#with the nein. i’ll be honest i have found myself wishing that nein lovers had higher narrative demands

[caeslxys]

Your tags...you're right and you should say it, honestly. Saying C3 deserved a few more episodes could sound like your average "I wish my show never ended" take, except...what was everything for, if BH don't get to exist in the aftermath? Their endgame choice, everything they've been working towards, was informed by them having been on the moon and met its people. Final episodes aside, if the Ruidus plot is The BH Thing, I really wish the first trip could've had them less in a rush to report back. I wish they had the opportunity to connect even more with Ruidians and, yeah, I wish they had fought the Weavemind. I'm also rambling, sorry! I just can't believe it's controversial or made to sound like hate to say we shouldn't be begging for Moon x BH crumbs in the Moon x BH campaign.

Prefacing this with reinforcing that I truly, deeply adore those final bells hells episodes and what they contain. They’re fantastic critical role episodes in general but more importantly to me they are fantastic bells hells episodes. In a vacuum, i’m extremely happy with what we got.

That said, yeah, c3’s ending on the grander scale of its narrative structure in totality was unbelievably (and, frankly, unnecessarily) rushed. Everything since episode 91 has been in a spiral towards a finish they simply could have chosen not to spiral into so quickly. And this is seen in several things: from how Delilah was “handled” with next to no actual processing or difficulty, to the nein’s inclusion not bearing any narrative weight beyond the vague feeling of having some “avengers assemble” moment i simply did not care for and think ultimately took from bells hell’s story rather than added to it (which, were it not all rushed, is something it could have been given to them and their inclusion in the way that vox machina’s inclusion did), to the hells not even actually being able to participate in what their own campaign was ultimately about beyond quick epilogue scenes and one political discussion that they didn’t even all need to participate in.

I think the decision to have c3 be “the end of an era” irt to critical role’s ten years deeply hurt both its structure and its narrative intent. I still remember them marketing this campaign as a good jumping in point for new critters, and yet the finale doesn’t even end with bells hells. It ends on vox machina. That, to me—and in addition to the vox machina and mighty nein solo episodes—showcases a clear shift in intent that happened way, way too late to feel at all fulfilling as an audience member looking in. I’m sure as players it rocked, which I point out because obviously the fun factor matters substantially as well, but that has no bearing on criticism of the narrative it produces.

All that said: it’s truly incredible to me how much of this would have been fixed very simply by just…having more episodes. You could say this of anything but I feel it’s extremely noticeable in this story—the one thing it needed to make the constant rushing pace of its forward plot land was a denouement that allowed the characters and story to breathe for more than one eight hour episode. Bells Hells needed to learn about the culture on Ruidus. They needed to spend more time with the volition—more time even with Liliana, I would argue. They should have had their story structured in such a way that they fought the weavemind and ludinus both (especially if matt knew ludinus would ultimately make it out). They should have actually had to delve into what the story had set them up to delve into.

I adore, to pieces, campaign 3 and bells hells. I think much of the ire thrown towards it is unwarranted at best and often misplaced. But I will likely also always be at least a little mad that their final act was so clearly rushed.

[luckyjak]

fic: Lover (2/3)

Link to chapter 1 | A03 Link

It was surprising how easily writing to Essek fit into Caleb’s daily routine. Alarm spell, putting up the dome, counting spell components, preparing spells for the next day, writing in his other notebook, then writing to Essek. He often wrote whole paragraphs about what had happened that day, sometimes even writing pages if it had been a particularly eventful day. Sometimes, if things had been timed just right, Essek was able to respond to his messages immediately, and they were able to talk to one another via text, trading messages back and forth, but most days Caleb wrote in the evenings, and woke up to a response from Essek in the morning.

He wrote about everything, from the mundane to the extreme. He still filtered his thoughts somewhat. He wasn’t stupid; he knew anything he wrote to Essek could still end up in the Bright Queen’s ear. But it was still nice to just talk to him, to write down every crazy thing that had happened in his daily life and have someone else to respond to.

--

They had made it to Port Damali and had the comfort of an inn, for once. A disastrous day had led them to splurge a little bit, at Fjord’s insistence, that they each deserved a “goddamn bed for the night.” By some miracle, there were even enough rooms for them to each have a private room, if they wanted, which most of them insisted on for at least an evening.

