Not sure if this is exactly what the OP had in mind - I skipped right to the rescuing part because I am kind of a weenie - but hopefully this will be enjoyable nonetheless. Even if things start off with magical enchantment, we'll definitely get references to the backstory outlined here later.
Also, this takes place super early on, circa the first timeskip in Episode 16.
-------
There was something wrong with Molly.
Caleb was trying to ignore as much, but the reality was increasingly evident, and he was uncomfortably aware that the point was fast approaching where he’d be unable to do anything to help.
Molly liked people, liked being around them and listening to them, far more than most of the rest of the group did. Molly liked to flirt, and sometimes – less often than some people might assume to look at him – this led to him spending the night with others besides the Mighty Nein. That was fine. That was normal, for the tiefling. This group was still a new and fragile thing, but Caleb had still known him long enough to be reasonably certain of that much. And, at a glance, the scene before him now seemed to be more of that normalcy. The human who had taken the bar stool next to Molly seemed ordinary enough, even plain in appearance if not in dress, but he’d caught Molly’s eye all the same. They were smiling at one another, Caleb could hear them laughing, and it seemed only a matter of time until they stumbled upstairs together and that would be the last any of them would see of Molly for the night.
Except something was wrong – subtly wrong, but somehow even worse for it. The way Molly was sitting was wrong, the sound of his laughter was wrong. His body language wasn’t right – too devoted, too attentive, verging on submissive. Molly had a way of making people feel like they were important, that they were the sole occupant of his attentions and that everything they had to say was fascinating beyond measure. Caleb knew that much well enough. But he also knew, one con man to another, that part of the charm lay in making whoever he was talking to feel like they’d earned his attention, rather than being given it so easily.
No, Mollymauk Tealeaf was not one to grovel or pine or pant after someone who’d caught his eye. Caleb didn’t delude himself into thinking he was good at understanding people, but the tiefling was an open enough book in the ways that mattered, especially after some of the close calls they’d had together.
So none of this was right, and Caleb could think of a few different possible causes for it. Most of them were magic, and that thought made a cold shiver race down his spine. Because if magic was involved, that meant that the plain looking man who had stolen Molly’s attentions was probably a wizard of some description. If he wasn’t, then he was still wealthy enough to commission the work of one. Either way, that would mean he was connected, and especially here in Zadash that might mean he was connected to people whose notice Caleb was truly desperate to avoid.
He knew he should do something, knew he was watching Molly being caught in a web and drawn into a situation where he would get badly hurt in a way that might not leave marks but would leave scars all the same. And yet, fear kept his feet rooted to the floor for a crucial few moments. Fear kept trying to drown out the reality of the situation. Maybe I am mistaken. Maybe I am jumping to conclusions. Maybe it would be better to wait for one of the others to return. Perhaps he was simply being presumptuous in assuming he knew Molly well enough to be worried. He might be about to intrude on a situation the tiefling wouldn’t thank him for intruding on, and might give his teammate entirely the wrong idea.
Maybe everything was actually fine, and he wouldn’t have to put himself in danger at all.
Caleb might have sat there and kept lying to himself until much too late if not for Frumpkin. He was drawn out of his panicked spiral by the feeling of the cat kneading at his trouser leg. Caleb startled, muffling a yelp, before hastily pushing his chair back to stare down at his familiar – he’d almost forgotten he’d left him to wander the common room.
Frumpkin, meanwhile, stared up at him with bright amber eyes. Apparently satisfied that he had Caleb’s full attentions, he leapt up into Caleb’s lap instead, but rather than curling up he sat back on his hind legs and braced his front paws on Caleb’s chest, purring up a storm and refusing to break their locked gazes.
Almost on instinct, Caleb moved to pet his cat, scratching Frumpkin’s ears and then trailing his fingertips down the furry spine, feeling the vibrations rumbling gently up his arm and letting them slowly calm him. He reached out with his mind to touch Frumpkin’s lightly. Frumpkin reached back with thoughts of reassurance. His familiar was here and striving to remind him that he was not weak, that he was not powerless, that he was not without options.
Avoiding a dangerous situation was not the only way to be smart about it. He’d had plenty of chances to learn that on his journey so far. It wasn’t ideal but, then again, so few things were.
“I know,” he whispered, leaning down to nudge his head against Frumpkin’s. “I know. Thank you.”
Then he dug his fingers into Frumpkin’s fur to keep himself steady, and – with a supreme effort of will – managed to drag his attention back to Molly. His cat, meanwhile, simply took his accustomed spot curled up in Caleb’s lap, purring to provide more reassurance.
