Archive of Our Own

Fjord is dead. Fjord is dead, and his last week with Essek will be spent at his funeral. His stomach twists when he realizes he isn’t sure which hurts worse, especially with Essek standing off to the side, allowing them their space, never having been that close to Fjord. It’s only when he sees Jester, sobbing into her mother while Veth clutches her hand, that he realizes he’s being stupid… because Fjord is dead. He didn’t leave, didn’t run away somewhere, didn’t go off on his own, he’s gone… for good, and none of them will ever see him again. Even her.

It's unfair, he knows. To love someone and lose them while you’re still so early in your life, not even a grey hair on her head yet. It’s unfair how some are innately given lifetimes, while others only have a taste before time sweeps them away. He looks at Jester. It’s unfair. He looks at Essek, the same thing mirrored in his eyes. Now he knows they’re making the right decision.

He sees other people around as well. People he doesn’t recognize, but from the garb and the scattering of faces, he does remember; he knows they must’ve been his crew. An old man hobbles to the casket with a crestfallen expression. The man places his hand on the casket before taking off his medallion to put on top of it. With a pang in his chest, he realizes, as the man hobbles away and out of sight… that’s Vandran. He never outlived him.

He steps up to the casket. There are already gifts, trinkets, and offerings scattered on top, decorating the wood as it bores into him. Fjord died young, or…much younger than he was expecting. He knew the ages varied; some half-orcs died at 80 and others as young as 50 from old age. Fjord never made it to 50, stopping short at 47. Distantly, he wonders if it was their adventures that did it. His dealings with the gods. His life at sea… götter, he hopes that isn’t the case.

“Good man.” He says quietly, under his breath, as he feels the wood against his ruined fingertips. “You have done so much for this family… for her.” His voice pinches. He presses his palm to the wood; the single inlaid scar held firmly against it. “I will do everything I can to protect them. To do half as much as you did, my friend… Your heart will not be forgotten.” He says, pausing to take a breath. His fist clenches, and he walks away, needing to be alone.

“So, I suppose this is it,” Essek says as they stand outside their home… or well… as close to a home as they had ever gotten with them always traveling. They only really settled two years ago with the end of Ludinus Da’leth, and more recently stopped their recent travels with his certainty that the Assembly was wiped. Their home in Rexxentrum is a small house made from stone and dark wood, though pretty enough to appease Essek.

It now sits empty.

“Yes.” He replies, clutching the strap of his bag of holding. When they had agreed to this, it seemed so distant, as if the day it finally came, it would be with amicable satisfaction and acceptance. Yet they never even got around to who would do the dishes last night, and the pain of having to figure out how to divvy up the cats, and of course, the removal of their lives from the walls, one by one, most to never resurface to greet the sun and moons again.

“Try not to frown.” Essek says, deftly brushing his thumb against the corner of his mouth and cheek as if to wipe it away, “This is not our first goodbye.” He says as he pulls his hand away. Caleb can see the carefulness in his words, in his actions, and he’s not sure which of them he’s trying to protect with this. Perhaps both.

“It is our last.” Their breaths are baited as they look at each other, as if breathing would collapse everything. Then he steps forward, reaching a hand to the back of Essek’s head to pull him in. Their lips connect, and he knows it is the last time he’ll feel them, the last taste of this period in his life before he moves on to another. Essek’s hands grasp his coat tightly as he kisses back. Intense, longing, and temporary. “This life. Here and now. It will always remember you, remember us.”

“Then I am grateful,” Essek says, his forehead still against his own as they breathe each other’s air. “To have shared this precious time with you.” Caleb’s breath hitches as he gently squeezes the back of Essek’s neck, tempted to go in again. He isn’t that selfish. He pulls away and turns to the teleportation circle they set up for him. Before he steps in, he turns one last time.

“This time was ours, and you have so much more ahead of you.” He says, and Essek stands there still and expressionless. “If you remember one thing from this, remember I want you to be happy.” Essek remains motionless for a few moments before he curtly nods, his feet firmly planted on the ground. Caleb smiles. “Auf Wiedersehen.”

He steps into the circle.

It’s been about a month, and he’s finally found a new home suitable to his tastes in Rexxentrum. It’s a bit odd, living here alone, as if it’s the end of a cycle or the start of a new one. Not too much is different, him still being a professor at the Academy. Some days, he’s still concerned, as if the walls would come to haunt him again. His concern ebbs when he looks around at the Academy, and it holds a new life to it, with youth and light in the children’s eyes, no more children with sunken faces and hallowed eyes… not anymore.

Professor of Transmutation. He almost laughs. He’s come a long way since he was a boy. He’s sitting in the park, jotting down a list of the furniture he needs as he basks in the hectic atmosphere. It’s nostalgic, the buildings, the vibrant life, the plethora of languages mumbled from the people that pass by. This hurts a little less…

‘Hey Caleb! I’ve been visiting friends, and Veth mentioned you were in Rexxentrum. I probably should’ve told you this earlier, but I’m here now! Where—’

He jumps, his heart stuttering, and he almost drops the paper he was writing on before his senses settle on the familiar voice. He remembers she would send messages almost endlessly years ago. She still sent plenty throughout the last couple of years, but less frequently and—well—there hasn’t been any for over a month now. But… she’s in Rexxentrum?

“Hello, Jester,” he says quietly, trying not to draw any attention or concern from the people around. “No need to apologize, it’s always a joy to see you. I’m at the park next to the central clock tower. See you soon.” He adds, though he can see a boy looking at him with a perplexed expression. He clears his throat before smiling awkwardly at the boy, who promptly scurries off.

‘Great! I’m on my way now, so I should get there in a few minutes! I can’t wait to catch up!’

She didn’t hit 25 words. He doesn’t know why that eats at him, but it does. He can’t tell how she’s feeling from her voice alone, though he can assume she’s still grieving, given the time. His mind recalls the funeral perfectly, the tears trailing down her face, her voice too shaky to speak as he and the others consoled her while grappling with their own individual grief. He hopes her pain has lessened. He’ll get a better idea when he sees her.

Luckily, it doesn’t take long. He can distinctly see a blue figure amongst the crowd, weaving throughout them. Her blue and pink dress billows as she moves. A darker blue overcoat, looking more decorative than functional, is layered on top. He can’t help but smile when her face comes into view, freckled with some faint smile lines creased into it, but still purely Jester. Her gaze then catches him, and she smiles with a wave.

“Caleb!” She shouts, either not noticing or not caring, when the people around her turn, some with nasty looks. She then moves faster, swift and nimble enough to squeeze through the crowds, usually on display as she’s up to dubious deeds. “Caleb!” She shouts again as she sprints up to him, nearly knocking him off his 50-year-old knees as she jumps and hugs him. She’s almost hanging from his shoulders as she squeezes tight. He laughs. The typical Jester greeting. “I’ve missed you!” She says before letting go, smoothing her dress back down as she stands again.

“I’ve missed you, too.” He says, already nostalgic from the smell of lavender and cinnamon. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” He asks as he returns to sit on the bench he was writing at. Jester hums, taking the seat next to him. He turns to look at her, trying to keep his gaze to appear casual while he studies her eyes and expression, noting if it gives anything away.

“Well… I stayed with Caduceus to catch up for a few days before stopping at Veth and Yeza’s. Then I went to Beau and Yasha, and of course, now you and Essek! A mini Mighty Nein tour, if you will!” She says, and he freezes at the name. She must notice his change in mood because her smile drops soon after, her brows pinching together.

“Oh—uhm… did Veth not tell you…?” He asks, hoping it was just a lapse in her memory.

“Tell me what?” She asks, tilting her head, and he curses silently. He swallows the lump in his throat before clearing it.

“E-Essek and I… we aren’t together anymore.” He says, and her expression drops entirely. She stands eerily still for a moment before her features twist into one of sadness and concern.

“What?” She asks, a bit frantic. “What happened? Is everything okay?” He raises his hands to hopefully calm her and slow her down a bit.

“Nothing bad happened, Jester. We both decided to go our own ways.” He says, though, that only seems to worsen her worry, and the expression deepens.

“But… but why?” She asks. “You loved each other.” He shuts his eyes at that, doing his best not to cringe from the sharp prickles of pain in his chest. He feels a hand rest on his upper arm, and he opens his eyes to see her expression soften as she looks at him. He takes a deep breath.

“Yes, but it isn’t quite so simple.” He says, gathering up his nerves and courage. It’s odd to voice this out loud, not just in his journal or brief snippets in letters. “It was a mutual thing. Essek already knows what it is like to watch someone you love wither away and… I don’t think either of us wanted that to happen again…” He chooses his words carefully, and she freezes.

“Oh.” It comes out breathy, and for a moment, he can see something sharp and wounded in her gaze. Something that makes his heart tighten and want to hug her, but it’s gone as soon as it was there, being replaced by a tepid smile. “Well, more Caleb-time for me then!” She says, perking up again, and she truly is an excellent liar. “Do you live nearby?” She asks, and he knows it’s bait. He takes it anyway.

“Ja, well… I just purchased a new home here. I’ve been staying in my tower in the meantime.” He says, before pulling out the little notebook he was writing in before she came. “I was actually jotting down some furniture I needed for the place.” He can see something spark in her gaze, can see the way her eyes race down the page of the notebook. He smiles as a thought blooms in his mind. “Would you like to help me? I could use a creative eye… I’m not too good at decorating for myself.” He offers, and she looks at him with wide eyes before a smile beams across her face.

“Of course! I’d love to!” She says, practically bouncing where she sits. He can only imagine what images conjure behind her eyes. Oh boy… let’s hope things don’t get too out there. “Could we check out your place first? I need to get familiar with the canvas.” He laughs as she embraces her familiar mannerisms again.

“Ja, right this way.” He says, huffing a bit as he gets up, his joints definitely not as slick as they used to be. He’s got a decade on her, and it shows when she’s still able to bounce up onto her feet. He then leads her through Rexxentrum as she looks around aptly. He doesn’t remember the last time they visited. Likely for something more political than for pleasure. There’s certainly much to be enjoyed here, much beauty and life he’s sure she’d appreciate.

Eventually, he leads her into a more residential area, still close to the heart of the city, and only a 15-minute walk from the Academy, carefully plucked amongst the listings. It’s a two-story townhouse with red brick, white windows, and a small front porch, accessed through an old staircase. Besides the location, he isn’t sure why he specifically wanted this one most, though it does have its charm.

“This is beautiful, Caleb!” Jester remarks as they look at the building. He looks over at her, only to laugh at her starry-eyed expression. Perhaps its charm is inherent. “Wouldn’t this be like really expensive?!” She asks.

“Ja.” He admits, and it was, but considering the situation, it’s a necessary investment. “It turns out the less I needed to buy paper, the more my funds exponentially increased.” He says, and it comes out like a joke, but it holds more truth than he’s willing to admit. Jester laughs regardless, rushing up the steps to look around, feeling the brick and the railing.

