“You're gonna wanna stay above deck,” Caduceus hears Fjord say as he feels another violent wave of nausea pass over him, nearly knocking him flat on the floor instead of just where he is, cross-legged with his head in his hands. He's taking in huge gulps of the weird, salty air (and not hyperventilating, thank you) when his sensitive ears pick up a soft flump from kind of behind him and the near-silent taktaktak of Nott’s approach to his front.
“You'll get your sea legs, Deuces,” Fjord continues, now behind him, and Caduceus feels the half-orc place a hand on his back lightly, so lightly, like if he does it the firbolg is going to throw himself back into the ocean. “Take your time, man. You’re lookin’ a little green.”
“Yeah, we would know,” Nott says, taking his head out of his hands and replacing them with her own.
As if they consulted each other, (and the thought that they may have done just that percolates absently through the nauseous haze that the rocking ship is pumping into his brain), the two of them start to move in motion, rubbing gentle circles into his temples and upper back and steadily, like a crocus opening to catch the sunlight, he feels some of his dizziness reel away into the night, left in the ship’s lazy wake.
The pit in his stomach, though, has yet to close.
The steady clonk of Caleb’s boots towards the three of them is unmistakable, even before he starts talking.
“Hey, it looks like Beau knows what she is doing somehow and I am not sure how Yasha is helping but Jester is maybe not the ideal supervisor at the moment, I think it might be good to have someone else looking after them for a bit until the adrenaline dies down. Is what you are doing over here very pressing or can you come back ov- oh.”
There it was. Caleb must have finally come close enough to comprehend the sorry, shaking pile of wet fur and clothes sandwiched between his compatriots. Caduceus is no fool. He knows that he joined the group during an emotionally trying time for the rest of the Nein. He catches how the wizard is ever so slightly more thorny towards him than the others. He's ready for the man’s footsteps to clonk back to the other side of the deck without a word, leaving him be with Fjord and Nott and the knowledge that he's never going to be quite right enough for Caleb to really care, and yes, maybe his shaking is worse now but who's to tell for sure, never mind that Nott has brought his head to rest against her small torso and Fjord has kneeled in full next to him and linked their elbows and is still rubbing his back.
Even considering the rest of the day, almost nothing has been as shocking as it is when Caduceus feels Caleb curl into his side opposite Fjord and take one of his hands in his own. The man is stunningly warm for a human and, honestly, Caduceus could cry as Caleb presses his thumbs into his palm and begins to massage out tension that he hadn’t even realized -- oh, he's been clenching his hands very tightly. That wasn't on purpose.
“That is right, isn't it,” Caleb murmurs, forehead resting on Caduceus’s damp shoulder, the edges of his breath skittering down his upper arm, “You have had a rougher day than the rest of us, Weichpilzchen.”
Yes, Caduceus could cry. He isn't present enough yet to tell if he already is.
“Hey! What is happening over here?” he hears, Jester’s voice twirling into being like a summer gale. He can picture her, rocking back on her heels, skirt blustering in the tailwind, but he can't pull his head away from Nott and her gentle claws, her soft presses into his scalp and temples. To be honest, his eyes may not even be open.
“Caduceus is just feeling a little seasick, that is all,” Caleb, of all people, pipes up. Caduceus brings his free hand up, carrying Fjord’s elbow up just a bit in the process, to wipe the pads of his fingers uselessly at his cheek.
“Fjord said I was looking a little green,” he says, voice deep and steady as always, but there is something, unquantifiable and raw, and he knows and he can tell that it's wrong.
“Well,” Jester says, “He and Nott would know best about that, I think.”
“I already said that,” Nott says, her voice crinkling into his hair and the crown of his head.
“It is a good joke, that's why,” Jester replies, and it is as Jester as always but he's the one who is good at this part, he knows, he can hear the edges of her defensiveness crawling up through her floorboards. If he was stressed by today, at least he had nothing tying him to that town. Jester had everything.
“Well,” Jester continues after half a beat too long, “I for one am very offended that we started this without me, considering I am probably the best cuddler here.”
Caduceus still can't quite see, whether he's trying through tears or closed eyes or the small body of Nott he can't tell, but the barrier around him cracks open to let in the moonlight before it is sealed back up with Jester's plump form and reaching arms. She cuddles in between Nott and Fjord and presses full into his side, sitting on his knee like he's almost ready to tell her a story before putting her to bed.
“You will be fine,” she whispers in his ear, running her fingertips over the wet trails running down his cheeks and curling her fingers back to massage the back of his neck. Behind him, Fjord’s hand rubs down to his mid-back instead. “The world is much bigger than your graveyard.”
Distantly, Caduceus can hear Beau shouting mildly panicked instructions at Yasha, and he hears Jester telling them that they are missing out on an important group meeting. He loses track of everything then, except for the rocking of the boat and the warmth of his companions - especially Jester, tucked into his waist, humming idly, fingers drawing patterns into the velvet of his neck.
Yasha’s voice is as far as anything else, then, but close enough that her soft soprano cracks over his head like a warm egg, something to keep him soft.
“The moon is very large tonight,” she says, and he assumes that the new, strong hand resting on his shoulder must be hers.
