Red Sky at Mornin'

Fjord wakes up from a nightmare. He’s no stranger to this, of course, but this time when he wakes it feels different. His brain feels fuzzy and he’s not thinking straight, having a hard time distinguishing between what is real and what isn’t. For once, Uk’otoa’s voice isn’t ringing through his head, and when he gasps and spits onto the stone next to him, there is no seawater – only drops of crimson blood from where his tusks bit through his lip. It takes another minute for the fuzziness to disappear and for Fjord to process where he is. His eyes adjust and he glances around the dark cell, remembering his capture and subsequent imprisonment by the Iron Shepherds. Jester lies a few feet away from him, her back turned to him. Fjord can’t tell whether or not she’s sleeping, but he’s relieved to see the steady rise and fall of her chest. Yasha isn’t there – she’d been taken from them when they first arrived and Fjord is doubtful that the Iron Shepherds will bring her back to the cell Fjord and Jester share.

Fjord sits up, blinking blearily. He’s still tired, but even though he barely remembers the details of his nightmare he remembers the fear that came with it and he’s sure he’ll have another nightmare if he tries to sleep. This place is not a friendly one, and he’s sure that he’ll remember it in his dreams long after they get out. If they get out.

Fjord tries to sit against the bars, even though they press into his back uncomfortably. He keeps watch over Jester, keeping his eyes and ears open for Yasha or any of their captors. It’s going to be a long night.

Fjord dreads the day that Uk’otoa and the Iron Shepherds cross paths in his dreams.

---

Fjord’s exhausted, and Jester’s not looking much better. They’ve lost all track of time, with no daylight or Keen Mind to clue them in on the outside world. Fjord’s tried to sleep a few more times to no avail – either he wakes with his heart racing, iron in his mouth and a fear so unsettling he can feel it (he never quite remembers what he was dreaming about but he counts that as a blessing), or far, far worse and increasingly frequent, he can’t sleep at all, the cold from the stone floor settling deep into his bones and every noise making him jump. It’s starting to become concerning. Fjord just wants to rest, but his body just won’t let him, his constant vigil a shield from whatever horrors his mind will create when he falls asleep.

Sometimes, in the cold, silent darkness, Fjord loses track of what’s real and what isn’t, drifting in the awful in between of sleep and wake.

There’s a soft sniffle to his right, but Fjord ignores it in favor of picking aimlessly at the frayed edge of his sleeve. Jester has been crying on and off, apparently unable to sleep as well. At first Fjord tried to comfort her and tell her that the others were coming, but now with hours (days? Weeks? Seconds?) of nothing even he’s not sure if they are. After a bit, Jester began hiding when she cried, cheeks coloring with shame as she wipes her eyes before Fjord can see. Fjord notices, he always notices, but he pretends not to give her some peace of mind.

After a particularly heart-wrenching sob, Fjord glances over at Jester just to make sure she was truly still pretending he couldn’t hear. She’s got her knees drawn up to her chest, face buried in her dress, and unbidden Fjord’s eyes start to water too.

He looks down again and begins to count the stones on the floor of their cell. Broken only by Jester’s sniffles, the silence is deafening.

---

They take Jester first. Fjord begins to scream. “Bring her back, fuckers!” he yells, but no amount of cussing stops them from dragging Jester out of the cell and out of sight. Fjord gets a slap in the face for his outburst, leaving him rubbing his cheek and grimacing. It was worth it, he thinks. Maybe Yasha heard. Now she knows we’re alive. Someone wails in response, clearly in pain, and he thanks every god he can think of that it doesn’t sound like Jester.

They eventually bring Jester back, shoving her into the cell and locking it before Fjord has time to lunge at them. Lorenzo grins at Fjord with yellowing teeth before disappearing around the corner.

Jester’s got her hands pressed to her side. Her dress is stained dark red beneath her fingers and her breathing is ragged and uneven.

Fjord’s first thought is incredibly selfish – it’s that Jester may be the only one he has left and to lose her is to be alone in here. Then his exhausted brain catches up with his thoughts (she’s not gone, she’s right there and she’s fucking hurt) and he scrambles up and whispers her name into the dark.

“Jester, what happened?” He tries to peel her hands away from her side to see the wound but she twists away.

“I’m fine,” she lies, shooting him a fake smile that looks unnatural even in the grayscale his darkvision supplies.

“Then put your hands down.”

Jester glares at him, but she carefully lowers her hands. “See? I’m very totally fine.” To prove her point, she wiggles her hips and starts performing the Macarena.

“Jes-" Fjord begins, but he stops abruptly when he sees Jester go pale and her dance sputter out. He reaches out to grab her before she passes out.

Jester leans forward and wraps her arms around him, putting her cheek against the grimy breastplate of Fjord’s armor.

“Are you okay?” Fjord whispers, trying again. He holds her tightly, still afraid she’s going to fall unconscious any second and hit the cold floor.

Jester’s more honest this time. “No,” she answers. “But it’s also like, not that bad. It could have been worse you know.”

Fjord just nods in response, not really wanting to picture what worse looks like. He carefully maneuvers them both to the ground, Jester clinging to him all the way down. He ends up sitting with her tucked between his legs, her head under his chin. “Do you have Cure Wounds prepared?”

“Yeah.” He can feel her nodding. “But I don’t want to use it in case we need it later.”

Fjord understands immediately what she’s implying. If they don’t get any rest, they can’t regain spells. Fjord still hasn’t regained any his spells from their capture, undoubtedly due to his inability to sleep. Then again, if they don’t get any rest they can’t heal, either. “Use it,” he commands.

“No. What if you need it later Fjord?”

“Please use it. I’ll be alright.”

Jester moves so that he can see her face. Even in the low light, he can see the indignation flashing in her eyes. She opens her mouth, but Fjord cuts her off before she can make her rebuttal.

“If I need it later, then you can look after me. You can’t take care of me if you’re also injured.”

Jester closes her mouth, still clearly thinking up an argument.

“Please, Jessie,” Fjord tries one last time. “I’m worried you’re not gonna heal.”

Jester says nothing, but she does curl up against him once more, and Fjord can hear the familiar muttering and see the familiar pink light as she heals herself.

“Thank you,” he says, trying to keep his voice mild so as to not convey his worry. Jester only responds with a humph, apparently still unsatisfied with the way that played out. She doesn’t move out of his hold, however, and Fjord makes no move to let her go, either.

---

Fjord doesn’t wake up with blood in his mouth again, but he does wake up with blood on chin, which feels raw and torn up. Something hits his chin again, and Fjord mumbles “ow, Jester, your horns – watch it,” before he can comprehend what he’s saying. There’s a beat of silence before Fjord’s eyes shoot open, because oh gods, Jester is in his lap. Jester fucking Lavorre is in his lap, and she’s drooling on his chest a little bit as she snores softly, and his arms are around her waist and their legs are tangled together and -

There’s the sound of footsteps somewhere down the hall, and Fjord automatically pulls Jester closer as he waits for them to fade away. Fjord quickly gathers his thoughts, remembering their situation and the conversation that led to Jester falling asleep on him. He carefully checks her side, trying not to wake her, and he’s rewarded with the sight of unbroken, unblemished blue skin hiding beneath the still bloodied and torn dress. It looks the healing spell and the rest did her well.

Fjord sits back against the wall, ignoring the way his shoulders scream at him, and he calmly waits for Jester to wake up.

When she does, he’s greeted with a wide yawn and a “good morning Fjord!” before Jester untangles herself from him, apparently unperturbed by their sleeping arrangement.

“How you feeling?”

“Much better!” Jester twists her torso, testing her side. “I think I’m all healed up.”

“Good, you slept okay?”

“Yup! Which is like totally weird because I feel like I haven’t been able to sleep since we got here. I kept having bad dreams, you know?”

Jester does look healthier – not only has her side healed, but the bags beneath her eyes have lessened slightly and some color has returned to her cheeks. It’s nice to see her up and talking to him rather than pretending she’s fine when she was clearly not. “I know what you mean,” Fjord says. “I had a few nightmares too. But after a while they went away because suddenly I stopped being able to sleep at all.” Fjord’s not sure what prompts his sudden honesty, but he keeps going, scrambling to put the odd exhaustion that’s been following him the past few days into words. “It’s like … my brain knows I’m not going to sleep anyway so it won’t let me. Every noise keeps me awake. Even when it’s quiet I’m awake, just in case something comes.”

Jester looks at him, wide eyed. “Fjord that’s horrible! I didn’t know you weren’t sleeping.”

He shrugs. “Didn’t want to worry you. Besides, I’d rather that than have nightmares.”

“Don’t you get tired?”

“Of course. Doesn’t matter. I reckon that until we get out of here I won’t be able to sleep.”

“But you slept okay just now, right?” Fjord considers this and is stunned to realize that yes, he did. He had been so preoccupied with waking up to Jester on top of him that he never realized how unusual it was to waking up at all. He’d drifted off as soon as Jester had cuddled up to him, her body warm and real and alive, a tether to the real world. Something about her felt safe, literally felt safe, and his brain finally relaxed enough to let him sleep.

Well fuck. This was new. Fjord’s not sure what happened, or why his subconscious seemed to decide that Jester was familiar enough to be absolutely vulnerable around, but he’s not complaining either. Fjord feels well-rested for the first time since arriving at the Sour Nest.

Fjord chews up on his lip, considering his next words carefully. His tusks scrape against the inside of his mouth. He doesn’t want to imply anything, especially given Jester’s consistent fascination with Tusk Love. If she calls him Oscar, he’s going to regret this, majorly. “Yeah, I – I did. I think … maybe it was you. I knew I had someone with me, so it was easier to sleep. I mean, I know that you’ve always been here, but it was real nice to feel you there, too. My brain or subconscious or whatever thought that it felt safe. And then I didn’t have any dreams or anythin’. But sleeping with you was good.” Before Jester can say anything, he rushes on. “I mean next to you. And I don’t mean this in like a romantic way or – not that I’m opposed but this was just ….” Fjord trails off, avoiding saying anything else stupid by rubbing the back of his head.

To her credit, Jester’s next words are soft and understanding. “You know, my momma hires a lot of people to help her get ready for her shows and stuff. One of them, her name is Nadine, she can’t sleep unless she’s got someone with her too. I used to see her taking naps with all the other ladies all the time. I asked my momma and she said it just made Nadine feel better.” The footsteps echo through the building again, and Jester pauses before lowering her voice. “I think she saw something really scary when she was little – I heard her talking about it once. Maybe I should ask her the next time I see her?”

