Beau’s voice, usually that delightfully odd combination of smoky roughness and soft warmth, is cold and sharp as she asks this. The way it was at the very beginning, when she didn’t trust him as far as he could throw her.
“I… it got… dislocated,” he responds softly. “Their doctor says I should not move it for a while.”
“And how’d that happen,” she asks with no real inflection, barely bothering to mask her anger. When he looks up, he sees Beau’s fists and teeth are clenched, and the Shadowhand looks… uncomfortable. Like he doesn’t want to tell them the truth, but does not want to provide a lie for Caleb to contradict.
Interesting.
Possible leverage? But unexpected. He needs to understand more.
“The, ah,” Caleb clears his throat as he thinks. “The guard who did it has been punished and removed from duty, so says the Shadowhand.”
“Indeed,” confirms the drow. “One has been arrested, one stripped of rank.” still fairly composed under the gaze of the two standing members of the Nein.
“And what,” asks Beau, “the fuck did your guards do to Caleb?”
Why are they attempting to intimidate the Shadowhand in his own dungeons? How is it that they almost appear to be succeeding? Caleb does not understand, and he worries for them. Though he admittedly relishes the drow’s discomfort, he still worries for Beau and Nott’s safety, worries that they will keep asking questions and hear answers that will lead to violence. So he answers in the Shadowhand’s place.
“Ah, beat me to shit, you know. I got, uh, got a bit mouthy and might have upset him a little bit, you know. You would have been quite proud of me, I think, Beauregard,” he manages with a halfhearted smirk. Levity. Bonding. Their mutual anti-authoritarian streak. “But that, that does not matter, I… you… how are you two here? What are you even doing here?”
He sees his friends soften at the question, though Beau gives him the ‘we’re talking about this later’ look (which he is, by now, distressingly familiar with). Nott sags under some invisible weight as she answers.
“Caleb, you didn’t really think we were just going to leave you here, did you?” Her voice cracks more than usual, like it breaks her heart a bit to even say it.
“Well, I had hoped you would, ja.”
“Gods, Caleb, you’re such a dick.” Beauregard looks rather like she wants to punch him right now and he thinks he has never been more fond of her.
“This is true,” Caleb says, and he tries to convey a shrug with only his eyebrows. “I suspected you would try, yes, but… I had hoped…”
“Well that’s stupid!” Nott looks positively offended at any implication to the contrary. “We rescued Fjord and Jester and Yasha, didn’t we? And we didn’t even know them that well back then! Of course we’d come for you!”
“I know, liebchen, I know. I just…you know, I worried for you—”
“Well that’s dumb,” interrupts Beau.
“Super dumb,” agrees Nott.
Sheiße, he missed these two infuriating women so much.
“Yes, yes, we have established my foolishness, all well and good, ja, but how? They would not just let you in, no? Is everyone else alright?”
“Everybody's fine,” the monk interjects. “We looked for you for, like, the first day or two before we realized you’d been taken out of the city completely. So we went back to Lady Olios about that favor, and she brought us to Ghor Dranas.”
“Rohsona,” corrects Nott.
“Rohsona, fuck,” Beau corrects herself.
“Ah… that is where I am, then?”
“Yeah,” answers Nott. “We even met the Bright Queen, who is like, super gorgeous by the way, and crazy intimidating, but uh… it got a little… hairy.”
“Hairy?” Caleb asks with trepidation, knowing full well that the Shadowhand is standing watch, listening to every statement.
“We’ll tell you later,” she says, stroking the hair out of his eyes. “The point is they were willing to give us Yeza, but they didn’t want to release you yet. Cause, y’know… cause of your… past—”
“Nott—!”
Caleb almost shouts her name, which sends him into a coughing fit, sending pains all down his sides. This time it is Beau who fetches water, but she seems oddly calm given what Nott has revealed, what must have happened, and how stressful these negotiations must have been.
“They already know, Cay. They look one look at your arms and they told us they knew you were, like, a crazy torture spy or whatever. So we told them the truth,” a cold shiver runs up his spine. “You were trained bu—”
“That is quite enough,” interrupts the Shadowhand for the first time in a few minutes, causing Nott to nearly jump when she remembers his presence. “Apologies, but if I am to complete questioning, I must be able to verify what information is revealed independently, without… I suppose you might say, cross-contamination. Correct?”
“That is c-correct.” Caleb’s voice is hoarse, but he understands. It is not unreasonable.
“Look, the point is we told them the truth, alright,” adds Beau, deft as ever at cutting to the point. “Not details or anything, just… the truth. And if you tell them the truth too, the Bright Queen says this dude’ll let you go.”
