Chapter Text
“When you become comfortable with uncertainty, infinite possibilities open up in your life.”
– Eckhart Tolle
He doesn’t know how to feel, watching the rise and revival of the Mighty Nein’s old friend. It’s a dangerous thing, this magic, fraught with complications and dangerous side effects, but… Essek can’t blame them, he really can’t. Given the chance… well, this isn’t his decision. He doesn’t know if he’d be strong enough to make any other, anyway.
As it is, he watches from a safe distance as Mollymauk is siphoned back into the purple tiefling’s body, and waits for the moment where it goes wrong. He waits with bated breath, like the rest of them, for entirely different reasons. He watches Caleb especially, takes in the stress and the anxiety on his face, and wants to help but can’t. He still doesn’t think he should, even though the look on Caleb’s face makes him want to rush over, take his hand and try to smooth out the wrinkles creasing his forehead.
He doesn’t, and Mollymauk Tealeaf breathes again.
It’s confusion and wariness at first. Mollymauk is weak and weary and uncertain, and the rest of them waver between cautious and looking like they want to throw themselves at him. When it becomes certain that it is Mollymauk, insomuch as they can tell right off resurrection from an insane, murderous demigod, the air changes; the tiefling makes some sort of joke that Essek can’t hear from this distance, there are tears, and a coat produced, and Caleb whips around to face Essek with pure, absolute joy on his face. He’s beautiful like that. Essek can’t fault them in the slightest.
He gives Caleb an encouraging smile, and there are tears on the wizard’s face when he sinks to his knees in the mud and muck next to Mollymauk, mouth moving and hands fluttering in conversation Essek can’t hear. They are mostly all crying, and fretting, and smiling as they take in their old friend; Essek hangs back, in the same way Caduceus sinks back into the mud with a few inches distance, because this is not his reunion. But he doesn’t mind. It is a joy to watch, after so much sorrow.
He is still smiling when Mollymauk leans into Caleb and kisses him.
He feels the smile slip away before he can stop it, ice cold trickling into his veins. Something wrenches in his chest; the breath seizes in his lungs and something in his mind screams I told you this would go wrong! I told you! For a second, he’s frozen as he watches the display in front of him unfold.
And then he reminds himself that this isn’t wrong, in the sense of the word. He knows– had known– about Caleb’s past with Mollymauk. It wasn’t a secret. It never had been. Caleb had been very forthcoming about that lost relationship when they had navigated their way to something more. He had appreciated the candid conversation at the time, but had never dreamed it would be something more than an old loss, and an open wound still yet to close. And honestly? Everything had happened so fast in the past handful of hours that he hadn’t thought about it at all, but… well. Here they were.
It is not an unnatural thing, Essek reiterates. Even as he can feel the gaze of some of his friends fall back to him. The wide-eyed look on Jester and Beau’s faces– but, no, he tells himself. Mollymauk had died while holding a relationship with Caleb; it is only a natural reaction for him to still be in love with the man upon his resurrection. For Mollymauk, he can only assume it feels like no time at all has passed. For Mollymauk, it’s as simple as breathing, to kiss the man he loves upon his return to the living.
Essek knows the desire: every morning upon waking, a groggy welcome to a new day with each other. So few and far in between still, but– ah, not the point right now.
Tactfully, he averts his eyes from Caleb and his tiefling lover, although not before he sees everyone, now, looking at him. Light help them, it’s not even as though their relationship has been a terribly obvious thing– why does he want to sink into the mud and muck as they all await his reaction? The embarrassment– and the irrational hurt– burns hot against his skin.
Strange. He is not used to these feelings.
Caleb pulls back first, a hand half extended between himself and Mollymauk like he can’t decide if he wants to drag him forward or push himself away. “Er– Mollymauk…” He flounders, and glances over his shoulder at Essek. Now he holds out the hand to him, inviting him over. Essek doesn’t really hesitate, just goes, trudging through the mud. He rests his hand in Caleb’s, and Caleb continues, “this is, um, Essek. Thelyss.”
It’s… it’s awkward, there’s no other word for it. He’s abruptly exhausted by the day and its events and the strange, sagging sensation that’s pulling at him as he looks into this Mollymauk’s eyes and smiles a tiny smile. It’s a weary, tight thing, like all those smiles back in the Bright Queen’s court. He hasn’t felt less convincing in so long. But he is tired. They are tired, and Mollymauk– animation in his eyes aside– does not look like he feels much better. Essek hopes he can pass this mood off as that.