Fjord starts to whisper as well. “That sounds like a mighty personal question, Jester. I wouldn’t ask if I were you. But … I appreciate you telling me about Nadine. Glad I’m not just goin’ crazy.”

“Of course Fjord! It’s totally okay to need to have someone with you, this is a spooky place.” As if they heard her, a scream bounces off the stone walls, causing them both to flinch. It’s a man’s voice, thankfully. They have yet to see or hear Yasha.

Jester scoots next to Fjord, brushing their shoulders together. “Besides,” she whispers. “I needed you to sleep, too. We’re helping each other out.”

That’s true, Fjord thinks, marveling at how easily Jester was able to accept and describe what was going on with them. He throws an arm over Jester’s shoulders and thinks about how happy he is not to be alone.

---

They fall into a steady routine, sleeping in shifts while the other keeps watch, always wrapped around each other or pressed against each other. Even when they’re not sleeping, they’re cuddled up against each other, the shared body heat battling the cold of the stone around them and keeping them entertained with nothing much else to do. Even now, Fjord sits against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him as Jester lies sprawled on his thighs, staring intently at the floor as she tries to scratch a crude penis into the stone with her nail. She’s not getting far.

While they mostly try to keep quiet, they have whispered conversations about their health, their sanity, their survival. Jester has only been preparing healing spells, ready for the day the Iron Shepherds stop playing around messing with their minds, instead hurting to kill. So far, they have been stealing them away only to bloody them up and toss them back, playing with their sense of desperation and fear which grows stronger each day without rescue or escape. Fjord and Jester aren’t sure how much longer they will survive – although they’re being fed, the food is only just enough and every injury is getting harder to recover from.

Fjord watches as Jester carefully outlines the testicles, leaving no mark but swirling the dust. He thinks about Yasha, somewhere in this hellish fortress, hopefully alive. He thinks about his friends, of Molly, of Vandran, of Uk’otoa, of home. The last topic stumps him – he starts by thinking about Port Damali, but what he really ends up thinking about is a collection of bedrolls all spread around a campfire, the sharing of jerky that’s gods know how old, and a cart pulled by a handful of horses named after toilets. Fjord can picture them now, likely searching for the other half of their party. He can see the high arcs of Nott’s arrows and can hear the sounds of Beau’s fists as they connect with flesh. He can feel the power of a wall of fire and a bite behind a blood malediction, Caleb and Molly together a terrifying and awe-inspiring combination.

A sudden sense of pride fills Fjord as he pictures his friends tearing towns apart to find them. For the first time in a while, he feels hope. Their friends are coming for them, Fjord is sure of it. They would make it home.

---

The next time the Iron Shepherds take Fjord, they switch up their usual routine, swapping their standard blades and fists for magic. At first, the spells don’t do any major damage - they’re just painful and annoying. Then a Ray of Sickness hits him, and Fjord can feel his body fighting against the spell before finally giving in, his brain going a little fuzzy with the beginning telltale signs of poison.

Another Ray of Sickness hits him, and Fjord doubles over, vomiting onto the ground.

“Disgusting,” he hears someone sneer as he’s roughly hoisted off the ground. “Looks like that’s enough for today. Take ‘im back to his girlfriend.”

Be it the poison clouding his judgment, the slight at Jester, or just sheer hunger-driven stupidity, Fjord decides to fight back, swinging a fist into the face of the man gripping his arm. There’s a loud crack as his jaw shatters. The woman next to him hits Fjord with another fucking Ray of Sickness, and Fjord’s on his knees again, black spots dancing in front of his eyes. Someone grabs his chin and forces him to look up, but when they start screaming at him the words sound garbled and he can’t really pay attention.

They give him one good slap across the face before roughly shoving his wrists into a pair of manacles. Huh. That’s a first.

They head back to the cell, the two dragging Fjord in between them. There’s a gasp when the reach the door. Fjord can’t quite focus on Jester, but he’s sure she’s probably a little panicked. He’s undoubtedly a sight to behold; shackled, a little bruised, and heavily supported by two Shepherds since he can’t walk in a straight line. They open the door and dump him unceremoniously on the ground before relocking it and stalking away.

A blue blur above Fjord tells him that Jester has definitely noticed his state.

“What happened?” Jester whispers, cupping a gentle hand around his cheek. Fjord turns and presses his face into it, collecting his thoughts for a moment.

When Fjord doesn’t immediately answer, Jester raises her other hand and even in his foggy state Fjord recognizes the telltale crackle in the air of healing magic. “Don’t,” he coughs out, and his voice sounds sharp and eerie in the quiet.

Jester freezes.

“Ray of …” he trails off, the word sickness seeming too long and complicated to try and spit out. He struggles to remember what he needs to communicate. “I need – not Cure, Cure Wounds but –"

“Oh!” the blue blur above him exclaims. Jester puts her hands on his chest and the world comes back into sharp focus, leaving Fjord still dizzy but feeling better than before. The Lesser Restoration seeps into him, and he’s incredibly grateful that Jester figured out what he was trying to say.

Fjord sits up, wincing and coughing.

“Are you still hurt?” Jester hovers next to him, unsure and attentive.

“No I’m – I’m good, Jester. Thank you.” He’s not great, but at least he’s a little better, and right now Fjord just wants to sleep it off. He flashes her a small smile, but she’s still looking at him funny.

“Did you know that you sound different when you’re poisoned?” Jester blurts.

“I – What?”

“Yeah. You sounded like …” Jester scrunches her face as she tries to recreate the voice. “Like this. I’m Fjord and I’ve been poisoned and I sound like this.”

Fuck. It’s nowhere near accurate, but Fjord can tell it’s his voice. His true, real accent. “Now that’s ridiculous, Jester,” Fjord says, thinking fast. “You must have been hearing things.”

“Maybe,” Jester says, but her eyes don’t leave his and there’s an unsaid understanding between them that Jester knows and even though she’s going to let it go and pretend it never happened she also won’t forget.

Fjord coughs in order to break the eye contact. “Those fuckin’ bastards,” he mutters, laying the accent just a bit thicker than normal. He lies back down.

“Did you see Yasha?” Jester asks.

Guilt colors Fjord’s cheeks. “No, I – I didn’t see much of anything.”

“That’s okay,” Jester smiles down at him, but she quickly looks back up and scans the hallway outside of their cell as if Yasha would just appear in front of them.

Fjord tries to close his eyes but he feels the all-too-familiar anxiety creep up his throat. He cracks them open again. “Jester?” he asks.

She hums in response, not taking her eyes off of the wall in front of them.

“Could you, uh –" and suddenly he’s embarrassed to ask her, even though this has been their routine for a while and he needs her to sleep and to heal.

Jester finally tears her gaze away from the emptiness in front of them, and she smiles down at Fjord once again, soft and genuine. “Of course, Fjord,” she replies, and she curls up against his side, pillowing her head on his chest and haphazardly throwing a leg over his. It’s intimate, it’s mildly uncomfortable, but the sheer relief of having someone pressed against him is enough for him to close his eyes and drift off.

---

When Fjord wakes, he doesn’t feel Jester next to him. His brain is still in sleep mode, and there’s a moment of panic until he opens his eyes and sees her standing nearby, clutching the bars and staring at nothing again.

“Jess?” Fjord asks, propping himself up. His stomach rolls and arms shake (three fucking Rays of Sickness, it’s a wonder he’s even awake), but he makes his way into a sitting position regardless.

“Something’s happening.” Jester keeps her voice quiet, so Fjord follows her lead, shutting his mouth and listening. He hears something, clanging of metal and shouting of voices, and it grows louder and louder until there’s a bang and cheering and it quiets down again. Jester is still gripping the bars, her face splitting into a large grin as if she knew something he didn’t. The noise aggravates Fjord’s headache, but he tries his best to focus and brace himself for whatever comes next.

The first two people he sees are a buff dwarf and a lanky firbolg. The combination is so odd that Fjord wonders if he never truly woke up – either that, or his brain had finally succumbed to this horrifying place and he was straight up hallucinating. The firbolg’s eyes go wide when he sees them, and the dwarf turns to shout something over her shoulder.

Immediately, three more people run in, and, well, if this was a hallucination then at least Fjord’s brain was kind enough to show him his friends. There’s the smell of fire and char in the air, undoubtedly the work of Caleb. He too stops when he sees Fjord and Jester, eyes wide, until Beau rushes behind him, muscles bulging and ribbons flying. She pushes him and together they continue to rush forward. Despite them, Nott gets there first, appearing out of nowhere and slipping between them, tossing her crossbow aside and immediately grabbing the lock on the door.

Everyone is shouting, Jester is saying something, but it all sounds like noise to Fjord as he sits there, unable to stand with both his manacled wrists and weakened state.

The next person to round the corner is Shakaste of all people, and Fjord is further convinced that this isn’t real. There’s no way.

The lock snaps and the door swings open. Jester is immediately bowled over, arms full of Nott. Caleb and Beau drop to Fjord’s level. Their mouths are moving, and their eyebrows are pinching together, clearly becoming more and more concerned with Fjord’s lack of response.

He wants to answer them, he really does, but there’s blood rushing in his ears and he feels sick and they’re not fucking real –

Jester’s tail wraps around Fjord’s ankle at the same time Caleb and Beau reach for him. He knows theses touches – Jester’s touch is comforting and familiar, a constant from the past few days. Beau’s hand on his shoulder is the same warm hand that pats him on the shoulder when she’s trying to crack a bad joke. It’s the same hand she puts on his shoulder when she’s not quite tall enough to see and she’s using Fjord to help her balance. Caleb’s blunt nails scratch him lightly, in the same way they do when he hands Fjord something or when he grips Fjord’s wrist while looking through Frumpkin’s eyes. Now, Caleb’s slender fingers make deft work of the manacles, unlocking them with a little magic.

The world comes into clearer focus for the second time that day. They’re real. He’s safe. He’s going home.

“Fancy seein’ you here,” Fjord grins at them. Caleb immediately smiles back, visibly relieved, and Beau lets out a breathy laugh.

“Fuck, man,” she says.

Fuck indeed. They’re going home.

