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"Jester, please."
"No, no, Caleb it's gonna be fine Mama is really nice and really sweet and you better say yes because I've already talked to her about taking you on as a client!"
Caleb was helpless as Jester pulled him along, up the stairs and knocking already on Marion's door. Still, he had to protest. "Jester, I- this is a wonderful thing you are trying to do but-"
"It's fine really Caleb she already knows you're gonna be her client and I have you booked for the whole day and if you want to bang my Mama-"
"Jester-"
"It's perfectly fine I mean, she is the best lay ever, am I right Mama?"
Marion Lavorre stood from a chair in her room and smiled at her daughter. "It may be true, but you shouldn't say that to the poor boy. Look at him! He looks like he's going to die of embarrassment!"
As the two of them laughed, Caleb stared down at his leather boots and tried to tune them out. Tried to think of a spell, something new for the Tower, something-
"Well okay Caleb I'm gonna go! We'll be here for a week, it's fine again like I said so don't worry about it! I will see you later Mama okay? I have to go clothes shopping!"
"Have fun dear," Marion said before kissing her daughter once on either cheek before Jester fluttered away with a laugh and a flounce of her skirts.
"Now. Caleb." Marion spoke, but Caleb was focused on his shoes. He couldn't think about any inappropriate things with the mother of one of his good friends if he was thinking of dunamantic formulas, now could he? "It's alright if you're nervous. Is this your first time?"
"I have had sex before," Caleb admitted slowly. "I just- it would seem inappropriate-"
He snapped his head up when he heard her laugh, a little tinkling thing kept behind a hand. When had she moved to stand before him? "Caleb. You silly, silly boy. You think all I do is sex?"
"Well- I- Uh- There is this song about you-"
She pressed one finger to his lips while her other one caught one of his hands. "Caleb. It's alright. Many people think the same as you. That I am some... highly paid prostitute. That is not so. Sex is something I do, yes, but I am also so much more than that. I am a friend to the friendless, a home for the homeless, a priestess for those with confessions and a forgiver for those who need forgiveness. I give people what they need of a woman. That is my job. Sometimes it involves sex. Sometimes, it involves nothing more than a heart-to-heart. But... I think you need something a little different than either of those. Would you like a hug, Caleb?"
Ah. He hadn't had one of those in.... a long while. Not since Jester hugged him, he thought. Maybe it was in Rumblecusp? Maybe Beau had touched him in some way or another. Veth liked holding his hand, rubbing it with her strong halfling fingers. Caduceus paid him attention in other ways, made sure he drank and ate with the rest of them, even as he shoved his nose in his books. Fjord was as oblivious as Yasha was to his well being, but they still cared. Fjord patiently listened to his half murmured ramblings and Yasha- well. She had been known to pick him up from time to time and put him in his bed.
He shook himself out of his reverie. This was no time to be woolgathering. He looked up to Marion and saw she already had her arms outstretched, in a comfortable dress of what looked to be crushed purple velvet. It looked very soft.
"I am.... very dirty," he said instead of answering her.
"Dirt can wash off," she said with all the patience of a saint.
He awkwardly shuffled up to her, wrapping his arms around her. He made sure to keep his arms under her armpits and his hands no lower than her shoulder blades. He prided himself on being a polite boy, and his Mutti taught him well.
But that hug... it was a very nice hug. He felt her squeeze him and it was something he didn't know he needed, he wanted, he craved. It had been so long since someone gave him a hug like this, like he was an important person, like he was a child in need of care and love and attention. Not since his own mother had hugged him, just before the wagon took him from Blumenthal to Rexxentrum. Before he was ripped from his home.
How sad. He couldn't remember if his parents had hugged him when he came back. Surely they had, but it had been a tumultuous time in his life. He wasn't going to dig for those memories anyway. This was good enough.
Caleb pressed his nose into her neck, inhaling deeply the faintest hint of brimstone underneath a clove perfume mixed with a little bit of amber. He liked that scent. It wasn't overpowering, but it fit her in a way that it wouldn't on another lady. Was it something she had specifically created for her by a perfumer? Or was it something that she naturally exuded as a part of her biology? Was it something that she wore for anyone or was this something that she wore specifically for Caleb? He wasn't ever really good at figuring these things out. Girls had always been off limits; when he was a child, he had no interest in them. As a teenager, the only one had been Astrid. And now, he was too broken to have someone love him.
But there was someone who loved him, he realized. Jester. She could have easily shoved him off to someone else, someone who he didn't know just to have sex and be done with it. But she didn't. She chose her own very mother. Jester must have seen something like this play out dozens, hundreds of times in her life and known what Caleb needed.
"Is this awkward for you, Madam?" he asked softly.