As was habit, he had taken the time before bed to write to Essek:

Fjord almost got sacrificed to a volcano today. Turns out Jester’s not just in a cult, but is actually the leader of said cult. She’s not having a good time right now. On the plus side, the dunamancy spells you’ve taught me keep saving us: Fjord not dead right now because I managed to use the immovable object spell on his whip, keeping him from falling. So thank you, Essek; my friend isn’t dead because of what you taught me.

He yawned and put the book away, intending on sleeping when he felt the vibration of the book, meaning Essek had responded. He pulled it back out immediately. In swirly, elegant handwriting was Essek’s response:

I’m glad Fjord is okay. Jester is the leader of a cult? Why am I not surprised? I’m glad the spell came in handy for more than pranking. No one was injured, I hope?

Caleb grinned, and pulled out his quill to respond.

A few of us are injured. Veth was shot in the leg by a crossbow, and Beau’s shoulder is fucked up, and Yasha is perpetually injured, but we’re fine other than that. Actually get to sleep in a bed tonight, so that will help. How was your day?

He waited a moment to see if Essek would respond, and sure enough the book vibrated again.

Well, no one got sacrificed to a volcano, but to be honest I wouldn’t have minded throwing Imyrn into one if we’d been anywhere near one.

Ha. That’s the accountant, right?

Indeed. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the fact that magic costs gold to cast. “Is there any way we can use charcoal instead of obsidian for our shadow warriors?” No, asshole, that’s not how magic works.

Caleb rolled his eyes. Every wizard in Exandria wishes that’s how it worked.

Right? I wish he’d go bother someone else’s department and leave mine alone.

Caleb frowned into his notebook, and drew a sad frowny face. I’m sorry. It sounds frustrating.

It is. There was a pause, and then the notebook vibrated again. When will you be back in Rosohna?

A good question; one Caleb wished he knew the answer to. Hopefully in the next few days. Fjord has some people he wants to talk to while we’re here in Port Damali, and we may stop by Nicodranas so Jester can see her muther since she’s so distraught. He paused, tapping the quill on the notebook as he thought carefully about what he wanted to say next. I miss you.

I miss you, too. I wish you were here tonight.

Caleb sat the quill down and looked around. The inn was quiet, and his alarm spell was already in place, but that didn’t stop him from taking a moment to stand up and double check to make sure the door was locked before he crawled back into bed, and to Essek’s messages.

Oh? He wrote back cheekily. And what would you do if I was there tonight?

It took Essek a moment to respond: I’d take you to bed with me, darling.

Fuck. That was what he was hoping he’d write. Would you? He wrote back, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. I thought we were taking things slow.

They were, of course, though it wasn’t by choice but rather proximity. There was a point in Caleb’s life when he enjoyed how much the Nein constantly traveled; now he found he wished they could stay in one place (Rosohna) long enough for him to spend more time with Essek.

Writing like this helped, of course, but it was nothing compared to actually being with Essek.

Well, maybe I wouldn’t. But I’d want to. I think about it all the time. Caleb groaned while reading. Are you alone?

Yes. Are you?

Yes.

Caleb slid one hand under the covers, cupping himself lightly. Then tell me what all you want to do to me, liebling.

--

He would sooner burn his notebook before ever letting anyone ever look at what he and Essek had written to each other that night. But whenever he had the time and the privacy, he found himself rereading what they’d written over, and over, and over again.

--

It took weeks to get back to Rosohna. After leaving Port Damali, Caduceus had had another vision from the Wildmother, which led to them hunting down the Stone family and reforging another sword, this time for Yasha. It had taken three and a half weeks and had taken them trapezing through the ruins of Draconia, but it was finished, finally.

“Ooh, we should take a break and go to Nicodranas!” Jester suggested, and Caleb felt like he could kill her. “We can go see my mama and Nott’s family!”

“Alternate suggestion: you can go to Nicodranas, and I’ll go back to Roshona and see my boyfriend. We have teleportation circles in both locations; it costs very little for us to go to both places.”

