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They tell him the rules of the game while their campfire crackles loudly in the silence of the plains.
Caduceus pours Jester some of the juice he's planning on drinking, and she settles against his side, head on his shoulder. It's a quiet night, in the middle of a quiet job. No rush, no danger, just a stop from one place to the next.
“Never have I ever- fuck-” Beau trips over something before she makes it back to the circle with a bottle of something cloudy. “Never have I ever owned a bird before.”
Jester drinks and Fjord holds a hand out for Beau to settle herself down with. She slaps his hand away.
“Kind of a low ball, ain't it?” Fjord laughs when she strains against the cork, and the cork goes flying behind them, into the tents.
“You start with lowballs dude, you can't open with the orgy questions. You want to go in order or-”
“Me!” Nott yells to her left and Caleb blinks slowly. “Never have I ever danced at a ball before.” Caleb and Beau drank, and Nott squealed with joy, nudging her boy's sides. “Was it with Astrid?”
Caleb very pointedly doesn't answer.
They go around a few times before everyone is a little drunk and a little loose and Caduceus can only assume that now is the time for orgy questions. Fjord says he's never kissed a boy and it all barrels out from there. Beau asks about an actual orgy and Caleb drinks. There's a series of whistles and peals of laughter and Caduceus is more surprised than anything.
Jester says that she's never had sex and Caleb watches Caduceus not drink with understanding eyes.
Yasha asks about bondage and Caleb drinks. Fjord asks about multiple partners and Caleb drinks. Jester mentions something about some numbers and Caleb drinks. Beau calls him a slut, and he ignores her. Jester asks about being in love and Caleb drinks, and Beau snorts, and he frowns. Fjord asks about weird words Caduceus can't remember and Caleb drinks to all of them.
Caleb's own questions are mundane things, about magic or books or animals, and Nott doesn't needle him, but the rest of them do.
“Never have I ever been married,” Caduceus says, for want of a better question, and Caleb drinks.
The second Jester opens her mouth to ask, Caleb excuses himself and heads into the tents.
“Is he okay?” Caduceus leans down to ask Nott, and she shrugs, telling him that she is very drunk, and would you please look after her baby?
So he gets up and heads into the tent as quietly as he can.
Caleb is curled on his side, thick woolen blanket already pulled up to his shoulders.
“Mr. Caleb?”
Only silence meets him.
…
The longer they travel, the more Caduceus notices things.
The way Beau seems to hang off of Yasha's every word, inviting her to bunk with her whenever possible, buying her things. The way Jester gets exceedingly more and more frustrated with Fjord not noticing her attention and the way Fjord tints a darker shade of green every time she gives it.
He notices the way Caleb jokes and smiles and kids with the others and how he's patient with them whenever one of them asks him anything about whoever he was apparently married to. He fields every question, and he is very good at fielding questions.
It takes Caduceus longer then he would like to check if the man wears a ring or not.
He doesn't.
They stop in a small village, and between deciding what to do the next day Caduceus watches Caleb drink. He watches the way his throat works, and it feels odd. Caleb's skin goes blotchy, and Caduceus finally notices Caleb staring.
They don't talk about it.
…
“I would like to try something,” Caleb says in a low whisper.
They've split up, working a job in the richer district of Zadash and the ball that they somehow managed to sneak their way into dazzles Caduceus's mind in a million different ways. He's charmed himself into an elf, ginger like Caleb, and only a little bit taller.
The married couple they're in the process of robbing, liberating of financial gains as Beau likes to put it, have been fighting all night. The locks on their manor are charmed in a way that Beau and Nott or Fjord couldn't break into.
“Sure,” Caduceus says.
“Don't tell the others,” Caleb says before pressing a glass into his hand walking off towards the husband.
Caduceus is left in the corner, leaning against a wall with a champagne glass. He watches Caleb come up to the man, close to the man, chest to chest with the man with a laugh. His fingers brush the man's hair back, and he leans in even closer to whisper something to him. The man's flush is evident even from where he's standing, and he gives the room a quick scan for the wife.
When he looks back, they're dancing. No one watches them other than Caduceus, and when the man dips Caleb, they catch each other's eyes. There's a tiny shift in his shoulders, a shrug maybe, before the man pulls him back upright and spins him around the room.
He looks like a doll when the other man is significantly larger. Caduceus feels like he should worry, especially with how soft Caleb is to physical harm.
They dance three more songs before Caleb grips the man's bicep and laughs, whispering something in his ear again. The man raises an arm- to call an attendant maybe- before Caleb pulls it back down and whispers something again.
Caduceus trails after them when they leave the room. There are few people in the hall, but he shifts into a mouse to follow after just to be safe. Hallway after hallway, doors after doors, until the man finally gets to an open one and Caleb playfully pushes the man inside, leaving the door open just a crack.
He skids inside and climbs up a desk with a lot of bottles, lots of room to hide, and he sees Caleb tug his jacket off of his body that it finally clicks.
