Caduceus supposes makes her look tough, but her eyes are watery.

“They said he was here to take us all away,” she says. 

“And you know I’m not letting that happen,” Fjord reminds her. Melody holds her arms out in response, and Fjord has to lift her into his lap. Caduceus notes that he, himself, is now used to seeing Fjord with a child clinging to his person in some way. And that it’s strange to see him without one. 

Melody’s breathing calms down in proximity to Fjord. 

“Is she yours?” Carla asks. 

Fjord shakes his head, “You think I’d bring her here if she was?”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Carla shrugs, and sips her tea. 

The rest of their party arrives with many treats and tasty things in tow. Jester splurged on pastries and desserts, while Caleb and Nott invested in meats and vegetables and fruits. Nott is particularly insistent on making sure the children get a good meal. Tabitha even relinquishes her kitchen to Caduceus for the evening. As his appointed helper, Melody insists on finding some worms to go along with dinner. 

“I’m going to need a few days,” Fjord admits over dinner, “sorry.” 

Jester shakes her head, “That’s fine! Let us know how we can help.” 

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Fjord admits, “but I— I knew I had to come here, and the kids felt like a coincidence, but I think I’m supposed to save this place.” 

“Your deity is telling you this?” Caleb wonders. 

“Seems weird she’d pick you of all people,” Beauregard adds, “like, no offense, but aren’t there other people way more into kids who would love to save a bunch of orphans?” 

“Maybe he’s the only one with money,” Nott adds helpfully. 

“Caduceus has money,” Jester points out.

“Two for one,” Nott reasons. 

“We paid for a few nights anyways,” Caleb assures Fjord, “we’re here for you, Fjord.” 

Fjord groans, and scrubs a hand down his face, “Right, shit. There was, uh, an incident. Some merc was lurking around here. Carla says they don’t get much issue, and they lock everything up at night, but I’m going to stick around just in case some people are getting ideas. I’ll refund you—” 

“It’s fine,” Caleb cuts him off, “please. We’re here to help. Should the rest of us stay?”

Fjord shakes his head, “I don’t think anything is going to happen.” 

“I’m staying,” Yasha announces. She has a dark look on her face. It’s not too hard to recall how violent and cold she’d gotten when she’d been unleashed on one of the mercenaries they’d encountered on the way. 

“I’ll stay too,” Caduceus offers, “that way, all of us can take a watch tonight, and the rest of us can go sleep in a real bed.” 

“I can stay,” Nott offers, “I’ll stab anyone who tries to take one of our kids.” 

“Pass,” Beau says, and pauses when she realizes how she sounds, “I mean, if you guys have it handled, then yeah. I’d like to sleep in a nice bed, with no nosy kids, for once.” 

“As would I,” Caleb agrees. Jester also wants the chance for a warm bath and a bed to herself. 

Caduceus would like to join in as well. He recalls their early days of this trip, with Caleb, Beauregard and Caduceus commiserating on their shared unease around children. He wonders if they recognize that Fjord is on the verge of leaving them, or if they are still unaware of how deep Fjord’s fondness for the children has grown. 

“Sorry,” Fjord sighs again, “this is just— I didn’t realize how much of a hassle this was going to be.”

“Buy me a beer when we’re done here,” Beauregard offers, “and we’ll call it square.” 

Fjord nods, and Caduceus is painfully aware that he doesn’t agree to the terms explicitly. Fjord lies, it’s what he does, but he lies to them specifically when he’s not ready to tell them the truth. 

On top of the children the Mighty Nein have brought in, the Driftwood Asylum was already near capacity. It means, to have enough bedding, the children have to share. Lots of the older kids, even the ones who have been at the Asylum for some time, are pushed out of beds and onto the floor. Caduceus thinks it’s kind of cozy, to have everyone on top of each other like this, but then again, he’s learning that his family was a little different. Maybe lots of folks don’t like this sort of thing. 

Caleb and Nott found it difficult to separate, but eventually settled on him leaving Frumpkin to stay close to Nott as an extra set of eyes, and so Caleb can check in occasionally. He and Beauregard moved the carts so hopefully they will stop drawing attention to the Driftwood Asylum.

Yasha falls asleep easily on the floor. They’ve taken up guard in the foyer, near to the front door if only because it’s within eyesight of the main staircase, so they will know if anyone does get into the house and tries to get to the children. Carla walks with Fjord, showing him how they lock up all the windows, how many of the first-floor windows have been boarded shut, and all the doors are secure. 

Caduceus is taking first watch. Yasha snores softly, and Nott and Frumpkin have curled up on a reading chair together, both covered by her cloak. 

Caduceus isn’t surprised when Fjord returns from settling the children in for the night, and sits down beside him. 

Caduceus likes the quiet. One thing he’s learned is that most people do not. Fjord is one of them. Fjord picks at a stray thread on his pants, itches under his chin. Sighs loudly, and stretches multiple times.

“I want to help,” Fjord says, finally. 

“Help?” Caduceus echoes. 

“The kids,” Fjord gestures around them, “the house, everything. Even Carla. I want to help. I do.” 

“I think you’re doing a lot,” Caduceus says. 

“But is it really what I want to do?” Fjord asks. 

“Do you… not want to do this?” Caduceus asks. 

Fjord shakes his head, “No, no, of course I want to do this. What kind of monster would see this situation and walk away from it with a clean conscience? This task has been given to me, and—” Fjord pauses, and his voice breaks, “but is this what I want? Or am I under orders? And I have to accept that?” 

“Oh,” Caduceus hears him, “I see.” 

The dam has clearly broken, and Fjord keeps talking, “I dreamed about coming here, to this place. But I didn’t know for what. And then we found Melody in the market, and the other kids, and every step of the way it felt like the path was becoming clearer and clearer. I was meant to bring these kids here, to save them all, and to save this place. But I— I don’t want to be a Headmaster of an Orphanage. I want to adventure; I want to see the world. I want to go with you and the Mighty Nein, but now I can’t—” 

“Of course you can,” Caduceus cuts him off, “you always have a choice.”

“Do I?” Fjord asks, “have you ever been guided? Like this?” And he picks at some of the flowers on his breastplate. Fjord curses under his breath as he stabs himself on a thorn, and immediately sucks on the cut. 

“She’s not usually so blunt,” Caduceus agrees nervously, “but, well, I tend to listen when she talks.” 

Fjord rolls his eyes, “Yes, yes. I am a bit dense.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Caduceus assures him. 

Fjord waves him off, “I know. You’re— it’s being here, again. This was home, and I do have good memories, but most of what I recall of here is all the ways I was different, and belittled for it. It was a life, but it wasn’t an easy one. I’m just… I’m reminded of how… how little I was. Getting a job on a ship, to sail away from here, seemed like the adventure of a lifetime.” 