“It suits you!” She says, smiling at him before returning her attention to the house once more. “The brick color’s so nice, and oh—flowers would be lovely at the front. Caduceus has been telling me so much about the best pairing of plants, and apparently, there’s this flower that repels pests, so I’ll jot that down as a possibility for you… And of course you need a doormat, maybe one with a kitty!” It’s strange how quickly his heart warms, and his mind preoccupies with how she looks standing there. Oh götter, what is he even thinking? His smile drops. She must see this because she pauses. “Oh, am I being too much? It’s your house, Caleb! Of course, anything you want can go wherever.”

“No, you’re full of nothing but good ideas.” He reassures, because it’s the truth. He was only planning on getting a plain mat for the front and nothing else, but the more he pictures her words, the more he loves the place. “Please write down everything that comes to your mind. If there’s anything I don’t like or would want to add, I’ll let you know.” She smiles, nodding. He then steps up to the porch with her, pulling out a shiny new gold key that clicks right into place.

He shows her the house, the downstairs living area, kitchen, office, bathroom, though he skips the room that’s still being remodeled, looking worse for wear. She rambles about the potential colors and décor, and the layout of the furniture to look as inviting as possible, but still comfortable. He then takes her upstairs, where there are two bedrooms, one larger, and both have an ensuite. A guest bedroom, he explained, for anytime his friends want to stop by for a visit. She smiles, spinning and remarking on how bright and open the place is, her heels softly clacking against the wood floors. He thinks he’s enjoying this too much.

“Man, this was so fun.” She says as they lie on the wooden floor of his living area. He’d started a fire to keep—well, mostly himself warm, but she doesn’t seem to mind. He scans over her list as he lies there, crossing off only a few things and adding one or two items every now and again. Overall, it’s amazing, fitting neatly with his personal tastes and interests. “I haven’t done this in so long…” She sighs, and it’s wistful but also slightly solemn. He stops writing, peering up at her.

“Your place is in Nicodranas, right?” He asks, curious if he’s on the right track. “It’s such a bright and charming home.” He notes, remembering the swaths of color and fabrics and patterns. Almost too busy, but not quite, which seems to perfectly sum up her usual style.

“Yeah… some would say too bright, but… I loved it…” Loved not love, he notes, confirming his suspicions. They’re both quiet for a moment, and he deliberates whether to push or not… perhaps not push but maybe prod a bit… see how she reacts?

“Does it not feel like home to you anymore?” He asks, and his mind takes him back to his old home. Neither he nor Essek could continue to live there. He can’t even consider currently putting up most of the items they’d collected over the years. “Is it hard to go back?”

“Well…” She sighs, and her expression falls a bit. She then looks over at him; her head tilted slightly up with him leaning on a forearm, and her on her back. She smiles sadly. “I’ve never been able to hide anything from you, Caleb.” His chest twists a bit under the admission, breaking further with the tears that begin to form but don’t cross, merely resting in her eyes.

“Is that why you’ve been visiting all of us?” He asks softly, placing the notebook down entirely. She laughs humorlessly.

“Yeah. Caduceus was nice, but I couldn’t stay there for too long knowing… he’s there, and Veth was sweet, willing to take me in as long as I wanted when I couldn’t stand being home, but the docks and the markets, and even Mama’s house felt… wrong. Then I saw Beau and Yasha, and it was good for a while, but they have their young children now, and eventually it felt like I was intruding. I was hesitant to visit you since I know you travel a lot with your super important and cool wizard missions and stuff.”

“Not so much anymore, at least I’m not planning on leaving for a while.” He says, though his breath catches when he sees it. Only for a split second, but there. A hollowness. His words to Fjord ring back in his mind, and he swallows, racking his brain for anything. “You know…” He says, catching an idea. “These walls could use some paint… could I commission you to help out with this predicament?” He asks, and she's silent, looking at him with wide eyes. He’s a second away from apologizing before she smiles.

“Really?” She asks, her voice light and bubbly. He promises silently, one day that’ll be real. One day, she won’t have to hide her pain.

“Ja, I was thinking something with a subtle… pattern perhaps…” He suggests, and her smile turns positively wicked. Oh no.

“What are you making?” He asks, as he places down some food and milk in front of her as she works, of course, with a pastry thrown in as well. Paper is scattered around her, some balled up and some ripped. He also notices some more sturdy and flexible material she’s cutting through, seemingly referencing a sketch while she does it.

“Some stencils for your patterns. I have them all figured out!” She replies, chewing on her lip as she seemingly makes a more detailed cut into the stencil, leaning in close to get it just right. He smiles, sitting next to her with his own food and water. It’s then he sees a stack of more stencils next to her, looking to be already done, while he was running some errands for the place.

“Could I look at them…?” He asks, gesturing to the unoccupied stencils. She stops, giving him a wide-eyed look, and he laughs. “Or is it a surprise?”

“No—no, you can look at them, it’s probably best to get your approval first anyway.” She says, picking up the stack next to her and handing it over. He’s about to check them before he pauses, looking back at her painstaking carving, what he assumes to be the last stencil.

“Would you like to show them off?” He asks, offering them back. “I’m not certain which rooms they’d go to.” She pauses, ruminating a bit before accepting them with a smile.

“Absolutely!” She says, sorting through them before finding the one she’s specifically looking for, and holds it up to him. “I think this one is self-explanatory, but since you love kitties so much, I couldn’t not include it.” She says, and like her words, it’s a cute profile of a cat, and he notices the stencil designs are small enough to only really be noticeable up close, so it isn’t too gaudy. “This will be for the living areas, and I was thinking like a deep green color with the kitties painted in gold for the pattern.”

“That sounds lovely.” He says, smiling. “I’m a bit impressed by your restraint.” She scoffs at that, placing the first stencil down next to her.

“You think I slack when I’m getting paid?” She teases, and he laughs, because certainly, what is Jester if not a professional? “Anyway, this is for your office. It felt very on brand.” She says before holding up a stencil of an open book, looking to have some magical sparks coming from it. “I was thinking the office could be a rich red with gold detailing again, because red and gold go amazing together, just ask my mama.”

“Once again, I have no complaints. These look remarkable.” He gushes, and she smiles, ducking her head a bit as she places the second stencil down on top of the first.

“Thanks, Caleb!” She says before she clears her throat and holds up the last stencil in the stack, triumphantly, seemingly gaining confidence as they go along. “This one is for all the bathrooms because duh.” She says, holding up a stencil with a cut-out ship design, the make and model of it is suspiciously similar to a certain wrecked one known as the Balleater. Based on her grin, he’s certain she knows that too. “And obviously they will be blue, though this time the pattern will be in silver because you really don’t want your eyes to be overwhelmed and sore while you’re taking a dump. Definitely not fun.” She adds, and he bookmarks that story for a later time.

“I like it.” He says before his attention is caught by the stencil she’s working on now, and from a distance, it’s hard to discern the exact design. “What about the one you’re working on now… is that a flower?” He asks, and she snickers in a way that is all too familiar. He’d check his nearby books if he had any around them.

“Of sorts, though I’m pretty sure these don’t actually exist… it would be amazing if they did, though.” He’s confused for a moment before taking a closer look to eventually realize, yes, it is a flower… with dicks for petals. He quietly laughs, wringing a hand through his hair. “The room will be yellow by the way—silver detailing.”

“And what room is that one for?” He asks, raising a brow at her, and she smiles coyly in response.

“Oh… y’know…” She draws out, and he holds his breath, preparing for the worst. “The guest bedroom.” She adds, and he can’t help the sigh that escapes him. No, she isn’t that malicious. “Did you think I’d say yours?” She asks, wiggling her brows.

“I was praying you wouldn’t.” He admits, albeit a bit exaggerated, but per Jester’s motto, where’s the fun in that?

“Well, the traveler has answered your prayers, my disciple.” She responds, taking on a familiar façade that he recognizes from their stint in Rumblecusp.

“I thought he didn’t want anyone praying to him.” He challenges.

“Special occasions.” She retorts, challenging him back.

“Ah.” He notes, raising his hands in defeat, and she smiles triumphantly before picking up the dick flower again, cutting out the intricate design. “May I ask what the actual stencil for my room is?” He asks, and she pauses again, her smile dropping.

“Oh.” She breathes, sounding a bit more flustered, piquing his curiosity. “Well, I haven’t started making the stencil yet, but here’s the design I have.” She says, before pulling out a sheet of paper, gingerly sliding it over to him. He peers over, eyes roaming before his heart stutters. It’s them… all of them… a small portrait of him, her, Caduceus, Veth, Beau, Yasha, and even Fjord… or well, their silhouettes at least. He’s silent, and she must get the wrong idea because she starts rambling, “It doesn’t have to be that, though if you don’t want it, and I can just draw something else, did you want me to draw like a skyline—no, that’s too big—”

“Jester.” He says, effectively interrupting her wild train of thought. “I love it.”

“Oh…” She breathes, and he watches her relax a bit. “Well, I was thinking of a nice comforting brown for your room, kinda like your coat when we first met.” He smiles. Brown. He never thought she’d suggest it. He can’t say he’s disappointed when a nice, rich, earthy color before bed sounds more than appealing.

“It’s remarkable. Truly, Jester.” He says, and he can see her cheek flush a faint purple from the flattery, smiling as she continues working. “I can’t wait to see it.” He adds, and she hums in thought.

“I’ll need to get the supplies tomorrow.” She notes, briefly peering outside to where the sun is already set, the moons and the stars taking residence. “Do you know any nearby inns I can stay at?” She asks, and he pauses because it feels certainly odd with her knowing him as well as she does.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” He says, “I’ve been sleeping in my tower, and your room’s always there anyway.” He adds, and she continues working quietly, her face flat. She’s quiet for a moment as she works, and he almost wonders if she didn’t hear him.

“…Could you… remove rooms?” She eventually asks, slowly. Oh, he really should’ve considered that. Reminders. He remembers scrubbing the tower for himself as well. It certainly makes it much easier. He almost kicks himself for not thinking first.

“Er—I could—I could remove his room, should you like, or at least hide it for now and… did you want your room changed at all?” He asks, and she hums again, her gaze veering to the ground.

“Could you make it plain… at least for right now…” She says, and if he wasn’t concerned before, he certainly is now. “I think I need something to readjust, y’know.” Oh, Jester… please don’t lose yourself in this… it would be the greatest loss this world has known.

“Of course, any other changes?” He says instead. She turns to look at him, smiling softly.

“No, I’ll be fine, Caleb.” She says, holding his gaze. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it… It’s the least I could do.” He tells her as he moves to get up, to get started on the changes immediately—food be damned!

“Hey, Caleb?” She asks, her voice barely audible, but he catches it. He halts, turning to face where she’s sitting.

“Ja?” He asks, though she hesitates, her gaze flickering from him to the floor.