Fjord doesn’t look back when they leave the now wrecked Iron Shepherd fortress. Jester, however, does, the jewelry on her horns catching the sun as she turns around. Fjord refuses to look, instead keeping his eyes on the road in front of the cart. Beside them, Yasha lies asleep, alive but enchanted. Not anywhere near ideal, but better than the alternative.

Fjord pulls his cloak tighter despite the heat. The chill of the cell has yet to leave to leave his bones, even though he has since been fully healed by their new cleric.

It’s not until they get back to Zadash several days later that Fjord finally admits that something is very, very wrong. He hasn’t been sleeping – still, even though he’s safe and back with his friends, the Iron Shepherds long gone. While they were on the road finishing tasks for the Gentleman, it was easier to brush aside his sleepless nights as one-offs, brought about by the often uncomfortable conditions of travel and the general restless energy that comes from battle after battle. Granted, nearly every night has been a one-off. Now in the tranquility of a small inn, Fjord realizes that he’s run out of excuses.

Fjord stands alone in his and Caduceus’s room, his roommate off doing some shopping. The bed behind him taunts him, but Fjord knows that if he tries to sleep he’ll just end up staring at the ceiling, worrying at every sound until he eventually passes out from sheer exhaustion, sleeping for only hour before a nightmare wakes him up.

He takes the moment of privacy to pull out his disguise kit, bought the moment they got back into town. He fixes the dark circles marring his face, flinching as some of the green powder gets into his eyes. Using spells to change his appearance would be too taxing.

There are voices outside the door. Fjord flings the disguise kit under the bed just as Caduceus comes inside, flanked closely by Jester. They’re in deep discussion about herbal medicine, and they both barely acknowledge Fjord before turning towards each other, Jester extremely animated while Caduceus watches her with bright eyes.

Fjord gives the clerics their space and heads out. He’s shocked that Jester is doing so well after their kidnapping – it’s all the more embarrassing for him, who just can’t seem to recover. If Jester had also not been sleeping, Fjord would have asked her to sleep with him. He had already planned out the way he was going to ask; he would approach it as though he were only helping Jester, not himself, and Jester would look at him with an expression that reads ‘I know you’re lying but I won’t make you say anything,’ and all would be well. But instead, she’s …. Fine.

There’s a commotion coming from an open door down the hallway that sounds suspiciously like a frazzled Caleb trying to shove all his books in his holster at once. Fjord heads out before anyone else can see him.

Fjord stumbles out of the inn and onto the streets of Zadash. He hopes a good jog around the city would tire him out enough to put him to sleep.

It doesn’t.

---

Fjord really, really knows he can’t keep going on like this when he drops a plate the next morning. It shatters on impact, pieces sliding across the tavern floor. Caleb flinches, but Jester and Beau laugh. The whole ordeal is resolved in seconds – Jester casts Mending on the plate, the bartender rushes over with a new plate of food, and Caduceus pulls out a chair so that Fjord can sit down. Conversation about the day’s plans start up again.

Fjord’s about to take his first bite when he gets the feeling that someone is staring at him. To his surprise, his eyes find Nott’s, but when Fjord raises an eyebrow she doesn’t back down, unabashedly starring. It takes Caleb asking her a question for her to rip her gaze away.

Fjord’s not sure what that’s about. Yes, he did waste a plate of food, but Nott’s never reacted like that to food before. He shrugs it off and digs in. When he heads back upstairs to grab his bag, he can feel someone staring at his retreating back. When Fjord turns around, Nott’s staring him down once again.

‘What?’ he mouths. Nott’s lamplike eyes narrow, but she doesn’t say anything back. Fjord heads upstairs.

---

The next time he sees Nott, she’s coming back from a “walk” with Jester. Fjord’s pretty sure the two of them were coming back from another unsuccessful heist – either Nott had convinced Jester to help her pickpocket strangers or Jester had convinced Nott to go deface a temple. Regardless, their little adventure clearly had not gone well. Jester’s face is dark and blotchy, and she’s got Nott’s hand gripped tightly in hers. Nott also looks visibly upset, eyes shining with unshed tears. Thankfully, neither of them look hurt.

“Ladies,” Fjord greets them with a nod, trying to squeeze past them in the narrow inn hallway. It’s better not to ask. So long as there are no Crownsguard coming after them, Fjord doesn’t really care what kind of trouble they cause.

“Hi Fjord!” Jester says in that overly bright voice she uses when she’s hiding something.

Nott says nothing as he passes, just looks him up and down as if cataloguing everything he’s wearing. Fjord’s glad he used the disguise kit this morning.

Unnerved, Fjord rushes downstairs.

---

He doesn’t see Nott again until the next night, thanks to Fjord’s careful evasion strategies. It’s a drinking kinda night, which meant that everyone (save for Caduceus and Jester, their resident milk drinkers) met after dark and got absolutely sloshed.

Fjord meets his friends at their latest tavern of choice. When he arrives only Beau is there, double fisting two giant mugs of ale. It started the first night they all went out – she bought a drink in honor of Yasha, left it on the table, and then when the night was over she finished Yasha’s drink off, a nod to their missing barbarian. Fjord’s not sure what Beau intended with this, especially since Yasha wasn’t gone forever, just taking some well-deserved time to herself. Regardless Beau’s tradition has morphed into drinking twice as much to make up for Yasha’s lack of presence.

Fjord heads to the counter and orders the same thing. While Beau drinks for Yasha, Fjord drinks his second drink for Molly. His old roommate would have known how to help Fjord. Grief tightens Fjord’s chest. He chugs Molly’s drink then throws back his own before ordering two more.

By the time Nott and Caleb show up, Fjord and Beau are more than a little tipsy. They cheer when the others open the door, drawing the attention of several annoyed patrons.

“What are you doing here?” Nott hisses at Fjord as they sit down.

“What?”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Nott, I’m an adult. I don – don’t have a bedtime.” He hiccups in the middle of his sentence and beside him Beau snorts into her drink. “’Scuse me.”

Nott’s infuriatingly silent, pursing her lips instead of answering. Caleb goes to get them drinks.

Fjord avoids talking to Nott for the rest of the night, instead talking to Caleb about magic and occasionally arm wrestling with Beau. The night is going well until Beau suddenly reaches out to Caleb, gripping his shoulder in a way that makes him wince.

“Yo Caleb, I’m – I’m totally gonna vomit. Come outside with me.”

Caleb blanches. “Wha – why me? Have Nott go with you!”

“No way. What if I like, pass out on the ground or something? Nott can’t lift me. I mean you can’t either but like at least you’re proportional.”

“Fjord then!”

“Are you kidding? He’s just as fucked as I am.”

That was true. Fjord’s own stomach is churning and his drink keeps blurring in and out of focus.

“If you get anything on me, Beauregard, I swear I –"

“Caleb,” she interrupts. “We’ve got like 30 fucking seconds. Let’s move.”

Caleb scrambles up and puts Beau’s arm around his shoulders. Together, they stagger to the door.

Shit. That leaves Fjord and Nott. Fjord lifts his drink – Molly’s drink – to take another swig.

“Stop,” Nott commands, snatching the drink out of his hands. Fjord’s reflexes are also fucked, both from alcohol and from exhaustion, so Nott grabs the drink with ease. “You’ve had way too much, Fjord.”

“Since when have you been such a mother hen?” Fjord narrows his eyes at her, trying to refocus his doubling vision. “And since when have you cared about how much people drink? You have a bottomless fuckin’ flask.”

“Stop looking at me like that!”

“This is the way you’ve been lookin’ at me all fuckin’ day, Nott.” Thoroughly irritated, Fjord makes a swipe for his stolen drink, missing by a long shot.

“Stop it!” Nott shrieks, and in the back of his mind Fjord is glad that the bar has mostly cleared out by now, those remaining also too drunk to pay them any attention. “Why are you doing this! You’re just as bad as Caleb – why don’t you boys take any care of yourselves!”

Dumbfounded, Fjord just looks at her. This conversation has taken an unexpected turn and Fjord’s having a hard time keeping up.

“When’s the last time you’ve slept, Fjord? What are you up doing every night?” Crap. So someone had noticed. Nott plows on. “If you want to be all secretive and mysterious and worship your weird sea god or some shit you can do that, but don’t pretend like you’re not out all night and then act like nothing is wrong! You’re going to run yourself into the ground!”

“I don’t worship –“ Fjord begins, but then shakes his head. That’s not important right now. “I’m fine, Nott. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then use a spell!” Nott challenges. “I dare you! Eldritch Blast me right fucking now, I dare you.” Nott stands on the chair. “Look, I’m a nice easy target for you.” Nott begins to hop up and down, fuming, and Fjord is reminded of Jester’s Macarena. There’s something manic in her glare, and Fjord suddenly understands why enemies are so afraid of Nott when she tells them jokes, regardless of whether Tasha’s Hideous Laughter has been cast or not. It’s all in her smile, a smile that implies both a punchline and a threat.

Nott gives him finger guns. “Come on, big boy,” she taunts. “Blast the shit outta me, I know you want to. Hit me baby one mo–"

Fjord reaches out a trembling arm, even though he knows he has no spells to use. “Nott, don’t make me fuckin’ do this. I do not want to cause any trouble.”

Nott jumps harder, the chair underneath her threatening to break. “Then tell the truth, Fjord. Are you up doing weird shit all night or is something else going on?”

Fjord sways on his feet, and he knows he wouldn’t be able to hit Nott in this state even if he could cast a spell. Fjord drops his arm, gripping the edge of the table as the room spins. “’m not doing … I just can’t sleep,” he chokes out. “I can’t sleep. I have no spells.”

To his surprise, Nott stops dancing immediately, and the look she gives him is open and full of pity. “Eldritch Blast is a cantrip, Fjord.” Well fuck. Somewhere in the back of his mind Fjord definitely knew that. Nott sits back down and leans forward, gripping Fjord’s hand in hers. “Jester said you weren’t sleeping when you were in the Sour Nest. Have you slept at all since we left?” She speaks softly, adopting a bedside manner so unlike Nott, and it’s so unexpectedly gentle that Fjord feels like crying. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I didn’t want anyone fussing over me,” Fjord admits.

“It’s not fussing, Fjord, we care about you, okay? You can tell us these things! Jester’s been worried sick about you and you would have fucking died of exhaustion before we figured out something was wrong.” The old Nott is creeping back into her voice, her frustration evident. She lets go of Fjord’s hand and pushes his drink back to him. “If we’re really doing this group thing then we have to be more honest with each other. We may be assholes sometimes but even assholes take care of their friends, okay?”