“It’s very exciting,” Caduceus says, “you brought me onto a ship for the first time.”

Fjord huffs a laugh, “What we did was very different than being a merchant sailor. And I… I want more of our adventures. I’m not ready to retire.”

“So don’t,” Caduceus says.

“But she— the Wildmother gave me this task,” Fjord says nervously, “and if I say no… she won’t be happy with me.” 

They had this conversation before, days ago, and Caduceus thought they’d gotten to the heart of it. But clearly Fjord needs to hear it again. 

“She put you on this path for some reason— whether it’s because you are the hero this story needs, or you have the right skills needed to complete this, or because of some other reason you and I aren’t aware of. You’re doing great.” 

Fjord looks up at him, nervous, “You think so?” 

Looking at how Carla and Fjord interacted all day, disapproving comments and firm rebuffs, Caduceus starts to paint a better picture. Fjord was likely reprimanded sternly when he stepped out of line, and then ignored when he was doing good. 

“Why don’t we ask her?” Caduceus offers, “a quick meditation, outside. Will that help?”

“It’s bizarre to me that you can just… call the Wildmother,” Fjord muses, but he gets to his feet with Caduceus. 

“Though,” Fjord continues, “I guess Jester is friends with her deity.”

“Oh, that, well,” Caduceus isn’t quite sure how to phrase this, and he almost thinks he can hear the Wildmother laughing in the breeze that shakes the tree branches, “that’s a bit different.” 

They take a moment to get settled in the overgrown grass, not going too far from the front door. They are on watch after all. But from experience, they’re both aware that should there be any issues tonight, it will come later into the dark. 

Caduceus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in. The ocean smell remains, overpowering. Underneath it he can smell grass, and earth. Soft scents of the city: animals, meats cooking, hearth fires. 

Fjord’s gotten enough practice this week that Caduceus lets him reach out on his own.  He can hear Fjord mimic his slow inhale and exhale, and the gentle mumble of Fjord talking under his breath. Caduceus also… well, he doesn’t mind being a translator, between Fjord and the Wildmother, but he also feels like he can never get the words right in the way Fjord wants to hear them. 

That, and, he doesn’t want to be the one to have to convince Fjord to stay. 

He wants to travel, to be with us, Caduceus thinks, I want that too. We’ll help here, but then, can we go? Or will this be years of our lives? 

He’s not sure how much time he has before he has to return home, himself. And the rest of their party are too connected to other places to stay here for any length of time. 

They hear the creak of the fence at the same time. Caduceus has to blink in the dark to try and see, but it’s dark enough on the grounds and without any extra light that he struggles to see anything. Fjord puts out a hand to grab Caduceus’ arm.

“Three men,” Fjord whispers, “go wake Yasha.”

“Three against one,” Caduceus argues quickly, “that won’t be good—” 

“I doubt they’re expecting a fight,” Fjord reminds him, “I’ll stall. Hurry.” 

Fjord jumps to his feet and barks a loud, “Hey!” at the figures he can see. In a shocking flash of light against the dark, he’s summoned his long sword. The runes glow in the dark. 

Caduceus makes his way back to the house. He rouses Yasha and Nott in an instant, both women leaping to their feet without question. 

By the time they make it outside, which is no time at all, Fjord is already walking back to the house. 

“They bolted as soon as I spoke to them,” he says, “I don’t think they were expecting any kind of security. So, I don’t think they’ll return tonight.” 

“I’ll rig the fences to explode the instant someone touches them,” Nott mutters darkly. 

“They’ll probably return with a plan,” Yasha observes, “if they’re this set on kidnapping kids.” 

“We’ll have to take serious watches,” Fjord decides, and sighs heavily, “and, I don’t know, figure something out, I guess.” 

“If I get my hands on them, they won’t be a problem anymore,” Yasha informs them. She and Nott go to scour the rest of the perimeter to be sure it’s secure. 

“Maybe they’ve been scared enough they won’t bother to try again,” Caduceus reasons, “I mean, the money for kidnapping and handing children over can’t be that good, right?” 

Fjord shrugs.

“Did you get any answers?” Caduceus asks. It’s a bit rude to pry, he knows, but he feels like he’s been invited into this conversation. 

“I don’t know,” Fjord sighs, “I… I think I know what she wants from me. But I don’t know if it’s what I want. And I don’t know which one is more important.”

Caduceus wakes to a beautiful dawn, with a gorgeous view of the sun  as it rises over the horizon. No one woke him in the night, so he assumes the rest of the watches were uneventful. It appears that Fjord took the last watch, as Caduceus runs into him as Fjord is sneaking back downstairs from checking in on the kids. 

“All accounted for,” Fjord confirms. 

He follows Caduceus into the kitchen and the two of them wordlessly build a fire in the hearth and start some tea for the morning. Caduceus considers what to make for breakfast out of the leftovers from last night. 

“They’re lucky,” Caduceus muses, “these kids. To have you here.” 

“I don’t really like kids,” Fjord confesses. 

“I think they pick up on that,” Caduceus agrees, since it seems that the more he tried to resist the kids on their journey to Port Damali, the more the kids seemed drawn to him.

Fjord sighs, and slumps back against the counter, “I know. What kind of— I am not a good role model for anyone. I don’t even know what I’m doing, really. Who am I to— to what? Run an orphanage? I don’t know the first thing about raising a kid, let alone, like, fifty of them!”

Caduceus realizes he forgot to finish his sentence out loud, and so Fjord only heard the part that sounded accusatory. 

“Aw, heck, sorry,” Caduceus says quickly, “I was trying to say that I think you’re perfect for this. You’re showing up as the hero you needed when you were a kid, and you’re gonna change a bunch of lives for the better because of it.” 

Fjord seems humbled by the praise, and looks down at his boots, “Oh, well, thank you.” 

They find themselves in a comfortable silence. Caduceus makes them tea, instructs Fjord on things to chop up for him, and everything almost feels normal. Like they’ve been doing this for years. It’s the kind of domesticity, working with someone else in a proper kitchen, that Caduceus has missed for a long time now. 

“So you think I should stay?” Fjord asks. 

“I didn’t say that,” Caduceus says. 

“But I’m making a difference. I’m doing what I’ve been tasked with, and I’m a hero for it. That’s what you’re saying,” Fjord points out. 

“You could be a hero anywhere,” Caduceus insists, “I was just pointing out that you were being hard on yourself.”

Fjord huffs a laugh, “I could be a hero with the Mighty Nein? We are in high favour with both sides of a continental war, and we also leave little statues of penises everywhere we go. Not to mention, we became pirates because we accidentally stole a ship, killed a lot of people, and set the ship on fire. And then were promptly banned from being pirates. I— what we do as an adventuring party is fascinating, but, I wouldn’t call it heroic. We’re very self-serving.” 