“I’m sorry.” She eventually says, and his brows furrow at that, because truly she is the last person alive who should be saying those words to him. “About you and Essek.” Everything in him stops, and even the world goes silent. “It’s not…. It’s not fair that you both had to do that… and I know it probably makes you really sad sometimes, so just know you can talk to me if you ever need to, okay?” She asks, and he lets out a breath because he knows now his concern was misplaced. She cannot lose herself if she is not lost. That her essence doesn’t lie in her spirited joy, but this… her heart. A heart that is clearly still beating. Bright and Beautiful.

“Oh, Jester.” He sighs, gently folding his arms in front of him with a smile. “You know if I agree to that, I expect the same for you.” He says, and she stumbles at that, her eyes darting every which way.

“I—I’ll do my best…” She says quietly, and his smile widens.

“Then, I’ll do my best as well.” He says, capturing her attention again. She smiles back. “Now, I’ve got a tower to fix up, and I’ll let you know when we’re up and running.” He says, flexing his hands and rolling his wrists, arcane sigils already appearing in his mind preemptively.

“Alright, Caleb.” She says as he walks a safe distance away to do his work. “Don’t have too much fun!” He laughs. As if anything was more fun than her.

“Wow.” He says after she finally let him into his home two days later. The color she chose makes his eyes sing, aligning perfectly with the wood hues. From a distance, the design looks like a pretty, yet tasteful wallpaper, bringing this entire room to life. When he walks up close to it, he can see the cats, shimmering beautifully and perfectly spaced apart.

“Do you like it?” She asks, and he turns toward her. She is absolutely covered in paint, and he is absolutely not laughing. “Hey!” She chides, folding her arms tightly in front of her as he tries multiple times to compose himself because how did she get so much in her hair?

“Entschuldigung.” He apologizes, “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He says, and she huffs.

“Yeah, well, I’m an artist, and artists get paint on themselves sometimes—big deal!” She stresses, and he laughs again.

“Nein, it is quite endearing, I assure you.” He says, trying to be reassuring, even though he’s still laughing at her upset expression. “No need to get all heated about it.” Walking closer as she continues to pout, only for her to reach out, quickly swiping her hand across his cheek, smearing green across it. “Now, that wasn’t very nice, Jester.” He tells her, giving her a scolding look.

“Yeah—well neither is laughing at me, so we’re even!” She fires back with a smile. She’s got him there.

“Alright.” He concedes, already compiling a list in his mind of the soaps needed to clean his face to create in the tower tonight. He distantly makes a note to hide said soaps from her for a bit tonight as well. “And to answer your question, you menace, I love it.” She laughs at that.

“Yeah?” She asks, and he nods, looking around again. It’s already feeling more like home. “You should check all the rooms just to make sure you like them.” She adds, fiddling with her skirts. They do just that, stopping by every room, each as impressive as the last and certainly worlds better than he would’ve done by now. Honestly, he probably would’ve kept the walls bare as he settled in.

“Sehr schön,” He says after they look at the last room.

“What does that mean?” She asks, peeking into his view. Her face quite on theme for the words.

“Very beautiful.” He explains, and she smiles, testing the words on her own tongue, and it’s honestly not half bad. “I might make a decent Zemnian out of you one day, Lavorre.” He says, and she gasps, outraged.

“Never!” She fires back, though she’s smiling, “I am my mother’s daughter through and through!” She remarks, holding her head up high, and he smiles. She’s about the same age as when he first met her mother, certainly sharing the same genes of graceful aging. And of course, the magnetism.

“That you are.” He says, and she laughs. She then glances about the rooms, smiling before her expression shifts a bit, slowly falling in thought.

“Do you think we’ll go on any more adventures again?” She asks him, staring at the ground. “Because it feels like that isn’t on the cards for us anymore.” She adds with a sigh, and he ducks his head, cocking it to get a better look at her profile.

“I think we’re bound to go on one again.” He says softly. If there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that the world keeps going, and they’ve never been ones to sit aside in the face of monsters. Real and Figurative. “What makes you concerned?”

“Well… it just feels like there’s a finality, y’know?” She asks, though his furrow only deepens. “Veth and Yeza have their daughter now, Caduceus is out traveling with his family and taking care of the grove, Kingsley is out doing pirate-y shit, Beau and Yasha have their own family now to take care of, you even have your teaching job at the heart of the empire, and—well—me… I’m…”

“You’re alone.” He fills in the gap, regretting it as she winces, ducking her head.

“I—I have my mama and Artie, and even my dad sometimes!” She says, and he nods, clearly overstepping. Her expression is still pained, though, as she looks at the floor again. “But I just… I don’t know where I fit… not anymore.”

“You fit with us, always.” He tells her, words that connected with him all those years ago when he was lost to the world and himself.

“Do I?” She questions, curling in on herself a bit. “Because we all don’t really see each other as much anymore, and everyone’s got their shit put together in their lives, while I’m just…” She sighs, gesturing to herself, still covered in paint, “A mess.” He feels a pang in his heart at that and steps closer, reaching a hand to grasp her arm, not caring about the paint still wet on it.

“Jester.” He says, and she turns to face him. “Take it from someone who spent over a decade being a mess.” He points out, once again, both literally and figuratively speaking. “Things change, and they change again, and life can be vicious to the point where sometimes it feels impossible to roll with the punches, but… When you take a chance, open yourself up… Things get better. It’s okay to start small. You’re already doing so much, reaching out to all of us, and please always come to us when you need us. We know in our hearts you would do the same in a heartbeat.”

“I don’t want to ask anything of you, Caleb.” She says softly, “You’ve already been through so much… You’ve already done so much for me.”

“I’m not certain you could even comprehend all of the things you’ve done for me over the years, so please, if you need help, just say the word.” He says, holding her gaze. He sees her mouth open and close as she goes back and forth in her mind.

“I need—” She chokes. “I need—” Tears pool in her eyes before she snaps, collapsing into his arms, trembling as she sobs into his chest. He instantly wraps his arms around her, holding her close. He’d dirty 1000 coats if needed. “I miss him so much…” She sobs, and his heart shatters for her. He closes his eyes, leaning his head on the crown of hers, pushing away his own melancholy in the face of a Drow.

“I know.” He says softly, holding her tight. “I miss him too.” He means it. He really does. “Both of them.” He adds, and he can feel her shift at that, looking up at him with fresh tears still in her eyes.

“You too.” She says, before wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him in her signature fashion, only much slower and holding on for dear life. He can feel her heart racketing against his, her sniffles against his neck. He basks in this. This comfort. Distantly, he thinks they’ve always been two sides of the same coin, and now, even in this. Who would they be if they could easily discern who’s comforting who? It’s always been both.

“Stay.” He says against her shoulder, “Stay as long as you need.” She pauses, and he can feel her grip slackening, although he’s relieved, she doesn’t pull away entirely, just enough to look at him in the eye again.

“What about as long as you need?” She asks back, and he smiles sadly.

“I have a feeling we’ll be on the same page for that too, when it comes.” He says. She goes quiet, looking at him for a good long moment before she nods.

“Okay.” She says, “I’ll stay.”

“Gods¸ Caleb…” Jester says as she looks around the living area, the final decorations done to mark the house as fully finished, mostly darker, richer colors with slight pops of lighter ones to balance it out. “I’m like so jealous of you right now.”

“Well, on the bright side, you’ll get to enjoy it for a little while longer, ja?” He says, placing a hand on the nice burgundy couch. He isn’t sure how she’s able to picture and put together these shapes and colors in her head without reference, but he certainly won’t complain with the results.

“That’s true!” She says, though her smile drops and she chews on her cheek. “But Caleb, I don’t just want to stay here, watching as you do all the work.” She says, and he can notice what looks to be a pang of memory in her eyes, another thing to archive.

“If you’d be okay with it, we could go to Nicodranas to pick up your art supplies or anything else you might need here.” He suggests. She smiles at that, her hands unconsciously twitching at the mere mention of her artistry tools.

“Oh, and Nugget!” She notes, with a gasp. “Veth’s been looking after him while I’ve been away… he probably misses me so much…”

“Ja, I also have to pick up Cassiopea from her as well.” He says, smiling at the memory of his little girl. A small mixed breed shorthair with a white and grey coat, likely the runt of her litter.

“Cassie was there? I didn’t see her a few weeks ago.” Jester says, her eyes wide.

“It was more recent.” He notes, only two days before she showed up. “I didn’t want her to potentially get hurt or trapped while I was redecorating the place.”

“What about Mittens and Oatie?” She asks, and his heart squeezes at the mere mention of their names. Mittens was a fisty black cat with white paws, regal yet vicious. Oatie had—well—an oat-like color, hints the name, and was quite relaxed and affectionate. Cassiopea had been the smallest and most skittish of them; perhaps that’s why she liked him more.

“They… are staying with Essek, they always liked him better.” Her face falls at that, and he can tell with a pang that she’s mentally chastising herself for that.

“Oh… well, I’m glad I’ll get to see Cassie!” “She says, plastering on a smile. “She’s so pretty!”

“Then we'd better get going.” He says, extending his hand. She grabs it, wrapping her hand around his as his magic begins to surround them. The world around them shifts before they land in a very familiar home. He lets go of her hand, looking around the place. “Veth?” He calls out, and he can hear some clattering in a nearby room followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.

“Caleb?!” Veth calls out before whipping around the corner. She smiles widely as she sees him, and he kneels down as she rushes up to hug him. He smiles, hugging her back. When she pulls back, she seems to notice Jester at his side. “Oh, Jessie too, it’s good to see you both!” She adds, reaching out to squeeze Jester’s hand.

“We missed you, too!” Jester says, squeezing back before a familiar PUFF captures their attention. “NUGGET!” Jester shouts right as the familiar drooling face of her blink dog appears, sprinting right towards her. He tackles her to the ground, licking up the side of her face while his tail wags violently. “Oh, I missed you!” She says with a laugh. She reaches up to pet him, pacifying him enough for her to be able to sit up and devote her entire attention to him. He smiles before his own eyes scour the room.

“Cassiopea.” He calls out, walking slowly around the perimeter of the room, knowing that’s where she usually hides. “Wo bist du?” He asks softly before he sees her little face peeking from behind a plant in the corner. He smiles, leaning over to pick her up, nestling her in his arms. “Ah, mein wunderschönes Mädchen.” He says, stroking her gently as she purrs, settling comfortably in his grasp.

“Are you two staying for a while?” Veth’s voice draws both their attention. Jester turns to look at him, and he clears his throat.

“Unfortunately, no, we’re here to pick up a few things before heading back to Rexxentrum.” He explains. Veth’s eyebrows raise a bit as she looks between them.

“Oh, so you’re going to be staying with Caleb now?” Veth asks Jester, and she nods.

“For a bit… there’s still so much of Rexxentrum I haven’t seen yet, and of course it’s always best to ask a local to show you around!” She replies, smiling over at Caleb. Veth lets out a little laugh, though her eyes linger a bit on him.