“Yeah, like it's watching us or something,” Beau says, touches less gruff than he's ever heard her. She's not up against him. She doesn't have to be.
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timeasmymeasure
All the Light In These Moonlit Eyes - Rating: T
Date: 2018-10-02 11:05 pm (UTC)“You'll get your sea legs, Deuces,” Fjord continues, now behind him, and Caduceus feels the half-orc place a hand on his back lightly, so lightly, like if he does it the firbolg is going to throw himself back into the ocean. “Take your time, man. You’re lookin’ a little green.”
“Yeah, we would know,” Nott says, taking his head out of his hands and replacing them with her own.
As if they consulted each other, (and the thought that they may have done just that percolates absently through the nauseous haze that the rocking ship is pumping into his brain), the two of them start to move in motion, rubbing gentle circles into his temples and upper back and steadily, like a crocus opening to catch the sunlight, he feels some of his dizziness reel away into the night, left in the ship’s lazy wake.
The pit in his stomach, though, has yet to close.
The steady clonk of Caleb’s boots towards the three of them is unmistakable, even before he starts talking.
“Hey, it looks like Beau knows what she is doing somehow and I am not sure how Yasha is helping but Jester is maybe not the ideal supervisor at the moment, I think it might be good to have someone else looking after them for a bit until the adrenaline dies down. Is what you are doing over here very pressing or can you come back ov- oh.”
There it was. Caleb must have finally come close enough to comprehend the sorry, shaking pile of wet fur and clothes sandwiched between his compatriots. Caduceus is no fool. He knows that he joined the group during an emotionally trying time for the rest of the Nein. He catches how the wizard is ever so slightly more thorny towards him than the others. He's ready for the man’s footsteps to clonk back to the other side of the deck without a word, leaving him be with Fjord and Nott and the knowledge that he's never going to be quite right enough for Caleb to really care, and yes, maybe his shaking is worse now but who's to tell for sure, never mind that Nott has brought his head to rest against her small torso and Fjord has kneeled in full next to him and linked their elbows and is still rubbing his back.
Even considering the rest of the day, almost nothing has been as shocking as it is when Caduceus feels Caleb curl into his side opposite Fjord and take one of his hands in his own. The man is stunningly warm for a human and, honestly, Caduceus could cry as Caleb presses his thumbs into his palm and begins to massage out tension that he hadn’t even realized -- oh, he's been clenching his hands very tightly. That wasn't on purpose.
“That is right, isn't it,” Caleb murmurs, forehead resting on Caduceus’s damp shoulder, the edges of his breath skittering down his upper arm, “You have had a rougher day than the rest of us, Weichpilzchen.”
Yes, Caduceus could cry. He isn't present enough yet to tell if he already is.
“Hey! What is happening over here?” he hears, Jester’s voice twirling into being like a summer gale. He can picture her, rocking back on her heels, skirt blustering in the tailwind, but he can't pull his head away from Nott and her gentle claws, her soft presses into his scalp and temples. To be honest, his eyes may not even be open.
“Caduceus is just feeling a little seasick, that is all,” Caleb, of all people, pipes up. Caduceus brings his free hand up, carrying Fjord’s elbow up just a bit in the process, to wipe the pads of his fingers uselessly at his cheek.
“Fjord said I was looking a little green,” he says, voice deep and steady as always, but there is something, unquantifiable and raw, and he knows and he can tell that it's wrong.
“Well,” Jester says, “He and Nott would know best about that, I think.”
“I already said that,” Nott says, her voice crinkling into his hair and the crown of his head.
“It is a good joke, that's why,” Jester replies, and it is as Jester as always but he's the one who is good at this part, he knows, he can hear the edges of her defensiveness crawling up through her floorboards. If he was stressed by today, at least he had nothing tying him to that town. Jester had everything.
“Well,” Jester continues after half a beat too long, “I for one am very offended that we started this without me, considering I am probably the best cuddler here.”
Caduceus still can't quite see, whether he's trying through tears or closed eyes or the small body of Nott he can't tell, but the barrier around him cracks open to let in the moonlight before it is sealed back up with Jester's plump form and reaching arms. She cuddles in between Nott and Fjord and presses full into his side, sitting on his knee like he's almost ready to tell her a story before putting her to bed.
“You will be fine,” she whispers in his ear, running her fingertips over the wet trails running down his cheeks and curling her fingers back to massage the back of his neck. Behind him, Fjord’s hand rubs down to his mid-back instead. “The world is much bigger than your graveyard.”
Distantly, Caduceus can hear Beau shouting mildly panicked instructions at Yasha, and he hears Jester telling them that they are missing out on an important group meeting. He loses track of everything then, except for the rocking of the boat and the warmth of his companions - especially Jester, tucked into his waist, humming idly, fingers drawing patterns into the velvet of his neck.
Yasha’s voice is as far as anything else, then, but close enough that her soft soprano cracks over his head like a warm egg, something to keep him soft.
“The moon is very large tonight,” she says, and he assumes that the new, strong hand resting on his shoulder must be hers.
“Yeah, like it's watching us or something,” Beau says, touches less gruff than he's ever heard her. She's not up against him. She doesn't have to be.
He drifts. Eventually, his stomach rumbles.