Chapter Text
Fjord stares up at the dark ceiling, restless. He’s been tossing and turning for at least a couple of hours now. Ridiculous really. His skin feels itchy all over, like when he’s been around Frumpkin too long.
He closes his eyes and breathes out a deep sigh, nearly missing the creaking of the loose floorboard just outside his room. But the sound catches his ears and in a second he’s up with the Star Razor in hand.
As he hears the sound of knuckles rapping against solid wood, the tension in his shoulders loosens incrementally. He un-summons the sword with a sigh of relief, and begins to move towards the door. But just as his hand closes around the doorknob, he hears the familiar voice of Jester whisper from the other side, “Fjord? You awake?” And just like that, the tension is right back.
He grits his teeth. He really doesn’t want to have this talk.
He thinks about just letting her think he’s asleep, but then she knocks again and he reflexively opens the door.
“Fjord? Oh--” He looks down to see Jester standing with her hand poised to knock. She’s in one of her frilly nightgowns but there’s something off about her. Then he sees the tear tracks down her cheeks. He can’t help the frown that pulls at his lips.
“Jess? It’s late.” He tries to keep the gruff tone out of his voice but he sees her flinch. His frown deepens. Shit.
“I know, but, um, can we talk? I mean if you’re awake anyway?” She tries to smile up at him but the cracks are obvious and it’s almost painful to look at.
He blows out a breath and opens the door wider so she can enter. “Yeah, alright, come in.”
She ducks her head as she passes by him. “Thanks.” It’s weird to see her so upset, so timid, and he wants to just let this damn tension go, this anger, but he can’t.
She walks over towards the foot of his bed, but she doesn’t sit, she just shuffles her feet a bit, and hugs herself. He can see that she’s trying to keep her face neutral. He gives her a minute to speak up--he doesn’t want to start this conversation--but she stays silent.
Finally, just as he’s about to give in and say something, she looks up at him. She’s biting her lip, hard, like she’s trying to keep it together, and something about that image is just too much.
He turns away, towards the door. “Look, Jess, maybe you should go back to bed, it’s pretty late.”
He can hear the tears in her voice as she laughs humorlessly. “I mean it’s always dark here, and you’ve got those big shutters, how do you even know?”
He can feel himself turning back as he goes to answer, automatically, “Well, Caleb always tells us the--” He stops as he sees the look on her face and decides, yeah it’s really not important. Different tact. “Why are you here?”
She worries at her lip some more before answering. “Well, I--You know earlier I kind of, um, and well you got really mad, and I’ve been thinking about it, a lot, and I guess I wanted to--I don’t know, I haven’t thought...it’s been like, a while--and um, it’s just--”
He sighs. “Jess, come on.”
She closes her eyes for a moment and seems to steel herself, when she looks back at him, there’s a strange look in her eyes, almost on the verge of panic, something manic. “I want to explain. This morning.”
“There’s not a lot to explain.” He shrugs. “I thought we were done with all that Oskar shit, especially after the Forge, but we’re not, apparently.” He really doesn’t know how to deal with this. He wishes she would just leave.
Her eyes grow almost pleading. “Please, Fjord. Really, I didn’t mean to upset you. It just slipped out. But I can explain. I really didn’t mean to.”
He closes his eyes, fighting the urge to roll them, the urge to show just how done with all of this he already is. “Right, then. What did you mean to do?” If he’s short with her, well then, maybe she deserves it.
She seems almost surprised for a moment before she starts to rush all her words out at once. “I don’t know, Fjord. You know, in Tusk Love, Guinevere is like super pretty and wonderful and awesome and then there’s Oskar and he’s super handsome and hot and stuff and he’s like super in love with her and they’re like super cute and sexy together and stuff, you know?”
He tries to hide his grimace at the way this is already going, but Jester droops a bit and hugs herself tighter. “And, like, it’s not just Tusk Love, it’s like all of those stories. I read like lots and lots of smut books, a whole bunch, you know, growing up, because I wanted that kind of love when I was little. Because of course I did! Who doesn’t? But like, maybe I started realizing lately, or a while ago really, that, well maybe, I mean, you’re no Oskar...”
“No shit,” he grumbles. She gives him an imploring look. He tightens his jaw and gives her a short nod to continue.
