Above and Beyond
A “day in the life of” sort of thing - with a few complications, of course. Always and all ways, thank you SO much for reading. 💝
---
And it’s raining.
Again.
Or, perhaps more accurately, still, Cerberus thinks bitterly, wiping his nose with a tissue barely up to the task. First the Ice chambers and now this absolute nonsense. He hasn’t visited the mortal plane for some time, too long ago to recall precisely when, but he does remember one thing clearly – it was raining then too. Heavier, not this…endlessly drizzling drip-torture affair, but raining.
Again. Still.
“This damnable weather,” he mutters, more to himself than either of the two awestruck, hapless Demon novices looking up at him. And he can’t for the life of him work out what led to this situation in the first place. Sheer incompetence, apparently. How is it even possible for a basic possession to go so far awry? Just vacate the damn vessel, it’s not complicated, it’s a mortal. Honestly. Ridiculous pastime, possession, anyway. He’s never understood the appeal.
It's all frankly well beneath his station, and ludicrous that he’s here. Why the hell did he agree to this? He's not been thinking clearly all day. And it’s freezing. He’s freezing. The biting windchill whips through the steady, relentless damp, embellishing it, driving it bone-deep. Of all times for both Therion and Suspiria to be away. Who schedules these things? Nobody checks anything properly, he doesn’t…even… Damn it, he is not going to sneeze again. He presses the back of his hand against his nose with significant force in an attempt to quash the rising urge. And…who the hell is this now? He sniffles.
The unexpected and unrecognised arrival doesn’t waste time introducing himself as he starts to deliver his message. “Lord DeVille. I apologise for the intrusion, but if you cou…”
A swiftly raised index finger halts his sentence.
“Ah-HEHTSHhuu!”
“Gesundheit, my lord.”
Upon receiving an irritated, perfunctory thank you, excuse me and an impatient signal to continue, the emissary nods once in acknowledgement, and does so.
“If you could attend the Healing wards as soon as practicable. I’m afraid there’s been an incident involving Kia.”
A moment of stunned silence as the world and everything in it falls away, irrelevant, meaningless, replaced by a purity of focus vehement and singular. Cerberus, eyes newly incandescent with every bit of that infamous green fire, flicks some stray damp hair back from his face, and wastes no further time.
“Anyone attempting to contact me will burn,” he says, and in a flash of flame is gone.
---
His arrival at Healing is of course expected, and Riviera's well prepared for it. Less prepared, perhaps, for the usually imposingly stylish Demon king looking…well, more than a little sodden, really. Verging on bedraggled, she thinks, though she’d never say it. But with the look in his eyes as fiercely intent as she's ever seen, that is clearly of no priority right now, and she needs to hurry up and get down to business.
"Okay, well, the first thing you should know is that nobody hurt her, she did this to herself," she begins, adding a hasty, "Not on purpose!" at the expression that received. "No, she attempted a Media skill but unfortunately she was a bit out of her depth, and..."
Cerberus partially hears Riviera's words, taking them in as a wash of information—
...sort of like a concussion, shaken up, disoriented...
partially loses himself to trying to make sense of how things could have come to this—
Kia’s independence, her always pushing through her fears, her trust in herself, and more than that, her trust in him, he's never doubted her but she's...it's gone wrong and gods it stings that she didn’t come to him for help but he knows of course she wants to prove herself, prove she can do this on her own, that any successes would be truly hers and not due to the privilege of his assistance, but...but...
—and partially tries to resist any further surrender to...this damn...
hh-HH...
He recognises when the cause is lost quickly enough, though, turning away to cover an unstoppable, urgent couplet of sneezes in tightly crooked elbow, desperate need recurring.
“Hh-TSCHH-uu! Ah-TSSCHHhuu!"
"..thought she'd be able to manage," continues Riviera. "So we're just keeping her overnight for..."
"Huh-AHSSCHuu! *SNF!*"
"..observation," she concludes, offering him a casual blessing as he curses sotto voce, excuses himself and gathers several tissues from the box on the countertop. “You sound worse than she does, you know. Need anything for the cold?”
"I am cold, I don’t have one," Cerberus says, exasperation bringing a touch of sharpness to his tone even as encroaching congestion rips away the clarity of his consonants. It's beside the point, anyway. He blows his nose and incinerates the tissues. "Pardon me." A quick, soft sniffle. "I'm fine."
He still, for the most part, believes it. Though it would certainly be nice to be less...damp.
"So, no?" Riviera shrugs amicably. "Hm, okay." She’s not about to press him on the matter, despite the ambient temperature in Healing being notably and comfortably warm. “Anyway, um, Kia’s in – just a moment, let me check – yeah, chamber 3," she confirms, pointing down the relevant corridor. “She’s on some meds, so she might be a bit loopy, if she’s even awake.”
Cerberus acknowledges this, sniffling again, and takes another tissue from the countertop box to once more wipe his recalcitrant nose.
“You know, you’re in the right place if you change your mind about…” Riviera gives a little nod towards the tissue box. "Just saying."
“As I said, I'm fine. Thank you.”
He claims a couple more tissues as he leaves, all the same.
---
His beautiful bonded looks disconcertingly fragile, impossibly delicate, in these clinical surrounds - like she's some sort of precisely crafted porcelain imitation of herself, her mass of rich chestnut waves arrayed over the pillow, framing her in a dark halo stark against the too-bright white bedlinens. She's an illusion, a transience.
She doesn't belong here. She's far too vibrant, too irrepressible for this.
Or just irrepressible enough.
Cerberus sighs and ignores the chair provided, sitting instead beside Kia on the bed, and softly caresses her face.
“I understand why you’d have wanted to try this without me, but…” His voice tender, heartfelt. Confident that whatever the problem had been, he’d have been able to fix it. “Oh, love. I wish you hadn’t.”
Kia stirs, slightly waking to his touch, or sensing his presence on some deeper than conscious level, perhaps, and with a small mm of hazy recognition, reaches out to take his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers as she does so.
He rubs his nose and sniffles again, as quietly as he’s able, and frowns slightly at the very unwelcome thought that maybe he is coming down with something after all. Can't be. It’s just too much time spent being practically refrigerated, and for no good reason. Nevertheless, surely this...overreactive ridiculousness should have settled down by now, despite everything. Does his throat hurt? He's not sure. Possibly.
His breath catches softsharply, urgently – once, twice and twice again – and with no time to extricate his hand from Kia’s, he turns as best he can to smother a rapid, desperate triplicate of sneezes, each more insistent than the last, against his shoulder. “HUHschuu! Hhh-TSSCH-uu! Hhh...hh-HH… hhAHTSSCHUU!”
Kia fully awakens to that.
“Bless you,” she purrdrawls, her voice still thick with sleep and the Healing concoctions she’d taken earlier. She gazes up at him through a mix of delight, relief, devotion, gratitude, and desire, her lucidity mutable, unpredictably shifting.
“Gods, sorry, love. Excuse me,” Cerberus says from behind the tissues he’d grabbed earlier. “Not quite the greeting I’d intended.” He sniffles, and pushes some still-damp, disarrayed hair from his eyes. “Spent almost an entire day in the Ice chambers and then an utterly senseless trip to the mortal plane in all its – *snf!* – frigid delights, and now I… *SNFF!* Well, this. If you’ll – *snf!* – pardon me a moment…” He turns aside to blow his nose.
Kia props herself up against the bedhead a little. "Not a great day for the DeVilles, huh," she says with a gently wry smile, one which Cerberus mirrors, adding a hm of accordance as he immolates the spent tissues.
"Soooo, um...you know what happened here, right?" she checks.
He confirms it with a brief nod.
"You probably think I’m crazy."
"I think you’re wonderful." The sincerity in his voice is absolute, souldeep. “You’re so brave, darkling.”
Kia smirks. “Incredibly brave,” she quips with a flourish, recalling a very earliest time between them, and a question he’d posed that they playfully revisit every now and then.
The two complete the quote together: “Or incredibly foolish.” They both laugh about it, as they’ve done many times before.
“Yeah.” With a smile verging on wistful, Kia gently strokes Cerberus along his forearm, her expression becoming more serious. “Babe, I know you’ll always go above and beyond for me, but sometimes it’s… It’s just… I mean… You can’t always help me. You can’t just give me everything.”