“That sounds lovely,” Veth says, before she takes a deep breath. “Yeza’s with the kids at the beach, so if you need any help, I’ll gladly lend a hand.” She offers, and Jester stands, her hands fiddling together.

“Well… could I write down a list of things for you to get from my place? I’ll draw little sketches in case you need them.” She says, pulling out a small notebook from her haversack, the pink slightly less bright from the years worn on it.

“Of course, it’s no problem,” Veth says, and Jester smiles, muttering a quick thanks before she gets to work with her list. As she is writing, Veth comes up to him again, “Before I forget, I wanted to ask you to say hi to Luc before you go, he misses you.” His heart twists at that. He hadn’t been able to stop by and see Luc for a bit while he’s been dealing with the past two months. He’ll see him more at the Academy, though, when the winter break rolls to an end.

“Ja, is he still practicing?” He asks, remembering the innate talent the boy possessed that only grew stronger as he got older. Luc was much younger than he was when he managed to conjure his first fireball.

“Yes, he’s always been the smartest boy I know.” Veth sighs wistfully, right as Jester approaches the two of them, a sheet of paper in hand. “Oh, are you finished?” She asks, and Jester nods.

“Yes, thank you so much for helping me.” She says, handing the sheet over with the words and sketches, neatly separated.

“It’s nothing,” Veth says, folding the paper and placing it in her pocket. “I hope we’ll be seeing you both this evening for dinner.”

“Of course, wouldn’t want to miss it!” Jester says with a bright smile. Veth smiles back, shooting him one last look before she heads out the door, waving before she shuts it behind her. They stand there for a moment, Nugget’s panting the only sound filling the room as he continues to nudge her side. He sighs, placing Cassiopea down before he turns to Jester.

“Did you want to say hi to your mother as well?” He asks because he knows she should, especially if she plans to spend less time here than before. He knows firsthand their time together is far more precious than anything, and she’d regret it if she left so soon.

“Yeah.” She says, more quietly but still positive overall. Then her smile widens as she kneels down to come face-to-face with her dog. “What do ya say, Nugget? Wanna stretch your legs?” She asks, and Nugget perks up a bit, licking her face as his tail wags. “Alright!” She says, pulling a leash out of her bag. He remembers her telling him one time it was spelled to keep blink animals from—well—blinking.

They head out of the building, Nicodranas just as lively and colorful as he remembers, with an endless scent of salt permeating the air. He pays special attention to her, watching as she keeps her head straight, eyes focused directly in front of her. He reaches down, grasping her hand softly. Reassuring. She smiles faintly at that, squeezing his hand a bit as they walk, and squeezing a bit tighter as they approach the shoreline. He doesn’t complain. She needs something to ground her, something to hold onto.

Eventually, he’s led to some beachside homes, each of them painted a pastel color, suspended on stilts. They stop in front of a small one, with a beautiful paint job of pale orange, yellow, pink, and white, looking akin to a sunset. They walk up the steps, and Jester drops his hand before rapping her knuckles against the sturdy door.

“Mama?” She calls out. There’s a pause before he can hear footsteps approaching the door, before the door opens abruptly.

“Jester!” Marion Lavorre says, smiling brightly as she opens the door. Her hair is dark grey, with indented wrinkles, but as the Lavorre genes seems, aging remarkably for being almost 70. “Come in, my sapphire! Oh, I’ve missed you!” She adds, scooping Jester into her arms and holding her tight. He takes the leash from her, letting the women have their moment. Jester smiles, hugging her back as she nestles her head into the crook between her mother’s neck and shoulder. Then Marion’s gaze falls to him, and her eyes widen. “Caleb, it’s good to see you, too.”

“Likewise, Frau Lavorre.” He responds, ducking his head in greeting as he silently extricates himself from the conversation to give the two women some more space with Nugget panting and peering off the deck towards the ocean, longingly.

“Are you coming back to stay or…?” Marion asks, as she pulls from the hug, still holding Jester’s hands in her own. Jester’s smile falters, and she chews her lip. Jester looks off at him, standing off to the side, before returning her gaze to her mother again.

“We’ll be staying for a little. We’re going to be eating with Veth tonight, but I think we need to leave after that.” Jester says, and her mother’s face falls too, though she recovers quickly with a deep breath.

“So soon?” She asks, and he can starkly hear the other question in it. Why?

“Yeah… but could you have a meal with us, Veth, and her family before we go?” Jester asks, and her mother smiles. She then glances down at her evening robe, laughing nervously.

“I’d need to get changed soon, but I’d love that.” She says before she pulls out a pen and paper. “I can have someone set up a reservation at the docks for this evening if you’d like.” She adds, and he can see Jester visibly stiffen.

“Maybe not the docks…” Jester suggests, her voice small, and her mother falters immediately, looking somewhere between wanting to hug and comfort her again or not bringing too much attention to it.

“Oh, yes, we could just eat at Veth’s place instead…” She says, carefully, relaxing when Jester nods with a smile. “How are you, my little sapphire?” She asks, bringing up her hand to cup Jester’s cheek, her thumb brushing against the apple of it.

“I’m okay,” Jester says, though her breath catches. “It will get better.” He’s seen heartbreak various ways, and so often, he can easily recognize it here in Marion’s eyes as she gazes upon her daughter. The woman who almost seems to know what to say, rendered speechless.

“It will, my heart.” She eventually says, her voice thick as she wraps Jester in a hug, pulling her tight. “I promise.” She says into her hair, and he feels he shouldn’t be here. This isn’t his place. He should sit at the beach while they catch up. His mind ceases as her mother looks at him, and he can see the thoughts, see the questions. “You’re taking care of her?”

“We are taking care of each other.” He says after a moment, and she regards this for a moment, looking at him, almost looking through him before she smiles, a sheen of tears glossing over her eyes.

“Thank you.”

He just got back from his first day of teaching for the new semester. It’s rare he feels so certain and sure of something right off the bat, but the building, the class, the students… Everything felt right... Everything felt alive. He’d taught here before, but with the looming presence of the Assembly, he never allowed himself to fully immerse himself in it. That proved to be a double-sided coin as he had to stay a little while longer than his schedule planned, with some of the students having some extra questions. Time seemed to flow too quickly under their apt attention. It was over an hour after his scheduled end time when he was forced to depart from them. They wave, smiling as he exits, and he promises he will be the person he needed as a boy. He’ll be the person they need.

On his way home, he makes a couple of stops. First, a flower shop, seeing a bright array of bouquets… the table does need a centerpiece. He settles for a bouquet of lilies, white with pops of red, orange, and yellow, with greenery to fill it out. He then picks out a vase. He intentionally selects a plain white one, knowing Jester will have ideas once she sees it. He then stops at the small stall next to it, where an old woman is selling jars of honey with the comb still inside. He gets two before returning home.

The house smells like cinnamon. It’s not the same every day. Some days it’s lavender with her voice echoing throughout. Some days it’s paint, bleeding slightly from the guest bedroom she’s settling in. Some days it’s wet dog with her frantically mopping up the tracks, apologizing, though he laughs and bends down to help her out. Today it’s cinnamon. Somehow, they all make him smile.

“Wait just one second!” She shouts from the kitchen, panicked. He halts in his steps, standing still as he tries not to laugh, as he hears the commotion. “Almost ready…” She says, and this time he does laugh as he hears a slightly frustrated sound when she bumps into something. “Alright, come in!”

He walks closer, though when he turns the corner, he freezes again. The first thing he sees is the banner, gold with large black lettering saying, ‘First Day!’. The next thing he notices are the little glowing cats with unicorn horns parading around the room, some nuzzling up against him. Then he notices the table set with food, including schnitzel, roasted potatoes, and green beans with apple strudel sitting on the side, which he assumes is where the cinnamon smell is coming from, fresh from the oven. He then sees her, smiling nervously at the side.

“What is this?” He asks, and he can’t remember the last time he smiled this wide as he continues to take everything in.

“Well… it is to celebrate your first day of the new semester,” She says, and the way she says it has him sensing a but. “But it’s also a thank you… for helping me out these past few weeks, and welcoming me, and giving me a space to find my footing again, so… thank you, Caleb.”

“Jester, this is…” He struggles to find the words as his throat tightens and his chest swells. “Wonderful, thank you—”

“NO!” She cuts him off abruptly, nearly making him jump with her vigor. “I’m the one thanking you. Your only job right now is to say, You’re welcome.” She adds before looking at him expectantly. He laughs, giving her a sideways glance as she stares him down.

“Gern geschehen, Jester.” He eventually says.

“That… that better have meant what it was supposed to!” Jester says with a huff. Then her eyes train down, specifically towards his hands, and a bright smile spreads across her face. “Did you get flowers, Caleb?!” She asks, rushing up to him, wafting lavender perfume with her that’s becoming a comfort.

“Oh, ja. I almost forgot.” He says, lifting up the flowers and vase so she can inspect them. He then hands them over as she tests the material of the vase and the aroma of the flowers, humming as she does so.

“They’re beautiful!” She says, looking up at him with a smile. He has to actively push his immediate thoughts and feelings down, stomping them down from the useless depths they came from.

“I also got you something…” He says, pulling off his bag from his shoulder as Jester arranges the flowers on the table.

“UGH!” She groans, turning abruptly towards him, which certainly wasn’t the expected reaction. “Right when I try to give you something, you have to pull out your typical sweet Caleb shit?!” She asks, and he isn’t sure whether she’s happy or upset at him. “What is it, Caleb?!”

“Something sweet to lift your sudden sour mood.” He responds, not bothering to hide his smile or the amusement in his voice. Her eyes narrow at him before he fishes out the two jars of honey from his own bag of holding, and her eyes widen.

“Honey!” She gasps, coming up to him to grab one of the jars he’s holding, inspecting it. “And it has the honeycomb in it! Yessss.” She spins, holding it up to the light to see the yellow-y amber color shimmer before she clutches it closer to her chest. “Thank you, Caleb! This will be ours to share.”

“You’re welcome.” He says, handing her the other as she sets up the jars in the kitchen next to the sugar jar, the cookie jar, and of course the lollypop jar. All of which painted as such.

“We should eat, I don’t want the food to get cold!” She says, and they head over to the table, sitting in front of the already set plates.

She’s been trying to cook more recently, buying plenty of books on the subject, half of which centered around pastries, but when he takes a bite of the schnitzel, he knows she’s getting better. It isn’t perfect, a bit thicker than usual and slightly under-seasoned, but still very good. The strudel was near perfection, though, and the cinnamon makes a nice touch, to where he understands why Nicodranas loads most of their pastries up with it. Reflecting on the food, he notes they were all his favorites. He didn’t know she noticed.

“Hey, Caleb?” Jester asks after they finished washing up the plates. Well—more so him begging Jester to help her clean up, and her only conceding by allowing him to dry them, once she’s finished.

“Ja?” He asks, leaning against the counter, as his legs clearly state how tired they are after a long day like this one.