"Not at all," she replied, just as quietly. "It's very nice. Has anyone told you you are a fantastic hugger?"
That choked a laugh out of him. "Nein. But... Thank you, anyway."
"You are quite welcome."
He let himself linger for a few beats more before coughing softly and pulling back slightly. "I think I would like to let go now. This is starting to get awkward for me."
"Ah, very well." Though he was the first to let go, she was still touching him as her arms made her way from his back to his shoulders. "I think... You would also be the type of person to enjoy a haircut, a mud mask and a shave. Am I wrong?"
Jester must have told her, surely. "No. You are right. I would like those things."
"Then come on, into the bathroom with you." Marion guided him into the spacious bathroom, where the tub had indeed been replaced. It looked like it had been made out of quartz, cut in half and hollowed out until it was big and wide enough for two, then the edges smoothed over until it gleamed. There were still some jagged pieces on the outside of the tub, but they were not anywhere near where someone might accidentally hurt themselves getting into or out of the tub.
She directed Caleb to her vanity, a dainty yet massive thing made of polished brass and mirrored in silver to make sure she looked her best. There was a strange contraption on a shelf though. It looked to be a wax warmer, but larger and with a thick terracotta bowl already on top of it, with a lid firmly closed on it.
"What is that?" he asked, pointing to it.
"It's the mud mask. Since Jester asked me to take care of one of her dear friends, I thought I would pull out all of the stops for you." Marion bent and with the help of a pot holder retrieved the brown pot and undid the lid. "I wanted to make sure it was warm for you. Cold mud always feels so awful, and having it warm will help open up your pores and get all of the nasty oils and dead skin off of your face."
"If.... If you say so." Caleb tried not to sound apprehensive, Her reassuring smile was soothing.
"Would you like me to skip this?"
"You already went through all the trouble. I wouldn't want-"
Marion once again put a finger against his lips, which silenced him immediately. "Caleb. Your comfort is first and foremost in my mind. If I was doing something that was hurting you, I would want you to say so. I ‘went through all this trouble’ so you would be happy and feel safe with me. If you didn't feel safe, if you didn't want this, I would stop. Even if I was in the middle of applying the mask. I would stop and wipe it off and ask you how you were feeling. Alright?"
Caleb gulped. It had been a long time since someone plainly spelled out the rules of interaction to him, but it was deeply appreciated. "I... alright."
"Now. Would you like the mask? Or shall we leave it off for the time being?"
"I... I would like the mask," he said reluctantly. "I just don't want you to trouble yourself-"
"Caleb, if it were any trouble, I would not have offered. Now. I am going to put a ribbon around your head to keep the hair out of your face. Is that alright?"
"J-ja. Yes. Please. That would be... very nice."
"Would you like to pick the color of it? I have all sorts of ribbons with a variety of different patterns."
"Whatever you pick will be fine."
Marion hummed softly and moved off to his right, opening up a cabinet of a dark wood. Was that iron wood? Oak? Walnut? Maple? So many things ran through his mind one after the other- until Frumpkin jumped up into his lap.
Frumpkin always did have an impeccable sense of timing.
Caleb turned his attention to his amber cat, rubbing his thick fur and enjoying the purring emitted by his little fae creature. Though he wanted nothing more than to finish his troubled thoughts, he found it difficult when his cat was right there and purring away like no one's business. He had to pet Frumpkin while he was purring. That was an arbitrary rule that he had made up when he had first summoned Frumpkin. He had to pet while the purring was happening and Frumpkin was in reach. That was how he missed the little 'ah' and Marion moving away from the cabinet until she was near, visible just a little bit off to the right.
"How about this?" she asked as she held up a ribbon for him to inspect. The otherwise plain cloth was patterned with beautiful reds and purples, the design geometric and regular. Ordered. Orderly. Just like him. He nodded and closed his eyes, anticipating her fingers in his hair.
He had always liked people touching his head, his scalp especially. Her touch sent little electric thrills and goosebumps up and down his body. He had always enjoyed bath time because of that sensation, the tickle of gentle contact against his scalp, and tonight was no exception. She was careful as she brushed his hair this way and that to settle the ribbon around his hairline so not even a single hair would get in the mask. The gentle touch felt like it was far more than he was due, but if she insisted then it must be alright, surely.
"Caleb?" Marion had a lilt to her questioning tone. "How are you feeling?"
"Better already. It felt nice with your hands in my hair."
"A lot of people like it when I brush their hair. Tilt your head back for me, please?"