“Sounds like you’re weighing some judgement on that,” Caduceus observes. The Mighty Nein have done a lot more than that together, and have done many heroic things. That Fjord is choosing to focus on all the ways they are not heroic, or perhaps a source of shame, feels telling. 

“I take it you’ve already made a decision?” Caduceus asks. 

“I’ll see what the state of things is first,” Fjord says, “but… the Wildmother wants me to be here. After all she’s done for me, and all the trouble I get myself into, I thought it would be worth listening to someone a little wiser.” 

“Don’t do something just because you don’t think you have a choice,” Caduceus warns him. 

Fjord flashes Caduceus a glare, but the anger isn’t for him, “Trust me,” Fjord assures him, “that won’t happen again.” 

Caduceus is reminded of waking up, all those months ago in the Underforge, to Fjord’s pained whispers, to Fjord’s blood seeping out through his fingers, and learning that Fjord had just stood toe-to-toe with his patron, a god, and emerged victorious. It was the first time Caduceus had looked at Fjord and seen not just a hurt and scared soul, but someone with a hidden core of steel. 

“I believe you,” Caduceus says softly. 

Fjord’s shoulders relax, “Yeah, you always do.”

Carla and Tabitha seem glad for the extra help. Nott and Fjord get roped into helping get the children all roused and dressed. Yasha helps Caduceus get food out on the table as hungry kids rush in. Many of the current wards of the Driftwood Asylum, not used to the Mighty Nein and their colorful assortment of characters, are a little timid. But the smell of warm food and childish curiosity easily helps overcome those fears. 

Jester, Caleb and Beauregard return near the tail-end of breakfast. Tabitha takes charge in getting the kids involved in tidying and cleaning around the house. The rest of them join Fjord and Carla in her office to discuss the events of last night. 

“If it’s just a few chumps, I bet you scared them off,” Beau shrugs. 

“If they’re determined enough to scope in daylight, and then come back under the cover of dark, I think they could be a threat,” Caleb argues. 

“You should have called,” Jester pouts, “we could have followed them, and kicked their butts.” 

“And risk retaliation?” Carla demands, and she looks at Fjord, as if this is all his fault now, “we’ve had mercenaries sniffing around, but no kind of attack like last night—” 

“It really wasn’t an attack,” Fjord assures her. 

“It happened the day you came back,” Carla points out. 

Fjord stays composed, but the stillness of his hands and body is a conscious choice, “You think there’s a connection?” 

“It took me some time to remember. But you were sailing under Vandran, weren’t you? At the time his ship went down?” Carla asks. 

Fjord waits for her to continue, rather than say anything. 

“I just think it’s strange that you go from a shiphand, to having the money to buy land and run an orphanage.”

“I’m not involved in whatever it is you think I am,” Fjord growls, but doesn’t raise his voice. 

“As soon as you show up, we have trouble. I have to think of the children in my care,” Carla explains. 

“Fjord helped! He chased them off,” Jester hops to her feet with her protest. 

“What is it you’re really worried about?” Caduceus asks, “Fjord is here to basically solve all of your problems. Are you scared? About losing your livelihood?” 

It’s very likely she fears retribution for what could easily be understood as a childhood of neglect, on her behalf to Fjord. Fjord said he’d been picked on and shamed for being half-orc, and from what Caduceus has seen, the children must have gotten that attitude from their superiors. 

“Or is there something else?” Caduceus wonders. 

Fjord shoots Caduceus an awed smile. He’s always so impressed when Caduceus points out things that Caduceus feels are very obvious. 

“Just say the truth, please,” Fjord tells Carla, and he sits back in his chair, crosses his legs at the ankle like the picture of nonchalance. Caduceus is always so impressed by how easily Fjord lies, “I want to do what’s best for the kids too. So let’s get this issue behind us, and move forwards.” 

She drums her fingertips on her desk a moment, considering, and then folds her hands together in her lap, “I knew you as a boy. I can’t speak for the man you are, but the boy I knew was never very fast with his fists, and so he got very good with his words. You charmed Olyssa enough, it’s true. And while the child does not necessarily inform the man, I have to go on what I know about you. I don’t trust half of what you say, Fjord. Because the other thing that people like you are good at, so far as I know, is killing. And I know that killing for the right people does bring in a lot of money, and that kind of money leads to things that need fronts in places where no one would think to look. Like, perhaps, an orphanage. You come home, like your friend said, with a solution to all of my problems, and you think I shouldn’t question that?” 

“Hey, fuck you!” Beauregard shouts before anyone else can speak. 

“Language,” Carla corrects her, though it sounds more like habit than a real response. 

“No, seriously, fuck you,” Beau says, and she pushes off from her slouch on the wall to lean over Fjord’s shoulder to point aggressively at Carla, “this is bullshit. You’re a piece of shit, and we don’t have to do a single thing more to help you!” 

“Beau,” Fjord says, looking up at her, “I asked Carla to be honest.” 

“Yeah, and she’s a fucking asshole,” Beau points out. 

Fjord nods in agreement, and he leans forwards on his elbows. He hasn’t broken his charade of nonchalance, even though Caduceus knows how aggressive Fjord can get in defense of himself. The memories of the half-orc blacksmith they’d met before come to mind, and how quick Fjord had been to rudeness at a perceived slight. 

He must be furious, but he’s maintaining his lie, because he wants something. 

“Thank you for your honesty, Carla. Now, as I see it, we have a few options here. One: we play it by your rules. I leave. I take my money with me. This place goes under in, what, a few months? And then I buy it anyways, and try to salvage whatever and whoever is left. Or, Two, you and I figure out a way to make this work because I’m going to have it my way no matter what you choose.” 

Fjord and Beauregard always amp one another up, and Caduceus thinks they’re good for each other. In this particular instance, he’s not sure that their aggressive energy is the right path. 

To her credit, Carla doesn’t flinch, “Are you threatening me?” 

“Just pointing out the obvious,” Fjord replies smoothly, and he doesn’t look away from her when he orders, “give us the room, please. We need to talk business.” 

Caduceus doesn’t like this, but then again he’s never faced such a strange brand of hostility that Carla has for Fjord. He thinks this is the wrong way to go about everything. 

“Beau,” Fjord calls as she makes to storm out. With a flick of his wrist he’s summoned his sword. Carla forces herself not to flinch. 

“Take this please,” Fjord says, and hands his sword over. 

That makes Caduceus feel a bit better. While Carla won’t know that Fjord could summon the sword back to himself at will, the display of disarming himself makes it clear that he’s not looking to use violence. 

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Beau says. 

