Chapter Ten:
The Best-Laid Schemes of Wizards and Gentlemen
In which complications arise and the amount of cursing in this fic doubles in a single chapter.
…
"Fuck," Beau said, summing up the situation quite succinctly.
"You can say that again," Molly said with an uneasy chuckle.
"Fuck," Beau repeated.
The Mighty Nein circled around the dead changeling—sleepy Jester included.
"How did this happen?" Fjord asked, rubbing his chin and shaking his head.
"Well it appears they were stabbed through the chest," Nott said while crouched beside the corpse, lazily picking through their pockets.
"I got that, thank you, Nott," Fjord said, "I meant how did this happen to us?"
"We got here two days late," Caleb said, staring blankly at the corpse. A fat snowflake drifted down and landed on his frozen nose. Why did things keep going wrong? Was this part of Wish? That every way he turned, every fleeting chance he had, was yanked out of his grip by circumstance?
"Didn't the Gentleman mention something about this?" Yasha asked.
"He warned us about random muggings," Caleb said, punctuating it with a deep grimace. Why did everything he touched keep going to shit? He should be used to fate's constant abuse by now, but every punch thrown still came as a cruel surprise.
"I mean we still got paid the advance, right? Not much else we can do about it now," Beau said.
Caleb shoved his hands in his pockets so he could clench them into fists without the group noticing. There had to be a way to squeeze more profit out of this venture. He couldn't afford to waste two weeks of his one-month deadline for a measly thousand gold.
Yasha cleared her throat softly. "Is there anything you can do, Jester?" she asked.
The group turned to Jester, and she pursed her lips.
"Um, I can try Spare the Dying, but I think it's been too long," she said with a shrug. Tucking her skirt under her knees she took a squat and held her open palms out at the pallid body. "I spare you from dying," she said, face screwing up in concentration. The air around her palms distorted from the magic like a heat haze, but the corpse remained still.
"I think they're pretty dead," Nott decided, pilfering a series of narrow lockpicking tools from the corpse's pockets.
"Being stabbed through the heart tends to have that effect," Molly said with a quirked eyebrow.
Caleb swallowed hard, focusing on the snow packed between his boots. "Once someone's been stabbed in the chest, there's not much that can be done without powerful magic," he said, schooling his face into a blank mask. The blood was already frozen into a red slush.
Nott frowned and moved on to check the body's shoes. "Well they don't have anything good on them," Nott said, withdrawing a small rock and taking an experimental bite out of it. Dissatisfied, she moved to put it in her pouch. "It's all garbage"
"Nott, let me see that," Caleb said, snapping out of his trance and pushing forward.
She met his eyes with a sorrowful expression but wordlessly placed the stone in his palm.
Caleb pushed away the pang of guilt he felt at that and turned around to hold the stone between two fingers, showing it to the group. "This—do any of you recognize this?"
A wave of confusion washed over the party as they looked to each other for answers. Beau's head snapped up first, and she started to clap in excitement.
"Oh! It's—It's the thing! It's the thing! From Zadash! In Jester's bag!" she said.
"Oh my god, I still have that!" Jester said with a gasp, stars in her wide violet eyes.
"Right, yeah, so it's a sending stone," Caleb said quickly before the conversation could derail further. "And each stone has an exact match that you can use to talk to whoever has the other half."
"This is the other half to mine," Jester gasped.
"That'll be really useful," said Nott.
"No, no," Caleb said, stepping forward. "It probably doesn't pair to a stone we found have way across the twin most likely belongs to a friend or a family member or—"
"A business partner," Fjord concluded.
Caleb gave him an appreciative nod. "It would make sense."
"Wait, so you think the Gentleman's on the other end of that thing?" Beau asked.
Caleb shrugged. "Well, it's a possibility, but I don't know if it's worth the risk? To use it, I mean. And we still don't know without a doubt that this is—was Lox."
"How many people do you see walking around with bronze eyepatches, Caleb?" Beau asked.
"I don't know, it's a big city," he said defensively. "This could also be a trap of some sort. We know there are a lot of different forces at play here."
"I'm going to side with Caleb on this one," Fjord said. "There's too much we don't know about this."
"Well…" Jester said, teetering her head from side to side, "I can still speak with the dead a little. We could find out who they are and who the stone is for?" she said, looking up to the rest of the party.
Caleb blinked. That was actually…a really good idea. "How many questions do we get?" he asked.
"Five questions every ten days," she said.
"So what you're telling us is that unless someone wants to room with a dead body, we only get one set," Beau said with a frown.
"Not it," Nott said.
"Not it," "Not it," followed up Beau and Molly simultaneously.