“Right, so, you’re no Oskar. But maybe, well maybe I’m not really a Guinevere either? I mean, I wanted to be, and I thought you were, but, well, it’s not really like that is it? I don’t want you to sweep me off my feet! I did, but now I don’t. Because, then you wouldn’t be Fjord, and I wouldn’t be...Jester.”
His brow furrows in confusion and her eyes go wide. “Fjord. I think--” She trails off and he can almost see the gears whirring in her head. “So Beau and I went shopping yesterday, right? And we stocked up, on you know, reading material. And well, okay so I found this book for Beau, because she’s told me that like she can’t really relate to the books I like...”
“That’s the one you gave her earlier, isn’t it?” He has a feeling he might know where this is going and the thought leaves him a little nervous, a little...hopeful. But he tries to quash the feeling down, he’s not used to being optimistic.
Jester nods emphatically. “Yes! The Gilded Rose. But, um, I kind of hid it from her yesterday, right, cause I mean, I wanted to make sure it was good, you know, so I read it. I stayed up preeettty late to get through it.” She holds herself still for a moment, her tail flicking erratically behind her, before continuing, then ducks her head a bit while keeping eye contact in the way she does when she’s serious. “It was realllly good, Fjord. Like it was so good. It was, um, better than Tusk Love. A lot better. The heroine was this like lost princess, Rosie, and she was super lonely and hidden away, and then this really pretty thief, Jade, comes in and tries to steal the treasure from her tower but she winds up helping Rosie escape instead. And they go adventuring and do these amazing things together, and they grow like super close and then they realize that along the way they fell in love. And I really liked it. Like a lot.”
He can’t help but be caught up a little bit in her enthusiasm. Maybe he does know where this is going, and while he doesn’t know what in the world it has to do with this morning, he’s willing to push that aside for the moment. “You going to tell Beau?”
Her eyes widen in shock. “No! Yes! Wait, no! Tell Beau what?”
“That you like it?” He can’t help a nervous chuckle. It feels weird to encourage her so quickly after being at odds with her. “I haven’t misunderstood, have I?”
“No! You didn’t misunderstand. I mean--” She huffs. “Ugh, Fjord. The point is, that the Gilded Rose was sooo good, but...”
“But?” he prompts.
“But...I mean Jade was like super cool and stuff. But...she wasn’t...” She frowns. “I loved it so much, but I don’t want a Jade like I wanted an Oskar.”
His expression falls before he can correct it. Of course he was wrong, silly to hope.
Jester doesn’t seem to notice him as she continues. “I don’t want a Jade because I already have Beau. " She cuts herself off and throws her hands up to cover her mouth in shock as soon as the words escape her.
Fjord’s eyes snap back to her and there’s something anxious in his chest, like he must have heard her wrong. She stares at him and gapes, looking as if she wants to take the words back, then in a second she’s scrambling and all movement. “Shit! No, I mean! I don’t mean like, I have Beau like Rosie has Jade, because Beau definitely doesn’t like me like that. She likes like every girl but me, she likes girls like Keg and Reani and Yasha . So like, I don’t have her, so really I should just want a Jade right. Yeah, duh, obviously. Beau and I are just really good roommates. I don’t like love love her--”
Fjord cuts her off by putting his hands on her shoulders in a calming gesture. “Jester, hey, slow down.” She balls her hands into fists and forcibly stills herself under his touch, but her tail still gives her away. “So you’re saying you...?”
“Maybe have like a little itty bitty crush on Beau?” She frowns. “Yeah. Maybe?”
“Hold up. Then what was this morning all about?” he asks.
She shrugs, a helpless expression taking over her face, sniffling just a little, her eyes a bit manic. “I don’t know! I finished the book and, well, I was a little scared! I’m supposed to like boys! I’m supposed to like Oskar! I’m supposed to like you!"
He shrugs off his initial urge to flinch away. “Hey.” He squeezes her shoulder as he tries to collect his thoughts. “Why do you think you’re supposed to like anyone in particular? You’ve never cared that Beau doesn’t like boys, have you?”
She shakes her head violently. “No! Of course not! Beau liking boys would just be...weird. Like, remember Tracy, that was so weird."
“How about Yasha? You were fine with knowing she had a wife, right?”
“Of course! Her wife was beautiful!”
“And Keg and Reani, you liked them too, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah! They were so cool!”
“Then why is it so absurd that you might like girls? They do, and you don’t think that’s weird.”