“Sure, let’s split the party. Nothing bad has ever happened because of that, right?” Beau snarked at him.

“Jester has Sending . It takes only a few moments to send a message, and it takes about a minute to teleport. Hopefully nothing attacks us while we’re in two of our home bases.”

“I want to go to Rosohna,” Yasha suggested, her quiet voice supporting Caleb’s idea. “I have bracers there that I never picked up.”

“Oh shit, right, I forgot about that. And I should probably check in with Darion if we’re going there.”

Fjord shrugged. “So we’ll split the party. Caleb can send Jester, Nott, and myself to Nicodranas, and Yasha, Beau, and Caleb can go to Rosohna. Caduceus, where do you want to go?”

The firbolg paused thoughtfully. “I suppose I should check on my garden. I’ll go to Rosohna.”

“And someone should check in with Essek and the Bright Queen, make sure they don’t need us for anything. But I suppose Caleb’s got that covered, huh?” Jester winked, nudging him in the stomach with her elbow.

“I promise if I do nothing else, I’ll be checking in with Essek,” Caleb promised them, keeping his face neutral despite the excitement building in his chest. (It had been weeks. He was allowed to want like this, wasn’t he?)

“Checking in with his pants , more likely,” Beau mumbled. Then “Ow, fuck, it was a joke , Nott!”

“You leave Caleb alone! He’s allowed to be excited about seeing his boyfriend!”

While they were conversing, he pulled out his blue notebook and sent a quick message Essek’s way. Good news! I’m coming back to Rosohna for at least an evening but hopefully longer!

The response was almost immediate. That’s great! There is a formal occasion tonight that requires my presence that I must attend--would you like to join me? It’s bound to be boring but the food with be free.

He was in the process of writing out his acceptance when another of Essek’s messages appeared instead. Actually, extend the invitation to the rest of your group as well. It’s a celebration dinner; the Heroes of the Dynasty should be in attendance. We would have sent out a formal invitation weeks ago, but you guys have been out for awhile.

He scratched out what he had started to write, and instead wrote: Will do.

He shut his messenger book gently. “Change of plans. We’re all going to Roshana. They’re having a fancy formal celebration and would like the Heroes of the Dynasty to make an appearance tonight.”

Jester gasped. “A fancy formal thing? Oh, we get to go shopping! ”

“Oh joy,” Fjord deadpanned.

There was a rush of voices as everyone began discussing what they wanted to do, or where, or what order they should do things.

“Sorry, Veth,” Caleb knelt down beside his friend, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know you wanted to see your family.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine. I like fancy, formal things,” she paused thoughtfully. “Actually, could you ask Essek if I can bring Yeza and Luc? They may want to come to Roshana for the party and then stay the night.”

“I can ask.”

Essek didn’t mind, and neither did anyone else in the Dynasty; the formal affair was a celebration of the Luxon, the night before the Day of Light celebration in the capital. It’s the first time we’ve had a Beacon of the Luxon home for the Day of Light in almost a century, thanks to your efforts. Essek had written. So bring whoever you want.

That made the excitement of the group go up. It had been afternoon in the ruins of Draconia, but it was still early morning in Nicodranas when they showed up--once again without warning--in Yussah’s tower, and then again in the Lavish Chateau. Jester had tried to convince her mother to come to the evening’s celebration in Rosohna, but the Ruby of the Sea couldn’t be convinced to travel to a foreign city, even just for an evening. Yeza had been pleased to be invited, however, and Luc was excited about magical travel and seeing where his mama worked.

The rest of the day had been a bit of a hurried blur after that; there was shopping to be done, first by selling some of the ruins of Draconia they had managed to grab while traveling to meet the Stones. It had earned them quite a bit of coin, and Jester had insisted that they spend at least part of it on formalwear for the evening. Caleb found he didn’t mind too much; they had the gold to spend, and after weeks of not being able to see Essek, he wanted to impress him if he could.

He ended up buying several outfits of different levels of formality, settling on a dark blue and silver outfit for the evening that, according to various members of his group, brought out the color of his eyes nicely. With Yasha’s help, he shaved off the monstrosity of a beard that had grown in the weeks they spent traveling. He ended up not getting cut up this time, too, which was a bonus. He even got a haircut, trimming several inches off of his ponytail so that his hair wasn’t quite as wild as it had been.