“I want to.”
“Oh, sweetheart. I know.” Kia presses a loving kiss to the back of her bonded’s hand. “And I’m sorry I scared you. But I’m okay, really, I…I very am, really very really, and I’ve had lots of…” She waves a hand vaguely in the direction of the treatments on the bedside table. “..the things, and I’m not in any pain or anything so you don’t need to be here and I…I guess you should probably go home.”
A wickedsoft chuckle of refutation. “No, I’m afraid I’m going to make rather a nuisance of myself, darkling.”
Kia laughs. "Good." She grins, a little woozily. "I didn't mean it, anyway. Hmm…" She takes a section of his shirt sleeve between her fingers, briefly rubbing. "You're more wet than usual," she asserts, peering at him as if she's cracked some secret code. “Wait, did we talk about this alrea…”
She breaks off as her beloved's breath sharpcatches staccato anew; without intent she inhales deeply alongside him, her fascinated focus almost as captive as his.
“HXXTchu! Ugh…” He groans, lightly coughing convulsively from the effort of stifling. And it was doomed to fail – he knows it, and he inhales again, deep and immediate, and doesn’t bother trying it a second time. “Huh-TSSCHH-uu!” Or…or apparently a third, and after a knife-edge pause and an escalated hitching of breath, he surrenders entirely and sneezes again – powerful, ferocious. “Hhh… hh-TSSCHH-uu!” With a fierce sniffle, he presses the back of his hand against his nose with a determination verging on brutal, but the insistent itch still unsated has his breath catching again. Brow creased, he gives over, capitulating altogether to the demanding need. “AAHHTSSCHHUU! Gods, fuck.”
Kia loses herself to assorted altered states for a moment. "Bless you, you’re so gorgeous, oh my god,” she effuses, rush-of-energy lustlaced, and sends Cerberus a Mindsent doubled-up :Bless you bless you I love you: as he excuses himself, apologises and takes a very necessary moment of recovery.
A realisation occurs to Kia, watching him now, and she voices it: a soft but matter-of-fact you’re getting a cold.
Cerberus almost manages to begin some sort of unconvincing rebuttal, but Kia holds up her hand in a gentle interruption. “It's alright, you're very sexy so you’re allowed to be a bit dumb about some stuff," she says.
She gives a light giggle at his raised eyebrow and wry shake of his head, smiling, in response. Gazing at him both sweetly and covetously for just a little longer, the spike of energy rapidly fading, the state she’s in, she mumbles you work too hard, you know as she passes him the bedside tissue box with a kiss, before closing her eyes and curling up against his chest with a soft sound of contentment.
Cerberus strokes her hair, kisses the top of her head as he embraces her. “When you’re well, we can go through the Media process of your choosing together, if you’d like,” he murmurs.
“Nuh-uh.” She taps his arm twice in drowsy correction. “When you’re well, we can.”
A knowing, indulgent smile curves her lips, and she curls up closer still.
---
20 notes
·
View notes
so jump and i'm jumping (just a human)
AO3 Link
Beau broke free of the numbing buzz blurring her thoughts to an intense ringing in her ears and a blinding flash of white.
Usually, Beau could break free of mental suggestions with ease, but it had taken her longer than usual to shake this particular spell off. The threads of the unfamiliar magic clung with more stubbornness, more of a ‘fingernails digging into her brain’ kind of way, compared to other spells Beau had experienced.
As she blinked her gaze into focus, her gut swooped in a moment of weightlessness, the air rippling the way transportation magic usually felt, before the sensation and white-out ceased. The world tumbled hazily back into focus as Beau stumbled over her own feet and crumpled gracelessly to the ground. She coughed around the tight breathlessness grabbing at her ribs and attempted to lift a hand to her face.
Something at her wrist rattled, restricting her movement and digging into the base of her thumb. With a wince, Beau peered down at her hands, only to find them stuck behind her back with shackles around her wrists. She distinctly did not remember obtaining them. There was a phantom ache around her ankles that made her think she might have had shackles around her ankles recently, but those were now absent.
Exhaling a sharp huff of frustration, Beau twisted around to quickly inspect the metal, searching for runes and finding none. She managed to slip her lock pick free of her belt with deft fingers and got to work. It was challenging, trying to pick a lock she couldn’t see, but this was far from the first time Beau had done this. Working against a power like the Cerberus Assembly landed one in a variety of situations, after all. Once she got her first wrist free, it was much easier to swing her other wrist around in front of her and keep working. Beau was almost done freeing her second wrist when a heavy shift sounded behind her.
Whirling around as she spun to her feet, Beau ground her back foot into the ashy dirt, ready to kick off into a fight. Instead, she found herself staring down at Caleb a few feet away as he pushed himself off the ground.
“Caleb,” Beau said, relieved, as she finished removing the second shackle. “Shit, man. Are you okay?”
Beau shook out her wrists and strode over to his side, hooking a hand under his arm to hoist him upright. He leaned his weight into her, trusting the familiar strength of her grip to keep him steady. Caleb’s mouth moved, but no words came out. He paused, brow furrowing in confusion, before he tried again.
“What’s wrong?” Beau readjusted her grip, sliding her hand to his elbow and holding fast. Her eyes flicked over his face, throat, chest - scanning for injuries but finding nothing.
Caleb’s hand drifted up to his neck, fingertips knocking against the heavy weight of the mage collar encircling his throat. His eyes went wide, locking onto Beau’s face with poorly concealed panic.
“Shit,” Beau swore with emphasis, running a hand down her face. “Fuck…I need to get that thing off of you. How did we do this last time?”
Caleb pointed a trembling finger at her lock picking tools still gripped in one hand. Beau held them up and raised one eyebrow, surprised.
“No magic involved?” Caleb shook his head at her and gestured to the back of the collar where the clasp sat below the base of his skull. “Okay, hold still.”
Beau stepped up behind Caleb, inspecting the lock for a moment before setting to work on it. It was more intricate than most locks Beau worked on, designed to be untouched and scarcely removed. Determined, Beau kept working at it until one of the picks almost slipped from her grip.
“Fuck, I can’t get it,” Beau sighed, stepping back and pocketing her tools. She twisted her fingers into the sleeve of Caleb’s coat as he turned to her, expression complicated. “Let’s figure out where we are and settle down somewhere, then I’ll try again. I promise.”
Caleb hesitated for a moment, then gave Beau a sharp nod and folded his arms tightly over his chest. Beau chewed on the inside of her cheek as she finally looked around, taking in their surroundings for the first time.
Everything around them was shaded unnaturally. They were within a shallow ravine, standing in the middle of a familiar graveyard battlefield they had encountered before. The sky above them was threaded through with multicolored lines, the ley lines made visible by the solstice and whatever had occurred at the Key.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Beau grumbled. “We’re in Blightshore.” Caleb’s lips thinned as he nodded his agreement, peering around them beside her. “At least we’re back on Wildemount, but this isn’t exactly the most helpful place to be.”
Turning to look over her shoulder, Beau pointed to a large rock nearby, sitting just over the cusp of the ravine slope.
“Let’s just…sit over there and regroup, come up with some sort of plan.”
Caleb stuck close to her shoulder as they navigated out of the ravine. He was usually not the most talkative, but they had gotten better at talking to each other at least over the years. Caleb was rarely so quiet with her, and his silence in such a desolate place did nothing for her nerves.
Beau kept up a steady scan around the area as they approached the rock, not wanting to be caught up in anything dangerous while Caleb’s magic was restricted. She bullied Caleb to sit with his back against the stone as she took another scan around them. Seeing nothing that had the intent to kill them, Beau flopped down next to him and pulled her tools out again.
“Let me try the lock again.” Caleb twisted so she could reach the lock without protest, clearly eager to be divested of his invention. Beau couldn’t blame him.
A couple minutes later, Beau swore, resisting the temptation to chuck her lock picks as far as she could in frustration. Instead, she shoved them back into her belt pouch and tucked her knees toward her chest.
“I’m sorry, man,” Beau muttered. “I can’t get it.”
Caleb slowly leaned back against the rock once more. He reached over and settled a hand against her arm for a moment. Beau couldn’t be sure if he was reassuring her or himself.
“What do you think happened to those other assholes? Bell Hell or whatever?”