Caduceus feels he should be standing guard at the door, but who knows how long Fjord and Carla will be talking with one another. They close the door behind them, and all stand in the hall looking at one another. 

“I don’t like her,” Jester grimaces. 

“You and me both,” Beau agrees. 

“It sounds like we should go look through her stuff,” Nott points out. 

“I don’t think that’s the case,” Caduceus reasons. 

Jester’s already interested in the idea. 

“What if we handed out a few firecrackers to the kids?” Beau asks. 

“Chaos,” Caleb reasons, and he sounds like he’s in total agreement, “but, it could be funny. Though, perhaps you should try not to burn down the house that Fjord is looking to buy.”

Beau scoffs, and she turns to face everyone. They all have to step back to avoid the swing of Fjord’s sword in her grip, “Was he actually serious? About buying this junk? Why would he do that?” 

“Well he’s taking over,” Caduceus says, because how could they have missed that? 

“Okay, but like, why? It’ll be hard for us to get anything done when he has to keep coming back to check in on the place.” 

“Beau,” Caleb says gently, because he’s realized what Caduceus meant, what they’ve all failed to see. 

Caduceus wonders if he’s made a mistake. He forgets how ignorant people are to truths that they don’t want to see. And most of his friends weren’t there for his and Fjord’s conversations, to see the way Fjord has talked himself into feeling confident in this decision, so that he can feel like he’s made the right choice when he tells them all that he’s staying behind. 

“Fjord’s not going to leave with us,” Caleb says, to put the ugly truth out for everyone. 

Beauregard’s face goes dangerously neutral. 

“Oh,” is all she says, and she turns on her heel and storms outside. 

It’s a… well, the afternoon isn’t quiet. The children are always loud. Melody grows upset when Fjord and Carla remain in their meeting and can’t be disturbed, and her tantrum leads to several other kids throwing a tantrum in what Caduceus assumes is solidarity. Caleb improvises an entire dance, including glowing orbs, with Frumpkin to entertain them all, as Jester makes up a song to go along with it. 

Tabitha informs them that often the children are given “learning tasks” such as reading books together, or memorizing poems to recite at dinner. Jester thinks that sounds horrifically boring, and leads a small army of kids to the nearly-abandoned classroom in search of art supplies. 

Yasha and Caduceus walk the perimeter of the land a few times throughout the day, keeping watch for any sign of their unwelcome friends. Nott occupies herself with the small children, who are equally enthralled by her button collection. She’s delighted by their baby smell, and remarks upon this often. 

There’s no sign of Beauregard. 

“Maybe I should go find her?” Yasha suggests. 

“She needs some space,” Caduceus says, “I’m sure she’ll be back when she’s ready. I don’t think she was prepared for the thought of Fjord leaving.” 

Yasha sighs, “I don’t know if I want him to go, honestly. I… I feel like I still have work to do, to make up for the time I nearly killed him.” 

“I’m sure Fjord considers that done with—” Caduceus tries. 

Yasha shakes her head, “Even if he does, it’s not settled for me. Fjord tried to save me, you know? Right before I killed him. I think about that a lot. If— maybe if it had been seconds sooner, Obann wouldn’t have been able to reclaim me. Fjord almost saved me, and in return I killed him.” 

“That’s just beating yourself up,” Caduceus assures her, “besides, with the way you’ve helped with the kids, I think you two are on good terms.” 

Fjord and Carla talk through the morning. Caduceus is certain that they’d only needed real privacy for the start of their conversation, but the door to Carla’s study remains closed and everyone respects the message that gives. 

Caduceus spends his time preparing lunch, and then cleaning up from it afterwards. A few of the children who accompanied them from out of town join him, used to helping him cook and he’s thankful for the chance to pass on more skills. Without Fjord to shadow, Melody seems to have decided that Caduceus is the next best thing. She’s disheartened by the lack of Fjord’s presence, and it shows in how quiet she’s gotten since her tantrum earlier. She doesn’t even try to boss the other kids around, nor does she laugh when Caduceus asks if she wants to find any worms for dinner. 

"You look like you've got something heavy on your mind," Caduceus says to her.

She absently touches the top of her head, taking him literally, before looking up at him.

"Are you going to leave?" she asks.

"Oh, well," Caduceus tries to think of how to answer this. He also has a problem with people leaving, he's come to find, which is strange because it's been such a big part of his life so far. One would think he's used to it by now. Or, well, maybe that's something too.

"One day we'll all leave," Caduceus tells her, "that's what life is like. The beauty is, when people leave, they get to come back, and they never really leave. Once you've met, you carry people with you forever."

It doesn't have the desired effect, and he watches Melody's eyes tear up.

"But you and dad are going to leave," she whimpers, "and you're going to leave me here!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Caduceus scrambles. What did he say? How does he stop another meltdown? Children are so loud and so much, he doesn't think his ears can handle another tantrum.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't like us anymore, and you're going to leave us here and never come back," Melody whimpers.

"Now who told you that?" Caduceus asks, "because that is not true at all! Mr Fjord and I like you plenty."

"They said that's what dads do," Melody scrubs at her eyes.

"Who?" Caduceus asks.

"The other kids, who live here because their dads left them here. Or their mommies. Or they just lived here forever. They said you get old and then they kick you out, and you die."

"They're talking nonsense," Caduceus insists, "they're just trying to scare you, because it makes them feel better. You're not going to get kicked out and die."

"But you and dad are leaving me behind," she argues.

Caduceus is very aware that the other kids are listening in on this conversation too. Oh, oh dear. He has a moment, he can see, that he's going to have an impact on their lives. He has to be careful with his words.

"We brought you here because it's the safest place for all of you to be, and so we can help take care of all the kids. Mr Fjord is hard at work to make that happen. I know this place seems a little strange, and can use a little work, but it's going to be a lovely place to call home. I'm sure of it. You're going to be so happy here, and make a big family out of everyone who puts a little bit of love into your life."

"But—" Melody starts.

"It may happen that myself, or even Mr Fjord might leave here for a bit, but that doesn't mean we don't care about you. Sometimes adults have to go do things that adults have to do, and you'll be here to make sure the place doesn't burn down. And to help take care of everyone else. But we'd come back, when it was time. And we wouldn't leave because we cared about you any less. Does that make sense?" Caduceus asks. He even glances around the room to see a few of the other kids nodding along.

Ah, so this fear has been spreading amongst many of their wards. It makes sense, that they'd been taken in by people who rescued them, that they'd bond with them and want that kind of security of having authority figures who cared for you to stay and continue caring for you. Plus, Caduceus can't blame them for not feeling welcome in this house. Everything about its energy feels... off. Sad. Broken. It's a home, but only in concept. It doesn't feel like a home.