Caleb hummed as he complied, closing his eyes as he did so. He tried not to compare the experience with the less favorable sensation of drowning as the first of the warm mud was spread across his cheekbones. Volstrekker policy had been to endure the pain that they would inflict on their enemies in the future, in order to maximize the effectiveness of their interrogations. He had particularly hated his brief drowning, struggling against the water in his nose and ears, the strong hands holding him under while he silently begged for release from Mas-
Marion hummed as she moved off, a tune that Caleb seized on with all of his mental might. It sounded familiar- perhaps from a play he had once seen when he was small. The pantos at Midwinter had always been his favorite, especially the Thousand Nights and a Day. Every year had been different and- yes. Now he recognized the song. It was from the panto.
"And dance by the light of the moon," he sang quietly to himself, in a bid to distract himself.
"Oh, so you know it?" She asked as she came back to his side. He cracked an eye to see a small pair of scissors and a comb in her hands.
"I liked the pantos as a child. Sorry."
"Not at all. There's nothing for you to be sorry about. Jester always wanted to go to plays and theater as a child. It was hard on her when I told her no. That I was busy, or that I couldn't go. Excuse after excuse after excuse. I know she snuck out sometimes, and sometimes she would have Bluud with her, but still-" Caleb heard Marion sigh as her fingers returned to his head, running though his hair. "I worried about her. I think every mother does about their children. And my little Sapphire was always curious about the world around her. But... I surprised her one Midwinter. I happened to service the master of the pantos, and together we managed to set the stage for a production of the Thousand Nights and a Day right here in the Chateau! Oh, her face lit up in wonder as they performed for her. She was so happy for the rest of the day that not even me having to go back to work the next day dampened it. I think she drew some of what she saw on the walls of her room. I wouldn't know. I try not to go in her room, for privacy. She got little enough of it as it was growing up."
Caleb heard the scissors open and close, the scraping of metal against metal soothing instead of irritating. He couldn't feel any difference in his hair, but he felt tiny little clumps move in a regular pattern against his scalp.
"Not-" he started to say, but then stopped himself short.
"Not what, dear?"
Caleb cleared his throat and tried again. "Not too much. Please. I... I think I like it long."
He heard Marion chuckle above him. "Alright. I will only trim off the dead ends."
It took him a few moments before he realized. For being so smart, he was so incredibly stupid sometimes. "You were already planning that."
"Yes." There was amusement in her voice.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be, Caleb. You had no idea what I was doing. It was an honest request, and I will honor it to the best of my ability. You have to take better care of your hair though, or it will never grow out correctly."
"I am on the road a lot," he murmured, chagrined and feeling guilt well up in the pit of his stomach. Even now, he couldn't help but feel like an idiot. An asshole. A-
"It's alright. I can give you a few things that pack well for long journeys. And if you ever want, I will give you a haircut. Is that alright?"
"Yes. Please. I would like that. I am able to get anywhere in the world, as long as I have some trinket that's been closely associated with it-"
"So I heard! Jester said that you were able to do something along those lines. And you can always use the teleportation circles to come back, too. And Jester also said something about turning her room into a sanctuary....?"
Caleb shrugged. "The thing she did- or can do- or something- it.... I don't understand it. It's something about her god being in her room and I was never very religious, outside of holidays."
Marion hummed softly as the scissors made their way slowly around his head. "I think... would you also like a hot oil bath for your hair? It would do so much for it, and perhaps help it further."
"If you think it's necessary."
"Necessary? No. Fun? Oh, absolutely. Hold on a moment. I will be right back." Caleb felt her kiss the top of his head before sweeping out of the room, her feet light on the tile. He heard Frumpkin purring and her talking to someone outside. Perhaps Bluud? He didn't know. That was alright though. He was safe. He was okay. Everything was fine. He wished she would come back so he didn't feel so alone, abandoned, fuck fuck fuck-
He sighed when he heard her feet on their return journey. "I'm sorry that took so long. It will be up shortly. For now... Hmmmm... I think the mask is done."
Indeed, Caleb had slowly felt the mask harden and then start to flake off as he spoke. It would probably be time to get it off, and he could do it so she didn't have to.
"I can- if you get me a washcloth-"
"Nonsense. I am taking care of you, Caleb. I will do it." He cracked an eye as she moved away from him again, but only to her tub. She turned it on, and made sure that the water was hot before running a cloth under the faucet. He closed his eye again when she was done, and she was ever so careful about removing the mud from around his face. He sighed at her light touch and smiled softly.
"You have a beautiful smile," She said as she worked, careful to keep the half wet slurry from reaching his eyes or nostrils or mouth.
"Danke." What else could he say? Mutti had told him to be polite, and to thank everyone who gave him a compliment. Even if it wasn't true. Even though Marion was lying, it was a nice lie. The type of lie that made someone feel good about themselves. Like Mollymauk. He would give out lies like that. Or so Caleb thought. For all that his death had been traumatic, they didn't know a lot about the tiefling. Not even Yasha, who had known him the longest.