“Cheers to being an asshole,” someone slurs behind them, and they turn to see Beau grinning at them, apparently just missing Fjord’s admission.

Caleb looks a lot less happy. “Ah, we should get going before the neighbors of this tavern find their garden. Vomit does not make for good potting soil.”

“Beau, you are absolutely disgusting!” Nott exclaims, but there’s a note of pride and awe to her voice.

They make their way out of the tavern and stumble back to the inn. Nott doesn’t say anything else, too preoccupied with keeping an eye on a drunk Beau. Fjord follows Caleb, mesmerized by the way his scarf flutters in the wind, his conversation with Nott already half forgotten.

Fjord tries to keep quiet as he sneaks into his room, but Caduceus rolls over anyway. Fjord waits for his roommate’s breathing to even out before he carefully tiptoes to his bed. “Sorry, ‘Duceus,” he whispers, probably far too loud. There’s an uninterested grunt but otherwise Caduceus remains silent.

Fjord hits the pillow and promptly passes out.

---

When he wakes, Fjord can tell it wasn’t true sleep. He simply blacked out, but it’s the most rest Fjord has had in a while so he takes it as a win. The sun is already making its way through the sky, which means he had been out for almost three hours. He thinks. It is very hard to remember what happened last night – in fact, Fjord can’t remember getting back at all. He stumbles to the bathroom, thankful for his orc blood that sobered him up fairly quickly.

Downstairs, Caduceus and Nott share breakfast. Fjord freezes in the entryway, his eyes on Nott. He knows he went out with Nott last night, and he vaguely remembers being a dick and avoiding her. He heads over and greets them with a few ‘good mornings.’

“Listen, Nott,” Fjord begins. “I wanted to apologize for last night. It was mighty rude of me to ignore you like that.”

Nott gives him a sharped-toothed smile. “Anything else?”

“Uh.” Fjord runs the back of his head, fingers ghosting over the short sides. “No?” He hopes he hadn’t said or done anything too stupid, but everything after a certain time is gone from his memory.

Nott shares a meaningful look with Caduceus.

Fjord takes the hint. “I apologize for wakin’ you last night, ‘Duceus.”

“No harm done.” Caduceus smiles at him, mild as ever, and pulls a chair out for Fjord.

Nott gets up, muttering something about buying supplies for Caleb. She gives another hard look to Caduceus, apparently not satisfied with Caduceus’s response. Fjord’s just glad she’s picked a new target.

More food arrives, and Fjord sits down, still slightly groggy. Fjord and Caduceus eat in comfortable silence, Fjord stealing the sausages off of the firbolg’s plate and scraping the vegetables off of his own plate onto Caduceus’s.

The next person to arrive is Beau, who looks thoroughly hungover. She’s still in her robes from yesterday, and she wrinkles her nose at the smell of breakfast. She drops down in the seat next to Fjord. A smattering of dark bruises on her jaw catches his eye.

“Why’s your face uglier than usual?” he comments. He doesn’t remember Beau getting into a bar fight last night, but then again, there’s a lot he doesn’t remember.

“Why’s your face uglier than – hey!”

Fjord touches her cheek, carefully avoiding the bruises, and he gently moves her head to face him so that he can get a better look.

Beau deflates when she realizes what he’s looking at. “Oh, that,” she says. “Yeah, I woke up before Jester this morning so she hasn’t been able to heal me yet.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Fjord responds. Beau waves him off, clearly unbothered by her appearance, and she instead starts to describe the dingy tavern from the other night to Caduceus who listens patiently.

Jester and Caleb arrive around the same time. Caleb looks a lot better than Beau, but he too collapses into a chair, putting his head in his hands and groaning when Caduceus asks him how his night was.

Jester immediately beelines to Beau, putting a hand on her chin. “Sorry, Beau! You got up like only five minutes before me but when I tried to look for you you were already gone!” Jester’s magic flows through her fingertips and the bruises on Beau immediately disappear.

Fjord’s about to interrupt again – does Jester not care why Beau was showing up to breakfast all banged up? but before he can say anything Beau scoops Jester into a hug.

“Thanks, Jessie,” she says, and Fjord’s fascinated by the smooth way Beau slides her chin into the place between Jester’s horns, as if they have done this a thousand times before.

Fjord’s fork clatters to the ground. Caleb jumps and Caduceus immediately asks if he’s alright. Fjord doesn’t answer, staring at Beau and Jester even as Jester scrambles for the fallen utensil.

They have done this before. Suddenly Fjord understands why Jester was fine when he felt like he was fucking dying. Fjord feels a sense of hope and relief that he hasn’t felt since the first night Jester slept with him, back in the cell. He’s not alone, and he’s not the only one struggling. Jester slept with Beau. Jester sleeps with Beau, and the two of them have probably been doing it every night, Fjord too preoccupied with his own sleeplessness to notice. The bruises on Beau’s chin – that could only come from sleeping with a shorter tiefling wrapped around your front, resting their head on your chest. Fjord’s been there before. He’s done that before.

Fjord comes back to his senses. He accepts the fork Jester is holding out to him, and he shoots an “I’m alright, ‘Ducey, thanks,” to Caduceus. Caduceus looks back at him with an expression Fjord can’t quite place. It looks like pity, but he doesn’t know his new roommate well enough to be sure.

Fjord pushes the rest of his plate towards Beau. “You should eat something,” he says, and he gets up and leaves the table. He’ll talk to Jester later, he promises himself. Things will get better.

---

Around midday, the opportunity to catch Jester alone arises. Caleb drags Beau to the library, and Jester declines a shopping trip with Caduceus, telling him that she would rather stay in and draw.

Fjord waits about ten minutes after everyone leaves to go and knock on Jester’s door.

Jester answers immediately. “Oh, hi Fjord!” she exclaims, stepping aside to let him in. There are paints and paintbrushes scattered all over the floor. Fjord feels a little bad that he’s interrupting her free time, but he needs to talk to her. He needs to, or he might not make it through the week.

“What can I help you with?” Jester’s looking at him expectantly.

“I, uh –" Fjord stops, unsure of how to continue. He decides to just spit it out. “Are you and Beau sleepin’ together?”

To his surprise, Jester bursts out laughing. “Me and Beau? That’s super not true – who told you that? Did Beau tell you that? I bet she told you that so you wouldn’t think she has a crush on Yasha. Which she totally does, you know? I mean, have you seen the way she looks at Yasha? Beau thinks she’s super super sexy.” Jester pauses to breathe, then plows on. “But don’t tell Beau I told you that. I think she wants it to be a secret, even though everyone knows. Besides, why would Beau and I be having sex? I don’t like girls like Beau does, even though Beau is really really pretty –"

“Jester,” Fjord interrupts, holding up a hand to stop her before she can go any further. “That’s not what I meant. Do you and Beau sleep in the same bed?”

“Of course we do! We’re roommates.”

Well, that just made things more confusing. “Have you always done that?”

“No, only after – you know,” Jester says. Her tail droops a little, and Fjord knows exactly what she’s about to say. “The Iron Shepherds and everything. Beau helps me sleep. I need to know that there’s someone with me, you know?”

Fjord does know. He knows very well. “So you’re still havin’ nightmares?”

Jester nods. “But only if Beau isn’t with me. So I haven’t had any in a while. That’s okay though. It happens. What happened back there was really scary.”

“Yeah,” Fjord exhales, closing his eyes. It’s okay not to have come out of it okay, he reminds himself. It’s okay to ask for help.

“You’re sleeping now though, right?”

Without opening his eyes, Fjord shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Oh Fjord,” Jester breathes. He’s glad he can’t see her face. “And you haven’t told anyone? Caduceus or Caleb or Beau or anyone?”

“Yup.”

Fjord opens his eyes when he feels hands touching his face. “No wonder you’ve been looking so horrible,” Jester comments, pulling her hands back and inspecting the green powder on her fingers. “I have a disguise kit too, you know,” she says in response to his unasked question. “But I couldn’t figure out what you were hiding.” She grabs his hands and looks up at him, studying every shadow on his face as if committing it to memory.

This should be intimate, Fjord thinks, sexual even, standing in Jester’s bedroom as she holds his hands and touches his face and worries about him. But it’s … not, and Fjord is suddenly eternally grateful for Jester, who takes every opportunity to make a dick joke and flirt with people but in the moments he needs her to be she’s nothing more than a loyal, good friend who just wanted him happy.

She starts to walk backwards, pulling him towards her bed. Beau’s bed? Their bed.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re taking a nap,” she says, and the way she says it is soft yet commanding and Fjord has no choice but to follow her and lie down. Jester fusses with the blankets a moment then slides into bed next to him, throwing her arm around his body and pillowing her head on his chest. “Sleep, Fjord,” she whispers. “I’m not gonna go anywhere.”

Fjord does.

He wakes to Beau’s voice, coming from outside the door to Jester’s bedroom. Caleb is with her, voice much softer but still there, and for one terrifying moment Fjord thinks that they’re both about to plow into the room and find Fjord in Jester’s bed. Instead, the voices grow quieter and quieter, apparently headed to Caleb’s room first.

Fjord’s sure that Beau will be back. For once, he’s thankful that she’s so loud.

Jester had also fallen asleep, but she wakes when he shift underneath her. Fjord untangles himself from her and stands up. Jester looks up at him, still blinking sleep from her eyes, and Fjord is struck with the sudden, inexplicable urge to kiss her. Before it goes away, Fjord leans down and kisses her on the forehead, noting the way her messy-from-sleep bangs tickle his nose. “Thanks, Jester,” he whispers.

Jester frowns at him as he leaves, no doubt wishing he had stayed and gotten more sleep. Fjord wishes he stayed too, but by now Beau is certainly on her way back and Fjord would rather avoid anyone else knowing about his little predicament. So he says nothing and slips out, closing the door softly behind him.

---

That night, Fjord stands once again in the center of his room, changing into sleepclothes even though he knows he’s not going to sleep. However, things are better, infinitely so. So long as Fjord can catch Jester once a day – every other day, really, he’s been running on so little sleep for so long that even every other day seems like a miracle – he would be okay. Fjord has a plan now. It’s when they hit the road again that he’s nervous about. He has no idea how he’s going to take sneaky naps with Jester if they’re travelling by cart and fighting for their lives once more.