The weather in Ice Haven might preserve the body for ten days, but there was no guarantee of that, or that they could stash it anywhere without it being found or disturbed. They could only depend on having five questions. "We need to decide what we're going to ask beforehand," he said at last.
After a not-so-brief conversation, the party settled on three questions and decided to save the last two until they knew more.
Jester, still in a squatting position, raised her hand again towards the changeling's broken chest. She wiggled her fingers at the body—Caleb wasn't sure if that was part of the spell or just added flair. "Okay okay okay okay," she said, preparing herself. "Dead person, please come back and tell us the things we want to know," she said in her little sing-song voice and snapped her fingers.
The corpse stirred. Jester yelped and teetered back into Yasha's solid legs. The rest of the group took an instinctual step backward as the corpse's head rose, still cocked at an odd angle. Its chested shuddered and a ragged breath whistled through collapsed lungs.
"Um, hi, hello, we're the Mighty Nein," Jester said as she righted herself. "I think we came to help you? But we were a little late," she added out of the corner of her mouth.
"Sorry about that," Beau said.
"Um, yeah, anyways," Jester continued, "Can you please maybe tell us your name?"
The changeling didn't move for a moment. Their exposed eye was clouded, focused on planes far away. "Lox," they said at last in a whisper.
The group groaned, shooting each other uneasy expressions.
"Well, shit," Fjord said, running a hand through his cropped hair. "It's official then."
"Okay okay, how aboutttt…" Jester paused for a moment.
"Who killed them," Caleb prompted.
"Oh yeah, who killed you?" she asked.
"Human female. Dark hair. Sharp knives. Sharkfin Syndicate," Lox hissed.
"What the hell is a Sharkfin Syndicate?" Beau asked, looking to Caleb.
"Maybe that's our next question?" Yasha said.
"Ask why them why they were killed," Caleb said.
"Why were you killed?" Jester asked.
Lox took another, rattling breath. "Found the Countess's treasury. False wall in the library. Deal went bad."
Caleb stood up straighter and cogs of his mind turned. Treasury? That had a promising ring to it. It could be an even better target then the bank in Zadash. Less guarded. Maybe even no magical wards if Love's story about the Countess's disdain for magic was true. That could get him part—if not all the way—to his goal.
This could work. But if the anti-magic rumor was true, he couldn't do it alone. Jester asked Lox who owned the sending stone's twin, but Caleb barely heard her over the roar of his own thoughts.
"The Gentleman has the other stone," Lox whispered.
"Well, that saves us a little grief. Who wants to be the one to tell him then?" Molly asked, clapping his hands together and looking around at the suddenly shy group with raised eyebrows.
"We do have one question left," Yasha pointed out.
Caleb held up a hand, still processing several trains of thought at once. "We should talk to the Gentleman. See what he knows first before we use our last question."
"Agreed," said Fjord. "Go ahead, Caleb." He nodded to the stone still in Caleb's palm.
"I don't—I shouldn't—" Caleb sighed, rubbing his face. He didn't want to be the bearer of such shitty news, but at least he could do it in twenty-five words or less. "Fine." He closed his fingers around his palm, directing a spark of magic into it.
He centered himself, then mentally projected his message into the void.
'It's the Mighty Nein. Lox was killed by the Sharkfin Syndicate for information. What do we do now?'
There was a beat of silence.
'Fuck,' came a familiar voice, and the line went dead.
"What did he say? What did he say?" Jester asked, practically bouncing up and down.
Caleb opened his mouth to relay the Gentleman's eloquent statement, but he felt the cold tingle of foreign magic spark at the back of his skull. Before he could throw up defenses, the Gentleman's voice echoed in Caleb's head again.
'Stay in Ice Haven. I'll contact you in a few hours.'
'Uh, yeah, sure. Got it,' Caleb managed, and the connection was severed once more.
Caleb conveyed both short exchanges.
"Do you think he knows someone who can bring the dead back to life? Maybe a little necromancy?" Beau asked.
"I wouldn't doubt it," Molly said.
Jester shrugged. "This mission did seem really really important to him."
"If Lox isn't brought back to life, he'll need someone to take over the job," Caleb said, flicking his gaze upwards to meet Fjord's.
"You think he'll ask us," he concluded.
"We are already here," Caleb said, straining to keep his voice even and his expression one of casual interest. He needed this. If he couldn't convince them willingly, he might have to try and compel them through magical means, though that wasn't a guarantee and had a time limit. "He'd probably pay us even more than the 10,000 gold we originally agreed on," he continued.