Jester frowns and he can see the tears gathering in her eyes. “I don’t know! It’s just, you know, I'm supposed to like boys.”
“Well, what if you aren’t?”
She rubs at her eyes and sniffles. “I don’t know. It’s just like, why would all of those books have the princess falling for her knight in shining armor if there was another option? Why wouldn’t I have known from the beginning, you know?”
He shakes his head. “I—“
But she cuts him off with a searching look. “I mean you like girls, right Fjord, and like you’ve always known you have, like duh, so shouldn’t I know who I like too?”
His stomach drops and the back of his neck prickles with anxiety, but he starts talking before he even decides to. “I don’t, actually.” He chuckles, nervously, and rubs at the back of his neck as if that will just make his words go unnoticed somehow.
She cocks her head at him. No such luck.
“Don’t what?”
“Like--er, like women. Like that, romantically.” He shifts his gaze to his feet but he can still feel Jester’s eyes on him. There’s a long silence before he hears himself speaking up again. “I actually rather like men, myself.”
“But Avantika?!” Jester squeaks.
He winces. “Right. Avantika.” He shifts and looks back to Jester, concern and confusion clear across her face. “Well, that wasn’t really. We needed her to trust us. I got you all into that mess, so...” He tries to ignore the pit in his gut, the clawing, panicked feeling in his chest. He pushes it down. “Anyways, I wasn’t into Avantika, no.”
There’s another long silence, he can see Jester processing this information, and then, like a switch, there’s a bright, saccharine smile on her face and she’s wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. It nearly gives him whiplash. “Soooo, Fjord. Does that mean you liiiike somebody else? Is it Caduceus? You know you’ve been spending a lot of time—“
He hushes her, all of the sudden very aware of how thin the walls are in this house. “Shh, Jester. No. It’s not—No, I don’t like Caduceus. I mean I like him, but no. I don’t like anyone.”
She must catch his slip or see something in his face because the eyebrows don’t stop. “Ooooooh, so if it’s not Cad, thennnn....” She draws it out, giving him a look that is frankly terrifying, and he knows exactly where this is going. His stomach clenches anxiously and he wishes he could think of some way out of this, fast. But she’s too quick.
“Fjord.” She raises one eyebrow, with a devilish smirk. “Do you like....Cayyy-leb?” He doesn’t have to say anything, the warmth rising to his cheeks is more than enough answer for Jester. She squeaks in joy and jumps up and down, her tail swishing excitedly. “Fjord! Why didn’t you say anything!!!”
“Jester, no, look, okay. It’s not—it’s not important who I do or do not like, we’re talking about you here.”
“That’s not a no, Fjorddd.” He can see that she’s got a bone and she doesn’t plan to let go any time soon.
He sighs, tries to ease the lingering, buzzing tension from his body. “Look, Jester. You know how I put on Vandran’s accent, his persona?”
Her brow furrows at the switch in topic but she doesn’t protest it even as her energy subsides a little. “I mean yeah, how could I forget?”
“Well, okay, so It’s like you said, a bit, with your stories. I was trying to be him , that man that was listened to, respected even. And that man, well he didn’t...he wasn’t like me. He didn’t look at men like I did.” He searches her expression, tries to see if she understands where he’s going with this.
“But you’re not trying to be him anymore.”
“No, I'm not.” He nods. “But when I was, I tried to look at women the way he did. I tried to give it a go, but it always fell flat, felt wrong.”
She gets a pensive look on her face for a moment before asking, “So, when you kissed me on the cheek?”
His eyebrows rise of their own accord. “Oh, well, yeah, I guess. Forgot about that actually. I’m sorry Jess, I wasn’t trying to lead you on—“
“But you kinda were anyway--leading me on.”
“I—I guess I was, yes.” He flounders a bit. “I didn’t know how to—let you down easy.”
Jester’s expression darkens a bit and her gaze wanders away from his face. “You didn’t really try though, did you? Honesty usually works, or you know, so I’ve heard.” She backs away, just out of reach, crossing her arms back over her chest. “You know it was really confusing when you were all hot and cold, lots of mixed signals.”
Something in her tone, the accusation, makes him feel caged, backed into a corner even as she makes distance between them. He remembers how she fluttered her eyelashes at him this morning, sugary sweet, with that blasted name on her tongue. “You kept making me up to be this damn romantic hero, Jess. Like I was here specifically to woo you and carry you off into the sunset. You kept calling me Oskar for fuck’s sake.” He winces at how biting he sounds. He doesn't want to come off so harsh, but this wound has been festering longer than he realized.