The door creaks open behind him, breaking Fjord’s train of thought. Caduceus slips in, long pink hair pulled into a knot on the top of his head. Fjord nods at him but says nothing. He starts rummaging through his truck, pretending to be looking for something in order to give Caduceus some privacy to change.

Instead of hearing the creak of the bed as the large firbolg climbs in, Fjord hears footsteps approaching him, soft and unsure.

“Mr. Fjord?”

Fjord straightens up and turns around. “Yeah?”

“I was hoping you could help me with something.”

“Sure, ‘Duceus. Anything. What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been feeling, ah, a little homesick recently,” Caduceus begins. His ears droop, and Fjord melts a little, eager to help.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Cad. It happens to the best of us.” It’s okay to ask for help, a little voice whispers in the back of his head.

“Yeah, it does.” Caduceus hums, apparently lost in thought. Fjord clears his throat in order to bring them back to the conversation.

“Is there anything I can do to make it better? Maybe make you some tea or something?” Fjord’s not really sure how to make tea like Caduceus can, but he’s sure he can whip up something. “Or d’you wanna … talk about it?”

“That’s alright,” Caduceus smiles at him. “I had a lot of siblings growing up. We – ah, we were very close. We used to do chores together, sleep in the same bed, share food …” Caduceus drifts off again, and although Fjord doesn’t know him well yet, he has the sudden insight that something is very, very off about the conversation. He believes Caduceus, sure, but there’s something overly exaggerated about Caduceus’s far-off looks.

Caduceus continues on, not quite looking Fjord in the eye. “So I was wondering if we could, well, push the beds together. I think it would help me feel better. Remind me of home.”

Ah. There it is. Fjord stares at Caduceus, and to his credit the firbolg stares back now that he’s made his request. Caduceus must know that Fjord knows he’s lying. Now it’s a game of who will break first. Either Fjord will call him out on his bullshit, or Caduceus will break and apologize.

Although, Fjord marvels, still locked in a silent war with his roommate, it’s remarkable just how well Caduceus can read people. He knows that Fjord would not have asked himself, finding the conversation highly uncomfortable, and he knows that Fjord also would help Caduceus out as much as possible if there was a real issue.

Fjord decides to yield.

“I would love to help, Caduceus,” he says, and without saying anything else he turns and begins to push his bed towards his roommate’s.

“Thanks, friend.” Caduceus smiles at him.

They crawl into bed, Caduceus on Fjord’s right. He lays down carefully, just so that their arms line up, shoulder to shoulder.

“This is nice,” Caduceus sighs.

And it is. Caduceus’s arm is a long line of warmth next to Fjord, and already he feels safer, more secure, less alone.

Just before he falls asleep, Fjord whispers into the silence, feeling brave in cover of dark.

“’Duceus?”

“Mmmm?” Caduceus responds, already on the verge of sleep himself.

“Did Jester tell you?”

There’s a pause, then a sigh. “No, Nott did.”

“Nott?” Fjord echoes.

“Yeah. I think she and Jester had a long talk about what happened to the two of you, and she put it together and figured out that you weren’t sleeping. She asked me to, ah, intervene.”

That explains … a lot, actually. Fjord groans. “Does everyone know?”

“No, not everyone. I’m just sorry I didn’t notice myself,” Caduceus says, humbling as ever.

“’Sokay.”

The conversation seems to end there, and Fjord closes his eyes and prepares for a good night’s sleep. Finally.

“And Fjord?” Caduceus asks suddenly. It’s the first time Fjord has heard his roommate say his name without putting ‘Mr.’ in front of it.

“Yeah?”

“You can tell the others. They care about you. We’ll look after you.”

Fjord has a suspicion that by the next day Caleb and Beau will know regardless. Somehow, he’s okay with that.

After that, things are okay. Between Jester and Caduceus, Fjord is finally getting sleep and even though he’s not sure if he ever won’t need someone to sleep next to in the future, every day he’s a just little more okay with that idea. It’s alright to need help, Fjord reminds himself, a new daily mantra. Everything is alright. He’s being taken well care of by his roommate and his … and Jester, whatever she is to him (since they’ve left Zadash Jester has made her crush a little more obvious, much to Fjord’s chagrin. Even worse, Nott seems to have fully taken Jester’s side, spending all of her spare time trying to get the two of them in a room alone together). Regardless of Jester’s new dedication to embarrassing Fjord, she always stops when he comes to her in need of rest, and for that Fjord is forever grateful.

He doesn’t realize quite how large his little network of caretakers is, however, until they’ve left the comfort of Zadash and headed out to the coast.

The journey to Nicodranas goes mostly without issue, which Fjord is thankful for. With the war looming, they were worried about making it out of the Empire and crossing the border, especially with their colorful and often too-nosey-for-their-own-good group. They journey carefully, keeping eyes peeled of Crownsguard, bandits, and creatures alike.

Fjord sits in the cart, eyeing the horizon as they travel steadily closer to it. He’s fairly tired, having stood watch for most of the night before. He’d been so used to getting decent sleep recently that the return to nighttime watches was rather jarring. Fjord hunkers down further and closes his eyes. He knows he’s not going to sleep, not unless someone hops up next to him, but he might as well try anyway.

Fjord doesn’t notice when someone does climb up next to him, stealthy and agile. He drifts off.

When Fjord wakes, he finds himself in a rather cozy position. His head has found it’s way onto someone’s lap, and even more worse, whoever it is is combing their fingers through his hair, steady and familiar. It’s been a while since someone has done that – the last person to run their hands through his hair was Molly, who would joking ruffle his hair as he passed or who held his fringe back whenever Fjord woke up vomiting seawater from yet another Uk’otoa nightmare. Fjord squeezes his eyes shut further, the sudden pang of missing Molly harsh and painful.

The fingers brush hair off of Fjord’s forehead, and the grief diminishes somewhat. There’s no telling whose lap he’s cushioned on, his cheek pressing into their leg. He’d assumed immediately after that first night that the others knew – there was no easy way to hide the way that Jester and Caduceus fretted over him or followed him upstairs as soon as he announced he was tired. Somehow, though, the knowledge that any of his friends would hold him and look after him like this is incredibly comforting and sweet, despite how embarrassed Fjord feels to have fallen asleep on someone. This is his team, his family, and all of them would look after him the same way he looks after them.

Fjord opens his eyes and is greeted with the sight of a blue-clad knee. Cobalt blue.

Okay, well. Fjord truly does believe that any of the Mighty Nein would coddle him like this, but he certainly put Beau at the bottom of that list.

Fjord shifts slightly, and the hand combing through his hair wretches away as if burned, as if the owner of the hand thought that being caught caring for someone was the most embarrassing thing in the world. Definitely Beau.

Fjord doesn’t want to leave the warmth of Beau lap quite yet, so he settles back down and quickly closes his eyes, intentionally evening out his breathing. Beau waits a minute, and then resumes her ministrations, short nails scratching his scalp while gentle fingers undoubtedly cause his hair to stick up.

The cart jostles as someone hops on – probably Jester; he doubts anyone else would have leaped on with such enthusiasm. Fjord can feel Beau laughing behind him at whatever expression Jester makes at her. He can tell she’s trying to laugh quietly. Regardless of Jester’s presence, her fingers don’t stop, and Fjord feels the cart shift again as Jester settles on Beau’s other side. He falls asleep again.

---

Just like that, making sure Fjord and Jester are cared for becomes a part of the Mighty Nein’s daily routine, in the same way that the group checked in with Caleb, made sure Beau wasn’t hiding any injuries, stood protectively around Nott whenever her ‘halfling girl’ disguise wasn’t quite working, or made sure Caduceus wasn’t overwhelmed with all the new sights and oddities of their group. Now that Yasha was back with them and on the open seas, they also kept an eye on her, especially when the sky overhead threatened storms. It was the way they operated – a group of misfits taking care of one another.

Still, though, Fjord marvels at just how easily everyone has accepted his and Jester’s new little need. Even more surprising is how good Jester is at just asking for it, while Fjord still fumbled over his words every time he comes into a room and Caduceus has already pushed the beds together.

Caduceus stands in front of him now, explaining the process of decomposition to Fjord and Caleb. Fjord doesn’t really get it, nor does he really want to get it – in fact, the more in depth Caduceus goes the more Fjord cringes. But Caduceus seems excited about it so Fjord lets him go on and lets Caleb do all the listening. They had only stopped for a short rest on their way to the Temple of the False Serpent, and Fjord’s not sure how he ended up in the ‘talking about gross science things’ group rather than the ‘eating as much pocket bacon as physically possible’ group, but it seems rude to leave now.

Jester appears at Caduceus’s elbow and waits patiently for him to finish. Unfortunately, Caleb had just asked a particularly disgusting question and Caduceus was in the middle of giving him a detailed answer. Fjord decides to interrupt them and clears his throat loudly. Both men turn to look at him. Fjord points his chin towards Jester.

Caduceus turns around, bemused, but he breaks into a wide grin when he sees the blue tiefling. “Miss Jester! What can I do for you?”

“Hi Caduceus,” she begins formally, which causes Fjord to grin also, “do you think that mayyybbeeee you would want to take a nap with me right now? Just a super quick one obviously. I’m pretty tired from taking care of Sprinkle all day, you know, and I asked Beau but she said that she’s busy.”

Fjord glances over at Beau and watches as she does some push-ups with Nott balanced on her back, pocket bacon apparently finished. She doesn’t look busy, but then Fjord realizes that she keeps glancing over at Yasha to see if the aasimar is watching. Yasha still seemed confused at how she ended up with them again, but she looks relaxed now, eying the performance in front of her with interest. Ever since Yasha had rejoined the group a few weeks ago, Beau has been alternating between showing off for her and worrying about her.

Jester plows on. “And that means Yasha and Nott are now busy too, which leaves you and Caleb, and you’re much softer than Caleb. Also he’s stinky.” Jester winks at Caleb to show she’s mostly kidding, and Caleb smiles back, long since unaffected by Jester’s jabs. Jester doesn’t mention Fjord, but Fjord’s not too worried – he knows that Nott has been giving Jester all sorts of weird flirting tips, so he figured it had something to do with that. If Jester really needed him she would let him know.

Caduceus nods, still smiling widely, and Jester leads him back to the cart – Caleb hadn’t put up the dome since they were only stopping for a short period of time. Fjord watches them go, shocked at just how easily Jester had asked Caduceus to sleep next to her and how willingly Caduceus had agreed. Fjord sometimes forgets that Jester needs someone to sleep with her, too, a testament to how effortlessly she is able to speak her mind.