"And this is... Frumpkin, yes? He looks just like a little darling." He opened his eyes as the last of the mud came off and nodded.
"Yes. My cat. He is very sweet. Would you like to pet him?"
"Maybe later. I have a lot of mud on my hands, and I don't think he would appreciate it." He couldn't help but smile at Marion's little laugh as Frumpkin stood and stretched on his lap.
"Thank you. For this. For... ah... taking care of me." He felt like he had to say it now, say it while it was still fresh on his mind, say it before she could laugh and take it all back.
But she didn't. Instead, she just smiled at him, fondly, indulgently, like his own mother would, before moving away only to return shortly with a small pitcher of oil.
"This is my job, Caleb. I take care of people. People pay me very well to take care of them. I am doing this as a favor for my little Sapphire, yes, but I like helping people. Head down, please."
Caleb tilted his head easily, closing his eyes once more. It was easy to obey her orders; they were very simple, didn't require him to do much, and made him feel like he was a good boy. He hadn't been a good boy in so long. It made him feel wanted, and it pleased him that he could please her. He shivered as her fingers found their way yet again to his scalp where they brushed through with slick, warm oil. And this felt nice too, to be cared for by someone that wasn't himself. He didn't have the best track record of taking care of himself. That's why he had Veth, and Jester, and Beau, and the rest of the Nein there. They took care of each other, picking up where one or more might fall short or fail.
And he supposed he had Marion now, as well.
"Lean your head back for me?" he heard the question in the order, but he didn't disobey. His head felt heavy with the oil and the warm towel weighing it down. But it was a good weight, not like his sins. Those were heavy too, but with a guilt associated with it. He tried to relax as another lather was put on his face. He tried to empty his mind, but couldn't. There was some problem that was just eluding his grasp. Something about the Tower that needed to align more closely with the Sphere, some symbol, or rune, or something-
The scrape of a razor blade stopped his thoughts short, leaving his mind pleasantly empty. When Yasha had shaved him, he had stopped thinking for a while. The trust that came with someone holding a killing implement to his throat not to harm, but to help, was powerful indeed. Caleb's eyes stayed closed as it moved over his skin, the touch purposefully light. He sighed deeply when he felt it move away at last
The soft towel brushing his face shook him out of his mindless enjoyment. "Ah, you look so much better!"
"Thank you," he murmured, smiling up at her. Indeed, there was a kind of soft flush to his face, and unfamiliar ease to the flex of his skin.
"And there is that cute smile again," Marion said, kissing his nose. That sent a blush to his cheeks, and she smiled down at him and laughed in the small, disarming way he was coming to expect of her.
"Well... Ah.... I think.... you also have a very cute smile as well. It is... easy to see where Jester gets hers." The comment obviously caught her off guard- it sent her flushing a pretty purple color.
"Thank you, dear. Is there anything else you would like to do? We have the entire day together."
"I... ah... I am thinking too much,” Caleb admitted “What do you... usually read?"
"I like all sorts of stories but... I think you are asking because you want me to read you something. Do you perhaps like the Larry Pooper series?"
Caleb smiled wanly. "Ja. I do. Or- I used to. It's been a while since I read them, though. Not since I was a child."
"Oh, my little Sapphire used to adore them. Hold on a moment, let me go grab one. Which do you want me to read you? I got her all of them. Signed, of course."
"I... The third was always my favorite. The Innocent Convict?"
Marion smiled at him again, her cheeks dimpled sweetly. "I know just which one you're talking about. Let's get out of here."
Caleb gently shooed Frumpkin off of his lap, but that only caused the tabby to jump up to his shoulder and lay across his neck. "Careful, cat. You might fall off," he chided gently in Zemnian as one hand came up to hold his cat's butt up so his poor boy didn't slip and slide everywhere. He was very careful as he made his way back into Marion's room, holding his shoulder at an awkward angle so Frumpkin would be more comfortable. The adoration, appreciation, and love coming off his cat was palpable as Frumpkin made biscuits on his shoulder and purred up a storm. God, that was such a soothing sound.
Since Marion hadn't forbidden him from sitting on her bed, he gingerly sat on one edge. He was mindful of the wrap around his hair as Frumpkin jumped off to once more return to his lap to continue the biscuit making procedure and force Caleb to pet him. Not that Caleb minded petting his cat. He had chosen a cat for a reason, after all. They were much easier to pet than say... an octopus.