"Not to be a downer, but the last sucker who took the job did get stabbed to a wall," Beau said, nodding towards the still-wheezing corpse. "No offense, Lox."
Fjord's eyebrows pulled together in a pensive expression while he rubbed the back of his neck, considering both points. At last, he shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but Caleb spoke first.
"All I'm saying is that we should consider it," he said. He clenched the sending stone in his sweaty palms while a manic energy vibrated in his gut. "I think we should use our last question to find out what the original plan was. That way if—and that's a big if, but if the Gentleman offers us the job, we have something to work from," he said, hoping it came off as a reasonable suggestion and not the lunatic ravings of a wizard in need of a fortune.
"What, you mean like ask right now?" Beau asked.
Caleb swallowed and nodded. Not trusting himself to speak.
Jester looked up at the rest of the group for confirmation. She rocked on her heels back and forth in the snow, making a soft crunching sound as she shifted her weight.
"It's your call, Jester," Beau said. She crossed her arms and directed a challenging look at Caleb.
"Okay. Let's do it," Jester said with a toothy grin then focused her attention on the corpse for one last time. "Lox, what was your super-secret super-sneaky plan to get the Countess's blood?"
Lox cocked their head, dun white eyes revealing nothing. One last shuddering breath wracked their frame. "Poison the Countess's flask at the masquerade. Turn into the doctor. Pull her aside and drain her blood. Raid the treasury. Leave on the first ship out," they hissed. They released the final syllable and the last of their breath escaped in a winding exhale. The body sunk back against the wall, head lolling to the side once more.
"Well that seems easier said than done," Molly said.
"Oh, but did you hear them? They said there was going to be a party!" Jester gasped. "Guys we should totally go. Wouldn't that be so fun?"
"I think you usually need to be invited to those things, don't you?" Yasha asked.
"Not if you're really sneaky," Jester said in a sing-song voice with a twinkle in her eye.
The discussion continued as they made their way back to The Tipsy Seal, with Jester prattling on about the many reasons they should definitely try and sneak in to the Countess's masquerade. Caleb chimed in whenever he could without sounding desperate, and Nott walked next to him in silence.
By the time they reached the inn, Caleb's nose and fingers were blue with the cold. Love was absent, but Rose worked the bar while half a dozen patrons roamed about, playing cards and engaging in casual conversation.
The party approached the bar, and Rose greeted them with a weary smile. "Successful shopping trip?" she asked.
Caleb rested his elbows on the bar and leaned in to avoid being overheard. "No. We found our mutual friend dead in an alley."
Rose stiffened, eyes going wide.
"Do you know anything about a Sharkfin Syndicate?" he asked.
Rose glanced at the other patrons before nodding back towards the kitchen. "Talk to Valentine."
They found Valentine staring vacantly into space and chewing on the corroded chain of a necklace while a pan of sausage burned.
"Hey, hey, hey, Earth to Valentine," Beau said, snapping her fingers.
Valentine blinked out of his reverie, letting the necklace fall from his mouth where the locket stained his shirt with spit. Truly the Gentleman had paired them with Ice Haven's best and brightest.
They explained the situation to him and he reacted with just as many expletives as everyone had.
"So we need to know about this Sharkfin Syndicate," Caleb concluded.
"Uh, I mean, they're kinda just like one of the gangs around here we mentioned, ya know?" Valentine said in his slow, meandering cadence.
"Ya, but do you think they knew what else Lox was planning? About us and the Gentleman?" Caleb pressed.
Valentine rocked his head side to side as he considered the question. "I mean, it's possible? But they wouldn't really care about the whole blood thing. They kinda just like money, so they probably only care about the treasury thing you mentioned."
"But how dangerous are they?" Caleb continued, "Do you know how many of them there are? Would they try and come after us?"
"I mean, just about as dangerous as anyone with a knife is, I guess? They're pretty sneaky, but they're not all that smart. Otherwise they probably wouldn't have killed Lox," he said with a shrug. "If they know who you are and why you're here, I don't think they'd try and mess with you? Taking on seven body guards sent by the Gentleman himself isn't really their MO," he explained. "There's only like ten or fifteen of them I think." He poked at the blackened sausage with a knobby finger. "Still I probably wouldn't let anyone go out alone if I were you guys, but that's good Ice Haven advice in general."
"So you don't think they'll cause us any trouble from here on out?" Fjord asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
Valentine shrugged and started a new pan of sausages. "I mean, I can't say that, but if the plan's still on, they'll probably at least be there during the masquerade causing a ruckus."
While Valentine and the Mighty Nein continued to speak, a plan clicked into place in Caleb's brain, sending goosebumps up his arms. This wasn't just feasible, this was perfect.