He wasn’t the only one cleaning their act up: both Fjord and Beau had touched up their undercuts, which had gotten ridiculously shaggy since the last time they were in Rosohna. Veth, Jester, and Yasha had opted to keep their hair long, but took the time to braid their hair into a formal updo. Even Yeza ended up shaving his sideburns down a bit, although whether it was because everyone else had or he wanted to do it for his wife, Caleb didn’t know.

Before he knew it, it was evening at the palace of the Bright Queen, decorated in its splendor to an extend Caleb had never seen. The palace was always a beautiful building, the architecture elven and crystalline, but tonight it shine with a magical sort of decadence, the sort of thing that came from a people who lived for thousands of years throughout time immortal, that outshined anything he’d ever encountered in the Empire.

Waiting at the palace gates for him was his lover of a month and a half, wearing the same long mantle he always did, a perpetual scowl on his face.

The scowl melted away the moment he saw him, however. “Caleb,” he said quietly, a soft and gentle smile on his voice, and Caleb wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t walking closer as he spoke.

Time seemed to freeze and blur around him as Essek kissed him, quickly but deeply. It wasn’t long enough--would forever be long enough?-- but it was better than nothing he’d lived with for weeks.

Time seemed to resume, and he heard giggling behind him as Essek pulled away. “And the rest of the Mighty Nein, it seems. Good evening.”

Right. He forgot they existed for a moment.

“You gonna kiss every guest to welcome them, or just the special ones?” Beau teased as Essek flushed a darker shade of purple.

“ Beauregard--”

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have. We are in public, after all,” Essek winced, rubbing the back of his head. He bowed before them, gesturing towards the front of the palace. “If you’ll follow me, please.”

He led them down a long corridor into the Bright Queen’s throne room, which had been decorated in white and silver drapery and crystalline decor. His companions scattered almost immediately: Beau and Yasha to the dance floor, with Jester dragging an uncomfortable looking Fjord behind them. Yeza and Nott had tackled the snack table, and Caduceus was nowhere to be found.

Essek stayed beside him, though, a respectable distance so that someone might mistake them as colleagues, at least until Essek leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Although I should tell you: my sister Meela knows about us.”

Ah. That explained the stiffness. “Meela’s the priestess, right? The oldest?”

“Yes. She’s the High Priestess, actually. She was injured in the Scourager attack months ago, so she’s been at home recovering, temporarily relieved of duty, and it’s led to her meddling out of boredom.” He scowled, his cheeks still a slight dark purple. “She’s insistent on meeting you tonight.”

“Essek, that is fine for me. You have nothing to worry about. I do not mind meeting your sister,” he nodded in the direction of an approaching woman. “Is that her?”

“That would be Meela, yes.” He gestured for her to approach. “Meela, this is Caleb Widogast, arcanist of the Mighty Nein and retriever of the Beacon. Caleb, my oldest sister Meela Thelyss, High Priestess of the Luxon.”

She was plump in a way most drow were not, and her skin more gray compared to Essek’s deep purple. But they were almost certainly related in some fashion: they had the same eyes and the same mouth, although her smile was a bit sharper. She studied Caleb with the scrutiny of a woman who spent long years studying other people, although it was hidden behind kind-looking eyes.

She seemed familiar to Caleb, too, but he chalked it up to her resemblance to Essek. “A pleasure,” she shook his hand, her nails long and sharp. “My, but aren’t you an unexpected surprise? Handsome,” she ran a hand down the side of his face, brushing a stray curl behind his ear. “I like the long hair.”

“ Meela-- ”

“Oh, hush , Essek, I’m not going to embarrass you.” She winked at Caleb, as if to tell him that embarrassing her little brother was her favorite hobby. “It is an honor to have the Hero of the Dynasty here this evening for our celebration. You must tell me more about yourself; my brother has been surprisingly tight-lipped about this whole affair. I had to practically torture him just to get him to admit he was dating you!”

She wrapped an arm around Caleb’s, dragging him away from Essek.