“If I deem Mister Widogast is not a threat to the Dynasty,” the Shadowhand corrects, and gestures to the door. “And as such, if you would not mind, we can continue our questioning and see where that shall take us, yes?”
“Wait—” Caleb tries to put his hand up instinctively and lets out a pained yelp. It takes another few moments to collect himself before he can ask. “I just… how long? Have I been here?”
His three friends look at each other, obviously concerned that he doesn’t know. He knows the feeling.
“Yeah, uh, Floaty Boy over there said time sorta moves weirdly in here. Some kind of magic thing, I dunno.” Beauregard looks sad again, but all Caleb can think is ‘time magic’ and the word ‘dunamis’ scrawled in a book at the Cobalt Reserve. “Negotiating this took a while. Paperwork. We wanted to see you yesterday when they finally agreed to it, but they said you were unconscious.”
“That and… and I…” Nott looks ashamed. “I got Yeza out first. I focused on getting him out first. I’m sorry.”
“No, Nott. Do not be sorry. You chose right, my friend.”
“I'm still sorry, Caleb, I’m so sorry,” she goes to clasp his hand but looks afraid that she might hurt him, instead gently resting her fingers on his as tears fall over her wide green cheeks. Oh sweet girl. Oh, Nott the Brave. Caleb wishes he could kneel beside her, take her by the shoulders, and reassure her now. His pain was nothing compared to her husband’s life.
“We came here to reunite you with your husband,” he utters, trying to force every ounce of certainty he can muster into his voice. “That was the mission. You did good. And I am fine, you see? Alles gut. I shall see you soon, Nott the Brave.”
“Okay. Promise?”
Caleb just smiles and blinks slowly as a placeholder for a nod. He still can’t lie in the zone of truth.
“We’ll be upstairs waiting,” says Beau, her tone less comfort and more a demand. Oh, Beauregard. Ah, the awful sister he never wanted. She is a gottverdammt blessing and he does not deserve her either.
Beau takes Nott’s hand as they walk out of the room together.
Caleb feels the air leave his lungs when their faces disappear and the door shuts, leaving him alone with the Shadowhand again. He does not know if the lack of air is terror at being left there, or relief at seeing his friends alive, or any number of other sensations, all he knows is he is suddenly exhausted.
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timeasmymeasure
FILL: “Tough Crowd” [Caleb torture, non-con] 9/10
Date: 2021-08-17 05:42 pm (UTC)“I… it got… dislocated,” he responds softly. “Their doctor says I should not move it for a while.”
“And how’d that happen,” she asks with no real inflection, barely bothering to mask her anger. When he looks up, he sees Beau’s fists and teeth are clenched, and the Shadowhand looks… uncomfortable. Like he doesn’t want to tell them the truth, but does not want to provide a lie for Caleb to contradict.
Interesting.
Possible leverage? But unexpected. He needs to understand more.
“The, ah,” Caleb clears his throat as he thinks. “The guard who did it has been punished and removed from duty, so says the Shadowhand.”
“Indeed,” confirms the drow. “One has been arrested, one stripped of rank.” still fairly composed under the gaze of the two standing members of the Nein.
“And what,” asks Beau, “the fuck did your guards do to Caleb?”
Why are they attempting to intimidate the Shadowhand in his own dungeons? How is it that they almost appear to be succeeding? Caleb does not understand, and he worries for them. Though he admittedly relishes the drow’s discomfort, he still worries for Beau and Nott’s safety, worries that they will keep asking questions and hear answers that will lead to violence. So he answers in the Shadowhand’s place.
“Ah, beat me to shit, you know. I got, uh, got a bit mouthy and might have upset him a little bit, you know. You would have been quite proud of me, I think, Beauregard,” he manages with a halfhearted smirk. Levity. Bonding. Their mutual anti-authoritarian streak. “But that, that does not matter, I… you… how are you two here? What are you even doing here?”
He sees his friends soften at the question, though Beau gives him the ‘we’re talking about this later’ look (which he is, by now, distressingly familiar with). Nott sags under some invisible weight as she answers.
“Caleb, you didn’t really think we were just going to leave you here, did you?” Her voice cracks more than usual, like it breaks her heart a bit to even say it.
“Well, I had hoped you would, ja.”
“Gods, Caleb, you’re such a dick.” Beauregard looks rather like she wants to punch him right now and he thinks he has never been more fond of her.
“This is true,” Caleb says, and he tries to convey a shrug with only his eyebrows. “I suspected you would try, yes, but… I had hoped…”
“Well that’s stupid!” Nott looks positively offended at any implication to the contrary. “We rescued Fjord and Jester and Yasha, didn’t we? And we didn’t even know them that well back then! Of course we’d come for you!”