“Don’t get all—blegh—about it but… I may have one last thing for you.” She says, and he sighs, folding his arms.

“Jester…” He says, giving her a stern look. She holds firm, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Alright, one last thing.” He concedes, and she smiles. She quickly darts into the living area before she comes back with a present in her hands, wrapped in some special type of paper designed with what looks to be phallic traveler statues on it. “Should I be worried?” He asks as he takes the gift from her.

“Just open it!” She says, and he can practically see her anticipation as he holds it. He decides to spare her and quickly pulls the paper away, unveiling a leather-bound book. The cover has no label, only the silhouette of a Bengal cat sewn onto the front, neatly. He smiles, opening the book only to pause. It’s all of them, settled between two tables. Jester is leaning over, connecting the two. He continues to flip, skipping some pages as he goes through. The pictures evolve, not just in their group story but in skill as well. “Do you like it?”

“This… this is…” He struggles to find the words as he flips through the pages again. His eyes catch on one, halting his movements. Hupperdook. Specifically, them dancing. Not only what kickstarted his heart, but his change. They’re both smiling with his cheeks flushed from drunkenness… and likely something else that he’ll never let her know. He falters again when he sees something small at the bottom of the page, something barely legible, thoroughly erased. It takes him a moment to decipher before he reads, ‘I’ve never seen him smile like that, I just kinda wish it were actually for me.’

“Caleb?” She asks, more cautiously, as she snaps his attention back to her. He can feel his heart in his throat with guilt twisting in his gut. Regardless, he swallows them both down before smiling and closing the book.

“This is amazing, Jester…” He says, running his hands along the front stitchwork. “Did you make this earlier?” She ducks her head a bit, though she nods.

“Yeah… It was originally just me kinda dedicating another personal sketchbook for some more technical drawings, but as time went on, it became more like a picture book of all our memories together. I wanted to give it to you a long time ago, but I never got around to it… Better late than never, right?” She says, and he smiles again, imagining Jester all those years ago, painstakingly sketching and painting each portrait.

“Thank you.” He says, looking at the book. When she doesn’t respond, he looks up, only to find her glaring at him. His brow pinches as he struggles to recall his actions to warrant such a response before it clicks, and he sighs. “You’re—götter, it feels so wrong to say you’re welcome to a gift! Spare me!”

“Consider it a thank you, Caleb, because that’s what it is!” She says, her voice stern. “No ands, ifs, or buts!” He sighs again, clutching the book tight in his grasp. He wonders if he still wore the holsters, he’d keep it on him at all times. He’s tempted.

“You’re welcome.”

“Where did they say it was again?” Jester asks as they dredge through the forest next to Rexxentrum. The further in they go, the more the foliage builds and blocks more visibility, making him on edge, though Jester’s voice and loud stumbling behind him eases it considerably. He’d gotten notified of a magical disturbance in the area after a group of Crown’s Guard went missing. Of course, he’d been sent from his history on handling such matters, and Jester wanted to come along, always craving adventure.

“They didn’t say, only it was in the Western side of the forest where people noted some strange sounds and sights, and then one of the mages reported sensing a magical essence, though they didn’t feel equipped to intervene.” He says as he spots what looks to be a bit more of a clearing.

“Hence us!” Jester says from behind him, right as he can hear the sound of rushing water.

“Hence us.” He says, stepping out of the foliage into a small clearing with a raging river flowing through it. They both stand there, catching their breath when he almost sees what seems to be a large shadow from the depths of the river. With it being so late, he can’t quite pinpoint what he saw. “Did you see that?” He asks, and Jester’s attention snaps to him before following his line of sight to the now shadowless river. Her brows furrow as she begins to concentrate.

“Caleb… I’m picking up on some demonic energy.” She whispers to him, stepping closer to where he stands. He holds his hand out, halting her as he begins to move away from the river. It’s only when he’s a few steps away that he beckons her closer.

“Stay close.” He says as they both continue to back away. He’s keeping his eyes firmly attached to the water. Jester gasps. Before he can react, Jester yelps as she’s dragged towards the lake and held into the air by a large creature emerging from it, dark with almost humanoid yet aquatic features, adorned with dark tentacles, with one firmly attached to Jester’s leg. It takes him a moment to realize what they are, but once he does, everything in him tenses. Laghathti, demons that feed on memories.

“Jester!” He shouts as the demon pulls her closer, as she’s thrashing against its hold. He watches as it lunges, preparing to take a bite, and his hands move instinctively, speaking the hasty incantation as he casts Temporal Shunt. The creature, still clutching Jester, shifts forward in time, but its attack doesn’t land, sparing Jester from the effects.

Jester then takes that opportunity, shouting an incantation as she dimension doors back to his side, clutching his arm to balance herself, recovering from the grapple. The demon shrieks, and he can see it about to move, so he reaches into his coat, grabbing iron filings as his other hand forms the symbols, creating an amber sigil, all while he mutters the incantation under his breath. Gravity Fissure.

The ground next to the stream trembles and fractures, splitting apart, and from this distance, he can feel a pull from it, but the creature nearby struggles more, trying to anchor its tentacles to the rocks, but the slipperiness of them proves to be its downfall as it’s pulled into the fissure, screeching and shrieking as it writhes in pain. It bleeds profusely with several of its tentacles fully crushed. By the time the spell ends, the creature is still alive but clearly hurt as it hurdles towards them.

It first reaches for Jester, though she manages to deflect it with her shield, jumping out of the way. It then turns to him, and though he tries to rush back, the tentacle connects with him in a crushing grip. He shouts as he feels the slight serration of the tentacles, cutting into him as it hurls him closer.

“Get off of him!” He hears Jester shout before screaming, “Caleb, shield your eyes!” He just manages to squeeze his eyes shut as he sees a blinding light fire directly at the creature. He must be just on the outside of the blast radius because he can feel a heavy warmth rush past him, almost scalding. The creature shrieks again. He can feel the hold the creature has on him loosen, but not drop him entirely.

He’s able to reach into his coat, clutching a familiar lodestone as his other hand traces a sigil. It’s at the same time the creature recovers, lunging for him. He feels his spell connect right as its teeth sink in, his mind and body numbing before he falls, grunting as he hits the ground and a pile of ash, scattering around him in a way that feels like a far-off dream, something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“CALEB!” He hears a woman shout as he stares at the sky. Pain is radiating from his neck and chest, but the numbness is almost relaxing, as if his head has never been this light before. A figure rushes up to him through his peripheral before her face comes into view. He doesn’t think he’s seen someone like her before. Blue skin, a scattering of freckles, lavender eyes, with horns adorned in ribbon. He decides he likes this collection of features, though he can’t tell why she’s crying. “J-just hold on… I-I’ll fix this…”

She then places her hands gently on his chest before a serene burst of warm rush through him, flooding his body as he sighs. He feels his wounds knit together and smiles with the feeling. He can’t imagine anything feeling better, and with each second that passes, he starts suspecting the woman above him to be some sort of angel.

“Caleb, can you sit up for me?” Caleb? He’s a bit confused, but sits up, massaging his temple as he follows her command. He tries to think of what’s happened, though his head’s becoming a bit fuzzy. He… remembers home and… why can’t he think of anything else? “Caleb?” She asks again, and he turns to her, his brows knit.

“It’s Bren actually.” He corrects, thinking she must be confusing him with someone else. She freezes, her eyes widening at him. Despite this, he smiles at her, stretching his limbs. “Thanks for helping me, though.” She says as she continues to look at him, wide-eyed, “What’s your name?”

“Oh, gods, Caleb! Don’t worry, I’ll fix this!” She stammers, and he’s about to speak again when her hands are clutching the side of his face. The coolness is stark against his overheated skin before the warmth comes again. Unfortunately, with that warmth comes a nauseating cacophony of flashes behind his eyes as pictures form. Fires, and friends, and faces in and out of his mind before they settle, and familiarity returns as he looks at Jester in front of him.

“O-oh, sorry Jester…” He says, having to shake his head a bit as the memories continue to settle. He can tell he deflates a little bit, but Jester seems relieved, smiling as she continues to cup his face. She then leans over to kiss the top of his head before letting go.

“Just glad to have you back.” She says with a sigh, looking at him closely, as if inspecting for any other lingering effect or injury. Finding none, she sits back, “I was really worried for a moment there.”

“Back to normal.” He says, stepping up to his feet for emphasis. No pain, no headache, only the slight creak in his limbs that’s become more permanent. He then turns towards her as she stands, brushing off her clothes. “It didn’t affect you at all, did it?” She pauses, something flooding her gaze.

“N-no, although looking back I think I could feel it reaching for some of them, mainly… mainly what happened a few months ago.” She says, and his heart aches as he reaches out to her, placing a hand on her arm. He looks up at him then, smiling softly. “But I’m okay, I’ll cast greater restoration on myself tonight just to be sure.”

“Alright… thanks again for saving me, even if I am a bit more drab like this.” She gives him a sideways glance at that, folding her arms.

“Hey!” She scolds, holding his gaze in hers. “I like you, Caleb… drabness and all—and you’re not even drab, so hush up!” She adds, and he laughs, ducking his head in a nod.

“Alright, Jester.” He says, and he can still feel the lingering warmth of her spells, echoing throughout his body. He didn’t realize he missed the feeling. “Let’s go home.” He says. As they make their way back, his mind catches on it. Home. He doesn’t just consider it his; he considers it theirs. He can feel a wave of anxiety flood him as he knows this is temporary, that she could leave at any moment… But she hadn’t corrected him, only nodded with a smile as they made their way back. He wonders if even in the back of her mind, she considers it home too.

“C’mon, Caleb! Tell me what it is!” Jester complains as she covers her eyes. Her orange dress sways as she moves, reminding him of a dress she wore so long ago now. He tells himself not to get distracted as he guides her along with his hands pressed against her shoulders, ushering her further into the house. He then approaches a door, one he’s certain she hasn’t used, especially with him sneaking around late to work on it. He opens the door, positioning her right in the center of the frame before he lets go.

“I could tell you,” He teases, “Or you could just open your eyes.” He says, watching her aptly as she hastily uncovers her eyes and looks at the room in front of her. Her expression falls, as her mouth opens slightly, gaping at the room around. He’s been working on this room for weeks now. Shortly after their stint in the woods with the demon.

The room, formerly a bit deconstructed with incomplete walls and floors, now rests in front of them, complete with the best easel and art supplies he could find. He put a few other items in there, namely a sink to wash up, a large cabinet, enchanted to store many more items than it looks like it can hold, with the room enchanted to appear like it has a skylight, flooding the room with more light than the few windows can provide. He opted to keep the decorations minimal, knowing she’ll likely have her own ideas.

He convinced himself it wasn’t too much or too far. She’s been working from home while he’s away, taking commissions, although he knows she occasionally paints for fun, with the occasional painting that joins the others on their walls. With them join flowers and colorful blankets and pretty curtains and freshly baked pastries every morning, adding more and more life into the home as time continues. The home is flooded with her, but nowhere is just hers—well, until now, that is.