"This—this is good. Very good," he said, drawing all eyes in the room. Beau opened her mouth to object, but he continued before she could. "If we're the ones who have to do this," he started slowly, a small smile playing at his lips at his own ingenuity, "and we know the Sharkfins are going to be there, we could just frame them for whatever happens to the Countess."
"Ooh, I like that," Molly said, matching Caleb's smile.
"We're experts at framing people," Nott explained to Valentine.
He accepted the tidbit with an easy nod.
After a little more discussion on the Sharkfin Syndicate and Lox, Valentine dug out a spare key to Lox's room and gave the party directions. Led by Nott The Best Detective Agency, they found their way to a cluttered, lived-in room with papers scattered about. Jester and Nott poked around for more clues about Lox's intentions, Molly and Yasha left to grab food, and Caleb hung back against the wall, refining the details of his budding plan.
If he convinced the Mighty Nein to take the job willingly, and if they managed to work out the fine details of poisoning the Countess, then all he'd have to do was take care of the Sharkfin Syndicate and convince the Mighty Nein into a short detour into the treasury for themselves.
Say they confronted the Syndicate by the treasury and managed to knock them unconscious, he doubted any of the Mighty Nein would turn down a couple minutes in the vault to fill their pockets. They could frame the Syndicate for that too.
It was a longshot. With more moving parts than he could count. But it was a chance. A better chance than trying to throw together a hairbrained scheme to rob the Bank of Zadash. At least this way he'd have his friend's help. Probably.
"Any discoveries?" Molly asked, strolling into the room with a tray of food suspended on the tips of his fingers. Yasha followed close behind.
"I found a book," announced Nott, holding a navy tome high in the air for everyone to see.
"Anything interesting?" Molly asked, offering her a date.
"I think it's alchemy," she said, taking the date and swallowing it—pit and all.
"May I see?" Caleb asked, pushing himself off the wall.
She looked at him with her sad, puppy dog eyes for a beat before offering up the book and turning her face away. That interaction kicked the air from his lungs, and he strained to keep his expression measured as he took the book from her.
So that was where they stood now.
The blue book had neither title nor author, and the signatures were beginning to pull free from their loose leather bindings. Indecipherable lists in a scrawling hand filled most pages with accompanying sketches of berries, mushrooms, and other miscellany. A large, old bloodstain tarnished the corner of the pages, and Caleb idly wondered if that was Lox's blood or one of their victim's.
He cast Comprehend Languages on the script only to realize it was in Common already—the handwriting was just atrocious. With a frown he handed back to Nott. She gave him another sad glance before holding the book close to her chest and slinking across the room.
Jester gave a large sigh and plopped down on Lox's bed. "I don't think we're going to find anything else," she admitted. "Has the Gentleman gotten back to you yet, Caleb?" She asked, raising her head just enough to look at him across the room.
"Nein."
"Well, you know if we've got time to burn…" Molly started, eyebrows raised, "Yasha and I did find something fun on our excursion today." His tail flicked behind him as a thin grin worked onto his lips. "Nothing as exciting as a dead body, mind you."
…
Mollymauk's promise of distraction lead them back down towards the boiling lake. Despite only being late-afternoon the sun was already beginning to edge towards the horizon, pulling their shadows long behind them.
Molly and Yasha brought them to a wooden gateway that announced 'White Eel Springs' in crisp blue letters.
"A bathhouse," Caleb concluded.
"Naturally," Molly said. "First thing you do in every new city."
Molly didn't have to do much persuading in order to usher the frozen bunch off the street and into the warm glow of the spa.
The gnome inside had bright eyes and an easy grin. Molly put down an extra gold for himself and Yasha, earning the two of them a bag full of herbs and a bar of pink soap. After accepting their coins, the gnome led them down the hall and slid open a door. A cloud of steam billowed out to reveal the interior of the room.
Caleb paused, eyes wide as he absorbed the sight. The room had three walls and opened to a massive hot spring that could almost be a lake of its own. Minerals clouded the water, dyeing it a curious sky blue. In the distance, bobbed the heads and torsos of strangers obscured by the steam. A gargantuan canvas covered the sky, blocking out the prying eyes of the city and holding the weather at bay.
Molly broke the moment of awe with a pleased laugh, shirking off his coat and throwing it to one of the baskets along the wall. "Feels like old times," he said to Yasha, nodding to the circus-like swooping tent above them.
Before Yasha could respond, a nude Jester streaked past. "Cannonball!" she screeched and leapt into the hot springs with a large splash that soaked Caleb's pants.