Caleb straightened, fumbling with his pocket for a moment before pulling out a Sending stone and thrusting it at Beau.
“Shit, that’s right,” Beau muttered, grabbing it and smoothing her thumb over the rune.
“Hey, it’s Beau. Did your group survive? What happened? We ended up in Wildemount. Where are all of you?”
Beau waited, watching as the soft glow of the stone faded away, indicating her words Sent and the spell drifting off. A moment passed before a faint buzzing began to itch at her ear, pressure swelling rapidly behind her eyes with it. Startled, Beau dropped the stone and pressed a hand to her brow, digging in to try and alleviate the pressure. Caleb’s hand tugged at her elbow as he soundlessly worried.
The buzzing and pressure built and built before abruptly cutting off. Beau blinked, vision fuzzy from the pain as she stared down at the stone.
“That didn’t work,” Beau croaked. “I just heard buzzing and got a killer headache.” She glanced up at the sky, staring at the bright, pulsing ley lines Caleb had often described to her where they sat visible, taut and streaking across the sky.
“Seems like something is fucking with magic,” Beau muttered. “Let’s not try that again anytime soon.”
Caleb glanced up at the sky alongside her, lips thinning with displeasure before he nodded his agreement.
“Sucks that it couldn’t fuck with the magic on the collar and turn it off,” Beau grumbled, glancing at Caleb.
He smirked and reached over to shove gently at her shoulder.
It was a sobering thought, though. To think that if the collars had been affected, it would mean a lot of dangerous mages - including one Trent Ikithon - would have suddenly been free to utilize their magic. Beau didn’t even want to think about the numerous wards in the Soul, hoping against hope that those hadn’t been damaged.
“Well,” Beau sighed after a heavy few minutes of silence, tipping her head back against the rock and pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. “We have a few options. If I remember that crusty map right, there isn’t much in the way of civilization out here. There’s that one Cerberus Assembly outpost, New Haxon, not far from where we are. I think another place up north - Ghor Veil? No that’s not it. Fuck, what was it called?”
Beau waited for Caleb to say something before remembering he couldn’t. She grumbled about their luck as she dug out her notebook and shoved it and a writing tool into his hands. He didn’t need to be told what to do with the items, immediately flipping to a blank page and scrawling the name of the town out.
Ghor Veles.
“That’s the fuck,” Beau nodded. “Ghor Veles. I know nothing about that place, but it’s somewhat walkable from here.”
Caleb scribbled out a quick note beneath the prior one and nudged her elbow with the journal.
Both are less than ideal.
“Yeah,” Beau sighed, raking her fingers back through her hair. “We take a huge risk by attempting to find help in New Haxon given its affiliation. Our other other option is we trek through the mountains to get to Rosohna, hope the Bright Queen is home, and willing to help. Third option is Ghor Veles but like I said, we know next to dick about what really goes on there.”
Caleb stared into the middle distance for a long moment before writing in Beau’s journal. He tipped it her way, twiddling the pencil between his fingers.
The risk of going to New Haxon is too great, especially for us. I agree that Ghor Veles is not worth it either. I do not love the idea of hiking through the mountains without my magic, but we have faced worse before. Rosohna is our best bet.
“Yeah, it’s looking that way,” Beau agreed. “I guess we should start hiking, then. It’ll almost be like that time we walked to Xhorhas chasing Yeza.”
Caleb leveled her a flat but faintly amused look. He wrote another note as Beau pushed to her feet and stretched out her limbs, wrists still aching slightly from the cuffs and chains. She paused mid-stretch when Caleb extended the journal up to her.
At least then we were sheltered underground and had Jester reading that porn book to entertain us.
Beau laughed, short and loud, the sound echoing slightly in the open space around them.
“That’s fair,” Beau chuckled. “Unfortunately, I didn’t think to bring entertainment along this time.”
Caleb huffed with a smirk as he pushed to his feet and pocketed Beau’s journal and pencil. He paused long enough to pop his back before looking at her expectantly.
“Alright, let’s get this shit show on the road,” Beau sighed, bouncing on her toes. “Which way is north?”
Caleb pointed and Beau grabbed his wrist to point him slightly off to the left. “Northwest, then. To Rosohna.”
Beau clocked the moment Caleb took to mentally pull up the map they had poured over together a while ago. He blinked and nodded, falling easily in stride beside her as they headed for the mountains in the distance.
There was a pit in Beau’s stomach as they walked, her thoughts wandering to the other side of Wildemount, out to the Lucidian Ocean, and drifting distantly to wherever their wandering companions were. The solstice left a lot of things up in the air, how it might have affected the rest of the world. She wished she could at the very least contact Yasha, to make sure she was okay.
She glanced sidelong at Caleb, reaching over to tap his elbow.
“How’s Essek? When did you last hear from him?”
Caleb furrowed his brow at her in question even as he reached into his pockets to pull out her journal.
I saw him a few days ago, before we left. Why do you ask?
It was infuriating how neat his handwriting was despite the fact they were actively walking. Beau shrugged and tucked her hands into the deep pockets of her pants.
“Just asking. I was thinking about Yasha, and I realized I hadn’t asked you about Essek in a while.”
Caleb turned his face forward as they kept walking before he wrote another note for her.
We will see them again, Beauregard.
“I know,” Beau said, voice gone quiet with the weight of otherwise. “I just…”
She gestured at their dismal surroundings bitterly. “Not great odds, is all.”
Caleb’s hand landed on her shoulder, a familiar, welcome weight. She glanced over out of reflex, expecting him to be holding her journal out with another comment. Instead, he stared back at her with that familiar depth of understanding in his eyes, squeezing her arm. As much as they had gotten better at talking to one another over their years working together, they were even better at communicating like this, with conspiratory glances and silent gestures. They weren’t always afforded the safety of being able to speak on missions, so their silent language had developed as a necessity and stuck around out of comfort and ease of use.
Beau nodded her thanks, the gesture saying everything she didn’t know how to.
It took them the rest of the day to get closer to the mountains, the unnatural shadows around them giving way to complete darkness in a slow crawl. Beau found them a collection of misshapen boulders to hunker down by for the night. Even if Caleb hadn’t been lacking the ability to light a quick magical fire, Beau figured they were better off in the darkness. They didn’t know the extent of what creatures might lurk in these barren plains, so it was better not to provide a target. She bullied Caleb into sleeping first, pulling her goggles over her eyes to keep watch.
The silence pressed in, broken only by the occasional, quiet howl of the wind through the ancient graveyard.
Beau didn’t mind camping out like this - it reminded her of their early adventuring days. But she missed the rest of their friends and the cozy cramp of the dome with a fierce ache.
Caleb’s back was pressed against her thigh, his breathing even and slow. Beau carefully pressed her thigh a little harder against his back and dropped a hand to his slumbering shoulder, grounding herself with his presence.
They would make it home, one way or another.
–
They spent the entire next day trekking through the barren, ashy dirt of Blightshore, drawing steadily closer to the mountains, before hunkering down for the night. It was a repeat of the night before, undisturbed except for the wind. The day after that, it was midmorning, according to Caleb, when they came to a brief halt at the base of the mountains.
They had managed to avoid actually hiking through the mountains to get to Xhorhas when they were chasing Yeza, instead trekking through tunnels beneath the peaks. They didn’t have that option this time around. Beau turned a wry smirk to Caleb and gestured in front of them.
“Ready?”
Caleb shook his head even as he shrugged - a clear, silent commiseration of no, but we have no other choice.
Beau knew that painfully. She had tried to unlock the collar again after waking up this morning, and nearly broke her lock pick for her efforts. So, magic was still out of the question.
The rest of their day was spent hiking up the gradual slopes of the Penumbra Range, Beau chatting aimlessly at Caleb, pausing every now and again to allow him to write a response or give her a look. He seemed relatively unbothered by her stream of consciousness - almost amused by it even.
She had never said it out loud to him, but Beau had a feeling Caleb knew anyway. She never did well with silence unless it had a purpose - like when they were in the library or sneaking around somewhere. Silence when there could be chatter grated on old wounds and frayed childhood nerves. Growing up, it meant someone was mad - usually her father. Beau would never dream of likening Caleb to her father, but the ringing, weighted silence was an easy comparison.