Marion didn’t leave him alone with his thoughts for long, however, returning in short order with a fairly slim but clearly well-loved book in her hand. The spine was cracked and there was an odd stain on the front cover that either looked like brown mustard or crayon. Either one wouldn't surprise Caleb in the least little bit, knowing Jester.
"Let's get settled, shall we?" she asked. She moved to the bed, fluffing up pillows here and there until she could lean back, satisfied. She left one pillow out of the bunch, conspicuously alone next to her. Caleb presumed it was for him, but how could he be sure? Surely, she wanted it for something else.
But Marion had left it for him, making the fact clear when she put the pillow in her lap and patted it invitingly. "Would you like to rest your head here a while, Caleb?"
He would. He would indeed.
He had to move Frumpkin yet again to lay down, putting his head on the pillow, but his clever little cat stretched himself out on Caleb's side, his tail gently thumping against Caleb's thigh.
"I know, I know. I move around too much. But I don't think you have to worry about me moving for a while," he murmured apologetically to Frumpkin as Marion opened the book.
"Larry Pooper and the Innocent Convict. Book Three of the Larry Pooper series by K.L Landing. Chapter One: Dinner."
Caleb turned her out, even as his mind went into overdrive. But instead of thinking about magic or the Nein or anyone else or anything that could be harmful, he focused on the world she read to him. Though he had practically memorized the book, it was still fresh in her lovely voice. And as he half dozed, the world of Larry Pooper came alive: his adopted family that treated him so horribly, the castle where he learned to be a wizard, his best friends Donald and Theodosia, and the lich that dogged Larry's every step.
Marion paused frequently. Sometimes it was only to shift a little before continuing again. Sometimes it was to have something to drink, to keep her voice from getting raspy. Sometimes, she would press a piece of fruit to Caleb’s lips, startling him out of his reverie. He ate each one dutifully, the sweet juice nearly dripping off of every bite. Sometimes Frumpkin moved, either to get more comfortable or off of him altogether. Sometimes Nugget would interrupt, and the two animals would go do... something. Probably fae things.
He was startled out of his doze an indeterminable amount of time later when someone touched him on the shoulder. "Caleb? Are you awake, sweetness?"
He had been, but he hadn't been. Caleb inhaled sharply and yawned, stretching his body in a way he distantly thought was very reminiscent of Frumpkin’s leisurely arch. "I am now, Madam," he said, sitting up and blinking heavily to try and clear the mustiness inside of his head.
It was now late afternoon, if the window was any indication. Nicodranas was alive with the colors of sunset, the Opal Archways just outside the windows bathed in red and oranges and pinks. It was a beautiful scene, one which he filed away to recreate for Jester in her portion of the Tower. It would be easy enough to do in the glass of her room’s windows. He wouldn't even need a new portion of the spell- he could just tie it in with the bits and pieces of the spell that made the paintings shift in an invisible breeze. She would surely appreciate it, if only because he had thought of her when doing it. It would be a way to say thank you to her for doing this for him even if he didn't necessarily want it in the first place-
"Caleb?" a voice cut through the fog of his thoughts. He shook himself.
"Ja. I'm sorry, I was thinking."
"I have a place where we might go for dinner, if you are up for it. It usually serves the Crownsguard captains, but the owner is a client of mine. I'm sure we could get a private room if I asked."
Caleb went to rub nervously at his head but was stopped by the towel around it. When had that happened? For being so smart, sometimes he was so stupid. "Ah... yes. That does sound nice. I do like traveling but... I miss meals from my home."
Marion smiled, just as patient as she had been the rest of the day. "I understand. It's something I struggle with sometimes. But for now, let's get you cleaned up."
She stripped Caleb of his clothing, but it did not feel the least bit sexual. Marion was so careful with him as she helped him undress that he wasn't even shy about showing off his body. Even when she saw the scars left by his time in the Volstrekker, he didn't feel like she was judging him for it. It was a nice change of pace if he was being honest. Even now, now that his friends knew who he was and what he had done- and what he had almost become, thanks to Edowulf and Astrid- he was still worried that he would be cast out of the group, left to wander on his own, left to be forgotten without recourse or trial-
He blinked when he found himself chest deep in hot water. When had that happened?
Marion's hands were soothing in his hair- when had he lost the towel and the oil?- as she scrubbed in soap to help further soften his hair.
"It's alright," she was saying. Her tone implied it was not the first time she had said it in the last few minutes. "You are safe."
"Thank you. Again. Saying thank you doesn't seem like enough, but-" He closed his eyes and tried not to let his heart climb into his throat, body shaking with a shuddery exhale as he forced himself to breathe.