“And this,” Caleb says to Essek, “this is Mollymauk Tealeaf, our good friend. Back again.”
Mollymauk is staring. It’s a subtle thing, mostly in the flick of eyes darting back and forth and the twitch of his tail scuffing the dirt. But Essek has spent a fair bit of his life learning to read people. He can see the thoughts forming in Mollymauk’s head as Caleb speaks, and holds Essek’s hand. His red eyes are not critical; there is no furrow in the brow nor downturned lips, but he is assessing so very intently as they stand by and do these halfhearted pleasantries.
Essek dips his head, greeting. “Welcome back, Mr. Tealeaf.”
“Oh.” The breath splutters out of Mollymauk’s mouth, and he waves a bloody hand. “Molly, please. I think?” His fingers come to rest thoughtfully at his chin, and then he seems to notice the blood staining his palm. He frowns and wipes his hand on his pants. “Molly, definitely. ‘Mr. Tealeaf’ gives me all kinds of creepy crawlies. Eugh.”
“I know the disconnect is, erm…” Caleb starts, “disquieting? Between Mollymauk and Lucien, but he is– he is good.” He looks back at Essek again, pink still on his cheeks and eyes beseeching. He thinks his eyes are beseeching, although he isn’t entirely sure what he wants him to understand. That their Molly was a good person? Nice? Trusting? Insofar as the connection between him and Lucien, no, Essek doesn’t think he will look at him without seeing it for some time. But as far as the Mighty Nein believing in their Mollymauk? Well… he trusts them, and so he will try to learn to trust Molly, too.
Perhaps, Essek knows, Caleb’s nervous glance means more than that. It involves something of the past romance, of someone held very dear having come back, and Essek can recognize that, too, but… he cannot begin to fathom the outcome of it. Not now, not immediately after all of this. Or maybe Caleb just thinks he might be angry. He isn’t. Complicated feelings aside– his place in them included– this is a man who Caleb had loved and had been loved by him in return. Essek cannot fault that. He cannot be angry about that.
He twitches a smile, this time more warm. “Well. I can’t imagine we followed him to the ends of the earth if he wasn’t,” he says, and it’s a joke, but also not. He knows the importance. He doesn’t know Mollymauk, but he knows the importance of this, and him.
Something in Caleb thaws, a little. He must realize the anger is not there. He smiles back, and jokes in return. “Oh, I don’t know. If anyone would do it…”
“Ah.” He laughs lightly. “It would be you seven, this is true.”
“Us nine,” Caleb says immediately, and that’s– including Mollymauk, and Essek. That is the only nine that it could be, him included.
Still included.
“You’ve changed,” Mollymauk says suddenly, tilting a smile towards Caleb. “You’ve learned to open up more, well done!”
“Er–” Caleb’s smile turns a little more embarrassed again, a little more bashful and a little more pained. “Molly–”
“No, I’m glad,” Molly interrupts. “Really,” he says, and his voice dips soft, and warm, and just as gentle. Yes… Essek understands. “I’m glad, wizard man. I’d want nothing else for you.”
“Not to interrupt,” Caduceus says suddenly, very much interrupting in his gentle, oblivious way, “but it’s cold? And wet.”
“Fuck, it is, isn’t it?” Beau says.
“And– whatever else, your friend has just been through an ordeal. A– whew, a big ordeal. Yeah.” Caduceus gestures towards nowhere, and everywhere. “Should we–”
“Definitely.”
“Fuck yes, please.”
“I can’t– I don’t have the magic for word of recall…” he trails off, looking hopefully at Jester. She shakes her head, and even Essek can’t boast having the magic for a teleportation spell today. It’s, as Caduceus would say, been a day. “Oh. Hm.”
“I can do the dome,” Caleb says. “Not… not the tower. But I can cast the dome, just…” He squeezes Essek’s hand, and then pulls away. Essek lets him go. “Give me a moment, ja?”
“Of course.”
“Dome?” Molly wraps his coat tighter around himself, and looks between them. Essek wonders if he imagines that his red eyes linger on him, but he must. Mollymauk– save coming back from the dead, or… however you’d like to say it– seems in good spirits. “What’s a dome, what’s the dome?”
“Oh, Molly,” Jester says, and her voice pitches to a level of excitement previously unmatched today. There are tears of happiness dried to ice on her cheeks. “You’ve missed so much. Caleb can make protective domes, ever since– well, for a while. And towers. Run by cats! And we have an actual house, in Rosohna!”