A lot of things click into place, and it turns Caduceus's stomach.
Caleb's tie comes off and with a long laugh and more whispering he covers the man's eyes with it.
He wonders with brief horror who Caleb is married too. If they know- if they knew that he does this to con people.
He's a pretty man, in the dim light. Under all of the dirt.
He's thin too. Thin and covered in scars- horrific, deep scars covered in more recent bruises from the bear they fought outside of the city. Something un-clicks and he's more confused than anything. Caleb has his mouth on him, and the other man grips his hair and makes pleased sounds, head thrown back already.
He watches Caleb climb on top of him afterward, the way the dim light of the lanterns bounces off of his back, his hair. He's quiet. The other man sighs and groans and grunts and chants the fake name Caleb gave him, “Phillip- Phillip- fuck yes- you're so- fuck fuck fuck-” And Caleb doesn't make a noise outside of occasional sighs of frustration.
The man finishes, and Caleb stares at the ceiling, grinding down until the man grips Caleb's thigh and he finishes silently, spilling on to the man's shirt.
He says something in Zemnian, voice a little rough before wiping the man clean with the bed sheet.
“What?”
“Could I see your home?” Caleb asks, getting off and Caduceus sees a trail of white down his legs. “So you can fuck me in your bed like you told me you wanted too?”
“T-tonight? I- You want to go again?”
“Ja- Just- Looking at you drives me crazy. And just thinking about you- under me- on all of those exotic furs?” He laughs- chuckles? He wipes himself clean with another part of the bed sheet. “Please? She's not going to be back until later right?”
The man agrees, and Caleb puts his shirt back on before pulling the makeshift blindfold off.
He feels like he should ask a million questions, to stop Caleb and ask him what he's actually doing.
“Meet me outside, ja?”
It's cold that night- heavy fog rolling over the city.
Caleb sends Nott a message while Caduceus settles on Caleb's shoulders tucked in between the suit jacket and his scarf when they get into the carriage.
“We're going to talk about this.” Caduceus whispers in Sylvan.
Caleb doesn't answer.
…
The sleeping arrangements seemed to be set in stone before Caduceus started traveling with them.
Beau would sleep with Jester, and if Yasha was there, she would join them. They either slept in separate beds or all lumped in a pile together, Jester's weasel on top of them. Caleb and Nott would always sleep glued to each other, with Frumpkin tucked between them. Fjord would sleep with Mollymauk.
Caduceus is still only vaguely aware of who Mollymauk was. Jester showed him their portrait. They were beautiful if the picture was to be believed and Jester was a phenomenally good artist. Their eyes are expressive in every picture, every doodle, and Caduceus has never seen a more colorful person.
They all miss them. Jester and Nott maybe least of all, but they still miss them. Yasha, after her initial grieving period, seems to be handling herself but when Fjord calls Caduceus Molly, the entire room freezes, even in the middle of a fight.
They all miss them.
And them being gone ruins the sleeping arrangements. He bunks with Fjord sometimes, but they're not clicking as well as he thought they might. Sometimes Yasha bunks with Fjord and Caduceus is invited to sleep with the girls. Sometimes Nott takes his place, and he's left to room with Caleb.
Caleb whispers Mollymauk's name in the dark when he thinks Caduceus is asleep.
They don't talk about it.
...
They're in the back of the cart alone.
Yasha is off, which is a regular occurrence, apparently. The others stopped at a traveling market. Zadash was two weeks ago. Caduceus remembers every second of it.
“So,” Caleb says.
“So.” Caduceus echoes back. There's been an odd undercurrent of irritation since that night. A tension that's dangerous when he's the one who's responsible for keeping them alive.
“I want- wanted to thank you. For not telling them. You have questions, ja?”
“I've got a few.”
“Just a few?” If it's a meant to be a joke, it doesn't land. “Right, well.” Caleb shrugs. “I don't promise to tell you the truth.” Caduceus doesn't need him too. He's pretty sure he can figure it out on his own at this point.
“How old were you the first time you did that?”
“Fucked someone?”
“Fucked someone for personal gain.”
“Ah.” He says. Caduceus waits. He crosses his arms and waits. He's going to wait as long as he has too because it keeps him up at night and he wants it to stop. He needs it to stop. “Young.”
“How young?” The worst comes to mind, and Caleb waves his hand.
“It was with people my age. It was a game that we-” His breathing hitches, and aside from his fires, Caduceus is pretty sure this is the first time he's seen Caleb go still like that. “To see- to see what we can get away with. It wasn't bad.”
“Which of us are you trying to convince?” Caleb stares into the middle distance.
There's something bitter in his face- the way his mouth dips for just a moment.
“Look-” He clears his throat and Caduceus looks. “I'm sorry if I offended your delicate sensibilities, but it's not a big deal. It's not hurting anyone.” It's hurting you- it hurt you, he wants to say. He doesn't. “It's just work.”