Fjord is pulled out if his reverie when Caleb claps a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go and sit with the ladies. I won’t make you listen to any more of this,” Caleb grins at him, apparently fully aware of Fjord’s discomfort at the conversation.

“Thank you,” Fjord groans aloud, and he follows Caleb over to their friends just as Beau’s arms give out and Nott tumbles off of her in a shriek of laughter.

---

Ever since the temple, Fjord’s been on edge, so he blames Uk’otoa for the way he jumps when a mouse skitters across his path. Fjord lets out an unmanly yelp and backs against the wall, heart pounding. His eyes adjust to the dark and he watches the mouse disappear around the corner. Well, fuck. That was embarrassing. Fjord creeps forward, now alert for more critters.

He walks quickly, eager to put more space between himself and the door to Avantika’s chambers. He feels real fucking stupid for assuming that he would have spent the entire night with her, having grown so used to having other people sleep with him. That made the cold calculating look in her eyes as she shooed him out even more painful. He feels lonely and … and used. Of course Avantika felt nothing for him. What a shitty night.

It wasn’t like the sex was bad or anything (unfortunately Avantika was very very good), but he doesn’t quite remember sex being so unsettling. Then again, the last person he slept with had been some nice girl from Port Damali who wasn’t trying to awaken some eldritch god or possibly murder Fjord and his friends.

Fjord reaches the door to his room and creaks it open. His heart drops when he peers inside, taking note of the two separate beds and his roommate fast asleep. Fuck. Of course Caduceus hadn’t pushed the beds together – ever perceptive, Caduceus knew exactly what Fjord meant when he said he was going over to Avantika’s for a glass of wine. He probably had assumed that Fjord would stay the night with her, not taking into consideration that Fjord wasn’t wanted.

He goes inside and closes the door, heading to his lonely bed. Even the familiar swaying of the boat isn’t enough to calm Fjord. Instead, every wave suddenly has his heart hammering, sounding more like giant footsteps than the simple cadence of the sea.

Caduceus perks an ear up and Fjord glances his way, hopeful. Instead, the firbolg’s words slap him across the face.

“Sleep well with your bad decisions,” Caduceus mutters. His ear falls back down and he is silent once more.

Fjord climbs into bed, fuming. Well, fuck him too. Fjord had only gone to Avantika to try and get some information from her, and if strait-laced Caduceus didn’t agree with his methods of interrogation then that wasn’t Fjord’s problem. Not that he really got any information, but still, at least he tried.

The bed feels cold and empty. Fjord wonders again why Avantika kicked him out, leaving him alone once more. What did he do wrong? He thought he preformed fine, thank you very much –

“Fjord,” Caduceus calls out to him.

Fjord ignores him and tightens the blankets around him, unable to feel their warmth. He’s horrified to feel tears gather in the corners of his eyes. He hasn’t cried since that first night the Iron Shepherds took Jester, when he was convinced he would die alone –

“Fjord,” Caduceus tries again. “That was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

“S’fine,” Fjord grunts, hoping that his roommate can’t hear how thick his voice sounds. It really is fine, gods know how shitty they can all be to each other when they speak without thinking. But the boat rocks again and Fjord’s ears start to ring. He can feel the stone floor beneath him, and Jester’s gone, they’ve killed her, and no one is coming to rescue him because no one wants to rescue him –

“-ord.” He just barely hears Caduceus calling his name once more. “Look at me, please. Fjord.”

The urgency in Caduceus’s voice causes Fjord to look up, because he is their captain, after all. It’s his duty to look after his crew.

Caduceus has flipped to face him, and he holds one corner of his blanket up, a clear invitation. Fjord reacts before his brain can comprehend what he’s doing, and he practically launches himself across the room.

The moment Fjord climbs into bed Caduceus drops the blanket back down and envelops him in strong arms. Fjord wants to say something – perhaps a “this bed isn’t big enough for this” or even a “thank you” but he can’t seem to form words and instead just holds Caduceus back, sobbing into the fine linen covering the firbolg’s chest.

“That’s it,” Caduceus encourages, his voice sounding from somewhere above Fjord’s head. “Let it all out.”

He rubs Fjord’s back and Fjord is reminded of Molly. He cries harder.

“I’m – I’m sorry,” Fjord gasps out.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Caduceus chides gently. “You never have to apologize for this.”

Fjord just nods. He knows this, of course he does.

He thinks of the doe-eyed and friendly way Jester had asked Caduceus to stay with her just the other day. He can do this.

“Don’t leave me, please,” Fjord says.

“I won’t,” Caduceus answers immediately. “None of us will. Now shhh.” He starts to hum something soft and wild, reminding Fjord of woods he’s never been to and graveyards he’s never seen. Fjord holds on tighter and wills his heart to stop racing. The slap of water against the side of the boat once again sounds like water, a steady tempo to Caduceus’s song. The mock lullaby easily puts Fjord to sleep.

---

Fjord wakes next to Caduceus, a routine that has become familiar at this point. Usually Fjord isn’t quite this close to Caduceus, however. His roommate sits up and sips a cup of tea that he procured from gods know where, Fjord’s head near his thigh. Caduceus has his leg bent, leaving just enough room for Fjord’s shoulder to rest underneath his knee.

Fjord reaches up to rub sleep out of his eyes. The morning is still fresh, with just the barest hints of sunlight visible through the porthole.

“Hey,” Caduceus greets Fjord.

“Hi, Cad,” Fjord says back. He makes no effort to move, nor does Caduceus make any effort to interrogate Fjord about the night before.

There’s the sound of footsteps just outside their door, the rhythm reminiscent of someone pacing slowly with no real place to be. Caduceus listens for a moment. “I think that’s Yasha,” he comments. “Do you mind if I offer her some tea?”

Fjord has no idea how Caduceus was able to tell who it was, but he nods anyway. “Sure, of course.” Caduceus slips out from under the covers and walks to the door, opening it just a crack. From his position Fjord can’t see who it is, but he listens as Caduceus calls out a friendly greeting and as Yasha’s surprised but gentle voice answers back. The door clicks shut behind him as they go and talk in the hallway.

Now awake, Fjord gets up and begins to make the bed. He’s glad that Caduceus feels comfortable with them now – Fjord feels especially guilty for his original aversion to the man, brought about simply by the non-Mollyness of Caduceus. Fjord also had other more pressing things on his mind after leaving the Iron Shepherds than making new friends. Since then, however, things have drastically changed, and Fjord is increasingly thankful for his friendship with Caduceus.

The bed made, Fjord heads outside to see Yasha and Caduceus further down the hallway, apparently in deep conversation. Fjord doesn’t miss the way Yasha’s shirt is splattered with water, as if she had been standing in the rain for a while. She spies him lingering in the doorway and smiles, and however soft and unsure that smile may Fjord takes it as an invitation to join them.

“Good morning Fjord,” she greets him. “How did you sleep?”

Fjord can feel Caduceus’s eyes on him as he nods. “Great, thanks. You?” Caduceus also smiles, apparently satisfied with his answer.

“I slept … alright,” she begins. Caduceus nods encouragingly, and Yasha presses on, telling them about her visions of the Stormlord. Even though Fjord doesn’t understand much of what she’s going through, Fjord can certainly listen. So listen he does, hand hovering by Yasha’s bicep in a gesture that he feels is comforting. This is his family, his home, after all. A captain looks out for his crew, just as a crew looks after their captain.

---

The battle ends rather unceremoniously, with Fjord calmly swinging his falchion through the last guy standing before turning around to check on his team. Already his friends are scattering. Nott loots a body while Yasha wipes blood off of her own sword.

Fjord glances around, counting heads and clocking every injury. Beau seems to be the most hurt, but instead of getting help she’s poking at her bruised ribs with interest so Fjord figures she’ll be alright. With that knowledge, he heads over to the wall of the basement they’re in. He’s exhausted – thanks to Caduceus he slept fine the night before, but long days of traveling and unexpected battles always take it out of him. Fjord puts his back against the wall and slides down, hitting the floor with a grunt. He closes his eyes, and vaguely registers someone sitting next to him.

When he blinks his eyes open, Fjord’s shocked to find that he’s looking down at a book. His first thought is maybe he was injured, because for some reason he can’t read the words in front of him. He then realizes that they’re not in Common – instead Zemnian is scrawled in the margins, with messy arrows pointing to arcane diagrams.

Fjord lifts his head off of Caleb’s shoulder, thoroughly embarrassed. He can’t have been asleep for too long – Jester, Caduceus and Yasha have teamed up to back Beau into a corner, each threatening her while she refuses to let them heal her. Nott’s only on her second body.

Caleb’s hand comes down on Fjord’s leg, the palm warm and comforting on his thigh.

“It’s alright, Fjord,” he says without looking up from his reading. “Rest.”

“Yeah,” Fjord says, and he tips his head back against the stone. “’m resting.” Caleb doesn’t move his hand, and Fjord is acutely aware of how possessive the position is, one hand on Fjord’s leg even while Caleb does something else.

“Fjord,” Caleb says, finally looking up from his reading. “You can rest your head on my shoulder, you know. You are of no burden to me. To any of us.”

Fjord meets Caleb’s intense gaze, thinking about just how ironic it is to be hearing these words from Caleb Widowgast of all people. Regardless, Fjord takes up the invitation, leaning against Caleb once more. Caleb still doesn’t move his hand, and Fjord once again notes the familiarity of his friend’s touch.

“Your shoulder’s boney,” he complains, as a way of saying thank you.

From this position, Fjord can’t see Caleb’s smile, but he can feel him laugh softly. “And you are not the lightest,” Caleb responds, as a way of saying always. “Sleep now, ja?”

Fjord drifts off, only waking when the party is ready to move again. Caleb squeezes his hand and Fjord wakes. Even though he’s sure everyone saw, no one comments on Fjord’s choice of napping position. They leave the building without any jokes or strange glances his way.

When Fjord begins noticing Frumpkin watching him after battles, ensuring that he is alright, Fjord decides not to say anything.

---

It’s rare for the group to feel safe enough on the road to simply enjoy their time together, so when they do find a stretch of road that feels alright, they take advantage of it. Today’s activity is group training – Fjord and Beau have found themselves a nice clearing for them to tussle in, Beau teaching him how to punch while Fjord teaches her how to use a sword. The others sit and watch, most of them paying attention and cheering them on. Caleb is the only one not watching, instead focusing on the paper in front of him as he copies spell after spell.