Caduceus isn't going to leave until that changes.

"By the way," he asks, "where did this 'Dad' thing come from?"

"That's what dad is," Melody says, "a dad takes care of you and keeps you safe."

"Well with that logic, I guess you're right."

"You're a dad too," Melody reasons out.

"How about Uncle?" Caduceus corrects quickly.

"Okay!" Melody agrees.

It's just then that Fjord peeks his head into the room.

"Caduceus!" he greets, "do you have time before dinner?"

"Dad!" Melody shouts, and races across the room at him. Fjord's face flashes the familiar fear-embarrassment-unease at the term, but he bends down to scoop her up all the same.

"I can make time. Is something wrong?" Caduceus asks.

"I'm just calling the Nein together for a quick meeting," Fjord glances over his shoulder, and hefts Melody a little higher on his hip, "are you getting bigger? I think you're much bigger than the last time I saw you."

"You saw me forever ago," Melody groans, "you were gone all day!"

"I'm doing it," Fjord says, looking to Caduceus, "we worked it out. Ownership, rights, deeds, a manifesto. I'm going to be the patron, and I'm going to be staying for a while."

Caduceus' stomach sinks low into his gut. He feels queasy.

"That's great," he says.

"You're staying?" Melody gasps.

"I gotta make sure you don't eat all the worms," Fjord teases her. She laughs in delight.

This is a good thing, Caduceus sees, in Melody laughing and throwing her arms around Fjord. In the way Fjord almost melts into the touch. He's meant to be a protector, to serve and watch over those who need help. He's perfect to help raise these children, cast aside by circumstance or unfortunate moments, because he knows their pain. He'll relate to them in ways Caduceus never will, and never could, and he can build a home for them that will have all of the love and kindness that are so integral to Fjord's character.

Caduceus has to keep reminding himself this is a good thing. And he's happy for Fjord, he is. It's truly a blessing to find your purpose in life, and better yet, to step proudly into the role.

He just wants to stop feeling like his family is leaving him again.

Caduceus and Fjord brew tea to bring to the meeting. Now that she's alleviated her anxieties, Melody is eager to go play with the other kids, and to spread the good news.

The Mighty Nein are gathered in the dining room, which is one of the only places big enough for all of them to be together comfortably. Beauregard, and by extension Fjord's sword, are notably absent.

"Where's Beau?" Fjord asks.

Yasha and Jester shrug helplessly.

"We looked, but no sign of her," Yasha says.

"I sent her a message but she didn't respond," Jester sighs, "I think she's mad."

"What happened?" Fjord asks.

"As if you don't know," Nott snaps.

"What's that supposed to mean? I've been busy all day," Fjord retorts.

"You're leaving us, aren't you," Caleb says plainly.

Fjord's clearly surprised that he figured that out, "Oh, uh. Well... yeah. I think I am. I have a mission, or a, a duty, I guess? To get this place back on its feet. It's going to take some time, and I can't expect all of you to put your lives on hold for something so trivial. I mean, one day in the future, if you're all still adventuring, I would love to catch up. And you'd always be welcome here, of course."

"You can't leave!" Jester protests.

"It's okay," Fjord assures her, "it's not like you're losing anyone vital. You've got Beau and Caleb for their brains, Yasha and Beau can hold the line in a fight, everyone else fights at range well enough. The group is still well-balanced for travel. You won't even notice I'm gone, really."

"What do you mean we won't notice?" Jester says, "you won't be there!"

"Nott will need someone new to torment," Fjord agrees with a small laugh.

"I don't torment you," Nott says, "I'm just honest."

"But, truly," Fjord continues, "the party will be just fine without me. Actually, if you pick up any more work, you'll make more money since there’s less people to split it. And you won't have to deal with my bad decisions getting us all in trouble."

"Well, I was thinking I could stick around for a bit," Caduceus says, "you'll need a cook. And I'll be cheap— just room and board for now."

Fjord shakes his head, "No, no, you don't have to do that, really. I can take care of things, you don't have to go out of your way—"

"I'll do arts and crafts," Jester says.

"I would be happy to tutor," Caleb agrees.

"I... can do... landscaping," Yasha tries.

Fjord looks around at all of them, shocked.

"You... why would you stay? This is going to be weeks, if not months of work. And then, it's— children grow for years. I plan on opening up to take in more children. It's practically a life sentence—"

"Maybe not for life," Nott figures, "but, I think we're all staying."

"Why?" Fjord insists. He sounds angry? Scared? It strikes Caduceus in this moment that Fjord might be feeling just as sick about leaving that Caduceus has been.

"Because you're our friend," Jester says, "and you're important."

Fjord nods slowly, and leans back in his chair to cross his arms across his chest.

"Which way did Beau go?" he asks.

"Outside," Caleb shrugs, "right after we realized you were going to leave us."

"She's probably pissed," Jester agrees.

Fjord lets out a shaky breath, "Okay, well, I should go find her. I— uh— really, you all don't have to do anything—"

"For the record," Nott cuts him off, "I'm staying to make sure you don't pass on your stupid ideas onto the babies. They don't deserve that."

That does make Fjord smile, and he nods in agreement, "Fine, okay. Deal."

Fjord didn't have to go far to find Beauregard. It turns out she'd scaled a tree, and from there up onto the roof of the orphanage. Caduceus discovers this because he can hear Fjord shouting up at the roof.

"Beau! I know you're up there- I can sense my sword! Will you come down?"

Caduceus quietly makes his way to a window from where he can angle himself properly to see Fjord standing outside, hands on his hips, and head tilted back.

"You can sit up there and sulk all you want, or you can stop being a coward and talk to— hey! Shit!"

Fjord flinches, reaches out a hand, and in an instant has summoned his sword to himself. Caduceus takes a guess: Beau threw it at him.

"I've got nothing to say to you," Beau shouts down.

At this point Jester, Nott and Caleb have slunk into the room, and come and join Caduceus by the window.

"Are you mad?" Fjord shouts.

"No!"

"Why are you mad?"

"I'm not mad! I just said so!"

"If you're not mad then come down here!"

"No!"

"Fine! Then I'm coming up!"

"That's a bad idea," Jester says quietly.

"Fjord's going to die," Nott says, and then adds, "it's going to be hilarious."

Jester quietly whispers a quick spell, and puts a blessing on Fjord as he turns to pick a tree to climb.

“What’s going on?” Yasha asks, coming up behind all of them peeking through the window. Jester shushes her, and waves to Yasha to join them.