The rest of the Mighty Nein shrugged off their clothes and gear with varying degrees of care.
Caleb sloughed off his clothes in record time to minimize his exposure to the freezing air. Like a grotesque human bath bomb, the moment he stepped into the hot spring his layers of dirt and grime exploded out from him in an incriminating circle. He sunk beneath the surface, letting the hot water revitalize his numbs fingers and melt the hardened knots in his back.
He broke the surface, running his hands through his hair to comb the old mud out. How long had it been since he last bathed? Caleb did the mental math while his friends filed in around him.
He kicked away from the center and settled on the submerged bench that lined the spring.
Yasha scooted past Caleb, lugging her greatsword as always, and settled between him and Molly.
"Why always the sword, Yasha?" Caleb asked. He'd always wondered but the timing was never right.
Yasha gave him a curious look. "Shaving."
"Shaving," Caleb repeated.
"Yeah, with my sword. Don't you remember? I—"
"Oh yeah, yeah, I remember. I always thought it might be a safety thing or, you know, like a religious thing."
"Oh," she said, blinking. "No it's just for shaving. Do you—?" she gestured to his face, "the face?"
"I—uh, yeah, sure. Why not," Caleb said. He hadn't had a clean-shaven face in years.
While Yasha worked at his face with a six-foot greatsword, he watched Jester in his periphery. She tried to coax Nott in, but Nott staunchly refused.
"C'mon Nott, just put a toe in," Fjord called. "The water's not going to hurt you."
After several minutes of persuading, Nott pulled off her boots and sunk her feet in the water, coming to sit on the edge of the spring. Caleb smiled to himself at that.
"Done," Yasha said, withdrawing.
Caleb ran an experimental hand along his jaw, as Molly leaned forward to see around Yasha.
"I think that's even better than the last time, Yasha," he said. "If you get much better you're going to have to start charging."
"Thank you, Yasha," Caleb murmured. For a greatsword, the shave was remarkably even. He caught the murky reflection of his 33-year-old self in the swirling water. A red-headed man stared back at him, tired blue eyes unblinking under heavy brows and lips pressed thin in consideration.
He looked…normal.
Ragged around the edges, sure. But the man staring back at him could've been a baker or a leatherworker or a potter. He was a far cry from the bearded, half-feral wizard who spent months alone in an abandoned castle learning to time travel. He could see shades of youth glimmer through. Echoes of that haughty teenager, drunk on his own magic, and blinded to his mistakes.
Caleb turned away. Sour taste in his mouth.
"Hey, uh, guys," Beau said, in a tone that broke Caleb out of his contemplation.
"Yeah, what's wrong?" Fjord asked, sitting up straighter.
"Um, you know," she began, nodding her head slowly, "I'm not quite sure this is a bathhouse because I think we're the only ones not wearing any clothes."
There was a beat of silence as all seven heads turned to examine the other patrons to find Beau was correct. An elderly dwarf waded past them, still in his hose and shorts, and shot them a scathing look.
Oh.
Fjord just groaned and slid down the side of the spa until only a black tuff of hair poked through the water's surface.
"You know it didn't actually say 'bathhouse' on any of the signs," Caleb said faintly. Of course this would happen to them.
Molly gave a low chuckle that evolved into full, bubbling laughter. The bright sound infected Jester next, who added her giggles to the symphony, and the rest of them succumbed soon after.
The warm feeling rose through Caleb's lungs and escaped his lips. He wouldn't have been able to bite it back even if he wanted to. The exertion of laughter sent the blood rushing to his fingers and toes, and he laughed himself breathless and dizzy. His heart fluttered in his chest and he couldn't remember the last time it had done so for anything outside of fear.
To his left, Molly's laughter faded into high-pitched gasps for air as his chest heaved. He wiped the tears from his eyes, and his jewelry twinkled in the dusk. "Fuck," he managed, before collapsing into giggles again.
"You," Caleb said, pointing an accusatory finger at him, but barely holding his own laughter at bay. "You did this. You are the architect."
Molly, still laughing, shook his head. "Swear to god I didn't know," he managed. "But if I did, I would've—" and he broke off into another fit of laughter.
Even Fjord couldn't keep the smile off his face, choosing to lean back with a consigned grin and try and come to terms with his new life as an exhibitionist.
Caleb surveyed the group, warmth flooding his chest. Their faces were flushed with laughter, and they grinned at each other, stark naked with tears in their eyes.
He loved these people. This ridiculous band of misfits who couldn't read signs and would strip naked at the first body of water they found.
He had loved them for a long time.