The first thing Caleb did was murmur the incantation for detecting magic, tucking his hands under the table to paint the requisite arcane gestures through the air unseen. There was absolutely a time crunch here and, if he truly was facing another wizard, then Molly’s captor would probably notice Caleb setting up to cast the ritual. He could burn the magic immediately, just this once.
Caleb blinked and, when he opened his eyes again, the air around him was painted in swirls of color. He saw the expected auras around himself – blue for the amulet, red for the glove, green around his cat. He saw a few scattered colors limning some of the other patrons in the common room, marking them as other mercenaries or adventurers passing through.
The man sitting beside Molly was lit with another blue haze, and – with his awareness already heightened by the spell – Caleb’s gaze snapped to the strip of leather tied around his wrist. Right. That answered that much, at least.
Molly, meanwhile, was almost subsumed by a shimmering gold aura that Caleb immediately recognized as enchantment magic. It veiled his eyes and ears, and a chain of that same golden energy extended from one of his wrists to the other wizard’s fingertips. He was so caught up in whatever magic had been laid on him that it nearly drowned out the gentle blue pulse at his chest where Caleb knew the periapt hung.
Something about that – about the sight of this man imposing his magic and his will over Molly so forcibly as to nearly drown out something which had brought Molly so much happiness – steadied Caleb’s heart and straightened his spine. It drowned out the cold chill of fear with a hot pulse of anger.
And, before he knew it, he was up and walking towards the bar. He paused just long enough to let Wessek bustle past him with a tray – the dragonborn’s bulk gave him enough cover and enough time to hastily cast a disguise spell. He adopted the dark-haired, dark-clothed form he had first tried to use to sneak into the Trispires, and covered the rest of the distance with his head held a little higher.
“Excuse me,” he said, his tone commanding, his voice clipped and cold. It was a way of speaking that would never truly leave him, and it did the job of getting both figures to look up at him in surprise. He moved to stand beside Molly, rested one hand on the tiefling’s shoulder and let the other drift towards his component pouch. All the while he stared at the other wizard as if he were scum beneath Caleb’s shoe. “Am I interrupting something?”
Molly’s brow furrowed, and this close it was easy to see how clouded his eyes were. “What are you—” he began, his voice slurred. He closed his mouth, tried again. “Who are you—”
Caleb forced himself to lay a heavy, possessive hand on Molly’s shoulder, squeezing once. “Hush, now.” He hated that it worked, hated that Molly closed his mouth and simply continued to stare at Caleb with empty, uncomprehending eyes. “I will handle this.”
Entitlement (1/?) cw attempted date rape
Also, this takes place super early on, circa the first timeskip in Episode 16.
-------
There was something wrong with Molly.
Caleb was trying to ignore as much, but the reality was increasingly evident, and he was uncomfortably aware that the point was fast approaching where he’d be unable to do anything to help.
Molly liked people, liked being around them and listening to them, far more than most of the rest of the group did. Molly liked to flirt, and sometimes – less often than some people might assume to look at him – this led to him spending the night with others besides the Mighty Nein. That was fine. That was normal, for the tiefling. This group was still a new and fragile thing, but Caleb had still known him long enough to be reasonably certain of that much.
And, at a glance, the scene before him now seemed to be more of that normalcy. The human who had taken the bar stool next to Molly seemed ordinary enough, even plain in appearance if not in dress, but he’d caught Molly’s eye all the same. They were smiling at one another, Caleb could hear them laughing, and it seemed only a matter of time until they stumbled upstairs together and that would be the last any of them would see of Molly for the night.
Except something was wrong – subtly wrong, but somehow even worse for it. The way Molly was sitting was wrong, the sound of his laughter was wrong. His body language wasn’t right – too devoted, too attentive, verging on submissive. Molly had a way of making people feel like they were important, that they were the sole occupant of his attentions and that everything they had to say was fascinating beyond measure. Caleb knew that much well enough. But he also knew, one con man to another, that part of the charm lay in making whoever he was talking to feel like they’d earned his attention, rather than being given it so easily.
No, Mollymauk Tealeaf was not one to grovel or pine or pant after someone who’d caught his eye. Caleb didn’t delude himself into thinking he was good at understanding people, but the tiefling was an open enough book in the ways that mattered, especially after some of the close calls they’d had together.
So none of this was right, and Caleb could think of a few different possible causes for it. Most of them were magic, and that thought made a cold shiver race down his spine. Because if magic was involved, that meant that the plain looking man who had stolen Molly’s attentions was probably a wizard of some description. If he wasn’t, then he was still wealthy enough to commission the work of one. Either way, that would mean he was connected, and especially here in Zadash that might mean he was connected to people whose notice Caleb was truly desperate to avoid.