The five of them melt to the edges of the window to be sure Fjord doesn't spot them as he dismisses his sword, and takes a running leap to grab onto a low tree-branch. It's... well, Caduceus figures when he was little and climbed the trees back home, he was doing it for fun, so technique and skill didn't matter too much. Fjord is doing something a little different, and manages to get his ankle hooked over the branch to hoist himself up, and then the branch cracks under his weight, and they see Fjord freeze a moment, and that's all it takes and the branch breaks and both man and foliage fall to the ground.

Nott lets out a shocked cackle before Caleb slaps a hand over her mouth to quiet her. They all wait with baited breath. Fjord doesn’t move. Caduceus readies a quick healing spell just in case. 

The tree shakes, and then Beauregard nimbly scales down, hanging down from the tree above Fjord. 

“Are you dead?” she asks. 

Finally, and Caduceus breathes a sigh of relief, Fjord raises a hand to point up at her, “You do care!” 

Beau drops to the ground beside Fjord, and stands over him. 

“Did you break anything?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Unfortunate.”

“So you are mad!” Fjord points out. 

Beau shoves him with her foot. Fjord slaps her away and pushes himself up slowly. Jester grimaces. Fjord’s going to be bruised tomorrow, that’s for sure. 

“I just talked to the others,” Fjord starts, but Beau cuts him off. 

“So you’re leaving, just like that?” she says. 

“It’s not— it’s not ‘just like that’,” Fjord argues, “but yes. I’m going to stay.” 

“Fine,” Beau says, “enjoy that.” 

“Why are you so mad at me?” Fjord demands. 

Beau crosses her arms and turns away from him, “I’m not mad. In fact, I’m happy that I don’t have to spend my time training you every morning. Or— or being your first mate. Or whatever. Now I get to be the Captain. I’m happy!”

“Beau…” Fjord pauses a moment, “I’m not— I’m not leaving because of you. The Wildmother wants me to take care of—”

“Of the kids, of course. They need you, so, like, why do I care? I think it’s great,” Beau snaps, still refusing to turn and face him, “and you’re gonna be great at it, and you’re gonna have a great time. See? I’m happy for you.” 

“Are you going to miss me?” Fjord asks. 

Because she has her back to Fjord, the rest of them have a clear view of Beau’s face. Which means they can all see as she takes a second to compose herself before she says, “Yeah, I guess?”

“I’m gonna miss you, a lot,” Fjord admits, “I— I don’t want to leave—”

“Then don’t!” Beau shouts, and spins around to confront him, “if you don’t want to do it, you shouldn’t!” 

“I have to do this,” Fjord insists, “I have this chance to do something good, and I have to take it. But I’m really going to miss adventuring with you. With everyone, but— you’re my first mate. It’s going to be weird—” 

“I don’t want you to stay here,” Beau admits, and they hear her voice crack, “you’re like— fuck— you’re one of my best friends. Who the fuck is gonna help me be a better person?”

“You are a good person,” Fjord insists.

“But like, a nice person! And— and— things were just getting really good! We all like each other, we’re all trying to be better. We’re doing really dope shit in the world, and we’re just getting started. Why do you have to leave me— why— why can’t I just have something good?”

Her words hang over them, and Beau scrubs at what are probably tears on her face with the back of her hand. Fjord approaches her slowly, and with his face towards the window, Caduceus can see that he looks like he might cry as well. 

“I’m not doing this to hurt you,” Fjord promises, “I don’t want to make you cry.”

“I’m not crying. You’re crying,” Beau mutters, and slaps his hand away when he reaches for her. Fjord responds by making a grab for her, Beau dodges and delivers an open-palm slap to Fjord’s sore hip. He hisses, tries to grab her around the waist, and with both of them still crying, they start wrestling. Beau sweeps Fjord’s legs out from under him, but he drags her down with him.

And once in the grass, whatever fight there was in them fades, and Fjord manages to pull Beau into a hug. She hugs him back. They lay in the dirt holding each other for a while.

“Jocks,” Nott mutters in astonishment. 

“They’re strange,” Caleb agrees. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Yasha admits. 

After a few minutes Fjord and Beauregard have picked themselves up off the ground. They dust themselves off, and give each other teasing grins as they both try to compose themselves. 

“The others were talking about maybe staying for a bit. Doing teaching, or cooking,” Fjord offers, “maybe… maybe you could stay for a bit too?”

“Of course I’ll stay,” Beau says, “I’m teaching real skills though. Like how to fight. And who else is gonna keep these kids in shape?” 

“That sounds terrifying, I love it,” Fjord agrees. He throws an arm over her shoulders as they make their way towards the house to come inside. 

“Thank god no one came to see what you were yelling about,” Beau remarks. 

“Oh, that would have been embarrassing,” Fjord agrees. 

“I never cried, okay?” Beau checks with him, “I was totally cool about this.” 

“We were both cool as cucumbers, obviously,” Fjord says.

“To the grave?” Beau checks. 

“To the grave,” Fjord echos, and then the two of them are out of sight of the window. 

“When do we tell them?” Nott asks. 

“Never, I should think,” Caduceus says. 

“Only if it’s funny,” Jester says.

“And if you’re prepared for Beauregard’s retribution,” Caleb reminds them. 

“Ah,” Nott realizes, “maybe I’ll hold on to this secret for a while.”

As the afternoon passes, Caduceus busies himself with final preparations for dinner. Caleb and Beauregard are building a business plan with Fjord, including what sort of education system they’re going to set up, and Jester, Nott and Yasha are helping Tabitha keep the children engaged in some housework and chores. 

Caduceus has a few helpers, and it’s nice to teach other people how to cut vegetables, or how to season meals by feel. He finds himself repeating lots of words his parents told him, and it makes him wonder if his grandparents said the same things, and just how far back these things go. Is a recipe a legacy? Has he passed that along to these children here, who will carry it into the future? He hopes so. A little bit of the Clay family to be found, in the love of a warm meal across the land. That sounds nice. 

Fjord and Beauregard’s fight also sits heavy in his thoughts. It affirms that Caduceus isn’t the only one feeling hurt by Fjord wanting to leave them. And he’s not sure what kind of resolution the two of them came to— there was no answer, just tears, and a scuffle. It seems to Caduceus that the pain is still there, that the cut is still open, and he doesn’t know how to heal it. They should all be happy that Fjord has found his calling, that he’s going to influence so many lives like this. 

But perhaps, just as Caduceus has been hoping his good morals will rub off on the rest of the Mighty Nein, and they have, maybe some of the bad traits are rubbing off on him. He’s become selfish, and a little greedy. 

Beauregard’s fears seem so… so clear. She was upset for her loss, despite knowing that the gain the orphanage would be getting would be great. Was it right for her to think she was that important? 

Caduceus doesn’t think anyone is un-important, to be fair, but he also thinks that everyone is part of a bigger design. With all of that, is it okay for him to say that he’s sad about Fjord leaving them? That he doesn’t want Fjord to leave, solely because it will make Caduceus sad to say goodbye?