Eventually, the cheering becomes a bit much for Caleb to concentrate with. He stands a stretches, announcing his intention to go back to the cart and get some more work done before walking away.

Beau tries to show Fjord how she tucks her thumb in her fist, but Fjord’s amusedly watching Nott, who seems incredibly torn between watching the fighting and going after Caleb. The cart is not too far away but it is slightly out of sight, obviously making Nott uncomfortable. Her eyes dart between Beau’s demonstration and the thin tree line Caleb disappeared behind.

Fjord catches Jester’s eye and he motions ever so slightly to Nott, careful not to draw attention to her. Jester understands immediately. She hops down from the rock she was sitting on and adjusts her skirt before addressing the group.

“I’m going to the cart,” she announces. “I left my sketchbook there.”

Without hesitation, Nott says “maybe you could stay and draw there. So Caleb isn’t alone.”

Jester makes a show of considering this before nodding. “Of course I will. Caleb’s way too squishy to be by himself. Maybe he’ll let me give him a tattoo!”

Nott doesn’t seem too happy about the tattoo part, but she visibly relaxes as Jester begins to walk away. Fjord watches Jester leave, eyes on trained on the back of her head and the bounce of her curls until she turns the corner and disappears out of sight.

Whack. Fjord suddenly drops as something hits the back of his knees, causing them to give. He looks up to see Beau holding her staff. “Huh,” she says. “Guess I don’t need work on my swing after all.”

“Why you little motherf –“ Fjord begins. He lunges at Beau and tackles her to the ground, all training forgotten. He can hear Nott cheering as he attempts to pin Beau to the ground, just before she hooks a leg around his and flips them over, reversing their positions.

An hour later, the group finally makes their way back to the cart. Fjord and Beau are covered in dirt and bruises, but spirits are high. Fjord leads the way while the rest trail behind. They discuss what’s for dinner, Nott and Beau begging Caduceus to make something that more heavily featured meat while Caduceus patiently explains that mushroom stew tastes better without it.

“Fjord, back me up here!” Nott calls. While Fjord certainly prefers meat, he decides to even the playing field.

“I don’t know, I think vegetable soup sounds great right about now.”

Nott moans, clearly feeling betrayed.

“Yasha?” Beau prompts. “What about you?”

“Yeah! You used to eat, like, giant spiders all the time! We’ve seen you do it – it’s gross!” As always when talking about the nastier habits of their party, Nott sounds a little in awe.

Fjord turns to look at Yasha, knowing that the scales will have once again tipped in Beau and Nott’s favor. Instead, Yasha catches Fjord’s eye and smirks before turning to the two women. “Actually, I’ve been considering going vegan.”

Beau and Nott immediately wail in aguish and incredulity. Fjord laughs to himself before stopping short as the cart comes into view.

The cart is empty.

Not wanting to alarm the others, Fjord jogs ahead, leaving his still-arguing friends behind. He hops onto the first step, looks down into the cart, and – oh –

Below him, Jester and Caleb lie fast asleep. Although Jester had not successfully convinced Caleb to get a tattoo, it looks like she had convinced him to let her braid his hair. Caleb’s head is cushioned on Jester’s soft stomach, the beginnings of several small braids visible as his reddish hair fans out behind him. Jester’s fingers are inches away from the end of a lock, the braid unfinished. Both seem incredibly peaceful.

There’s noise behind Fjord as the rest catch up to him. He puts his hand up to shush them before quickly beckoning them to look. They peek over the side of the cart, and everyone either tries to hide a laugh or smiles as they look down at their friends.

“Should we wake them?” Beau whispers.

Fjord looks once more at Jester’s face and thinks about how nice it is to be able to be vulnerable when surrounded by friends. “Nah,” he says. “Let them rest.”

No one argues with him. Nott immediately hops up next to Caleb and curls into the crook of his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Yasha and Beau carefully settle near Jester, Beau gently pulling the tiefling's head in her lap while Yasha resumes the intricate braids Jester had begun on Caleb.

Fjord follows Caduceus to the front of the cart and watches as he speaks to the horses. This time, he does turn around, looking back at the group as they get comfortable for the next leg of their journey.

---

Fjord’s miserable. The rain had stopped earlier in the evening, but everything is still soaking wet. Normally Fjord sits while on watch, but tonight he paces, unwilling to have anything other than his boots touch the thick, nasty mud.

There’s no patch of ground dry enough to comfortably build the dome on. Caleb and Nott are curled together on a slab of rock, which although far less muddy still looks miserable. Fjord throws his cloak over them – he knows what it’s like to sleep on cold stone, and he doesn’t envy them. Jester and Yasha have taken the cart. Beau has climbed into the lower branches of a tree and slung herself across the branches in a feat of acrobatics that Fjord marvels at. Caduceus, on the other hand, seems perfectly happy, stretched out in the mud after having fallen asleep quickly.

Fjord wakes Beau for her watch then heads to the cart, deciding that spending the night with Jester and Yasha was his best bet. He steps up and glances down. Jester is fast asleep, snoring softly, and she’s absolutely sprawled on top of Yasha, limbs everywhere and one wayward hand in Yasha’s face. Yasha is awake, watching the heavy clouds roll overhead. She glances over at Fjord.

“Sorry,” Fjord says, nodding at Jester. The moment he does so it seems strange – he’s not Jester, so why apologize for her? He desperately hopes that the light is dim enough for his sudden blush to escape Yasha.

“No worries,” Yasha replies.

“Uh, if I – If I may –“ Fjord says. This is already far more awkward than he had anticipated.

“Yes, of course, come in,” Yasha says. She doesn’t move over for him, probably because Jester is still on top of her, so Fjord carefully slots himself between Yasha’s broad shoulder and the edge of the cart.

“Can’t sleep?”

Yasha glances at him, then back up at the sky. “No, it’s more …” she trails off. Fuck. Fjord should have just kept silent and gone to sleep. Yasha had somewhat confided in them about her experiences with the Stormlord, but so much of her past and her destination still remained a mystery to Fjord.

“Ah, got it.” And then, because Fjord apparently doesn’t know when to stop, adds, “Are you afraid right now? That he’s gonna come after you again?”

“Not really,” Yasha says. She carefully moves Jester’s hand out of her face and Jester repositions herself without waking. “I’m just … thinking. I don’t think I’m in danger when it rains, it’s more that I may be … needed. I feel closer to him when it does.”

“Do you want to feel closer to him?” Fjord asks, curious. Yasha’s relationship with the Stormlord, Fjord and Uk’otoa, Jester and the Traveler, Caduceus and the Wildmother – they were all so so different.

“I don’t know. I think so, at least to better understand what I need to do. Who I – who I need to be.”

Theology and ethics aren’t quite Fjord’s strong suit, so he decides to stop questioning Yasha. “Well, if he comes out tonight, whoever’s on watch’ll be sure to wake you. You should get some rest.”

Yasha laughs, but there’s something hollow about it. “That’s okay. I know you will, it’s just that it’s harder for me to fall asleep when the weather is like this. I get a little on edge.”

“Understandable. Been there.” He means it in reference to sailing during storms, but Yasha interprets his comment differently.

“I know, I heard. You weren’t sleeping after the Iron Shepherds.” She doesn’t seem judgmental, just soft and curious in the way that Yasha usually is.

Fjord laughs too, an echo of Yasha’s earlier one. “Who told you?”

“No one, really. It was pretty obvious – you were taking turns sleeping with everyone. You both were.” She lifts a hand to tuck a lock of Jester’s hair behind her ear.

Fjord puts his arms behind his head. “Yup,” he says, popping the p. There’s no shame – that has long since left him. “Although when you phrase it like that it sounds a little promiscuous.”

Yasha laughs again, and this time it’s more real. Fjord’s relieved. “I’m happy you two are doing okay.”

“Yeah, we’re alright. What about you?”

“I’m better.” Yasha takes a deep breath, Jester rising and falling with her. “When they separated us, you know, they had me deep within the basement. I couldn’t hear much.”

Fjord turns to her, surprised but listening. He hasn’t talked about what it was like in the Iron Shepherd fortress with anyone. The others didn’t need to know, and Jester had been there so there was no need to tell her when she knew everything.

Yasha continues. “That was the worst part, I think. I’ve been alone before but I’ve never felt like I was nowhere. They kept putting this enchantment on me too – I don’t remember what it was called – but it put me to sleep. I don’t know what their goal was, they never touched me.” She too turns to Fjord. “Is that what happened to you?”

“No, not really. Jess and I – we were in a whole different place, and we could always hear screamin’. They would take us in turns and pummel the shit out of us. That was the worst part for me. Not knowing if she was going to come back, or if I would see anyone again. I don’t take too kindly to being left alone, I guess. Now I can’t sleep alone either or I just won’t sleep.”

Yasha nods, eyes understanding. There’s no fear between them, no embarrassment. “I’ve been alone for – for many parts of my life. But I was always existing. Always listening to the wind, or running or fighting or anything. There, I had no sense of time. I didn’t even know if I really was alive. Now I need noise. Anything – even the sound of crickets or, or the wind, it doesn’t matter, really. There are so many noises out in the real world. There was nothing for me to listen to there. I don’t know if the spell affected my hearing, but when I first woke up and heard all of you, I felt alive again.”

Fjord marvels at this, at the senses that ground each of them to the present. If Fjord needed touch to sleep, then who is he to judge Yasha for needing noise? “So this is loud enough for you, then?”

“Yes. Even the sound of you breathing is enough. Anything.” In the distance, there’s the sound of branches breaking and a string of expletives from Beau. Yasha smiles again. “Although that works too.”

“Thank you for confiding in me, Yasha. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. Thank you for letting me talk. When I was in there, I kept thinking about how much I wanted to see Molly, another person who’s been alone and who knows how hard it is to feel alive. The spell they used on me … I wonder now if I know what it’s like to be buried alive.”

Fjord swallows hard, the sudden emotion in his throat painful. “Does it get better?” he asks, needing to know.

“Does what get better? Trauma or grief?”

“Fuck, Yash. I was talking about grief, but trauma works too.”

“I’ve dealt with a lot of grief.” Yasha doesn’t elaborate and Fjord doesn’t press forward. “But this is all new. I’m not used to needing help.” Fjord’s not sure if she’s referring to the Stormlord or to the Iron Shepherds but once again he decides not to clarify. “I wish I was able to ask for it like you and Jester do.”