"You are welcome, Caleb. I promise you, you are ever so worthy of affection. I understand what it's like, you know,” she said, her tone somewhat conspiratorial. “To be... anxious. I've never liked open spaces, after all. Children used to tease me about it growing up. They would call me all sorts of horrible names. Even my parents would despair of me whenever they thought I was out of earshot. My grandmother used to force me out of the house, which only perpetuated the cycle of bullying and abuse, and then she would blame me when I ran back inside in tears." Her hands stopped their massaging on his head. Caleb could only guess at the face she was making. "There is a reason I moved to the Coast. And why I don't keep in contact with my family."
He digested this information as she continued to gently scrub his hair. It must have taken a lot out of her to even admit this to him, judging by the strain in her voice. He got a feeling that she didn't tell this story often, if at all. Eventually he settled on, "Children can be cruel, and adults crueler still."
"Don't I know it." She sighed and tilted his head forward to rinse his hair. "Thankfully, Bluud was there, and helped me escape."
"Bluud?"
"We've been close friends for many years. I owe my freedom to him. I think you're ready, if you want to stand?"
Caleb did as he was bid, standing up and getting out of the bath on unsteady legs. He was handed a huge, warm, fluffy, towel to wrap up in, and thought that perhaps if he magically made some in the Tower his friends would like him a little better than they pretended they did. No... they didn’t use him. Well- they didn’t use him in a way that hurt him, like a parasite. Perhaps it was more in a mutually beneficial way, like crocodiles and birds, or hippos and birds or-
Breathe. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he watched Marion shake out the only semi-fancy clothing he had amongst his things. He must have told her it was okay at some point- which it was. But it was disturbing that he didn't remember saying that it was okay. For being so smart, he truly was an idiot.
Still, he watched as the wrinkles disappeared under her experienced touch. She matched socks and underwear to the black trousers and deep crimson shirt she’d found. She chose the coat he'd gotten in Xhorhas, which was an unusual choice. Or perhaps not, given that the Coast had no quarrel with the Dynasty.
He watched her undress herself- still not at all awkward- and slip into something light and flowing. The cut of the dress reminded him of an Empire noblewoman, though the light cloth was made for the Coast. The dark plum suited her well, especially with the lavender trim at the hems. He absently stroked his cat while he continued to watch her, even as she did her own sort of magic to her hair and her face to erase what few lines were there. The final effect was one of careless grace.
Eventually, she signaled she was ready as she stood from her vanity. "Shall we go then, sweetness?"
Oh, how he liked being called pet names. "Ja,” Caleb murmured, “Ah... Would you like Frumpkin to lay across your shoulders? I know I am only one person, and I thought that perhaps you would like some more comfort- he certainly brings me some."
Marion smiled that soft, sweet smile at him, the one he had only ever seen aimed at Jester. "Thank you. That would be most helpful. He won't scratch, will he?"
"No. He is a fae cat, and understands Common. I... I made him. So he is not truly a cat, only he likes to take the shape of one." Before he could stutter himself into silence, he gently held out his arms, to which Frumpkin obediently stepped out and into. Without fuss, Frumpkin moved smoothly up to Marion's shoulders and plopped down across her neck, purring softly all the while. Caleb found himself smiling against his will. Somehow the cat completed her look. She was... well, she was beautiful.
But, she wouldn't enjoy his self recriminations. Caleb shook himself and offered her his arm, which she took lightly. "Shall we, my lady?"
Marion's dimples were so cute. Jester obviously got those from her. "I think we shall," she said as she took his arm. Together they stepped out into the hall.
Bluud was up from his chair in a moment when he saw the door to Marion’s suite open. "Is everything alright?" he asked, looking between the two of them.
"Quite alright, Bluud," Marion responded smoothly. "Caleb and I are going to be going out for a little while. We are having dinner at Das Haus des Königs."
The great minotaur's brows drew together. "You want me to come with you, then?"
Marion shook her head. "Oh, I think Caleb will be able to help me with everything I need. Thank you, Bluud."
Bluud didn't look convinced, no matter Marion's reassurances to the contrary. But beyond leveling a calculating gaze at Caleb, did nothing to prevent the two of them passing to the stairs. Marion paid the curious gazes of other patrons no mind as she guided Caleb to the door of the Chateau. But though she appeared to be confident in her steps, he could feel her shaking where she all but clutched at his arm.
Her nerves became worse when they stepped outside. Without the audience to perform for, she allowed herself to press her weight against him, eyes darting about, breath coming heavily. Frumpkin's purrs became louder as he kneaded against her shoulder to try and help calm her. Caleb for his part was thankful for his keen mind, because he knew exactly how to get to the restaurant without having to stop and ask for directions. One glance during a past shopping trip with Jester was enough to remind him how to get there.