So Beau talked and Caleb listened as they hiked.
She fell silent a few times, ducking behind trees and sparse underbrush when creatures prowled past. The last thing they needed was an encounter with Caleb defenseless.
Soon enough, the shadows were deepening and Caleb signaled to her that sunset was upon them. Beau scouted out another sheltered place for them to hunker down for the night, grateful for the lack of excitement during the day. Her legs and back ached with a low muscle burn after a whole day spent moving. It was familiar and almost comforting as she stretched out once they were settled.
Caleb silently insisted that she sleep first this time, gesturing empathetically for her goggles and all but tucking her into her bedroll.
The space behind Beau’s ribs ached with something hollow and longing as she settled, missing their friends and the dome yet again. She reached out, fumbling the darkness, to snag and twist her fingers in the hem of Caleb’s coat. His warm fingers settled over her wrist in response, squeezing once and resting against her pulse as she drifted off.
–
“I mean, I can’t really speak to neighborly etiquette based on how I grew up, but I think inviting herself over to dinner once a week is a bit much.”
Caleb snorted at her shoulder as they trekked up a slow incline, still heading steadily northwest. He scribbled as they walked, Beau glancing around them as she waited for his reply, staying ever vigilant despite their lack of encounters thus far.
It is not proper, I can assure you. I’m surprised Yasha hasn’t cursed her out of the house yet.
“Me too, actually,” Beau laughed, twirling two ball bearings in circles around each other in her palm. “I think she actually finds Martina’s cooking advice helpful, though, so she’s trying to stay somewhat on good terms. But if she makes one more underhanded comment about our living room decor, I might actually put my foot up her ass.”
Caleb smirked, shoulders twitching with repressed laughter as he shook his head fondly, likely picturing Beau doing exactly that.
Beau opened her mouth to say something else, intent on making him laugh again, before she paused, eyes flicking sideways and steps faltering. Caleb froze beside her, instinct taking over as he shifted closer to Beau’s shoulder, one hand instinctively twitching for useless spell components as the other tucked the journal away.
She thought she had heard something, but a quick scan revealed nothing. Beau knew better than to let her guard down. She reached for Caleb, fingers curling around his wrist, tapping out a coded pattern they were both long familiar with.
Heard something, nothing in sight. Stay alert.
Caleb tapped back an affirmative and shifted so they were back to back, scanning in every direction. Beau kept her hand around his wrist, a point of contact and communication.
A twig snapped off to Beau’s left, her head whipping around at the same time as Caleb’s. She had a moment to clock where the underbrush shivered and push Caleb behind her, before the beast exploded out of hiding. Beau had no idea what creature she was looking at, but it was snarling and had claws extended toward them.
She whipped out her staff just in time to push it up against the claws, taking the gouges to her forearms above where her bracers ended, rather than her torso. Beau grit her teeth through the sting and shoved the beast away from her with a solid kick to its soft underbelly. Before it even landed, she whirled to gain momentum and cracked the staff across the creature’s head, driving it further back.
Her arms throbbed with the new wounds, the edges of them already a sickly looking color, Beau realizing with a sharp shock that the beast’s claws were poisonous. Dancing back a few rapid steps, Beau breathed deep and focused on neutralizing the numbing poison in her veins.
Beau had sacrificed her grip on Caleb to fight back. She took half a second to shoot a look over her shoulder to locate him. He was nearby, back pressed flat against the trunk of a tree and eyes wide. He was unscathed, which was all that mattered in that half second to Beau.
“Don’t let it scratch you,” Beau shouted at Caleb, rushed and breathless. “It’s poisonous.”
The creature snarled as it lunged toward Beau, refocusing her. She ducked sideways under the swipe of claws, shifting her staff to one hand as she rolled to free up her fist as she lashed out, attempting to stun it. Beau narrowed her eyes as the creature groaned and stumbled before shaking off her attempt. She cursed herself for not spending more time trying to find information about the creatures that lived in this area - not that she could have prepared for this situation.
A decent sized rock suddenly struck the creature in the back of the head, jarring it. The beast twisted around with a low growl, stalking toward where Caleb was still pressed against a tree, hand extended.
“Oh no you don’t,” Beau said, voice laced with venom. She lashed out as the creature stepped away, driving the metal of her gauntlet into the joint of its back leg. She was rewarded with a howl of pain and the beast’s attention back on her.
As it turned, she swung down with her staff, managing to get a good strike on one shoulder before it lashed out, Beau scarcely dodging what would have resulted in a shredded abdomen. Caleb launched another rock at the beast, Beau seeing it happen this time, understanding that he was able to throw it so hard because he was using magic. Baffled, Beau missed the beast slashing at her, claws finally catching her in the side, cutting deep. A second swipe caught her without claws on the shoulder, but sent her sprawling to the ground and knocking her head against something painfully solid.
“Shit,” Beau wheezed, stumbling sideways a step as she dazedly scrambled to her feet, not quite out of its reach. The beast in front of her went fuzzy at the edges, the world tinting gray as her fingers somehow went numb and flared with painful heat simultaneously. Her head throbbed as her ribs ached fiercely and her muscles screamed, the wound stinging in the cold, open air as new poison coursed through her bloodstream. “Shit.”
The beast prowled in a wide arc, clearly still trying to get past her reach to Caleb, likely seeing him as weaker, easier prey. Beau stumbled through a hasty side-step, putting herself firmly between the beast and Caleb. Beau hacked a painful cough as she did, tasting coppery blood on her tongue. She could practically feel his silent glare of protest boring into the back of her head, but Beau didn’t acknowledge his displeasure. This was an old, familiar dance - putting herself between Caleb and the danger. She couldn’t look away from the beast until it was dead or gone.
It couldn’t be allowed to get to Caleb.
Tightening her grip around her staff, Beau bared her bloody teeth back at the beast and tensed the muscles in her legs, waiting. She exhaled, shaky and painful as the beast’s muscles rippled beneath its hide, coiled to strike again.
After another tense moment of stillness, the beast leapt, claws extended and jaws parted. Beau flipped her staff deftly and swung it like a bat in a desperate surge of strength, catching the beast across the lower jaw and miraculously sending it sprawling off to the side with a yelp. She stumbled sideways, vision spinning, before grinding her heels into the dirt and putting herself back in place in front of Caleb.
The beast got up slowly, glared at Beau, and clearly decided this meal wasn’t worth it. It turned and limped quickly away, tail flicking as it vanished into the underbrush.
Beau heaved as her knees buckled, staff clattering out of her hands. Her vision went mostly gray, entirely unfocused. She struggled to find her mental footing for a moment, anchoring herself to slowly neutralize the poison eating away at her insides.
Warm hands grabbed Beau’s upper arms, a body encompassing her available vision. Beau looked up, the simple action of lifting her head taking nearly all of her remaining energy. She was confused by her fatigue for a moment, knowing the poison was no longer a threat. Then she spotted the amount of blood on her clothes.
Caleb’s frantic face swam into view, unscathed.
“Oh,” Beau wheezed. “Hey.”
Caleb huffed, one hand moving to the side of her face as his eyes flicked over her, his hand coming away heavily stained with the blood in her hair. The skin at the corners of his eyes tightened, saying more than he ever could with words.
“I’m good,” Beau mumbled, earning herself a patented exasperated Caleb stare. He shook his head at her before glancing around. Beau didn’t know what he was looking for and she was too tired to try and talk again. His hand was still on the side of her face, warm and steady, so she leaned more of her weight into his palm. Caleb wasn’t nearly as physically steady as she was, but Beau trusted him to catch her.
Caleb’s bright blue eyes flicked to her as she leaned into him, shining with concern as his free hand moved to brush her hair off her forehead. The motion was so achingly gentle and foreign it almost made Beau cry. He had done it a few times before, usually when Beau was sick or gravely injured, a gesture borne of comfort and a reminder that she wasn’t alone. With Jester, Yasha, and Caduceus all chasing after Beau with healing at their fingertips, her suffering never lasted long. Those few times she had to wait or ride an illness out, Caleb was there.
Beau could almost hear him, his usual comfort phrase of, ‘just breathe, Beauregard. I am here.’
Beau grabbed at his coat, twisting her numb, bloody fingers into the worn fabric.