“I know, liebchen, I know. I just…you know, I worried for you—”
“Well that’s dumb,” interrupts Beau.
“Super dumb,” agrees Nott.
Sheiße, he missed these two infuriating women so much.
“Yes, yes, we have established my foolishness, all well and good, ja, but how? They would not just let you in, no? Is everyone else alright?”
“Everybody's fine,” the monk interjects. “We looked for you for, like, the first day or two before we realized you’d been taken out of the city completely. So we went back to Lady Olios about that favor, and she brought us to Ghor Dranas.”
“Rohsona,” corrects Nott.
“Rohsona, fuck,” Beau corrects herself.
“Ah… that is where I am, then?”
“Yeah,” answers Nott. “We even met the Bright Queen, who is like, super gorgeous by the way, and crazy intimidating, but uh… it got a little… hairy.”
“Hairy?” Caleb asks with trepidation, knowing full well that the Shadowhand is standing watch, listening to every statement.
“We’ll tell you later,” she says, stroking the hair out of his eyes. “The point is they were willing to give us Yeza, but they didn’t want to release you yet. Cause, y’know… cause of your… past—”
“Nott—!”
Caleb almost shouts her name, which sends him into a coughing fit, sending pains all down his sides. This time it is Beau who fetches water, but she seems oddly calm given what Nott has revealed, what must have happened, and how stressful these negotiations must have been.
“They already know, Cay. They look one look at your arms and they told us they knew you were, like, a crazy torture spy or whatever. So we told them the truth,” a cold shiver runs up his spine. “You were trained bu—”
“That is quite enough,” interrupts the Shadowhand for the first time in a few minutes, causing Nott to nearly jump when she remembers his presence. “Apologies, but if I am to complete questioning, I must be able to verify what information is revealed independently, without… I suppose you might say, cross-contamination. Correct?”
“That is c-correct.” Caleb’s voice is hoarse, but he understands. It is not unreasonable.
“Look, the point is we told them the truth, alright,” adds Beau, deft as ever at cutting to the point. “Not details or anything, just… the truth. And if you tell them the truth too, the Bright Queen says this dude’ll let you go.”
“If I deem Mister Widogast is not a threat to the Dynasty,” the Shadowhand corrects, and gestures to the door. “And as such, if you would not mind, we can continue our questioning and see where that shall take us, yes?”
“Wait—” Caleb tries to put his hand up instinctively and lets out a pained yelp. It takes another few moments to collect himself before he can ask. “I just… how long? Have I been here?”
His three friends look at each other, obviously concerned that he doesn’t know. He knows the feeling.
“It’s, uh… been about a week,” says Beau.
Just a week?
“F-feels longer,” Caleb murmurs. “Or shorter, perhaps.”
“Yeah, uh, Floaty Boy over there said time sorta moves weirdly in here. Some kind of magic thing, I dunno.” Beauregard looks sad again, but all Caleb can think is ‘time magic’ and the word ‘dunamis’ scrawled in a book at the Cobalt Reserve. “Negotiating this took a while. Paperwork. We wanted to see you yesterday when they finally agreed to it, but they said you were unconscious.”
“That and… and I…” Nott looks ashamed. “I got Yeza out first. I focused on getting him out first. I’m sorry.”
“No, Nott. Do not be sorry. You chose right, my friend.”
“I'm still sorry, Caleb, I’m so sorry,” she goes to clasp his hand but looks afraid that she might hurt him, instead gently resting her fingers on his as tears fall over her wide green cheeks. Oh sweet girl. Oh, Nott the Brave. Caleb wishes he could kneel beside her, take her by the shoulders, and reassure her now. His pain was nothing compared to her husband’s life.
“We came here to reunite you with your husband,” he utters, trying to force every ounce of certainty he can muster into his voice. “That was the mission. You did good. And I am fine, you see? Alles gut. I shall see you soon, Nott the Brave.”
“Okay. Promise?”
Caleb just smiles and blinks slowly as a placeholder for a nod. He still can’t lie in the zone of truth.
“We’ll be upstairs waiting,” says Beau, her tone less comfort and more a demand. Oh, Beauregard. Ah, the awful sister he never wanted. She is a gottverdammt blessing and he does not deserve her either.
Beau takes Nott’s hand as they walk out of the room together.
Caleb feels the air leave his lungs when their faces disappear and the door shuts, leaving him alone with the Shadowhand again. He does not know if the lack of air is terror at being left there, or relief at seeing his friends alive, or any number of other sensations, all he knows is he is suddenly exhausted.