Jester stays quiet, he can see she’s trying not to cry again and his chest hurts. He tries to catch her eye and soften his voice as best he can, but he can feel the tension still running through his veins. “I’m sorry, Jessie. I shouldn’t have played into it, you’re right. But, it felt kind of nice, sometimes, to think I was doing something right. It felt nice to feel wanted, but it was also very confusing.” This morning was confusing. He takes a solidifying breath and she finally meets his eye. “I just wanted to be your friend, Jester.”
She nods and wipes at her eyes with one hand. “I...I think I knew that it was making you uncomfortable. I knew this morning, but I did it anyway because I guess I just didn’t want to, like, accept it?” She shrugs and tries to hide a small hiccup with the back of her hand. “I, um, well, I want to be your friend too, and we are friends right? Of course we are! But, maybe I was keeping you at arms’ length on purpose?” She gives him a sheepish smile and he tries to meet it. She doesn’t comment when it falls flat.
“Yeah, I think I know what you mean.”
“It’s just, like, easier to not think about it when you’ve got distractions. Like...Oskar.”
He nods and, tentatively, reaches forward to take her hand in his. She looks down at their hands and then up to meet his eyes and offers him a more sincere smile which he returns. “You know, Jess, that’s kind of what I’m saying. You focused a lot of your energy on Oskar, and maybe that’s because you were trying to be someone you’re not. It can be pretty easy to fall too deep into the part.” The I should know is implied, he thinks.
“So, like, I was trying to convince myself I liked boys? Because I wanted to be the princess? Or like Guinevere, or whatever.”
He nods. “I think--I think it’s because you wanted to be loved, and maybe that was the only way you knew how.”
Jester nods jerkily and tries to smile but something in it breaks and before he can say anything, she’s sobbing. He pulls her forward into a hug and lets her cry against his chest. “Hey, Jess, it’s okay.” He can feel tears prickling at his own eyes but he tries valiantly to fight them back. He presses a kiss to her hair and rubs his hand up and down her back. “You don’t have to pretend anymore. We all love you, you know that, right?”
She nods into his chest and inches closer, holding onto him so tightly it nearly hurts. “I’m sorry, Fjord.” He just barely makes out her mumble against his chest.
“Hey, it’s alright. I mean, it wasn’t, but now it is. Just, don’t do it again?” She nods against his chest, but it’s hesitant, so he adds, “We’re still friends, really.” He hugs her a bit tighter to make his point and he can feel her sigh out a long breath.
They stand like that for a good few minutes before she gently pulls far enough away to shift her face up towards him. He’s careful to not get struck by her horns.
There’s a certain vulnerability to her eyes as she looks up at him, she looks sad, almost pitying, it makes something in his chest twinge. She takes a deep breath and for a moment, he’s afraid.
“I really hurt you, Fjord.”
Oh.
He goes to shrug it off, brings his thumb up to wipe a tear from her cheek, but she grabs his wrist to stop him. “No, I did.” She nods, to convince herself or him, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really know what to say. Because it did hurt, but it wasn’t all her fault.
“S’fine,” he grunts, not sure where his voice has gone.
She shakes her head. “No, Fjord, it’s really not. Thank you for being sweet, but it’s not fine.” She pulls away then and brings her hands down to grasp his own, so they’re standing face to face, hands linked between them. “We weren’t honest with each other. No, we weren’t. I hurt you, and you didn’t tell me. For a long time.”
He goes to protest, defend himself maybe, but she stops him. “No, Fjord, really. We were friends, but you didn’t trust me. You’re so quick to comfort me, and that’s really sweet of you, but sometimes you need to be comforted too, you know?” There’s so much kindness in her eyes, kindness he’s not sure he deserves.
“I--”
She cuts him off for a second time, pulling his hands towards her. “You didn’t trust me because you were afraid to. I think I get it now. I made you up to be someone you aren’t, and it made you feel small.” She drops one of his hands and brings her now-free hand up to rest on his chest, above his heart. “But you’re amazing, Fjord. And I’m so sorry that I made you feel otherwise. I mean, you saved me from dying, in the temple. And when we--” A tear rolls down her face and this time there’s no resistance when he goes to wipe it away.