Caleb tapped his fingers rapidly against Beau’s cheek, prompting her eyes open. Beau hadn’t realized they had fluttered shut as she got lost in thought, alarmed at the realization but unable to find the energy to show it.
He stared back at her, face drawn even as he flashed Beau a tight grin when she focused on his face. Caleb pulled back to point at an opening in the nearby rocky slope of the mountain. His wordless gesture was clear enough, but Beau already ached knowing she would have to move. Usually Caleb could just form the hut around them so they wouldn’t have to bother, but his silence meant that wasn’t an option.
Beau exhaled through her teeth and nodded. She tried to sit up straighter, muscles screaming as pain flared through her wounds.
“Okay,” Beau said, voice shaking. “Okay. I got this…let’s go.”
Caleb slung the arm on her uninjured side over his shoulders, letting her lean heavily against him as she stumbled to her feet. Beau bit down on her lower lip so hard she thought she might bite through it. There was already blood in her mouth from the fight, so she wasn’t sure it would matter if she did.
They limped slowly to the opening, Caleb peering inside before ushering her in. Beau sunk down heavily to the ground, back against the smooth inside of the tiny cave. Caleb sat in front of her, digging through his pockets and producing a few rolls of bandages. He had long ago given up the practice of hiding his scars, but he continued to carry bandages around for moments like this. He didn’t have any background in healing or medicine, but Caduceus and Jester had both insisted on showing everyone how to wrap a wound to keep it covered after one too many close calls due to being separated.
Beau sent the both of them a mental, weighted thanks.
She watched the rhythmic, cyclical motion of Caleb wrapping her forearms through heavy lidded eyes. The furrow between his eyebrows was deep and telling.
With her free hand, Beau reached up and poked the furrow, Caleb staring back at her with a painful expression as he paused his task.
“Don’t look at me like that, man,” Beau sighed. “This is nothing.”
Caleb pursed his lips, staring pointedly at her wounds as if to remind her they had no healers to help them.
“We’ve survived way worse,” Beau mumbled, thinking darkly of their trip to the Astral Sea and Lucien. “I’ll live.”
Caleb huffed and returned his attention to his task. Beau let him finish wrapping her one arm and move on to the second before she spoke again.
“You used magic—in the fight.”
Caleb made no acknowledgment of her statement, finishing his wrapping of her second arm before he wiped his hands clean on his pants, smearing her blood against the dark fabric. He dug out her journal and pencil and wrote something, his handwriting not as neat as usual with the way his hand trembled slightly.
I had forgotten before now that the collar only acts as a Silence spell, not as a complete magical suppressant. Spells that can be cast without speaking still work. Unfortunately, I only have three in my repertoire that fall under that specification.
“And one of those happens to be magically throwing rocks?”
Despite the tension lingering in his shoulders, Caleb snorted. He shrugged as he set the journal aside and dug out another roll of bandages.
He scooted around to sit beside her, gingerly inspecting the claw marks on her side. Beau held back her comment about his terrible bedside manner when he failed to suppress a grimace. She instead held her arms up and out of the way as he wound the bandages around her ribs to cover the wound. He tied the bandages off tightly, making Beau wince and her vision spin.
As she blinked back into focus, Caleb sat in front of her, one hand on the side of her head and the other gently parting her blood matted hair to check for the source of the bleeding. Beau tipped her head forward, giving him a better vantage point. Her eyes slipped shut, fatigue weighing her down with the warm familiarity of his hands.
What felt like a blink later (shit, was she losing time?), Caleb tapped Beau’s knee and held the journal out to her. Beau struggled to focus on the scrawl for a long moment before it made sense.
The wound on your head is not too big. It is doing as head wounds do and bleeding more than most cuts of its size.
Beau grunted a response, too tired to bother with anything else. Caleb’s concerned expression filled her vision as he cupped her face, tilting her chin up so they could make eye contact.
He tapped her cheek in code, their check in system when they couldn’t otherwise speak. It was a simple code, a series of taps to ask are you okay and conscious?
Beau wheezed out a painful exhale and fumbled her hand forward to rest at his elbow, tapping her response that she was with him. Her wounds smarted, she was dizzy and exhausted, but she was mostly conscious.
“Give me like…an hour. Then we should keep walking before it gets dark.”
Caleb frowned at her and shook his head, making Beau frown back at him.
“Caleb, if we don’t keep moving we’ll be stuck in these stupid mountains longer than necessary. We have to get to Rosohna so we can get that thing off you and get to the others. I’ve literally fought monsters in worse shape than this. I can handle some walking.”
Beau watched as Caleb snatched up her notebook and scribbled a furious message beneath the whole page of other ones. He thrust it in front of her, still frowning.
While that may be true, we do not have any healers with us this time. We cannot be reckless.
“If this were literally any other situation, I wouldn’t fight you on this,” Beau said, pressing a careful hand to her tender ribs as she shifted, fingers catching slightly on the fibers of the bandages. “But we don’t know what happened to the rest of Exandria, and I don’t know about you, but I’m a little fucking terrified not knowing what might have happened to our friends - to Yasha. You can’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about Essek and the others the past few days. I wouldn’t believe you even if you did.”
Caleb frowned again, first at her, then down at the notebook in his hands. He tightened his grip, the papers crinkling quietly with the force behind his fingers. Beau spotted the moment she won the argument, his grip loosening as he leveled her with a stubborn lilt to his mouth. Beau flashed him a tight grin and settled in to rest.
For the first ten minutes, she observed Caleb as he took off his jacket and sorted through his components. Most of them were useless to him with the Silence of the collar still in place, but Beau knew he was more looking for something to occupy his mind and hands than anything. He was somewhere between adjusting the fastening tie on a bundle of herbs and counting his pieces of phosphorus when Beau drifted off.
She woke to Caleb’s hand lightly tapping her shoulder, reaching from just outside her striking range. It was a habit he had learned to form the hard way. Beau only felt a little bad about it.
Glancing out the entrance of the cave, Beau could tell by the now familiar dim gray light pouring in that Caleb had kept his promise and not let her rest for too long. She felt a little better, but the second Caleb helped her push to her feet, the lightheaded woozy swoop of her vision returned. Beau grit her teeth and blinked hard to focus.
Caleb raised a pointed brow at her, supporting her weight on her good side when she came back to her senses.
“Shut up,” Beau grumbled. “Let’s get moving.”
They managed to limp along for the rest of the day without drawing more attention from the resident fauna. Beau helped Caleb seek out a place for them to hunker down, going for something more sheltered than previous evenings due to Beau’s wounds.
“I can take the first watch since I slept earlier,” Beau said once they were settled. Caleb, scarcely visible to her in the encroaching darkness, shook his head and gestured for her to lie down.
“Nope,” Beau said, staying stubbornly upright as she reached for her goggles. “Trust me, man. You aren’t going to want to wake me up in the middle of the night for watch. Get some rest.”
Caleb contemplated this, glaring at her as he did, before finally settling down beside her, a hand on Beau’s knee.
Once his breathing had evened out in slumber, Beau tipped her head back against the rock behind her and exhaled, shaky. Her training thankfully meant the poison from the beast and further infection were not a concern, but Beau was still susceptible to pain and blood loss. Her wounds ached and the lightheaded sensation hadn’t left her alone ever since the attack. She was a paltry shield between Caleb and the mountains outside their sleeping place, but she took comfort in the weight of his hand on her knee.
Beau would rather ache and bleed than have Caleb injured and poisoned, unable to fight off the toxin and without healers.
She stared up at the pieces of the sky she could see, the ley lines gone somewhere between the previous night and now, but magic still strained and strange if the malfunctioning Sending stone was anything to go by. Hopefully it wouldn’t last much longer.
Beau dropped her hand over Caleb’s and controlled her breathing, reassured for the moment by the knowledge of his safety.
–
Leaning against her staff, using it for support so Caleb could focus on hiking himself through the mountains, Beau stood at his shoulder as they examined the river before them. The current didn’t seem too strong as the water flowed sedately around the protruding rocks.
“Stepping stones or wading through the water?” Beau asked, shifting her weight and wincing only slightly. Wounds tended to heal rather quickly on her, but the combined lack of rest from all the hiking and their attempts to ration their food was not lending to feeling better quickly. Her arms felt stiff and her ribs smarted if she breathed too deeply or twisted the wrong way. It was annoying. Beau counted her blessings that her head felt better and less fuzzy, at the very least.