He loved Yasha, who exuded such peace around her friends but turned into a tempest to protect them. He loved Fjord and his courage despite his fears. He loved Jester and her warmth and the light she exuded so strongly that almost made him want to try religion. Almost. He loved Beau and her good heart and her earnestness hidden beneath an all-too-familiar prickly outer shell. He loved Molly and his laughter and his intoxicating ideology and his infectious joy. And he loved Nott. Kind, perfect Nott. The bravest person he'd ever known who invested so heavily in a broken man for so long.
He loved them. And if he succeeded in creating an opportunity to take his second time jump, he would take it, but…in the meantime he'd protect them. From bandits, and gangs, and the Countess herself. From the world if he had to. With every ounce of magic in him.
No harm would befall the Mighty Nein while he still lingered with them, this he vowed to himself.
The group's mirth settled into a satisfied hum, and Caleb was content to relax and listen to the conversations flowing around him. Molly took to washing Yasha's hair with the soap he bought, Jester and Beau joked about the dwarf still glaring at them from across the hot springs, and Nott withdrew from the springs to pick through the other patron's belongings in the baskets lining the walls while Fjord continued to debate with her about the safety of water.
The steam swirled across the surface of the opaque spring, carrying the scent of lavender and fennel from Molly's herbs. The sky sunk from a pale blue to pink then a deeper purple that reflected off the snow of the surrounding mountains and made them look like raw amethysts. Just at the edge of the canopy, a silvery moon adorned the sky, about to rise from view for her nightly performance.
Across the spring a couple teens splashed each other, rowdy laughter carrying over faintly. Caleb watched them as they broke into pairs where one person hoisted the other onto their shoulders. The laughter intensified as the kids on top tried to push each other off—sending some tumbling into the water with a massive splash. He remembered playing similar games in distant summers in dirty lakes without names.
"Hey, hey, Yasha, you wanna—?" Beau nodded towards the teens, trying and failing to seem disinterested.
Caleb hid a small smile.
Yasha paused and withdrew her hands from the mountain of soapsuds now piled on Molly's head. "What? Oh, the game?"
"I mean, if that's not your kinda thing that's cool," Beau said with a stiff shrug and cleared her throat.
Yasha looked from Beau to the teens and back again.
"You should," Caleb said in Celestial.
She gave him an inquisitive look, raising a dark eyebrow, then looking down at her soap-covered hands.
"He'll be fine. Go have fun," he said, still in Celestial. Maybe he was still feeling sentimental from the earlier laughing fit, but he liked seeing Beau and Yasha together. They worked well as a pair. He'd seen it firsthand. And Beau needed all the help she could get.
Yasha considered his offer for a moment more before nodding slowly at him then she looked to Beau. "Clothed."
"Oh, uh, yeah yeah yeah, sure. That's what I meant," Beau managed as Yasha pushed herself out of the water to hunt down her clothes.
"Hey now, wait a minute," Molly called as bubbles dripped down his face and over his left eye.
Beau ignored him as she hopped out of the bath after Yasha. Jester snickered then mumbling something to Fjord that made him shake his head and grin.
"Yasha," Molly protested, soap still dripping down his face. He turned to Caleb. "Why would you do this to me, Caleb?" he asked with fake indignation. "How am I supposed to get the knots out now?"
"I—sorry…I can try—Would you like me to—?" he gestured at Molly's mess of hair.
"Well, it is the least you can do after running Yasha off," Molly said graciously. He turned his tattooed back to Caleb, allowing him full access to the back of his head.
"Ah, okay," Caleb said, unprepared for Molly to accept his offer. This was what he got for trying to play matchmaker. His hands hovered over the piled suds. "Do I just—?"
"Just watch for the knots by the horns. They're hell to get out myself," Molly said.
Alright. Okay. This day had taken several odd turns so far and apparently it wasn't done yet. Caleb cautiously worked his hands into the bubbles. "Horns seem…inconvenient at times."
Molly gave a casual shrug. "Good for jewelry. Killer headaches some days though."
At that, a very determined Beauregard and a slightly less determined Yasha—both half-way clothed—waded past them towards the unruly teens. Jester wished them luck before returning to her quiet conversation with Fjord.
Caleb watched them fade into the steam before directing his attention back to the task at hand. He buried his hands deeper into the mountain of suds and ran his fingers through Molly's cool hair, letting the dark waves pull through his fingers. "You don't think they're cute together?" Caleb asked.
Molly blinked in surprise for a moment. "Of course I think they're cute. Yasha looks good with anyone," Molly said, watching the two women stride out towards the unsuspecting teens. "If Yasha's happy, I'm happy. But it's their call."