“Caleb…” She says, continuing to look around the room as a sheen of tears covers her eyes. “You made this for me?” She asks, turning to him. He has to swallow, clenching his hand at his side to keep from reaching out to her. He nods. “Thank you.” She says before wrapping him in a big hug. He sighs, his heart fluttering as he hugs her back. He can’t even convince himself to feel guilty about it when she’s so happy and close, nestled in his grasp.

“Regardless, if you stay or not,” He says, scrambling the courage as he lifts a hand to cup the back of her head, “There’s always room for you here.” He can feel her let out a shaky breath, curling further into him. He can tell she’s crying. The slight tremble racketing through her, with the slight dampness accumulating on his tunic. He holds her through it, and neither of them says another word.

“Something was wrong with Fjord,” Jester says out of the blue as they’re sitting on the couch in the living area one evening. Cassiopea was curled at his side, nestled and purring, now comfortable enough to sit near Jester. He was reading a book while she had one of her smutty ones in her hands, evidently her mind elsewhere.

“What?” He asks, carefully placing his book down, because despite their arrangement, neither of them talks about Fjord or Essek unless the conversation steers to it. It’s been a while, enough to make the loss feel like a duller ache to him, but it doesn’t mean these wounds can’t reopen easily, much less by their own choice. Jester pauses, taking a deep breath, though she keeps her gaze firmly on the fire lit in front of them.

“There was something… I dunno a… sickness or something, but—” She stammers as she trembles a bit. He remains frozen. She’d told them it was from life… old age, so to speak. Had she been carrying this the entire time? “But I couldn’t heal it.” She continues, her voice brittle. “When I tried, it would look like it was better before it came back stronger… I… I wasn’t strong enough…” He watches her shake, curling in on herself. His heart breaks.

“Oh, Jester… no… this is in no way your fault.” He says, moving over to her side of the couch. Cassiopea yowls slightly before scurrying away, but he pays her no mind. He’s about to reach for Jester when she looks up, and he can see as clear as day the fire in her gaze, her face twisted in a way that’s very unlike her.

“What’s the point in having this?” She raises her hands, looking at them as if they’re disgusting. He hates how much he knows that feeling. Something he’d never wish on anyone, let alone her. “If I can’t heal the ones I love… I couldn’t save Molly… I couldn’t save Fjord… I couldn’t even save myself… I think you guys were right… I’m a really shitty Cleric.”

“No, oh götter, Jester.” He says, and he can hear his voice break. He moves to wrap his arms around her, holding her close with his mouth close to her ear, before saying, “You saved Caduceus.” He can feel her breath catch, though he knows he has her attention. “You saved Veth. You saved Orly. You saved Luc… You saved me.” He emphasizes, and she looks over at him. He can still see the anger, yet it’s not as sharp. “And that is not including all the times you healed us and brought us from death’s door… albeit sometimes begrudgingly.” Jester laughs, despite herself. “Don’t undersell yourself, Jester. None of us could save them either. Blame the gods if anyone—if there are any still alive.” She’s frozen for a moment before the fire sparks in her gaze again, and she jumps up to her feet, looking at the ceiling.

“Fuck you, Raven Queen!” She screams, and he doesn’t think he’s heard her so furious before, practically trembling in it. “Fuck your stupid little fate and your stupid little symbols and your stupid… everything!” She’s out of breath, and he can hear the strain in her voice from how loud she’s yelling, but that doesn’t seem to deter her. “You can’t just take whoever you want whenever you want! People MATTER!” Then they’re silent, the only sound in the room is her heavy breathing as they pause. Then Jester lets out a deep breath, before clutching her head lightly, “I think I’m a little dizzy.”

“Let’s sit back down.” He says, letting her clutch onto him as she returns to her seat, still breathing heavily. He looks at her. At the way the tension has ebbed, and her body has relaxed. “Better?” He asks, and she looks at him. A soft smile forms, and she nods.

“…Yeah, a little.” She says, and he smiles back, because upon reflection, that whole outburst was a wonder.

“Good.” He says before moving to get up. Jester looks a bit confused, looking up at him. “Now, I think it is time for ice cream.” He says, and her expression shifts, forming a bright smile.

“Oh, it is always time for ice cream!”

Beau and Yasha were dancing and laughing in the middle of the dive bar they’d stopped at. The group decided to come together after not having been all together since… well… since Fjord’s funeral. Caduceus was talking with Jester off to the side, laughing and undoubtedly exchanging stories. He’s sitting at a table before Veth comes over with her own drink. Now, drinking leisurely rather than out of necessity, he’s noted over the years.

“It was a good idea,” Veth says as she sits beside him. With each year, it grows more and more apparent the disparity in their lifespans, with Veth looking hardly older since almost two decades ago, and him with greying hair and the lines forming on his face.

“Ja. The group always seems to like these spots a lot.” He says, taking a sip of his beer, looking at the whole group around him. Beau’s face is showing age, yet physically, she seems just as fit as before. Yasha looks a bit older, but overall, more or less the same. Caduceus looks the same, and of course, Jester looks a bit older, but not quite her age. A pang hits him as it feels like time is catching up to him faster. That he’s growing old quicker than the rest.

“Well, yes, but…” Veth starts before trailing off. He can see her eyes flicker to Jester, still chatting with Caduceus. “I meant with Jester.” She says, and he turns to her with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Letting her stay with you and all. Letting her restart somewhere else.” She says, before she smiles. “I could see how much she was hurting in Nicodranas, but I couldn’t really do anything to help. I hoped staying with Beau and Yasha would help, but it didn’t. When I realized she was staying with you, I thought it was perfect…”

“I’m sensing there’s more you want to say.” He notes. Veth laughs, but doesn't refute, taking a large gulp of her own drink. An old habit, he supposes.

“I’m not blind, Caleb.” She eventually says, looking him in the eye. “You both are extremely important to me, and… even towards the start, I noticed how highly you regarded her.” His brain shuts down then. He hadn’t had to deal with this since Yasha, and even then, he felt like crawling into a hole and dying. Now… he feels almost worse. “I don’t think I realized the full extent of it until recently, though, almost a year ago, when you both first popped back up in my house.”

“Of course, I regard her highly; she’s my friend.” He tries to start, but she gives him a look that makes him quickly shut his mouth, his face burning.

“Caleb.” She says, firm. “You’re about as convincing as Luc is about these things, honestly.” She groans before sighing, her expression softening as she places a hand on his arm. “I know how much this arrangement has helped Jester. I’m not sure how much it’s helped you, but… It’s been months, and I imagine the need for this situation for either of you has since passed.” He cringes, but she isn’t wrong. “So, I wanted to ask if letting her stay longer, keeping this inside, will actually help you… or hurt you…?”

“I…” He trails off, eyes distant as his mind goes every which way. He can feel the anxiety of it wrap around his throat, threatening to suffocate him entirely. He opens his mouth to fully respond before two figures come into view, and he hastily shuts it again.

“Hey guys!” Jester says with Caduceus at her side, stopping right in front of their table. “Whatcha talking about?” She asks, causing him to look at Veth, slightly panicked.

“Just catching up.” He eventually says, as Veth proves to be no help in this situation, simply raising her brows at him as if embarrassing him will make him confess everything he’s been hiding successfully for years now.

“Same here! Caduceus was telling me a bunch of tips to help us take care of our flowers! He’ll even send us some food and fertilizer to help them flourish here!” He barely hears her, behind the rushing of his blood in his ears, but he gets a gist of it, plastering a smile.

“That sounds lovely, thank you, Caduceus.” He says, clearing his throat when it comes out, grated.

“Oh, it’s really nothing. A feat of the Wildmother, really.” Caduceus says, and he tries to avoid the Firbolg’s gaze, as it always makes him feel ripped open and exposed. He hears the man hum, pleased by something. “Oh, this is a nice tune.” He notes, and Caleb's attention shifts to the melody around them. Some strings and a piano went from a more playful rhythm for the dancers to something more formal.

“Yeah! It’s a waltz!” Jester says, as he tries and fails not to think of all those years ago, when his affliction started. “Hey, Caleb... remember when you danced with me?” He almost laughs. Even without his keen mind, he isn’t sure it’s something he could ever forget.

“Uh... j-ja…” He eventually gets out, pointedly ignoring Veth from the corner of his eye.

“Let’s dance again!” Jester says, and he startles a bit. He can feel Veth nudge him before Jester takes his hand, pulling him up. “C’mon!” She says as she takes them to the dance floor. Luckily, his brain catches up quickly, as his body manages to pull up muscle memory.

He places a hand on her waist with the other in her hand. He can feel her cool grasp even through his coat as she rests the other on his shoulder. Then she looks at him, smiling as his brain short-circuits. His mind flashes in memory to the haze of when they stumbled the first time, him laughing, dazed against her shoulder as they clumsily swayed and moved around the dance floor. His mind returns as they take their first step. His grip on her hand tightens, and he promises himself he can do better.

They glide across the floor, turning as they do so. He notes everything different. Her hair’s longer now, even with it being partly braided. The place smells better than in Hupperdook with a bit more professional music… He probably smells better, too. Her dress is different, now midnight blue with pops of silver, glittering under the light. Even with him racking up the differences, he can’t avoid the things that aren’t. Not that it’s Jester, he’s waltzing with, and certainly not the simultaneously lifted and heavy weight in his chest as he looks at her, unable to tear his eyes away.

“You’re good at this when you aren’t drunk.” She says, and her voice… her voice isn’t different. Somehow, that pleases him the most.

“I’m okay… very underpracticed.” He responds, noting the occasional errors he makes, though overall a fairly smooth dance.

“I think you’re good!” She says, before her smile widens. “Do you have any cool moves you used to pull?” She asks, wiggling her brows. He laughs, remembering a distant memory.

“Just one…” He says. She looks up at him, her eyes pleading, and he’d never been good at denying her anything. He removes his hand from her waist before pushing her out as he steps back, right before he twists her back in. She spins in his grasp before her back is against his chest. She leans back, laughing before he pushes her out again, and pulls her back in, this time face-to-face as her other hand clutches his shoulder and his rests on her lower back.

“That was so much fun!” She says, even as they have to shift their positioning to opt to sway instead with the more minuscule distance between them. “Why don’t we dance more often?” She says before resting her head on his chest. He hopes she can’t feel the way his heart is beating heavily against it.

“Not much reason to go to a bar with someone who doesn’t drink.” He teases. She laughs, and he can feel the air hit his neck before she pulls away, enough to look at him eye-to-eye.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t go.” She stresses, “I could get milk, you could get whatever drinks you want, and we could go dance. Maybe we could even go out for food too—or go to the park to look at the stars—or get ice cream—or even just walk around the city at night, it’s always so beautiful, especially during Winter’s Crest!” She says, and he can feel his face heat as he pictures it. He can’t help the embellishments his mind adds. He sees Jester’s smile fade as she blinks a few times, her gaze off to the side before it returns to him. He can feel the air thicken, and he’s once again very aware of how close they are. She holds his gaze for a few moments before she blinks again, “S-sorry.” She says softly as she pulls away. He watches as she walks away, ignoring Veth’s knowing look as he tries and fails to restart again.