Well, really, they’ll be leaving Fjord. Caduceus has never left someone before. That will be a new experience too.

The Mighty Nein have all agreed to stay, for some time, to help Fjord get the orphanage on its feet. It seems like all of them want to draw this out, to have all of them together for a little longer. 

Fjord’s surprised by this. He’d assumed they would be gone quickly, after his announcement. He’s grossly underestimated just how much the group values him, and Caduceus is saddened by that. Especially now that he’s seen Fjord’s childhood home, and gotten a sense of the environment Fjord was raised in where he was unwanted and easily forgotten. 

Dinner is in high spirits. Melody and the rest of the children rescued on the trip from Nicodranas share immense relief upon hearing the Mighty Nein will be staying. Many of the original occupants of the Driftwood Asylum are excited by the change. 

As night comes, the children are herded into washing up and settled into bed. Beauregard, Jester and Caleb opt to stay the night at the Orphanage, considering they are expecting the possibility of another incident. Beauregard does complain about how much she misses her quiet, big hotel bed. Caduceus has come to learn that she does this when she means just the opposite, that she’s excited and happy to be here to help. He doesn’t quite understand it. 

Considering the children only just went to bed, and they’re expecting one or two stragglers to be unable to sleep, Fjord offers to take the first watch so he can put the kids back to bed. Caduceus, because this is how things go, stays with him. 

“It’s been a big day for you,” Caduceus remarks as he and Fjord make their way around the bottom floor to check all the windows and doors. 

Fjord huffs a laugh, “I’ll say. It… it’s been something, that’s for sure. I don’t even know what I’m doing and I keep digging myself deeper.”

“I think you’re doing great,” Caducus says.

Fjord shoots him a grateful look, “I’m glad you’re staying for a bit,” Fjord admits, “I— I know you have your family to get back to, but I— I really do appreciate your company.” 

“I like yours too,” Caduceus says honestly, and, for once, he feels a bit of a relief to the sinking sensation he’s had for days now, “I, uh, I do want to go home, but, I’ll admit I’m not looking to go home right away, you know?”

“More of the world to see,” Fjord agrees, and he looks a little sad as he says, “I know how that feels. I… I’m happy about this decision, but I… I still have regrets. I still want to travel.” 

“I want to travel with you,” Caduceus says, and wow, okay, that feels right. Fjord stops in surprise as Caduceus continues, “I— oh, well, I think you’re my best friend. It… I know we’ll part ways eventually but, wow, I’m not ready to do that yet.” 

“Me?” Fjord echoes, and he laughs like Caduceus made a joke. 

“Yeah,” Caduceus says, “I’ve never had one before. A best friend, I mean.”

“But all I do is ask you stupid questions,” Fjord protests, “I— I don’t even like tea. Why would I be your best friend? It doesn’t make sense!”

Caduceus has come to realize he may have missed out on a few important milestones, living alone for as long as he has, but he’s pretty sure people should be happy to hear they’re someone’s best friend. 

“I think you’re a good person,” Caduceus shrugs, “I like spending time with you.” 

“That can’t be it,” Fjord laughs, “because I’ve barely been good since we met.”

“I, well… I just like you,” Caduceus says. Is he supposed to be able to quantify things to have a best friend? He’s fairly certain that’s not how it works. 

“You can’t just like me,” Fjord insists, and his voice cracks, “you all— is this a prank? Are you, Beau, and the others? Are you trying to make fun of me?” 

“What?” Caduceus asks. 

“I just— I just want to know why everyone is being so nice to me,” Fjord whimpers, “because I can’t figure it out. First everyone volunteers to stay, and then Beau was actually upset about me leaving, and now you— you’re telling me you like me?”

Caduceus frowns, “Is that… is that hard to believe?” 

“Yes!” Fjord nearly shouts, “it’s— it’s ridiculous!”

“Why?” and now Caduceus feels like there’s a piece to this puzzle he’s missing.

“Because I’m me— I’m— I’m nobody!” Fjord says, “I’m not very smart, or strong, or funny, or skilled. I’m just… me. I’m average. What is there to like?”

Ah. There is is. 

“You don’t have to be—”

“I lie!” Fjord reminds him, “I lie all the time, so much that I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the time. I— I almost unleashed an evil god on the world, because I, I don’t know, I thought I would finally matter. I spent most of my life sailing, and I’m not even good at that! Caduceus you’re smart, you understand things, so tell me, please, why the fuck is everyone being so nice to me?” 

Caduceus waits to be sure Fjord’s said his piece. 

“Are you done?” he checks. 

Fjord nods, quiet. 

He reaches out and sets a firm hand on Fjord’s arm, where he can touch Fjord’s warm skin. Fjord leans into the touch. 

“You came back to a place that made you feel like you weren’t worth loving,” Caduceus says, “and you came back to change it. I think you’re very brave. And I can’t speak directly for everyone else, but I know they’re offering to stay because they like you. Because we like you. You’ve got friends, Fjord. You don’t have to be anything special— but you are, I hope you remember that— you just have to be you.”

Fjord’s breath hitches, and Caduceus looks at this man wreathed in flowers and thorns, and realizes the thorns were never for pushing others away, but to make Fjord feel safe. 

“Come here,” Caduceus says softly, and Fjord doesn’t hesitate to step into his space as much as Caduceus pulls him in. Fjord’s face fits snugly into Caduceus’ collar bone as Caduceus bends to wrap his arms tight around his friend, as Fjord’s fingers dig into his back to hold him tight. Caduceus thought he was doing this for Fjord, and only as Fjord hugs him back does Caduceus realize how badly he needed this kind of touch. The fear, the anger and the guilt chewing him up inside start to ease, like it was ice to be thawed. Winter gives way to spring, and Caduceus feels the possibility of new flowers to bloom. 

“Thank you, I— I don’t think I’ve ever truly had friends before,” Fjord says, and he seems almost reluctant to pull away, “isn’t that sad?” 

“No. I’ve never had a best friend before,” Caduceus agrees, “I’m glad it’s you.” 

Fjord smiles at that, and reaches out to pat Caduceus’ shoulder, “You’re way too nice to me.” 

“I think I could be nicer,” Caduceus says, and he feels proud when Fjord’s face flushes. 

“Caduceus?” Fjord’s hand grows heavy on him, “you’re one of my best friends too. I’m so glad we met.”

As things go, Caduceus had hoped for a quiet night. But he’s not surprised when Fjord shakes him awake. 

“Nott just messaged— we have company,” Fjord says. Caduceus doesn’t ask more questions, as the two of them quickly throw on their armor and make their way downstairs. 

“What are we looking at?” Fjord asks. 