Caleb finished the knot and began to run his hands through Molly's hair again. Molly leaned his head back a fraction further into Caleb's hands. Just enough that Caleb couldn't tell if it was intentional or subconscious.
He ignored it and went back to pulling at knots. As he found success with the knots, his movements grew less hesitant and more straightforward. "They'd work well together," Caleb said. "Beau's just a little rough around the edges. She'll grow out of it… Well, some of it… Probably."
Molly chuckled and Caleb could feel the vibrations. He ran a hand up the side of Molly's head, knuckles accidentally grazing the pointed tip of his ear.
Molly gave a contented sigh.
Caleb blinked, realizing now he'd been conned into giving Molly what was essentially a head massage. Weird day. Weird timeline.
In the distance, Beau decked a teenager.
"Fjord, that does look really really fun," Jester said, wiggling her eyebrows at him.
"Sure does. Why don't you ask Molly or Caleb to take you over there?" he said.
Jester rolled her eyes. "Because I actually want to win, Fjord."
Molly opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it. "No, honestly that's fair."
"Why don't you carry one of them, then? I'm sure you're strong enough," Fjord said.
Jester frowned. "Uh, yeah, duh, of course I am, Fjord, but I want to be the one punching. Please please please please, it'll be super fun, I promise, and we'll definitely win."
"There's no shame in being a bottom, Fjord," Molly called with a cheeky grin.
Fjord scowled at him then looked to Jester. " I don't think—"
"Please please please please, Fjord, with a little red cherry on top?"
"You're not gonna let this go until I say yes, are you?"
"Nope!"
Fjord sighed. "Alright. One round and we're done. Understand?"
Jester cheered and the two of them left the pool to dress themselves.
"You two should come," Fjord called, pulling on his slacks.
Caleb shook his head. "I'm quite happy watching the rest of you make the local youth cry."
"Seconded," echoed Molly, shooting a grin at Caleb over his shoulder.
"Chickens!" Jester taunted as she and Fjord stepped back in. She stuck a teasing, forked tongue out at Molly as they passed, and Molly mirrored the gestured. They crossed the hot springs, and much to the despair of the local teens, joined Beau and Yasha.
"I know my idea of fun is a bit wider than most people's," Molly said, "But I can think of several much more enjoyable ways to get bruised that don't involve being punched by Beau or Jester," he said, shaking his head solemnly as another teen was felled.
Now it was Caleb's turn to chuckle. "You're not supposed to punch each other," he said, working the last of the knots out of Molly's hair. "We have overzealous friends." The soap dripped down his back, rolling over his sharp shoulder blades and partially obscuring his canvas of tattoos. He'd never seen Molly's backpiece this closely before, with all its multicolor intricate patterns and interlocking shapes. He could see where the work of one artist ended and another's began in the way the lines shifted weight and intensity. Like a story within a story. Caleb traced a line of stars down Molly's spin with a light knuckle.
Molly shivered.
"Sorry," Caleb said, suddenly very conscious of what his hands were doing. He scooted away, fighting down a flush. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. He had just done Molly requested of him. He'd do the same for any of the Mighty Nein. "Your hair's done," Caleb managed.
"Uh, yeah, much appreciated," Molly said, taken by surprise. He dunked his head underwater, rinsing the soap from his curls. When he rose, the dark strands clung to his jaw and trailed down his neck, covering part of an ornate moon tattoo. He leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head and shooting Caleb a fond smile.
Caleb averted his eyes and sunk a little lower in the water. That was a dangerous look.
Caleb cleared his throat. "You have a lot of moons and stars in your tattoos," he said, directing the conversation to a safer place. "Is that a reference to—?" He nodded towards the slice of moon hanging in the sky.
"The Moonweaver?" Molly asked, and Caleb nodded. Molly chewed on the question for a moment, bobbing his head from side to side as he thought. "Yes and no," he said at last. "I got them because I like them, but the connection is a nice bonus," he said.
Ah. That checked out.
"You're not religious, are you, Caleb?" Molly asked, glancing over to him.
"No."
"Fair enough."
Caleb felt compelled to elaborate. "They've...never done much for me."
Despite the ample opportunities in his life for divine intervention.
"Mmm," Molly hummed.
"Does she...ever visit you? Like Jester's god?" Caleb asked.
Molly shook his head. "No, not like that. She's—it's more of a hands-off relationship."
"And that's how you prefer it?" Caleb asked, arching a brow in surprise. He twisted to his side, angling his body towards Molly again. "You worship her and get nothing in return."