He then proceeded to spend the next half hour going through what felt like the most bizarre interrogation of his life; Meela had wanted to know everything about him, or so it seemed. Where had he grown up? Who taught him magic? Did he regret leaving the Empire? Did he have any friends or family still back in the Empire, or was he loyal to the Dynasty completely? Surprisingly few of her questions involved his relationship with Essek: she seemed more interested in who Caleb was a person and where his loyalties lied than they fact that he was dating her brother.

Luckily, it was time for dinner, and Meela was called away to proceed over the meal, giving Caleb a bit of a reprieve. Essek’s face was flushed as he led Caleb to the table where the meal would be served.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, floating beside Caleb as they walked. “She’s never cared about anyone else I’ve ever dated! I don’t know why she felt the need to interrogate you like that--”

“It’s probably because I’m human,” Caleb pointed out as they joined the crowd. “None of your other boyfriends have been human, have they?”

“No. Well, one was a half-orc, but,” he sighed. “You’re probably right. Still, I apologize. This wasn’t how I wanted the evening to go.”

Feeling invisible by the crowd, Caleb reached down and squeezed Essek’s hand. “Well, the night is still young.”

They didn’t get to sit next to each other, but they did get to sit across from one another, which was a blessing in and of itself. Caleb had to practically jump over Fjord to stop him from sitting across from Essek by accident, but it was fine by the end.

Dinner was served over four courses, including dessert. There was some hesitation on how to eat--the food was served with twin sticks as opposed to forks and spoons, and that had been a lesson in and of itself. Caleb knew how to use them a little bit just because he had eaten out before with Essek in the past; his friends, however, were hilarious in their attempts, much to the thankful amusement of the Bright Queen and her entourage.

He didn’t get to monopolize Essek’s attention, either; a fierce but friendly debate over the nature of reincarnation had sparked across their table, and Essek had Opinions, it seemed, and a need to share them. Beau also had opinions, as did the Minister of Labor, a broad-shouldered bugbear who sat on the Bright Queen’s council not far from them. On the other side of Caleb, Yeza, Caduceus, Nott and the elderly goblin advisor seemed to be discussing the medical properties of mushrooms.

He’d just have to find his own entertainment, then.

Coyly, he ran his foot against the back of Essek’s shin, teasing him lightly. But to his surprise, his boyfriend didn’t respond to his touch, too busy yelling at Beauregard about how wrong she was.

...Perhaps he was simply distracted?

It didn’t matter; soon, Caleb was dragged into a discussion with Fjord about magic, which the Bright Queen herself joined in for.

The next course was served, and tempers were soothed. The discussion at the table was now about some sort of drow sporting game, of which Essek only had occasional polite commentary to offer and seemed almost as bored of the conversation as Caleb. Fjord, Beau, and Jester were being invited to play in a game the next day--an invitation extended to Caleb as well, but which he and Essek both declined, more interested in a game of a different sort.

Caleb tried playing with him again, running his foot down the entire length of his leg, but once again Essek ignored him.

How odd .

The third course was served, but Caleb barely paid it any mind; instead, his mind was furiously trying to connect the dots.

Essek floated everywhere he went. He never went anywhere without his mantle, even to a formal event like tonight, or even a less formal date with Caleb. The mantle was almost certainly enchanted somehow, though Caleb’s detect magic spell couldn’t identify the spell school, which was practically a guarantee that it was dunamancy of some sort. His specialty was time, yes, but part of dunamancy was also the study of gravity .

When they were at the White Dragon’s den, Essek didn’t leave behind footprints in the snow. When the ball bearings were left on the Mighty Nein’s floor, he pushed the ball bearings away naturally.

Essek floated not out of pretension like Caleb had assumed when he first met him, but because he couldn’t walk. His mantle helped him levitate almost constantly. And based on how he hadn’t responded to Caleb’s flirting, he likely couldn’t feel anything in his legs, if Caleb was guessing correctly.

(Was that why he didn’t want to have sex…? Could he have sex, even, if--?)

An impulsive instinct overtook him, and Caleb kicked Essek under the table sharply, in a way that was impossible to ignore and, likely, should have hurt and caused some sort of reaction.

But Essek didn’t respond at all.