“Rosohna,” he repeats. The name sounds unfamiliar on his tongue, and Essek suddenly longs for– for what he had called home for so long.
“It’s in Xhorhas!”
Now Molly’s eyes unmistakably flick to Essek. That’s fair. He quirks a smile. “Gifted to them by the Bright Queen herself,” he explains. Mollymauk doesn’t look any less confused, but maybe a little impressed, now. “It’s… a long story.”
“Sounds like everyone’s been busy,” Mollymauk remarks. There isn’t a hint of maliciousness there, not that Essek can see. Just a growing lethargy, and warmth in his eyes as he takes in each and every one of their friends.
Time seems to drag as Caleb ritually casts the dome. Maybe Essek imagines that, too, or maybe the adrenaline is wearing off. They’ve defeated Lucien. They’ve saved Mollymauk. It is cold and they are tired. Even Molly seems to flag the rest of the way in the ten minutes that follow, but that isn’t wholly surprising. Caleb calls them into the dome and Yasha hefts the coat bundled purple tiefling into her arms and cradles him against her chest to carry him in. He rests his head on her shoulder, placid, and Essek breathes a sigh of exhaustion as he starts to follow after.
The places these people drove him. The things he helped them do, willing and ready.
A touch to his hand stops him. It’s small, and reaches up from waist height. Veth looks up at him. Her face is a little wary, beneath the joy and relief of the day. “I know it’s hard right now,” she says, “but this is our thing, alright? We– appreciate this, of course, we needed you, but… this is us. And Caleb– Caleb, most of all. Molly was special, to him.”
Essek ogles down at her. But then decides this conversation hasn't come out of nowhere; Veth and Beau in particular still don’t seem to like him, and that’s fair– he deserves that. He deserves much worse. (He is not unaware of the fact that Veth and Beau are the two who, perhaps, care the most about Caleb within this group. The most fiercely protective.) So, he nods, once, and says, “I know.”
“Because this is a lot,” Veth continues. “It’s everything we could have– everything good we could have asked for, but especially with him, he– he needs to digest this, alright? He has to think.”
“Of course.”
“Good.” Now Veth nods, and steps forward. “Let’s go in. It’s cold out here,” she finishes, and vanishes into the dome.
… all things considered, he’s glad the concern has come from Veth. She is– she can be brutal, he thinks, it’s true. But if it had been Beauregard–
An arm links with his, and he practically pitches forward in surprise when Jester leans into his frame. “He loves you,” she whispers. “Don’t forget that. He does. I know Caleb, and he loves with all his being, Essek, and that’s been you. And I know, the others, they’re still dealing with your baggage–” baggage, like that is an apt term, he thinks wryly, “but don’t take it too personal, okay? They’re worried. They love Caleb, too.”
All kinds of surprises today. So many emotions on so many people. Essek smiles faintly, and nods again. “I know. And it isn’t as though I have not earned their mistrust,” he adds, but Jester just shrugs a little, jostling him.
“It doesn’t change the fact Caleb still cares for you. And he did, with Molly, too, once. He never got to say goodbye either, you know? So it’s… complicated,” she decides. “It’s going to be hard. But Caleb– and Molly, too, because he wouldn’t, you don’t know him, but he’s very open and free but respects lots of things– they wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Not intentionally. There’s gonna be some stuff to work through, Veth is right, but try not to run yourself in circles, okay? Caleb loves you,” she repeats, and squeezes his arm to the point of mild pain.
That… it isn’t in question. He knows. He sometimes… often… wonders how he had managed to provoke such a response from such a talented, handsome wizard who could charm anyone he liked. Caleb could have anyone. It wouldn’t be hardship, for anyone to fall in love with him. And he had chosen Essek.
But you are a poor replacement for the likes of this Mollymauk Tealeaf, something whispers in his head. He tries to ignore it. He thinks it’s already rooted there, though.
Still, he does know that Caleb loves him. He does. “I know,” he repeats quietly, and Jester beams up at him.
“Tell him you love him too before you go to sleep tonight!”
He has, he does– express the sentiment, that is, but Jester’s enthusiasm towards it stymies him, just a bit. He feels his brow crinkle. “I… alright?”
“Hold him real tight,” she says, and pulls him into a side hug that aches his bruising bones. “He’s gonna need us, now more than ever. Okay?” She steps away and gestures to the dome. “Let’s go in! Even I’m getting cold now. Brr!” And she flounces in without another word, leaving Essek standing in the cold and wet by himself.