"Oh, I wouldn't say nothing. Peace of mind can be worth a hell of a lot some days," he said. "I'd rather let the gods have their fun and let us have ours." He looked to Jester in the distance. "Some all-powerful being giving out marching orders isn't exactly what I'm in the market for," he said, lips quirking downward at the thought.
Caleb frowned. "But you follow her, without ever having spoken to her. Or seeing her."
"Is that so hard to believe?"
Caleb shrugged, staring off at the moon hanging obstinately in the lilac sky. He didn't see the point of worshiping the gods himself. Power could be acquired in easier ways with fewer strings attached. And, at the end of the day,, he found the gods did very little to save their "favored" ones. The faithful died just like everyone else.
Quickly and with little fanfare.
"I don't believe in loving gods," Caleb said at last.
Molly looked from the moon to him with a wry smile. "I noticed."
"You never answered my question."
Molly rested his head back, jewelry clinking as he did. "Well, I mean it's not all transactional, is it?" he said at last. "Sometimes you do things for people because you want to. You're happy if they're happy."
On instinct Caleb glanced to Nott. She had amassed a pile of treasures now and sat cross-legged while counting them out of earshot. He wanted her to be happy. He needed to mend the tear between them before it worsened.
"You're right," Caleb, at last, murmured, still watching Nott.
"First time for everything."
Their discussion of the Moonweaver wound on as Caleb tried to comprehend what drew Molly to her. The purple sky faded to a tired blue as the moon crept ever upwards.
The conversation drew to a comfortable conclusion, forcing Caleb to then realize they'd gone from sitting three feet away to one. He suddenly became very aware of just how far he was leaning in and of how very undressed they were and how a strand of Molly's wet hair clung to his cheek, brushing the corner of smiling lips, and how gentle the dip of his cupid's bow was and how very deep those heavy-lidded red eyes could be.
"You have irises," Caleb blurted out.
Molly barked a laugh, looking at him with curious humor. "What was that?"
Caleb dragged his eyes away from that infinite cherry gaze, choosing instead to stare straight ahead. "Nothing—it was—"
"Because it sure sounded a hell of a lot like 'you have eyes' to me, which I've gotta say, Caleb, may be the nicest compliment I've ever gotten." The grin was thick in his voice. "Such a way with words."
"Irises, I said irises," Caleb corrected defensively. "The reds are so similar I didn't notice—" he made the mistake of looking back to Molly only to find himself on the receiving end of that overly-fond, sleepy grin again. "They're darker," Caleb forced himself to continue and meet his gaze. "More reflective…" Their burgundy depths captured the last fragments of the silvery twilight and held them in his eyes.
How could he have ever thought them uncanny?
Someone cleared their throat.
Caleb blinked, and finally noticed Beauregard standing several yards away, arms crossed with a raised skeptic eyebrow. "Uh, sorry to interrupt whatever…this is, but I think we're about to get kicked out."
"Public nudity and punching children has consequences, can you believe it?" Molly asked, shaking his head in faux solemnity.
Beau opened her mouth to shoot back a retort, but Jester waded up before she could. "Hey what were you guys talking about?" she asked Caleb and Molly, eyes wide with interest. "It looked really serious," she added with a grin.
"Oh, wasn't it obvious?" Molly asked, matching her smile. "Caleb has just been regaling me with sweet nothings this whole time."
Caleb choked, and Molly shot him a wink.
"I knew it," Jester said with a gasp. "Fjord, I told you so!" she called to him as he and Yasha approached.
"Um, guys," called Nott, "I think it's time to skedaddle," she said, and scooped up her treasures, shoving them in her pockets. Along the side of the hot springs approached two burly dragonborn led by a red-faced teen with a bloody nose.
"You know for some reason this happens every time I get naked," Molly said, grinning as he jumped out of the water.
Caleb followed close behind, pushing the disturbing electric undercurrent of that last conversation to a mental backburner as the staff neared. He'd address that recent development later.
The Mighty Nein exited the hot springs, throwing on their remaining clothes even as they already had a foot out the door. They wove through Ice Haven's snow-laden streets, wet hair freezing to their grinning faces.
Caleb's heart beat quick in his chest. It was from the shock of the cold, or the exertion of their hasty retreat.
Or at least that's what he told himself.
…
As fun as it would've been to see Mollymauk "10 strength" Tealeaf and Caleb "10 strength" Widogast join in the hot springs chicken fight, let's be real, Molly tops and there's no way Caleb could hold him for an extended period of time.
Commenters are the flannel sheets on my bed during winter, the raspberry fig bars on my lunch break, the reason I've been able to stay so passionate and enthusiastic about this story.