He knew he should do something, knew he was watching Molly being caught in a web and drawn into a situation where he would get badly hurt in a way that might not leave marks but would leave scars all the same. And yet, fear kept his feet rooted to the floor for a crucial few moments. Fear kept trying to drown out the reality of the situation. Maybe I am mistaken. Maybe I am jumping to conclusions. Maybe it would be better to wait for one of the others to return. Perhaps he was simply being presumptuous in assuming he knew Molly well enough to be worried. He might be about to intrude on a situation the tiefling wouldn’t thank him for intruding on, and might give his teammate entirely the wrong idea.
Maybe everything was actually fine, and he wouldn’t have to put himself in danger at all.
Caleb might have sat there and kept lying to himself until much too late if not for Frumpkin. He was drawn out of his panicked spiral by the feeling of the cat kneading at his trouser leg. Caleb startled, muffling a yelp, before hastily pushing his chair back to stare down at his familiar – he’d almost forgotten he’d left him to wander the common room.
Frumpkin, meanwhile, stared up at him with bright amber eyes. Apparently satisfied that he had Caleb’s full attentions, he leapt up into Caleb’s lap instead, but rather than curling up he sat back on his hind legs and braced his front paws on Caleb’s chest, purring up a storm and refusing to break their locked gazes.
Almost on instinct, Caleb moved to pet his cat, scratching Frumpkin’s ears and then trailing his fingertips down the furry spine, feeling the vibrations rumbling gently up his arm and letting them slowly calm him. He reached out with his mind to touch Frumpkin’s lightly. Frumpkin reached back with thoughts of reassurance. His familiar was here and striving to remind him that he was not weak, that he was not powerless, that he was not without options.
Avoiding a dangerous situation was not the only way to be smart about it. He’d had plenty of chances to learn that on his journey so far. It wasn’t ideal but, then again, so few things were.
“I know,” he whispered, leaning down to nudge his head against Frumpkin’s. “I know. Thank you.”
Then he dug his fingers into Frumpkin’s fur to keep himself steady, and – with a supreme effort of will – managed to drag his attention back to Molly. His cat, meanwhile, simply took his accustomed spot curled up in Caleb’s lap, purring to provide more reassurance.
The first thing Caleb did was murmur the incantation for detecting magic, tucking his hands under the table to paint the requisite arcane gestures through the air unseen. There was absolutely a time crunch here and, if he truly was facing another wizard, then Molly’s captor would probably notice Caleb setting up to cast the ritual. He could burn the magic immediately, just this once.
Caleb blinked and, when he opened his eyes again, the air around him was painted in swirls of color. He saw the expected auras around himself – blue for the amulet, red for the glove, green around his cat. He saw a few scattered colors limning some of the other patrons in the common room, marking them as other mercenaries or adventurers passing through.
The man sitting beside Molly was lit with another blue haze, and – with his awareness already heightened by the spell – Caleb’s gaze snapped to the strip of leather tied around his wrist. Right. That answered that much, at least.
Molly, meanwhile, was almost subsumed by a shimmering gold aura that Caleb immediately recognized as enchantment magic. It veiled his eyes and ears, and a chain of that same golden energy extended from one of his wrists to the other wizard’s fingertips. He was so caught up in whatever magic had been laid on him that it nearly drowned out the gentle blue pulse at his chest where Caleb knew the periapt hung.
Something about that – about the sight of this man imposing his magic and his will over Molly so forcibly as to nearly drown out something which had brought Molly so much happiness – steadied Caleb’s heart and straightened his spine. It drowned out the cold chill of fear with a hot pulse of anger.
And, before he knew it, he was up and walking towards the bar. He paused just long enough to let Wessek bustle past him with a tray – the dragonborn’s bulk gave him enough cover and enough time to hastily cast a disguise spell. He adopted the dark-haired, dark-clothed form he had first tried to use to sneak into the Trispires, and covered the rest of the distance with his head held a little higher.
“Excuse me,” he said, his tone commanding, his voice clipped and cold. It was a way of speaking that would never truly leave him, and it did the job of getting both figures to look up at him in surprise. He moved to stand beside Molly, rested one hand on the tiefling’s shoulder and let the other drift towards his component pouch. All the while he stared at the other wizard as if he were scum beneath Caleb’s shoe. “Am I interrupting something?”
Molly’s brow furrowed, and this close it was easy to see how clouded his eyes were. “What are you—” he began, his voice slurred. He closed his mouth, tried again. “Who are you—”
Caleb forced himself to lay a heavy, possessive hand on Molly’s shoulder, squeezing once. “Hush, now.” He hated that it worked, hated that Molly closed his mouth and simply continued to stare at Caleb with empty, uncomprehending eyes. “I will handle this.”