Part of her wanted to stop and wash her bloody, matted hair out in the water, but this high in the mountains, she was more likely to give herself hypothermia instead. Beau was used to traveling and being a little filthy, so she pushed the thought aside.
Their boots, however, were waterproof, so trudging through would be fine - supposing the water wasn’t deceptively deep. Caleb seemed to be pondering the same thought as he glared down at the current. He glanced sideways at her, eyes critically scanning the way she was leaning on her staff before shaking his head.
Beau raised an eyebrow at him in challenge as he pulled out her journal to scribble. Their conversations had bled over to additional pages of Beau’s journal, documenting one side of several discussions. The disjointed comments and questions would likely remain after all this was done, secretly sentimental as Beau was.
We should wade through - carefully. I don’t think you want to be jumping from rock to rock just yet.
Beau sighed with a wry quirk of her lips. “Yeah, that’s fair.”
Caleb nodded and tucked her journal away in his pocket, turning back to the river and wading into the shallow bank. He paused to peer back at her, watching dutifully as Beau shuffled her way down the embankment into the water. They shuffled carefully along together, clenching their teeth at the frigid sting of the water when it came up to their knees near the middle. As the riverbed sloped up again, toward the other side, it was almost worse with their wet clothes clinging to their legs in the open air.
Beau was debating the merits of sitting around waiting for their clothes to dry out instead of hiking and drying when Caleb slipped. Her hand darted out to grab the back of his coat on instinct, keeping him from going face first into the current.
Caleb scrambled to get his feet underneath him, hissing out a sharp exhale through his teeth. Beau maintained her steel grip on his coat collar, braced against his momentum and the current.
He took another moment to get his footing before they hobbled the rest of the way out of the river together. Caleb was favoring his right foot, expression drawn tight with pain he was clearly trying to swallow.
“Sit,” Beau ordered gruffly, still clinging to his coat as she hobbled him over to sit against a tree trunk. She flopped down in front of him, carefully pulling his foot into her lap. Beau never claimed to be a healer, but she was intimately familiar with the types of injuries that came with her training.
She carefully persuaded his boot off his foot and wrestled the wet fabric of his pants away from his ankle. There was already a faint bruise on the outside of his ankle, just below the sharp bone. Beau prodded at the area with a light touch, wincing in sympathy at the swelling and the pained hiss she earned.
“I think you sprained it, man,” Beau sighed. She grabbed the bottom of the dusty cloak she had donned specifically for the environment of the Hellcatch Valley, tearing a strip of it off swiftly. The cloaks were luckily heavy enough to be useful in the mountains now, but Beau was content with ripping it up a little. “Lucky for you, I know how to wrap these bad boys.”
Caleb grunted as if to say, lucky me.
Beau shot him a smirk before focusing in on the pattern of her wrapping, pulling the stiff fabric as tight as she could to support his joint. He grunted every now and then, the noise suppressed into the fabric of his scarf, eyes squinting with every wince. Beau tried to wrap his ankle as quickly and painlessly as possible, guilt gnawing at her gut with every pained reaction she drew out of him.
Tucking the fabric in firmly, she secured the wrap and glanced up at Caleb.
“You okay?”
Caleb sighed and stared miserably at his ankle, looking like he was judging it for failing him. Beau snorted and stretched to pat his leg above the wrapping around his ankle.
“We’ll find you a nice stick to walk with.”
Beau laughed loudly, clutching her aching ribs when Caleb pouted at her and flipped her off in response. Shoving to her feet with the use of her staff, Beau limped over to some nearby underbrush and dug out a fallen branch from the foliage. She held it up to her staff, comparing the heights, and shrugged, figuring it was good enough.
“Here,” Beau said as she set the branch down beside Caleb. “Do you need to rest for a bit, old man, or do you want to keep going?”
Caleb, halfway through tugging his boot back on, paused to look down at the stick beside him appraisingly. He laced his boot up before wobbling to his feet, testing the strength of the branch. With a nod, Caleb looked up at Beau and gestured for them to continue on.
“Alright,” Beau said, adjusting her grip on her staff. “Let me know if you need a break.”
She caught him raising his brow pointedly, as if to turn that request back on her. Beau waved him off, grumbling. He should know better by now that trusting him came easy, but Beau would rather eat glass than be vulnerable. It wasn’t within Beau’s nature to admit weakness. If asked, she would rather stare directly into the sun than tell someone she was hurting.
They limped along together for the rest of the day, pausing only once in the afternoon to rest their feet and eat something. Beau noted with concern that their rations were nearly gone. When they had set out for the Hellcatch, they had only anticipated being gone for three days at most. They certainly hadn’t planned for not having access to a quick escape via Caleb’s magic. Beau would suggest they resort to hunting, but between their injuries and the attention lighting a fire would draw, it was more a risk than anything.
A few days of sparse meals wouldn’t kill them.
As they settled down for the night, Beau noted it was colder than usual. She pulled her cloak around her shoulders firmly, glancing down at where Caleb was curled up beside her. They had brought a blanket along in one of their bags, knowing they would likely be sleeping rough in the Hellcatch Valley. They shared it now, draped more over Caleb than Beau as she adjusted it to encompass him.
Pressing into the rock at her back, Beau tipped her head up to stare at the few stars she could see through the canopy above. Mentally tracing back through their journey, it was both surprising and not how much had happened in the past five days. In fact, compared to their previous adventures, this trek had been going relatively well. Despite being slowed by their injuries, Beau was fairly certain they were only another day or two from the outskirts of Rosohna - barring further complications.
Exhaling slowly, Beau kept staring at the stars, and hoped her family was safe.
–
They were pushing themselves. Beau would readily admit to that fact, and she was almost certain Caleb wouldn’t deny it either. It was stupid, but the Nein had never claimed to make smart choices. They made the choices that were most likely to keep them alive, even if they were a little dumb.
It was getting late, and both of them were leaning heavily on their respective walking sticks, breathing labored. They had paused for a brief respite, debating if they should walk a little longer before settling in for the night.
Caleb was favoring his sprained ankle still - more notable than earlier. Beau wasn’t going to say it, but she was pretty sure the wounds on her side had opened again from the strain of the day. Hidden beneath her traveling cloak, Beau was going to keep it a secret until she couldn’t.
“We should be close,” Beau said, breathless. “If we don’t make it tonight, we’ll get there by tomorrow. The question is, how much longer are we going to keep going now?”
Caleb stared at the ground as he overtly began doing mental math. To most people, he probably looked like he was trying to glare a hole in the dirt, but Beau could see the minute flick of his irises moving back and forth, scanning over numbers, mental maps, and rationale only he could see. She waited him out, familiar with this process.
After a minute, he looked at her and gestured ahead of them. Keep going.
Beau nodded, steeling herself to move through the smarting sting of her reopened wound.
They made it another half hour through the forest, hiking cautiously down the gradual decline, when they encountered a creature as it burst abruptly from the underbrush.
Beau cursed, shoving Caleb behind her and flipping her staff into a defensive position. She swore at herself viciously, knowing she had slacked on her attentiveness because she was tired and in pain. Now, they were paying the price, facing off with this thing.
This beast looked a lot like the one they had encountered the other day, but it was bigger, and there was something sharp at the end of its tail that hadn’t been on the other one. Beau thought it was a safe bet to assume that part was poisonous, too.
Which was just fucking great.
Beau fumbled a hand behind her and pushed at Caleb blindly, frantically. “Go, hide somewhere. I’ll drive it off.”
Caleb’s warm fingers caught her wrist, squeezing fiercely in silent denial, a solidarity that was as brazen as it was stupid. His sentiment to not abandon her wasn’t helpful in this situation.
“Caleb, I’m not fighting with you on this, man. Just hide!”
He lingered at her back for another second before Beau felt him move away, his reluctance loud in the weighted quiet at her back. Beau could deal with his petulance later, for now she had to focus on this beast.
She caught the way its sickly green eyes tracked Caleb’s movements, but it seemed to know better than try to get past Beau at that moment. Beau startled back a step when the creature lunged suddenly, claws splayed and teeth bared. She widened her stance and exhaled forcefully as she swung.