“And here I thought I was shitty at asking.” He pauses for a moment, trying to find the words to express his thoughts. “Everything feels so different now – like there are two mes.”

“There’s a before and there’s an after. I understand.”

“There’s a bigger before and after though,” a new sleep-heavy voice chimes in. Jester blinks at them, finally awoken by their conversation.

“Jester, how long have you been listening to us?” Fjord doesn’t care though. They had all experienced this together – it was only fitting that Jester was here too.

Jester doesn’t answer his question. “There’s a before and an after for the Iron Shepherds, sure, but there’s also a before and after for us. Like when we all met. Our after for the Iron Shepherds is better because there’s an after for the Mighty Nein. Got it?”

“Not really,” Fjord answers at the same time Yasha replies with a “yes.”

Jester rolls off of Yasha and settles between them, gripping Fjord’s hand with her left and Yasha’s with her right. “What I’m trying to say is that it’s okay that things change. And that we change. We’ll just all change and grow together.”

“Hmm,” Yasha says. “I think I like that.”

“You’re allowed to not be okay,” Fjord says, both to Yasha and to himself.

Jester giggles. “When did you become so wise?”

Fjord looks at her, incredulous. “Did you not just wake up and try and immediately sermon to us? I didn’t even understand the point you were trying to make.”

“I was saying that we’re all like a super cool family and –" Jester cuts off and looks at Yasha. “Sorry Yasha, we’ll stop so you can sleep.”

Yasha smiles at them. “No, it’s alright. I like it. Keep going.”

“Maybe Jester can sing a song or something?” Fjord asks, now aware of how quiet the woods around them are.

“No, that’s okay, I –" Yasha cuts off too when she catches Fjord’s eye above Jester’s head. “Actually, I think I’d like that too.”

Jester begins to sing, and she’s not half bad, only slightly out of tune. Yasha falls asleep quickly, her hand never leaving Jester’s. Jester’s song peters out soon after as she too falls asleep.

Above them, the clouds begin to part and a starry sky is visible.

---

While on the road, there’s no telling who’ll spend the night with Fjord. Although Jester and Caduceus still often cuddle up next to him, it’s come to the point where Fjord just simply lays down next to whoever and waits for them to throw a sleepy arm over him. It’s least likely to be Nott, however. Fjord doesn’t blame her. Since Felderwin, he understands Nott a little more and he can’t imagine how absurd it must be to be in a body totally different than the one you were used to. He can only guess at how strange it must be to touch another person with hands that don’t seem like yours.

Then again, maybe Nott just wasn’t a touchy person. Or maybe she just didn’t like touching Fjord. Fjord musses over this as he wanders further into the woods to use the bathroom, the familiar sounds of his friends getting ready for bed behind him.

When he returns, he’s greeted with a sharp “hey!” from Nott. Fjord freezes before realizing that she’s not talking to him, but rather to a startled Beau, Caleb, and Caduceus, caught unawares as they begin to unpack their things.

“Where’s Fjord?” Nott asks, and Fjord steps back to hide behind a large tree trunk, curious.

“He just went to piss; he’s fine,” Beau says, but Nott only glares harder.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Caduceus says, backing Beau up. “He said so before he left.” This was true – Fjord had made sure to tell Caduceus specifically to avoid anyone worrying about him.

When Nott still doesn’t calm, Caleb steps in. “I’m sure he is fine, Nott. If he does not come back in ten minutes we can go looking for him, okay?”

Instead of agreeing, Nott shoots out an even fiercer question, causing Caleb and Caduceus to raise their hands in surrender. Even Beau startles. “And who’s going to be with him tonight, hmm? One of you will right?” She swivels her head, glaring at each of them.

“Of course I will,” Caduceus says. “Duh, obviously,” Beau says at the same time. “Yes I will do it,” Caleb volunteers also at the same time.

“Caleb,” Nott declares, her voice leaving no room for argument “can you stay with him tonight? He’s been having dreams again. Like, you know,” Nott lowers her voice and Fjord strains to hear her. “The wet dreams.”

That was true. Fjord had woken from an Uk’otoa nightmare the night before, spitting seawater onto the ground below. Thankfully Yasha, whom he was curled up against, was a heavy sleeper. He simply lay back down next to her and fell back asleep. Someone had noticed though, because when we woke up there was a full waterskin right next to his face. Fjord had downed it immediately.

“I know having someone with him won’t stop those,” Nott continues, “But I want to make sure we’ve got him covered every night.”

Beau and Caduceus nod, but Caleb looks down at Nott with an expression Fjord knows well, because he’s sure his own face reflects it. It’s the soft, gentle acknowledgment of seeing someone care for another person.

When Fjord first met Nott, there was something that reminded him of home that he couldn’t quite place. The feeling ebbed after a while, especially after Fjord had realized how unlikely it was that they had ever crossed paths before the fateful night of the circus. It occasionally came back in spurts, like in the times Nott fussed over Caleb or when she had thrown herself at Jester the night of their rescue.

Now, after seeing Luc, he understood what that feeling was. Nott was a mother, and Fjord felt foolish not to have placed that before.

“Now move!” Nott says, once again back at full volume, and her startled audience scrambles away and continues to get ready for bed. Caleb sets his bedroll up next to Fjord’s, the edges of the blankets just touching.

Fjord returns to the group and chats with them as they each climb under their blankets. Caleb is warm against Fjord, falling asleep quickly. The rest soon follow, leaving Fjord and Nott as she’s to take first watch. As soon as Yasha nods off, Nott gets up and creeps away to her post. Fjord clears his throat and Nott looks in his direction, surprised.

‘Thank you,’ Fjord mouths, trying to convey as much honesty as he can in his face. He wants Nott to know – no, he needs her to know that despite everything he was on her side as well and would stop at nothing to find her husband. Friendship is a two-way street. It’s okay to ask for help.

Nott looks sheepish, but then she smiles at him, sharped-fanged and radiant. Fjord counts this as a win. Goodness knows he made fun of her enough during their time on the Ball Eater. Fjord’s favorite joke was threatening to throw her overboard. It always made Beau laugh, Jester give Fjord a reproachful look, and, to Fjord’s glee, even seemed to strike slight amusement in Caleb though the man would never admit it. Ever since Nott had admitted to drowning, Fjord has felt terrible about it. Maybe this was a turning point, and he would never make another joke aimed at Nott again.

Nott trips over Sprinkle on her way, and Fjord has to quickly stifle a laugh. Okay, maybe just fewer jokes. He sinks down and lies next to Caleb, still half-surprised that Nott had told him to stay with Fjord when that meant her and her boy couldn’t be next to each other.

Fjord may never fully understand Nott the Brave. He doubted he would have understood Veth Brenato, given all he’s heard about her. Something tugs at the back of his mind – an image of Nott bouncing on a chair in a dimly lit bar, asking him to cast Eldritch Blast on her.

Fjord shrugs this off as a weird dream and falls asleep, Caleb’s hand in his own.

---

Xhorhas is much colder than the Menagerie Coast. The Barbed Fields are barren and brutal, sand stretching out for miles while dangerous animals and monstrosities alike weave their way between large, threatening spikes.

Tonight, however, Fjord feels none of that. The dome is warm and filled with the sounds of light snoring and shuffling blankets. Next to Fjord, Caleb pours over a book, technically his partner on the watch. Frumpkin circles the dome, come back inside every few minutes to get some head scratches from Fjord before patrolling once again.

Eventually Caleb looks up, his internal clock ever accurate, and whispers “it’s time.” Fjord nods and slowly stands while Caleb reaches behind him to wake up Beau.

Fjord looks around for Nott, momentarily worried when he doesn’t see her until he spies one green ear sticking out from behind Jester. He heads over to them, stepping carefully over Caduceus and Yasha who sleep back to back. Looks like Nott didn’t manage to escape tonight, Fjord thinks, grinning as he approaches and see’s Jester’s arms wrapped tightly around the goblin.

He crouches and wakes Nott up, and she only startles slightly before scrambling up and collecting her things.

Fjord decides to take her place. He shakes Jester’s shoulder, hoping that she would simply open her arms and let him in. No such luck. She cracks her eyes open and squints up, giving a sly smile as she realizes who it is.

“Oh, Fjord,” she purrs, stretching her arms above her head. “How nice of you to drop in. How can I help you tonight?” She ends her performance with a wink, and Fjord rolls his eyes.

“Jester,” he admonishes, and Jester drops the act, giggling.

“I’m only kidding Fjord,” She says, shifting to make room for him. Fjord climbs in and closes his eyes. There’s the sound of footsteps approaching, and Fjord can tell it’s Nott and Beau about to begin their watch by the way that Nott fusses with Jester and Fjord’s blanket, tucking in the corners around them. Beau leans down and kisses Jester on the cheek. She pats Fjord on the forehead and he tries not to laugh despite her odd attempt at a love tap. The two move away and settle down at the side of the dome in the space Fjord and Caleb had just vacated.

Fjord flips on his side, pulling Jester to him and tucking her underneath his chin in a practice he is now familiar with. Despite her increasingly obvious feelings for him, their nighttime practice remains unaffected by it. They survived the Iron Shepherds together, creating a bond between them that nobody else could understand, not even Yasha, who had to do the whole thing by herself. Jester understood better than anyone else why Fjord needed someone to sleep with him, and she had never once judged him for it, even on that very first night on the cell floor.

Then again, none of his friends have judged him for it. Every time he’s asked for help, they have been there for him. They’ve even been there when he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

His heart does a slow roll in his chest as Jester snuggles closer. Fjord doesn’t have time to figure out what that means, however. Right now he has bigger things on his mind, like looking after his best friend as she falls asleep in his arms.

While in the Iron Shepherd fortress, Fjord had wanted nothing more than to go home. At the time, he had a hard time figuring out where exactly that home was. Now he’s sure of it, surrounded by the people who would fight for him as if he was their own flesh and blood. They may no longer be on a boat, but regardless, he was their captain, and they were all in one way or another his anchors, grounding him and bringing him back when he lost sense of what was real in the middle of the night.

“Fjord,” Jester mumbles, interrupting his train of thought, “you’re thinking way to hard.” Fjord’s not sure how Jester knew he was still awake, but he’s not surprised, either.

“Go to sleep,” she says.

And Fjord does.