The two of them walked quickly and with purpose. He put his free hand against hers and tried not to fall over with her weight crushing against him. The trip was rather hard, even with Frumpkin being a good cat and making biscuits against her shoulder. Whatever had her terrified of the outdoors had not been helped in the slightest by her family, and certainly wasn't helped by Caleb being only one person and not seven to create a barrier around her and the rest of the world.
They did manage to arrive at the restaurant without issue, where Marion relaxed significantly. Caleb bamf'ed Frumpkin back to his own shoulders as the owner came out to greet her like an old friend. They didn't get a private room, but they still got a nice, secluded table well away from the rest of the establishment. Caleb was grateful for that. The smells, the sights, the sounds... they threatened to overwhelm him.
Formal Zemnian and Common flowed around the two of them as they waited. He saw many Crownsguard both on-and off-duty lounging at tables around them. The establishment’s steins were highly decorative and full to the brim with good Zemnian beers, and the smell of sauerkraut and wurst and spatzel flowed around him, the heady scent of hickory smoke cut through all of it. The walls had been whitewashed recently, and the paintings on the walls were of scenes typical in beirhalls- battles and myths and legends and folklore. His history was displayed so proudly here, deep and rich- and he wanted to curl up on the floor and weep. He wasn't even sure why he wanted to do such a thing, except that the nostalgia threatened to overwhelm him.
Marion touched his shoulder, drawing him away from his running mind. "Caleb? Are you alright, sweetness?"
He was mortified to discover his cheeks were wet with tears. "Ja. I am fine." A quick wipe of his cheeks and a sniffle was all he allowed himself. "It reminds me so much of home."
"I know,” she said, her eyes kind, “That's why I thought you would like this place." She patted his hand from across the table- when had they sat down?- and smiled fondly at him. "I take it this place is to your liking?"
"Yes. Very much so."
There were those dimples again. "Then I am very glad."
The dinner was excellent. He had ordered something- some sort of meat pie that paired very well with the stout he had requested. She had gotten something more dainty but hearty as well, which paired with a Lionette wine. He had to explain his laughter to her when she chose her selection. And once the food actually arrived- once they were left alone- they didn’t speak. He didn’t feel like they needed to. They were kindred spirits in this way. She didn’t want to talk about her trauma, and he didn’t want to talk about his. He wouldn’t have known what to say, anyway, just a tongue tied little boy in the company of a beautiful woman.
He did at least have the sense to offer her the use of his hand, which she accepted. It eased her trembling, at the very least. He was just happy to help her. It felt like everything he tried to do was useless and pointless but here at least, he could be just as kind to her as she had been to him.
And when people tried to talk to her, tried to get to her, tried to do anything to her, he was quick to shoo them off. Maybe it would have been better to bring Bluud he thought, but there was nothing for it now. No time for regret when he needed to help Marion calm down from her harrowing journey.
"You know..." He said as dessert, something light and welcome after their hearty meal, arrived. "We don't have to go back through the streets."
"No?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
"No,” Caleb repeated. “ I... I know how to transfer people from place to place without the need for... for walking, as it were. I can take us back to the Chateau within moments. It would be Jester's room, but...?"
"I don't think it would be a problem," she assured him, squeezing his hand. "Thank you, Caleb, for being so sweet and for thinking of me."
He shrugged, ducking his head self-consciously. "You have done so much for me today. It's only fair that I try to help you as well. Since... since you did all of those things earlier. And the reading. And this, just now."
"I can still say thank you, can I not? It does not all need to be an exchange, tit for tat."
"It's not that big a deal, is it?” Caleb felt himself begin to get flustered again. “Has no one ever done this for you before? Offered it, even?"
She smiled, though it was pained. "No one has offered, no. And no one has wanted to try either. I would have brushed them off, anyway. They..." She sighed softly through her nose, looking away and through the crowd to some far off space. Not this room, but somewhere further than that. Caleb could respect that. "I have always known that people took one look at me and only thought about what I could do for them, not the other way around. You are one of the few who are powerful enough to help me in a way I would want to be helped, and who also cares about me."
Caleb ducked his head again, flushing brightly. "You are the mother of one of my very good friends. Why wouldn't I do all that I could to help both you and her?"
Marion smiled at him again. "Thank you Caleb. I truly do appreciate your offer. And- I believe I will take you up on that. Do you need anywhere specific...?"
"Just perhaps a room. So we do not startle other guests. It's quick, so we can take our time lingering over dessert if you want."
"Do you? Want to linger, that is," she clarified.
"Actually…” Caleb mulled over the atmosphere and warm company. “Yes. It's nice here. And I can tell you about some of the scenes in the paintings, if you want."