She sniffs and raises her chin, in defiance, or maybe solidarity. “When they took us, the Shepherds,” the name is a hiss on her lips, “you protected us--me. You always protect us. You care so much, Fjord. You have such a big heart.” She taps her hand where it rests on his chest. Then she leans in, whispers conspiringly, “And you know...The Wildmother? She’s preettty lucky to have you.” She smiles now, and there’s something incredibly soft to it, something that breaks whatever defenses he’s putting up, and the tears he was trying to hold back break free.
He hasn’t cried in front of someone else in a long time.
Jester looks startled for a moment before she pulls him closer. She smooths a hand over his forehead, brushing back the loose fringe, and squeezes his hand with the other. He lowers his head til they’re resting forehead to forehead, and somehow it’s not weird or awkward, it’s just soothing. She brushes a few stray tears from his cheeks and he fights back a watery smile. She holds his gaze. “I love you, Fjord. And I’m sorry I couldn’t say that sooner.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, his heart constricting in his chest, before moving to bring her back into a hug, tucking his head against her shoulder. “I love you too, Jester.” Then, in barely more than a whisper, “Thank you.”
They hold onto each other like a lifeline. And Fjord thinks maybe he’s never felt safer. When they pull back, some minutes later, Jester smiles up at him, brightly. “You know, Fjord--” She reaches up and brushes her thumb against one of his tusks; they’ve grown quite a bit. She meets his eyes and her smile softens. “--They look really nice on you.”
He smiles back at her, then ducks his head and brings a hand up to rub at his chin. “Yeah, they’re starting to grow on me.” Jester snorts and he looks up with a groan. “No. Nope--that was not a pun.”
“It definitely was.” She shakes her head and laughs. “It was so bad.” Then she gets a glint in her eye and he barely has time to prepare for whatever she’s about to do when she leans in and whispers, loudly, in a sing-song voice. “You know who else likes your tusks? Cay-leb.” He can feel the flush returning to his cheeks involuntarily, even as he tries to fight it down.
“Now, Jessie, come on. That is not--” He takes a breath. “You’re not going to--”
She pats his arm and her mischievous smile mellows a little. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him, Fjord. But!” She holds a finger up to him.
His eyes widen. “Jess--”
She shakes her head and points the finger at his chest, poking him admonishingly. “But! You should. Tell him. I bet he would go so red. Like redder than his hair. And also, fall madly in love with you, I mean, obviously.”
He tries to ignore how the thought of making Caleb blush makes his stomach swoop, or even worse, him falling in--no, nope, and shakes his head. “Look, Jessie, I’ve got to take my own time on this, okay? I don’t--plan to tell him, at least, not anytime soon.” She sags a bit and looks as if she’s about to argue so he twists his expression into something mimicking her previous smile and adds, “Anyway, what about Beau? I’m not sure I’ve ever even seen her blush, but I bet she’d make an exception for you.”
Jester goes quiet as her eyes widen and her mouth makes an ‘oh’ shape. He can’t help the smirk of triumph that works its way onto his face in response.
She gasps and looks at him, aghast, “Oh no--”
And, all of the sudden, he definitely needs this conversation to end. He’s not sure he can handle crush-talk with Jester just yet. So he shuffles her over to the door before she can finish her thought.
“You know it’s getting really late, Jess. You should get back before Beau notices you’re missing, wouldn’t want to worry her.” He opens the door and ushers Jester out just as she’s about to protest.
“Ohmygosh, no, Fjord .” She looks between his door and the door to her and Beau’s shared room, then back to him, and whisper-shouts, rather loudly really, “How am I supposed to go back in there now?!” He cringes, he is definitely sure that the walls are not that thick. He hopes Beau’s a heavy sleeper (but he knows she isn’t, maybe her snores will drown this out).
He shrugs and gives her his best ‘you just gotta deal with it’ face. “You’ll figure it out.” And then he closes the door in her face, and he only feels slightly bad about it when she doesn’t push back. He puts his back against the door, and once he’s sure he’s heard the mirroring sound of Jester’s door opening and closing, he lets out a very long, shaky breath.
Then, after a long moment of his thoughts amounting to approximately "what the fuck just happened” he walks back to his bed, collapses onto it, and stares up at the ceiling once again.
Well, Hell.