Their friends have stayed for a week, and now they’re walking back home on the streets, late at night, after having just said goodbye. The streets are practically empty, only a few people scattered throughout as the cold air rushes past him.

“Hey Caleb?” He hums in acknowledgement. “Can I ask you a personal question?” The fact that she’s asking first alarms him, but he decides to nod anyway.

“Of course, you can ask me anything.” He tells her, able to see his breath in the winter air. She’s quiet for a moment, simply walking beside him as if she hadn’t said anything to him. He’d pretend she didn’t if she prefers, though it will certainly eat away at his curious mind.

“How…” She breaths, and his gaze snaps back to her. “How were you able to move on… or when did you know you were ready to move on?” Different faces flash behind his eyes, each carrying a different type of pain. Some still sting, others are just a dull ache, and there’s always the one that sears, no matter how long it’s been.

“Is this about anything specific?” He asks slowly, and she chews her lip, ducking her head for a moment as she takes a deep breath.

“I mean, in general, but… I kinda had in mind the…” She stops, looking over at him as the words catch on her tongue. She swallows. “The grief you had for years… that you carried with you for so long… how were you able to move past that? How did you know you were ready?” Oh… has he moved past that? Maybe slightly, but even then, he’s not sure it’s something that can be passed at all.

“I…”He starts, the words catching in his throat. “It took time. I think it’s different for every person and every situation.” His throat itches as he looks at his hands. “Because of my direct involvement, that guilt and grief certainly carried longer than most, and I still have it with me, though it’s… livable now.” He explains and pauses again, contemplating as he struggles to find the right words. “I think what helped the most was knowing that they’d want me to be happy. That beating myself up and denying myself happiness would only hurt them worse if they were still around. To… to forgive myself was the best way to honor their memory.” He looks over at her, seeing the glossy layer of tears filmed over her eyes. “Is this about Fjord?” She laughs, sadly.

“Partly.” She admits, and for once, she doesn’t look so sad when she's thinking of him. “I’m not sure I’ll ever completely let go of that grief, but… I know he’d also want me to be happy. That he’d want me to remember him fondly and find new joy in my life. It’s what I would’ve wanted for him if the roles were reversed.”

Her words ring around them, a lingering lesson for them both. Her eyes drift down, then back to him, then back down again. He doesn’t ask or pry, letting her thoughts be her own. Only to have his own thought effectively subdued when he feels her hand shift to brush against his. For the number of flames his hands hold, he’s not certain they’ve ever felt this burning before.

He keeps his gaze forward, swallowing thickly as he moves his own hand, brushing against hers. She proves she’s always been the braver one of them as she slips her hand in his, her cool palms still warmer than the winter air, not that they won’t warm further with the furnace of his hands, no magic required. She interlaces their fingers, and everything in him simultaneously floats and sinks. He looks at her right as she looks at him.

“Is there a particular reason you asked that question?” He asks, barely finding his voice, and it comes out thick and slightly rough. Jester flushes, her eyes darting.

“No—well… kinda…” She stutters before looking back up at him, smiling shyly. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Jester.” He says, his voice stern as he leaves his office, one of his spellbooks in hand. Jester looks up innocently, far too innocently from where she sits on the couch, Nugget to one side and Cassiopea on the other. He opens the book to where he marked the page, holding it up for her. “What is this?”

“It looks like an amazing artist has blessed you!” She gapes, looking at possibly the most vulgar drawing she’s done to date. It nearly made him spit out his water when he saw it. Unfortunately, it went up his nose in the process, still stinging in the aftermath.

“You wouldn’t happen to know which artist did this?” He asks. She hums, standing up to take a closer look, bending slightly to peer closely at the drawing before she snickers.

“No clue!” She says, smiling, “But as a fellow artist, the anatomy is quite amazing!” She gawks, not bothering to hide the pride in her voice. She then looks up, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she adds, “Especially for the woman.” His eyes narrow, though he can’t keep off the ghost of a smile that makes its way across his face.

“And do tell me what the woman is engaging with—and correct me if I’m wrong—a wizard there?” He asks, gesturing to the two figures on the page, currently intertwined. More notably, the man with shoulder-length hair and a large pointy hat with the type of wizard robes you see in storybooks, ripped open down the middle.

“Hmm, I’m not certain, but she seems pretty enthusiastic…” She notes with a quirked brow. He raises his own at her, silently challenging. “Maybe if you leave it out in the living area again, she’ll expand on it.” She adds, finally getting to the meat of it. He never expected Jester to be more particular about putting things away, but it seems her chaos is more organized than considered.

“Is that so?” He asks, glancing at the book, then back to her. “And how do you think she’ll expand it?” He probes, and a wicked smile spreads across her face.

“Perhaps with something more… mutually inclusive.” She says before hastily adding, “I wouldn’t know, though.” He sighs, shutting the book and placing it on the table behind him.

“Jester.” He says again, and she hums, giving him another wide-eyed look. “I have to use these books for class, y’know.” He adds, and she purses her lips.

“I know.” She says before nodding over to the book. “Maybe don’t leave them out next time.” She warns, and he’s never been so tempted by a warning before. Curious to the depths her mind could go. “Or do. Have a little fun.” She teases, and he tilts his head.

“I have fun.” He tells her, only half of which she’s seen. The other half meant for more private matters. She raises a brow at that.

“I wouldn’t know.” She teases again, and he’s always found it difficult to discern the joke and the truth in Jester’s words and actions. But she’s close, and he’s had a very good day. What’s a little fire back?

“Would you like to?” He asks, his voice quieter. Her expression falls, and she looks at him, her gaze alternating between his eyes as for once he’s rendered her speechless. Anxiety begins to pool in his gut from her lack of response, but she hasn’t moved away. Is she moving closer? POOF. A blink dog barrels into them, knocking them off their feet.

“Nugget!” Jester shouts as he practically wrestles with them for attention. “Bad Dog!” She chastises him while giving him belly scratches. He shakes his head slightly, trying to soothe the burning in his cheeks. He catches her looking at him once, though she quickly looks away, giving Nugget her undivided attention.

Has he mentioned how much he doesn’t like dogs?

“It’s been a year.” She says, sitting at the loveseat in his office while he works at his desk, reviewing the papers his students submitted specifically regarding the Dunamancy Transmutation spells. He pauses for a moment. He never forgets. He wondered if she didn’t either.

“It has.” He answers as he corrects a minor mistake with one of the sigils. Jester’s quiet behind him, quiet enough to where he can hear the soft ticking of his clock on the wall.

“So much is different yet… It’s not.” She says after a moment. He can hear something behind her voice that makes him pause and turn in his seat to look at her. She’s looking at him. “I was worried I… I wouldn’t find myself again.” She admits, “That I wouldn’t be happy again.” ‘That I wouldn’t love again.’ He admits to himself.

“It is our duty to them.” He says softly, holding her gaze, “To carry on.” She seems troubled by this. Her breathing is ragged before she shuts her eyes tightly.

“Yes, but…” She stops herself, taking a deep breath and opening her eyes. “Things are different, Caleb.” She stresses, and his heart stops, skipping several beats before pounding in his chest. “And yet…”

“Not at all.” He finishes the confirmation. The thing, he realizes, she was after. They both hold each other’s gaze for a moment. Their breaths are held tight in their chests as if letting them out would uproot the entire house and flip it onto its head. Perhaps it might.

“How long?” She asks. He can hear the shakiness behind the question, the fear. He’s not sure why, what she has to be afraid of here. He only knows the weight of the question, a constant weight he’s never been able to shake.

“So long, Jester.” He admits, words that feel anxious, corked and screwed, locked tight into the depths of himself, now freed into the world, releasing a tightness there he was never aware of before. Her breath catches at the admission, a sheen covering her eyes. He can still see the probing in her gaze… she wants more than that. When has he ever denied her? “Since we danced… in Hupperdook.” She’s silent, though he can see the surprise in her eyes as she processes his words.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asks, her voice shaky. How could he possibly tell her? With everything that was happening, everything he was processing and going through, her own affections aimed at another, who was slowly becoming the best man he could be for her. The list is tireless.

“Do you regret it?” He asks instead, already knowing the answer.

“No, of course not, but…” She trails off, searching for the words. She seems to find them when she looks back at him, her eyes boring into his, “You shouldn’t have had to carry that for so long.” She says, and he sighs, smiling softly, though it feels a bit sad too.

“I’m quite different from who I was.” He says, remembering his old mind. Twisted, and warped, and rusted over to the point he was shutting down, “A man who wanted to be punished. Who only saw his guilt and revenge.” He explains in a way she’s more likely to accept. “But the one thought we share that remains the same to this day… I wasn’t equipped to love you the way you deserved.” He pauses. “But he was.” He immediately regrets his words when he sees the devastation on her face.

“You pushed me towards him.” She says, her voice tight. “That’s all I can think about. How you constantly encouraged us and shifted us towards each other.” She adds, her brows furrowed deep as she looks at him with tears in the rims of her eyes. “How could you do that to yourself?” His chest tightens at her words, her compassion even for a person no longer around today,

“I told you. I didn’t deserve you; I couldn’t love you; I wanted to be punished.” He says, and her eyes widen.

“You used me to punish you?” She asks, and he cringes. Maybe not the best wording, though not entirely inaccurate.

“I wanted you to be happy. To find someone who would love you wholly, who could put you first, and who didn’t have a dozen pieces of themself to put back together.” He explains, trying his best to get her to understand. To console her. “I wanted everything for you… and I was nothing—”

“Don’t.” She warns, her eyes furious before they get sad again, tears flowing freely. “Don’t you dare say that. You were so much to me, even then, especially then.” She sobs, struggling to breathe, and his heart breaks all the more.

“Jester…” He quickly moves to get up from his chair, moving to sit beside her as she cries. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He apologizes, pulling her close, and she rests her head under his chin. “To be honest, there were so many days I wanted to be that for you. To love you with everything I had, to be the one to hold you at night and… and kiss you—götter there were times I wanted to kiss you so bad, it hurt… but I couldn’t. It wasn’t right then.” He admits, something he told himself he’d take with him to the grave. It’s strange how only a few of her tears can rip any of his promises to shreds.

“And now?” She asks, and he doesn’t miss the hope in her voice as she lifts her head to look at him. Her eyes still saturated with tears, but with something warm beneath the surface, something he never thought he’d see in her eyes. Not for him. “That is, if you even feel the same or—”

“Jester.” He says, stopping her in her tracks. His hands tremble slightly as he lowers them to grasp her own, lifting them up between their chests. “You are just as sweet and compassionate and chaotic, and fun, and beautiful—so—so beautiful as always.” She laughs at that, squeezes his hands between them.