Those dimples came out again. "That would be wonderful. Thank you. Or.... Hold on. I think it's... dan... ke?"
"Close. Very good, actually." When she beamed at him, he knew that parting with her tomorrow would be terribly difficult.
---------------
The trip back was just as quick as he promised. The sea breeze through the open balcony doors was quite pleasant, and the bed was still as soft as ever. But there was something else that Caleb wanted to do before he collapsed in her bed from his long day of thinking and overthinking and pseudo-napping.
"Madam?" he asked tentatively.
"Yes, Caleb?" she responded as she shucked some bracelets off of her wrist and onto a waiting dowel.
"I was hoping to read to you. As you did for me."
Marion turned to look at him, her eyes soft. "You don't have to-"
"But if I want to?"
She paused, considering his request. "I suppose then it would be okay. What did you have in mind?"
He didn't answer her immediately. Instead, he went to his pack and to his books. One slim, precious volume that was his life's work. Not his spell book, but his journal, where he wrote all of his thoughts, his ideas, his fears, his worries, and-
He held up the slim volume. "Poetry?"
"That sounds delightful. Let me get more comfortable, and then you can read to me."
He nodded, still standing in the center of her room as he watched her bustle about.
"You can get comfortable too, if you want."
"I'm fine." He trembled with tension.
"If you're sure..." she said uncertainly as she finished taking off her jewelry. He watched her as she puttered about, taking off and putting away clothing, getting more comfortable as she readied herself for whatever he was planning. Frumpkin jumped on her lap as she seated herself in a chair.
"Oh!" she said, startled by the cat.
"I can make him get off if you want-" This was a bad idea. This was a bad, bad idea, why was he doing this in the first place, he should just leave her alone now-
"No, no, it's fine! He just startled me, that's all. I don't mind him one bit. He's so adorable, isn't he?"
Caleb nodded. "I designed him to be adorable."
Frumpkin, for his part, just purred and made biscuits in her lap.
"So... who are you reading from?" She tilted her head a little, curiously.
"Ah... my own private works. I write from time to time. If you want me to stop, then I would be more than happy- the cadence would be all wrong, I write them in Zemnian-"
"Caleb." At her voice, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "It's perfectly fine, sweetness. You take your time, read me what you want to read, and I will listen to it with all of my might. I might even be able to translate it some, if you want to read it in the native tongue!" They both laughed a little. It was good to laugh. He had little to laugh about, these days.
For now though, he opened the book to a random page, flipping through until he got to the poem he wanted.
"I sit under the tree," he read. "Fire crackles, people sleep. They stay close as branches rustle and stars light the sky. Warmth, home and hearth, away from people. I need nothing else, but this one moment. My cat yowls at me. People wake. Morning comes. Warmth, home and hearth, with people. I smile at people. They smile back. I need nothing else, but this one moment. We travel, speak to one another and the warmth continues. It buoys me, sustains me through the loneliness of my mind. My cat purrs, sleeping on my shoulders. Mother asks what is wrong, why I look so tired. Warmth. Home and hearth in her eyes as she stares at me and begs silently to tell the truth. I do so, and we stop so I may rest. My eyes slip shut and I sigh. Warmth. Home and hearth, surrounded by my friends."
He watched Marion as she took a cloth to her eyes, dabbing away the tears. "Thank you. That was... beautiful. I'm sure... I'm sure it's better in the original Zemnian, yes?"
He nodded, a little sheepishly. "I think so at least."
"That is still very good, Caleb. I'm grateful that you shared this with me. May I ask for another?"
----------------
A bright knock on the door interrupted his sleep the next morning. He groaned as Jester flung open the door and sang out, "Good morning, Caleb! Good morning, Mama!"
Caleb sat up in the bed, glaring at his friend. "Jester, please-"
"I know that you're supposed to be sleeping because you just had the best lay of your life-"
"Jester-"
"But I thought 'Well, Caleb needs his breakfast too and Mama wanted her breakfast-’"
"Jester-"
"So I thought that I should come up and give you both breakfast! Sooooooooo…” She thrust the tray in her arms toward them, laden with fruit of at least five kind of pastry. “Breakfast!"
Marion sat up in her bed, smiling at her daughter through a yawn. "Thank you, little Sapphire. You're so thoughtful."
"Oh it's no problem, I just wanted to be nice! So... how was it? Was she the best lay ever?"
Caleb groaned and flopped back into the sanctuary of the bed. He was not awake enough to even remotely answer that question right now. Besides- Frumpkin was pinning him down to the bed. That must mean he had to stay still. Right?
And as Marion and Jester talked around him, he did realize how tired he was. How warm the bed was. How much this place and time felt like home to him. His eyes slipped closed once more, falling back into sleep.