Schiesse, but he was right , wasn’t he? Essek was paralyzed, or injured, or something , and Caleb was a stupid fucking idiot who hadn’t noticed before now.

And the winner of the worst boyfriend in the world award goes to me , Caleb thought sullenly. Why hadn’t Essek told him? He could understand not saying anything before, when they weren’t dating and Caleb had technically been nothing more than Essek’s student; frankly, it wasn’t any of Caleb’s business. But now?

And sheisse , he had planned on asking Essek to dance after dinner! What an idiot he was!

Maybe Essek thought he knew already? Caleb tried to reason, but how was Caleb supposed to know? Or maybe he’s embarrassed? But what was there to be embarrassed by, Caleb wondered.

“--leb. Caleb?” Oh, someone was talking to him.

“What is it, Veth?” He asked, shaking himself out of his musing.

“Are you alright?” She asked, three seats away but full of motherly concern. “You haven’t touched your spider legs.”

“ Nein , I’m fine. I just filled up on bread earlier.” He lied, pushing his plate away from him. He couldn’t imagine eating at the moment.

Why hadn’t Essek trusted him?

Like you can even talk about trust, Caleb chided himself. How much about himself had he not told Essek, either? Trust was a two-way street, and it seemed like it was something they both struggled with.

He was about to spiral into another depressive episode when he felt a hand on his thigh. Looking down into his lap he saw a spectral mage hand, different from the one Nott normally summoned, a shimmering translucent purple slender hand, tracing circles onto his pants.

He looked up to see Essek wink at him before he continued his conversation with Yeza about plants.

Oh, but he was a fool, wasn’t he? Caleb felt his heart race in his chest, threatening to burst from the amount of affection he felt for the dark elf. Did it even matter that he and Essek didn’t trust one another? They still liked one another, and that alone was a feeling worth pursuing. How long had it been since he felt like this? Since he just simply liked something (or in this case, someone) exactly as it was, without feeling guilty or ashamed for wanting something?

He spent the rest of the meal playing with the spectral hand on his thigh, occasionally rubbing his foot against Essek’s leg, unsure if Essek could feel what he was doing, but no longer caring. It was enough to just touch him, even if Essek couldn’t touch him back.

--

After dinner there were speeches, and a lot of them. It was nearing midnight, and Caleb was reaching a point of exhaustion, yet still he stood beside Essek as other members of the council gave their speeches. The first was from the Minister of Labor, who had a grand speech about working together in the face of adversity, how what made Xhorhas strong was their willingness to come together.

“Do you have to give a speech like this?” Caleb inquired, which was met with an amused chuckle from his beloved.

“No,” Essek scooted closer to him, reaching down to take Caleb’s hand in his own. “Thankfully.”

Then the War General spoke about the war efforts and how Xhorhas was prevailing against the evils of the Empire. Caleb tried not to listen to him much, instead focusing on the warmth of Essek’s hand wrapped in his.

“I’d like to dance with you,” Essek whispered into his ear; Caleb felt himself blush. “Later, on the balcony, after most people leave. If you’d like.”

“I’d love to.”

Next came the Sky Sibil, who talked about the history of Xhorhas and the light of the Luxon, and the importance of the holiday and the promise of rebirth.

After the Sky Sibil, the Bright Queen herself spoke, her voice regal. No one spoke while she spoke; no one dared. She thanked the Mighty Nein for bringing the Luxon to the Dynasty, and she spoke about how they still searched for the remaining Beacons, but that she had faith they’d return to them soon enough.

“I realize it’s late in the evening,” the Queen promised. “But I’d like to close our evening with a prayer. High Priestess Thelyss, if you would be so kind…?”

Suddenly, Essek tensed. “Something’s wrong,” he explained, letting go of Caleb’s hand and stepping closer to the dias where the rest of the council stood.

What happened next was something out of a nightmare: Essek’s sister approached the Bright Queen, embracing her tightly before stabbing her in the back, quite literally.

The disguise spell wore off immediately, as her form shifted from that of Essek’s sister to that of a short human woman with cropped dark hair, her knife bloody as the Bright Queen’s body crumbled. He would recognize the woman anywhere, even if it had been sixteen years since he saw her last.

Astrid.