… so much to think about. He is so very tired. And cold, Light, it is cold. He shakes some new, fresh snow from his coat and hurries inside.
Caleb is waiting. If he looks apprehensive, Essek can only do his best to erase those doubts. He will do his best.
“Hallo,” Caleb greets. His eyes flick between Essek and Jester’s retreating back, just for a moment, before he takes a step closer, angling into Essek’s personal space. “Essek, I am– sorry–” here, Essek begins to shake his head in protest, but Caleb bumbles on. “I didn’t know he would– of course he would, but I did not think–”
“It’s alright,” he interrupts. Caleb, this time, goes silent. He watches. Just watches. “It’s alright,” Essek repeats, floundering a little as he tries to smooth this over. He loves Caleb, and the Mighty Nein, but affection is a rough concept when under prying eyes. It is even when not under prying eyes. “You did nothing wrong. Neither, for that matter, has Mollymauk. I promise.”
“Ja.” Caleb is still frowning, a little. “But it still feels like a betrayal, and I’m sorry.”
“There has been no betrayal.” Essek gives a tiny, halfhearted smile at his own expense. “Believe me, I know all about them.”
Caleb does not laugh at his little joke. But his eyes do soften a little, as if he maybe believes what he’s being told. He does smile, and it feels sad, but he reaches up to rest his hand along the curve of Essek’s jaw. “What have I done to deserve you…?” he murmurs, and then leans his forehead against his.
It is warm, and comfortable, and they are so close Essek longs to tip his head and seek Caleb’s mouth for his own. To chase away the taste of Mollymauk there, and replace it with this familiarity he embarrassingly craves. But he’s never been great at expressing emotions– too many years under the Bright Queen for that– and affection under the watchful eyes of their friends breaks him out in a cold sweat. He doesn’t think he could kiss him now, even if he wanted to, and he desperately wants to.
Instead, he raises his hand to rest over Caleb’s, and replies, “I could easily echo that question.”
“Maybe we are perfect for each other.” Caleb’s smile is a little frank, but not disingenuous. And it gives Essek butterflies. He had never understood that turn of phrase, before Caleb. But here they are.
… Light, here they are. “I’d like to think so,” Essek says softly, because he is unable to stop himself. Tell him you love him. Hold him real tight. Jester’s voice echoes in his head, and he flounders, a bit, again. There is no privacy in the dome, and Mollymauk is here. “For–” He stammers, and pulls back a bit to look at him properly. “For what it’s worth.”
“It is worth a lot.” Caleb kisses his forehead. So easy, so simple, and Essek nearly melts into it. Just like that first time, he wants to melt into it. He stops himself now like he had back then. “So very much.”
He hums along in agreement because he’s still unable to stop himself, and he’s still– he feels like he’s floating. He has to subtly check that he isn’t. (He is not.)
Caleb steps back, and Essek realizes– again– that Mollymauk is watching from where he’s curled into a spare bedroll and an almost alarming amount of blankets. Even from this distance, Essek can see he’s starting to shake. It’s probably shock. He’s probably going into shock, now. But there’s still a smile, a small, gentle thing that makes Essek want to squirm from the– tenderness of it all. Or– hm. Oh, things have gotten so much more complicated. He has such a feeling that Caleb is no longer his, and that he had been presumptuous to have tried staking a claim to him in the first place.
“Sleep with me?”
Essek, damningly, feels himself blush. Gods. Days on huddling in the dome, and still this. Still this, and even moreso now. “Of course,” he still says, and his voice does not come out thin. They have been huddling in the dome for days past now, and the– the few times they have slept, only slept, in Caleb’s bed in the tower. This is normal. This is– not embarrassing. He is just– emotionally fragile here, right now. It has been a long day. That is all.
He is not reverting to a bumbling, uncertain mess with the reawakening of Caleb’s old flame. He is not.
He does drape an arm around Caleb’s waist when they bed down for the night, ostensibly for the cuddling in this temperature controlled dome. But he curls around him, anyway, chest to back, and pretends he trances long before he does.
He also pretends he doesn’t notice Caleb staring at Molly from across the dome for a long time after everyone else is asleep, and he doesn’t acknowledge the sinking feeling in his chest that makes him want to hold him tighter.
It takes a long time for him to settle enough to actually trance. When he does, he imagines a falling city and red eyes watching them go down with it. He imagines cold, and cuddling, and Caleb, and Caleb, and Caleb, and a horrible dread of the city taking him further and further away.