Beau is crouched by one of the windows that has been boarded shut, and is peering between the cracks. She looks over her shoulder at Fjord’s voice. 

“A whole fucking party,” she announces, “like, they came for a big haul.”

That makes Caduceus feel sick. These people were going to come in and snatch children right out of their beds? He’s got strong opinions about the kind of people who would do that. 

From the dark expression on Fjord’s face, he feels the same. 

“Okay,” Fjord decides, “we need someone—”

“I have thread in the children’s room, and Frumpkin will alert me should anything unexpected happen,” Caleb interrupts him. Frumpkin leaps off of his shoulders with a mrow! and races up the stairs into the dark. 

“That’s great,” Fjord says, “now, I’m going to see if I can’t convince them to leave, but, I think it might come—” 

“I hope they want to fight,” Yasha growls, and she unsheathes her Skin Gorger blade. 

“We got your back,” Beauregard assures Fjord. 

“But talk first,” Caduceus agrees, “you’re good at that.”

Fjord smiles for him, “I’ll try, but I have to be sure they aren’t going to try this again.”

Fjord looks around like he wants to say something else, like it’s finally dawned on him that these people care about him and will do and have done all manner of things for him, but all he says, to the Mighty Nein gathered around and ready to fight for him, is, “Thank you.” 

Caduceus walks outside with Fjord, Beau, Jester and Yasha. Caleb waits, hidden behind the security of the boarded windows and Nott darts into the shadows of the yard. 

There’s a large group of men, at least a dozen if not more. It feels more like a mob. They’re travelling by torchlight, and appear to have brought a few horse-drawn carts. 

“Oh shit,” Beau grimaces, “more than I thought there were, sorry.”

Fjord walks a few paces ahead of the rest of them, and summons his sword in a brilliant flash of light. It draws a lot of attention.

“Gentlemen,” he calls into the dark, “this is three times now you’ve come to my house uninvited. I’d like that to stop.”

A man adorned in armor moves forwards. He’s carrying a large axe. It’s hard for Caduceus to make out details in the dark. 

“Your house, eh?” the man rumbles, “since when?” 

“Today, and for the foreseeable future,” Fjord says, “this house and these children are under my care. You’ll regret any action against them.”

“They can’t be paying you,” the man says, “this place is a dump. So what are you? Some knight in shining armor?” 

Caduceus feels a stir of energy in the air, and he sees the tell-tale crackling of energy above the caravan of mercenaries. He can picture Fjord’s terrifying face, from the way the leader takes a nervous step back. 

“A white knight?” Fjord asks with a laugh, with multiple voices that aren’t all his own, “oh, no. I’m something much worse.” 

And the air itself is torn apart as Fjord summons a demon right above mercenaries’ heads. 

The children get to sleep in the next day. By the time Caduceus realizes he should have started making breakfast, the Mighty Nein have finished getting rid of the evidence of the fight, and Fjord has convinced the city guards that they were responding to trespassers on his land, and the force used was absolutely appropriate.  Carla is certainly disappointed in them. Caduceus has come to accept that she’s the kind of person who likes to be disappointed all the time. Tabitha was lucky enough to sleep through the whole event. 

“It was a tiny bit dramatic,” Caleb teases Fjord as they all head back towards the house. Caduceus supposes that the joke here is that Caleb is shamelessly dramatic. He’s probably proud that his showmanship has rubbed off on Fjord. 

“It got the point across,” Fjord shrugs, “and the ones that got away will let the others know not to fuck with us.” 

“Look at you being all strategic,” Beau laughs, and punches Fjord in the arm. 

“You summoned a demon where there are children!” Nott scolds him. 

“Do you think people will think this place is haunted?” Jester muses, “what if we make it look like a creepy old house? Then we can scare everyone away.”

“But it is already a creepy old house,” Yasha reminds her. 

“No,” Caduceus cuts in, “it’s a lovely house, but it’s—”

“If you’re about to say ‘it’s home’,” Fjord cuts him off. 

Caduceus pauses, tries to think fast, and when he fails to come up with anything else, admits, “I thought it was a nice thing to say?” 

Fjord laughs, and he looks genuinely happy despite the bags under his eyes from being up all night, “No, you’re right. It was nice.” 

They make their way inside, just in time for the early risers— namely, Caduceus’ kitchen helpers, to be descending the stairs. 

“Dad!” Melody shouts, and rushes at them.

“Dude!” Beau laughs as Fjord freezes up at the title. 

“I have to get her to stop,” Fjord mutters, but he crouches down to catch Melody as she reaches them. 

“I’m teaching all of them to call you that,” Beau promises.

“I’ll make sure they all call you ‘Miss Lionett’,” Fjord threatens. Beau shudders in disgust. 

“I like ‘Uncle’,” Caduceus adds. 

Melody grins at him from Fjord’s arms. It’s such a stark contrast to the first day they’d found her, where she’d been terrified of seeing Caduceus over Fjord’s shoulder, that Caduceus feels a warm burst of pride at how far they’ve come. 

“Uncle Deuces,” she declares, pointing at him. 

“Miss Melody,” Caduceus greets. She kicks her feet in delight of her title. 

“Aw, man, that’s kinda cute,” Beau admits, “I could be Auntie Beau. Or Uncle Beau. I’m not picky.” 

“Get used to it,” Nott says, “once you get a nickname, it’s going to stick. And we’re all going by nicknames here.” 

“Like in prison?” Jester asks. 

“Exactly like prison,” Nott agrees. 

The group follows Caduceus to the kitchen. Caduceus could get used to this, to this activity and presence of people in his space. He likes how people brush up against him, how Fjord stands close enough to lean into because there’s such a crowd. Caduceus had never noticed how alone he was until recently. 

“Okay,” he decides, “breakfast. And then what’s the plan for today?”

“Yes, Captain,” Caleb says, “what is the grand plan?” 

Fjord looks nervous under the attention, and adjusts his grip on Melody. 

“There’s a lot of maintenance, and landscaping, and, um, well, there’s tutoring to be done, and getting proper clothes for everyone. It’s all busy work, really. And after that it’s just raising a bunch of kids.” 

“Yeah, we all turned out fine,” Beau says sarcastically, “we’re totally qualified to raise and influence babies.” 

“All it takes is some love,” Caduceus interrupts before Fjord can argue with her, “it’s just like cooking, right Melody? We just cook with love and—”

“And worms!” Melody shouts. 

Caduceus is surprised by the outburst, and the look on his face must be something incredible, because Fjord is unable to keep a straight face and starts laughing. It’s infectious, and maybe because they’re all exhausted from not sleeping, but soon everyone’s laughing. 

“There you have it,” Caduceus adjusts, “that’s all it takes. Love, and worms.”