“It’s unfair, really.” She says, her tone brighter. “I stay the same, and you just get better each day.” Heat floods his face, and he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “All smart and handsome and kind and charming.” His skin must be boiling now, and he ducks his head, doing his best to compose himself. Jester moves a hand to lift his gaze back to hers. “You always saw me… understood me through it all… honestly better than anyone else.”

“You say that, but… You were the one who always saw people.” He says softly, and these were always the easiest words to give. “Not for what they thought they were but for the best that they could be.” He adds, and he can see her eyes watering again, though this time it doesn’t bother him nearly as much. “You did it for me, for Fjord, for—for Essek, for all of us. You inspire us… You change us.”

“You’ve said that to me before.” She says, her voice, always so loud and exuberant, almost a whisper now. “I think I loved you then… even if I didn’t know it.” Her admission cuts. It spears deep into his chest and cuts open to his beating heart. For the first time, this exposure doesn’t make him nauseous, doesn’t make him want to curl up, doesn’t make him want to wither away.

“And now?” He echoes her, and she laughs, something he’s decided is his favorite sound in the world.

“Now.” She says, bringing her hands up to cup his cheeks. Her eyes bore into his, a flush decorating her cheeks. “I love you.” She says, and he can think of nothing else. All other words and memories replaced with her voice and those three words, echoing endlessly. “As you were, as you are now, as you’ve always been.”

He brings his own hands up, cupping her cheeks as well. His thumbs graze the apple of them before lowering to her lips, gracing the outline of them as she sighs. It becomes unbearable, this force between them, so he does the only thing his body allows him to do. He kisses her… And götter, her lips are soft, softer than he imagined against his, her taste sweet as honey. Their kisses gentle, as they part and collide again.

“Ich liebe dich—I love you.” He breathes against her lips. Then again and again because his chest is open, and he wants her to see it all and nurture it the way she does with so many others. Eventually, she smiles, and he smiles back, and it gets hard kissing when it becomes only the clacking of teeth. This doesn’t seem to deter her, though, as she presses closer, halfway on his lap before she pulls her head away, just far enough to breathe and speak.

“Caleb.” She says, more like a statement than a question. He nods anyway, his hands sailing along her back as she settles so close. She then smiles before leaning over to his ear, whispering, “I would like to know.” He shivers with her words and pulls back, just enough to be able to cup her cheek and brush his thumb against it. Her eyes are dark, and he can only imagine how his must look now. He’s never been able to deny her anything.

“Caleb.” She says, and it isn’t breathy or mindless, so he pulls his head back from her neck, slowing his movements slightly. He smiles when he sees her, hair billowing out on the pillow beneath her, pupils blown wide, her tattoo shimmering against her skin laid bare. “What are you saying?” She asks, stopping his train of thought, which is hard because she is distracting. She must see the question in his eyes, because she adds, “You were speaking in Zemnian.”

“Was I?” He asks because he genuinely isn’t sure, his mind preoccupied with committing her in her entirety to his memory. “A year in Rexxentrum and you haven’t picked up any Zemnian?” He asks, his tone teasing. She purses her lips, opening her mouth to respond, but he catches her on a sharp thrust, making her keen and adding yet another sound to the new arsenal of sounds he’s decided are his favorites.

“Fuck.” She hisses, pressing her heels into his back as she regains composure. “What happened to the blushing wizard?” She asks, though her expression doesn’t indicate any displeasure behind her words, much more the opposite.

“It’s kind of hard to be shy when you have everything you want laid out in front of you.” He says as he stops to trace his hands along her. Along the curve of her hips, the dip at her waist, the swell of her chest, the hollow of her collarbone. He then focuses on her face, and tracing every divot and curved line, nothing angular about her, in juxtaposition to him. She sighs, and he can feel the anticipation resting beneath her skin. “Anyway, what were you saying about Zemnian?” Her eyes open abruptly, and she glares at him.

“What were you talking about in Zemnian earlier?” She asks after a pause, though there’s a bit of impatience to her voice that makes him laugh.

“Would you like to know?” He asks, and her glare deepens. She’s practically digging her heels into his back to urge him on again. A little longer couldn’t hurt. “Is that a yes or a no?” He asks, and she sighs, this time for an entirely different reason, before she nods. “Would you like me to cast tongues on you?” He asks, though, instead of her ire, a smile forms on her face.

“Haven’t you already?” She asks, and he smiles back in memory. “I mean, if you aren’t capable of continuing this way, you’re more than welcome to…” She goads. He lets out a breath, taking the bait as he resumes his movements quicker and more intense, making them both respond.

“I still could.” He offers, a bit breathless. The only response she seems capable of is glancing at him with all her limbs tense and her head thrown back. “I’d just need to get up a bit for the components—”

“Don’t you dare!” She manages to get out, her grip tightening on his shoulders, as if he would fly away if she were to let go. She fights fire with fire, clenching tightly, making his vision flash, and she is lucky for his amount of control in this. “Just tell me after.” He hiccups a laugh.

“We might not be thinking about that after.” He tells her, and he thinks he gets the syllables right, his mind losing shape and his ears almost feel like they’re flooded with gauze.

“I thought you never forget anything.” Her voice pierces through anyway, high and clipped. He opens his eyes, looking at her, and he can’t help himself with her inviting eyes and full lips parted. He leans down to kiss her, not as eloquently as he would’ve liked, but the feel and taste of her enough to ground him and clear the fog overcoming his mind.

“I don’t,” He whispers against her lips. Her eyes open, staring directly at him. “But I plan for my mind to be preoccupied elsewhere for the rest of the night.” The way she responds… He’s certain he could never tire of her. Especially not now. He’s certain he’d die if they stopped.

“Is that a promise?” She asks, her voice mere huffs of breath. It doesn’t fail to make his hips stutter, though he quickly recovers. He leans back, his hands drifting back down her before they catch at her legs. He hoists one up, over his shoulder, bringing his lips to brush against the inside of her knee. Her eyes cloud further.

“Let’s find out.”

Sunlight streams through the window, falling directly into his sleepy eyes. His brows furrow as his mind shifts awake. He forgot to close the curtains…? He never forgets that. He’s about to stretch, willing the energy back into his body to start his day, when he feels resistance at his right arm.

His eyes shoot open, only given a moment to adjust to the much-too-bright world around him before he looks to his side and… Jester. He blinks, his mind catching up. She’s not wearing anything. His mind is really catching up. A cacophony of emotions floods him. Some are older, more familiar, tense, and warring. Others are newer, soft and warm and… happy. He feels the new ones winning, flushing out the old ones as he leans his head against the pillow, facing her.

He watches her in the morning light, her blue hair in erratic waves, her expression soft. She’s never looked more beautiful… Images flash behind his eyes. Well… She stirs, and he can see her beginning to wake as well, yawning wide before her eyes drift open, pausing once she sees him, and she laughs weakly.

“Why are you smiling?” She asks, and he hadn’t realized he was. His smile only deepens as she leans forward, lifting a hand to place it against his cheek, her cool skin always soothing against his. His heart swells in his chest, and without the bars he had surrounding it for many years, it’s almost painful, but he can feel himself breathe light for the first time.

“I’m happy.” He tells her, angling his head to press his lips against the inside of her palm. He watches her flush pretty purple, and from the way her eyes light up, he can safely say she’s unmistakably happy as well. Once again, there’s that overwhelming pull, that force between them, and she must feel it too because they meet in the middle.

In the morning, he notes, their kisses aren’t perfect. Their foggy minds laze their actions, though it’s almost better. Her lips are chapped but still soft, and the mindless way her hand drags up and down his arm before it curls against his jaw is better than any of his dreams or imaginings. Eventually, though, with the same slow movements, they part, breathing each other’s air.

“I’m never calling you boring again.” She says, and he can’t help the laugh that comes out, ringing softly into the air around them. He reaches forward, pulling her flush against him. She settles her face in the crook of his neck as he strokes her hair in calm, repetitive motions as he basks in her. In being able to hold her so close. In feeling her heart beat against his. “How much time before you have to leave for your classes?” She asks, her voice muffled against his neck.

“About.” He stutters as she presses her lips against the column of his throat. “About an hour before I have to leave.” She hums, continuing her litany of kisses up his neck, across his jaw, over his cheek, the corner of his mouth. She pulls back, her eyes dark with promise.

“We can be quick.” She says, and he shouldn’t. Really, he shouldn’t. Not before class. Not before they’ve had a more in-depth conversation about this. Yet his mind slows as she drags her lips against his again, her teeth catching at his bottom lip.

“Ja,” he breathes, accepting defeat. “We’ll be quick.”

They aren’t.

A month passes, and he isn’t sure time has ever passed so quickly. It’s almost a haze. A dream. Impossibly good that he has to pinch himself throughout the day. It’s real, and that is the most astonishing thing. She is real, and she is with him in all the ways he told himself would never come to be. In all the ways he accepted would never be. But she loves him, and he has never stopped loving her. The type of love that rushes and recedes but is always there in the background.

The house changes again, accommodating to their evolving lives. She already floods most of the house, her things and colors and patterns mingling with his. It takes his breath away when she begins to flood his own room as well. Over time, her belongings leave the guest room and find their way into his. He clears a side of his dresser, a large portion of his closet, and watches as vibrant jewel tones find their way amongst his deep and muted ones. Lavender and cinnamon and paint and yes, even wet dog become more common amongst the previous campfire, parchment, and ink. His bathroom floods too, nearly overflowing with the things she adds, but each within its little spot.

He watches as she dresses in the morning, pulling out a plethora of items and laying them out, spending much time deciphering which combination of colors and fabrics and shapes to go with today. She asks him what he thinks, and his answer is always the same. Sehr schön. She smiles, shaking her head, and they go on with their days, always to come back together by the end.

With the guest room cleared, they talk about inviting their friends more often, now they can accommodate, but that opens up new conversations. They haven’t told them yet, any of them. There isn’t shame, but this also feels like something to talk about in person with them all together. So they set out to do just that, Jester relaying messages as they settle on a time and place. Zadash, two weeks from now. Then to Nicodranas for her mother.

His eyes dart to his desk, visible from where his office door rests open from the living room. Where he’s hovered today, pacing around a blank sheet of parchment. Words left unsaid. The lack of closure he knows has eaten at them both. They said it was the end, over a year ago, but these words, this proper goodbye needing to be written before they can close that chapter. He thinks of his face and where Jester had told him he’d last been, always on the move. If he could just get around to it.

Jester’s smile shifts his attention to her, and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Everything will be fine. She tells him, and it is impossible. Truly—truly impossible. They sway together as his enchanted music box’s melodies swell around them. I know. He tells her, and he does, at least now. The way the world unfolds isn’t always perfect. In fact, it is far from it, but life can always surprise you as the times change and new chapters begin. He thinks he’s more than ready for this one.

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