By some strange stroke of luck, they both missed each other. Beau rolled with her failed strike, pain lancing through her side as the old wound on her ribs protested. She grit her teeth and scanned for Caleb, finding him several paces back, tucked halfway behind a tree. It wasn’t great, but it would have to do.
Breathing heavily and with shaking hands, Beau lunged through the pain and struck with her staff, catching the beast on the side of the head. It growled, low and fierce, before lashing out, Beau dodging nimbly backward. Her head spun, cluing Beau into how much blood she was probably losing from her reopened wound. She planted her feet, intending to strike again, when a new searing pain flared to life in her stomach.
Beau couldn’t help the scream of pain that was punched out of her, knees going weak. Her staff clattered out of her hands as a pulse of numbing heat shot through her. Hands fumbling toward her stomach, Beau’s fingers scrabbled over the pointed tip of the beast’s tail where it sat embedded in her stomach. Fierce and half delirious with pain, Beau wrapped tingling fingers around the slim appendage and yanked it free before twisting to snap it over her shoulder.
The beast howled. A screeching wail of furious pain that echoed through the trees. Beau dropped the broken tail and stumbled back a few steps as the beast writhed and clawed at the dirt. A rock came sailing through the stretching shadows to nail the creature in the side of its head, drawing another screech from it.
Beau pressed a hand to the newest wound on her torso as she fumbled for her staff. They had to get out of here before the beast recovered or Beau passed out.
“Caleb,” Beau croaked. “Let’s go.”
His hand was suddenly on her shoulder, pulling her away from the furious, distracted beast. They fled between the trees, heedless of direction for a minute before Caleb suddenly turned sharply, bringing Beau along with him. Barely managing to keep her feet under her, Beau followed blindly.
When the screeching faded behind them, Beau gasped and stumbled, the adrenaline abandoning her as she listed heavily into Caleb’s side. He managed to keep her upright long enough to settle between two closely growing trees. Beau all but collapsed, vision graying out as she strained to purge the poison from her system.
Sliding back into clearer consciousness what felt like a lifetime later, Beau winced at the sudden realization that Caleb was pressing heavily against her new wound. His face was mostly obscured in the darkness, but Beau could see enough - and knew him well enough - to spot the frantic, terrified lines of his expression.
“Hey,” Beau wheezed, numbly tugging her goggles over her eyes. It wasn’t entirely dark yet, but she was too tired to focus her eyes enough to work in the dim. “Y’okay?”
Caleb’s disbelief was blatant now that she could see through the shadows.
“Shut up,” Beau said, instinctive. “‘M gonna be fine. Are you okay?”
Caleb stared at her for a long, frustrated moment before he nodded once, sharp and short.
“Good.” Beau exhaled, pained and shaky. “Ow.”
A frustrated exhale from Caleb was her only answer as he pulled one hand back enough to dig around in his coat pockets despite his bloody hands. He produced a roll of bandages, pausing a moment to stare at it forlornly before rapidly getting to work on wrapping Beau’s stomach.
“What was that look for?” Beau wheezed, blinking hard to stay conscious.
Caleb finished his task by tying off the bandages firmly, again making Beau’s vision white out and ears ring as it tightened over her wound. She came back to Caleb holding her journal out, his scrawl just barely visible thanks to her goggles. His handwriting was cramped and uneven, written almost on top of the previous message since he had written in the encroaching dark.
My last roll of bandages. Do not get injured again.
Beau exhaled a wheeze in place of a laugh. “I’ll do my best.”
Caleb tucked her journal away, movements jerky and annoyed. Beau had the distinct impression that if he had his voice, he would be grumbling under his breath at her. She slumped against the tree at her back, watching him fumble through the darkness. Beau reached out to snag his wrist, making him pause. Tugging off her goggles, Beau pressed them into his hand as she blinked against the sudden weight of darkness.
A minute later, Caleb’s hands against her shoulders tipped her forward into his chest. The heavy material of the blanket they packed settled around her before Caleb nudged her back again. He fussed with the blanket, tucking it firmly around her shoulders and staying mindful of her wound. Beau went where he directed her, far too tired to protest and just tired enough to trust him with this much vulnerability - she grit her teeth and stared into the sun just this once.
He didn’t bother writing a note for Beau to tell her she wasn’t taking watch. Caleb tucked her against his side, one arm slung over her shoulders and keeping her firmly close. Beau puffed a drawn out, put upon sigh - her token protest even as she settled gratefully against him.
They were so close to Rosohna, to getting out of here - Beau figured she could let Caleb have this one.
-
Unfortunately, they didn’t wake peacefully.
The beast from the night before found them minutes after Beau drifted back to consciousness, still feeling fuzzy from blood loss. The slim end of its tail hung limp and broken still, identifying it to Beau.
Caleb, with sleepless bags under his eyes, had just slung their bag over his shoulder, having finished wrestling their blanket back into it when Beau launched to her feet. They were so close to Rosohna and Beau was injured enough that it wasn’t worth staying to fight. She wrapped her shaking hand around Caleb’s wrist and fled, letting Caleb point her in the right direction by tugging on her arm as they went.
The beast gave chase, which was unsurprising.
Beau wheezed, clutching her abdomen weakly, trying to press her hand down over the bandages covering the gaping wound in her stomach. They hadn’t made it terribly far yet, weaving through trees and underbrush as they were, but her vision was starting to blur. Her knees went weak, suddenly stumbling over her uncooperative legs and failing to get her feet under her to keep herself from tripping. Caleb’s bruising grip on her arm was the only reason she didn’t eat dirt.
He pulled her close, dragging them over to a thick tree trunk and dropping to sit, pressing back against the bark. Beau went with him, breathing heavily as he gathered her close, one arm around her shoulders and his free hand bunching up her cloak to press against the wound that was now bleeding through the bandages. Beau’s vision went white as she cursed long and colorful through the pain.
When her vision swam back into focus, she was staring up at Caleb, her upper body in his lap as he held her. He was mouthing something, the same few words over and over again, if Beau wasn’t hallucinating. She squinted, studying the shape of the silent words as he focused on keeping pressure on her wound.
A moment later, she recognized the simple Zemnian he was frantically repeating.
Es tut mir leid.
Beau groaned, reaching up to wrap her hand over the one he had pressed to her stomach. His wide, terrified blue eyes shot to her face, litany faltering.
“Caleb,” Beau wheezed. “It’s not your fucking fault.”
His face screwed up, displeased and upset. Beau shook her head, squeezing his fingers as tight as she could.
“I’m serious,” Beau insisted. “This isn’t your fault. If you keep saying it is, I’m gonna punch you.”
Caleb huffed a wet laugh, more a miserable exhale than anything, and shook his head at her. Before Beau could say something else, a growl ripped through the air. Caleb tensed, pulling her closer and glaring at the creature despite the tremor in his hands. Beau’s face was against his shoulder, but she pushed herself to pick up her head and locate it through her whirling vision and the crowded foliage.
It was prowling closer with slow, measured steps - confident in the kill. Beau hated to think that this was how and where she was going to die, but she wouldn’t go quietly.
The creature paused, crouching low as it prepared to pounce. Beau shifted in Caleb’s hold, trying to cover him despite her wound and his stubborn insistence on holding her close. She contemplated if she had the strength to push herself and Caleb out of the way once it leapt, allowing it to brain itself on the tree at their backs.
It never got the chance to pounce. A large, dark colored arrow embedded itself in the creature’s neck. The beast howled, garbled and wet as it died quickly writhing against the ground.
Beau blinked, sagging into Caleb’s hold as he wheezed tremulous, rapid breaths above her. He gathered Beau closer again, her head lolling onto his shoulder, thoroughly exhausted.
The sound of hooves and humanoid feet drew closer, coming to a halt nearby among a clamor of surprised voices. One voice, gruffer than the others, spoke up, calling out to them.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Caleb’s hand tightened on her shoulder, Beau knowing she had to speak up for them both now. Twisting her head away from his warmth, she found a small party of armed Drow staring down at them in a mix of caution and surprise.
“Hey there,” Beau mumbled, tasting blood in her mouth. “We’re members of the Mighty Nein. Got a little lost a few days ago…is the Bright Queen home?”
The Drow glanced between each other, clearly baffled. Beau wanted to scream, frustrated at the hesitation. It hadn’t been that long since they checked in with Leylas Kryn.
“Wait,” one of the Drow spoke up, coming up to stand at the shoulder of the one who spoke first. “The Mighty Nein…the Heroes of the Dynasty?”
Beau grinned, knowing her teeth were probably pinkish in the gray light filtering down through the treetops. “The very same. Think we could…get a lift to Rosohna? And some healing?”
“Of course,” the first one said, gesturing to the rest of their group. Beau didn’t stay conscious long enough to see that promise through.
–
Beau woke up in an unfamiliar room, lit with pale light, and Caleb asleep at her bedside. His upper body was folded over to rest on the bed where he sat in a chair, his hand at her wrist with the tip of his fingers trailing over the groove of her wrist where her pulse thrummed.
“Caleb,” Beau rasped, not bothering to try and sit up when her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.
He stirred, turning his face into the mattress with a quiet grunt. He went still for a moment before his fingers tightened around her wrist and he raised his head, blinking blearily. Beau stared back at his sleepy expression with amusement, waiting for him to register his surroundings.
Caleb blinked at her. Blinked again. Then his eyes went wide and he sat all the way up, spine straightening so quickly Beau heard it pop. She smirked at him and chuckled, her side aching dully. She glanced down at herself, covered in a blanket but surprised at the lack of pain.
“Beauregard,” Caleb rasped, reinforcing his grip on her hand. Beau’s gaze snapped back to him, her eyes going wide now.
“You got the collar off,” Beau croaked, moving to push herself upright. “Fucking finally. How long was I out?”
Caleb swept forward to support her shaky arms, but again, there was no pain. Beau diverted her attention long enough to brush the blanket aside and expose her torso. There were faint scars on her ribs and just below them where the beast had got her, but she was otherwise fine.
“How’s your ankle?” Beau asked, curiosity of her own wounds now satisfied.
Caleb twisted his fingers through her own and squeezed as he stared at her.
“It is fine, Beauregard. The healers were able to set it right quickly. We were more worried about you. They said you are lucky you have your ability to handle poisons…most who are struck by the beast we met do not live long enough to make it back for healing.”
It was a sobering thought, but Beau couldn’t really grasp the severity of it until she imagined Caleb in her situation. If he had been the one hit instead of her, Caleb would have been dead long before they made it here and Beau wouldn’t have been able to help at all.
She was doubly glad now that she had the forethought to put herself between the beast and Caleb.
“It has been a full day since we were found. The Bright Queen stopped by yesterday evening to help with the collar removal. She is willing to send us home when you are able. I also tried the Sending stone again - it still does not work. The Bright Queen said it is getting worse as the days pass. It began with divination and communication magic first, and sporadic dispelling of long-standing enchantments. More magic is becoming strained and ineffective, including resurrection magic.”
Beau’s thoughts had started racing when Caleb informed her they could go home soon, diverting momentarily when he mentioned the stone. She had thought maybe it was just the days following the solstice since they hadn’t bothered to try again after a few failed attempts, too concerned about their own journey. But the fact it still wasn’t working meant something was lingering.
Her thoughts ground to a halt when she registered his comment on resurrection magic.
If Caleb had been hit by those poison claws, he would have died quickly. And he wouldn’t have come back.
Beau’s eyes met his slowly, lingering in horrified silence.
“Shit,” Beau croaked. “I’m extra glad it hit me, then.”
Caleb stared at her for a long moment before he leaned back, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. Beau stared at him with one eyebrow raised. She had seen this reaction from him before, usually when he was searching for patience.
“What?”
“I cannot say I don’t understand,” Caleb said, slow and measured as he kept his eyes closed and head tipped back. “You are better able to handle this type of damage. But Beauregard.”
Caleb straightened, his intensely blue eyes locking on her face, making Beau feel young and understood in a way she thought she had long grown used to.
“Beauregard…you cannot die for me. Do you understand? I will not allow it. You have to promise me that you won’t go away. Do not leave me behind because you are protecting me in a fight.”
Beau blinked at him, speechless and frozen before she scoffed, unsure how else to react. She thought they were long past this - this skittish, tentative thing from before they truly knew each other. This felt similar to the way Caleb’s hand used to fumble against her shoulder, the uncertain weight of his fingers against her clavicle like he was worried she might shake him off. They were both stronger than before, more certain in their standing with the world and each other. Beau didn’t know where this was coming from - but she supposed she understood.
Caleb had lost his magic under the weight of that collar, rendered near powerless and probably feeling a lot like the version of himself that had first met Beau. Meanwhile, Beau hadn’t faltered, because her abilities had been unaffected, and she had done what she always did - stand between Caleb and danger. Only this time, they had no clerics chasing after them to brush the hurt away, and Caleb had been completely reliant on Beau to keep him safe. He had nothing to protect himself with, save a single spell that let him throw rocks around.
Beau blinked again, nodding slowly.
“Promise me,” Caleb said again, low and fierce. He stuck his pinky out to her, expression far too serious for such a gesture. Beau didn’t laugh at him for it. The last time he made her do this, she had promised not to go poking around the hidden floors of the tower when he entrusted it to her and Yasha for a night.
She refrained from poking holes in his request, because they both knew Beau couldn’t guarantee this. Instead, she reached out and wrapped her pinky firmly around his, purposefully meeting his gaze.
“Yeah, I promise.”
Caleb nodded, firm and resolute. He released Beau’s hand and sighed, long and exhausted.
“I should be able to get us to the Blooming Grove, once you are up for it. We can figure out our next steps once we are with the rest of the Nein.”
Beau’s thoughts snapped immediately to Yasha, her heart skipping in her chest with anticipation and fear in equal parts. It had been a while since they had been apart this long, and they never had no idea where the other one was and a complete lack of communication. As worried as Beau was, she was certain that Yasha was worse off by spades, despite Caduceus’ company.
“I should probably find the Bright Queen and let her know I’m conscious and grateful for her help before we go, huh?”
“Ja, that would be the diplomatic thing to do,” Caleb said with a smirk, shifting out of the way as Beau swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “You should probably get dressed, too.”
Beau glanced down at her clothes, blinking at the simple gray base of her robes, all her other vestments and accessories absent. Caleb pointed to the neat pile of them across the room knowingly. She stood and stretched out her stiff, aching limbs with a chuckle.
“I mean the first time we met her, you and I were in those weird harnesses. I don’t think me showing up like this will change her opinion of me.”
Caleb snorted, standing and grabbing his coat from the back of his chair as Beau rapidly donned her miscellaneous items. Finally slipping her bracers into place and securing them around her wrists, Beau reached up to where her hair spilled down her shoulders, gathering it into her hands before she paused. She turned slowly to where Caleb was adjusting the fall of his coat across his shoulders.
"Did you wash my hair? The blood's gone."
Caleb glanced up from his coat for a moment before focusing in on fiddling with one of the buttons. "I asked one of the healers to magically remove the blood and dirt, as it was easier that way. But I did brush out your hair, ja. I could tell it was bothering you before."
Beau deftly twirled her hair into something like a bun while she stared at Caleb. She walked over and lightly punched his shoulder, still managing to draw a wince from him.
"Thanks, man," Beau said, haltingly. She was better about accepting this part of the whole 'being cared for thing', but she still floundered when it came to showing her appreciation without cringing at herself. Her consolation was Caleb was almost as bad as her, too. "Let's get this meeting over with."
Their audience with the Bright Queen was brief, as she was overtly preoccupied with the fallout of the solstice. Beau and Caleb were not keen to keep her long, any more than she was to keep them. They thanked her for her aide and hospitality, promised to be in touch when they could, and promptly exited the throne room. Shoulder to shoulder, they walked briskly to the outer courtyard, intent on being out of the way and gone soon.
“Ready?” Caleb asked, standing in the middle of a stone-laid terrace, chalk in hand and transportation sigil nearly done.
Beau bounced on her toes as Caleb put the chalk back to the stone, waiting for her word to draw the last piece of the spell. The lines were already glowing faintly, primed and ready. Beau adjusted the fit of her sash at her neck and nodded, looking down at where Caleb crouched beside her.
“Let’s go home.”
21 notes
·
View notes