“Work?” He asks. “And when you told Fjord to get over himself and sleep with the Captain, that was work? That didn't hurt anyone?”
“We would have died otherwise.”
“You don't know that.” His voice raises, and Caleb looks like he wants to bolt.
“I knew people like that.” Caleb says, and that's pretty much, isn't it?
That's all there is.
Even sheltered as he is, his parents warned all of his siblings to stay away from strangers, even those that came to their home. Especially those that came to their home.
“I'm sorry for bringing it up.” He says, and Caleb shrugs.
“It doesn't really matter. You were curious, ja? It happens. Did you watch?” He asks, ears tinting red and this is the only guilt he's seen on the man.
“You left the door open.
“I'm sorry. Really. That's awkward, ja?”
“Who are you married too, Mr. Caleb.” Caduceus looks at the spot where a ring would be, should be, but isn't.
Caleb goes still again, and Caduceus watches his face and waits. He honestly doesn't know what answer he could possibly expect that would be satisfying. Are they dead, he thinks to ask. Do they know you sleep with people for money, for crime, people that aren't them? Does he have a child somewhere?
“Two people.” Caleb finally says, quietly whispered. “Two people, ja. I don't know where they are.”
“Which two people?” Caleb's face contorts into irritation, lips tight and brows furrowed.
“You don't get their names.” He hisses. “You don't.”
“Do they know?”
“Yes.” It's short, it's terse, and it's edging very quickly towards dangerous.
“That you-”
“That I whore myself out for personal gain? Yes.” Malice drips out of his mouth. Caduceus isn't sure which one it's directed towards. “I'm good at it.” He grits his teeth and stares ahead at something behind Caduceus. “They know I'm good at it.”
“My parents taught me that marriage was something sacred.” Caduceus talks slowly and Caleb's eyes snap to meet his.
“It was.” He hisses out, grabbing Frumpkin into his arms and stepping out of the cart.
…
The more they travel together, the more Caduceus learns about how they all react to his healing.
Jester takes it the easiest, she's used to magic warping skin and breathing life into her body because her god speaks through her hands and her voice just as The Wild Mother does for Caduceus. She takes it with a smile, no hesitation, no worry, just faith, and a good attitude.
Yasha is grateful to be healed, but she's mostly confused that her body fixes itself after a few whispered words. Nott is much the same, but then Nott is a distance fighter, and she doesn't have to worry much about that sort of thing.
Beau and Fjord are both mystified when skin re-knits itself and bruises disappear. He can feel it when he casts, their bodies fighting against it in the only way most bodies know how to, but he mutters a little louder, and the resistance disappears.
They're all grateful to take the will of The Wild Mother, grateful that they are safe with their new friend.
Caleb, though, Caleb gets hurt the most.
Caduceus picks him up the most, because he promised Nott he would. Caduceus see's Caleb's body, and it's tiny little micro-expressions of shock that someone bothers to fix him. His fingers shake with Caduceus's magic, and later, in the tents, Caduceus watches Caleb's rough hands brush where scars should be.
They don't talk about it.
…
They end up bunking for the night together.
It's been a while. Since it's been just the two of them. Caduceus is fairly certain he knows why.
They all go to the baths. One of Caduceus's new favorite things are baths. Sitting in warm, pleasant smelling water with his friends, rubbing off dirt and oil from his skin and his fur, washing his hair with pretty perfumed soap? If nothing else, him leaving his home has been worth the experience.
Caleb is tired, he can see it in the way the human carries himself, and it's even easier to spot without all of the clothing. While Caleb changes into his clean small clothes, he drops the spell that keeps his scars hidden from the rest.
Caduceus still doesn't understand what or how or why he's covered in so many of them, all in different places and done by different things. Little welts and long deep gashes and burns in places. Caduceus imagines that Nott is the only other person who has ever seen his scars.
Well.
Nott and Mollymauk, probably.
But they don't talk about Mollymauk. They don't talk about much these days. But Caduceus still picks him up every time he goes down.
It's cold in the room, they're further up north again, and Caleb requests extra blankets from the innkeeper. In the end, he has three, and he bundles himself up and turns away from Caduceus as soon as he can.
“I wanted to apologize.” Caduceus starts. “For upsetting you.”
“Apology accepted.” But Caleb hasn't even turned to look at him.
“We were raised differently.”
“Ja, we were.”
“I assumed some things.”
“Most people do.”
Caduceus sits down on his own bed slowly.
“I'm sure whoever they are, they're lovely people. And they understand you. And care about you.”
Caleb doesn't answer to that. “And I shouldn't have been so-”
“Rude.”
Caduceus chuckles a little, despite himself.
“Abrasive.”
“Sure.”
He's been putting thought into how to really apologize for a week now. Because as much fun as it is talking to a wall, he needed Caleb as much as Caleb needs him in a fight. He thinks he has some ideas, some ideas he needs time to work on.
“Caleb-”
“If I have to do it, I'll do it again.” That's-
That's not what he was expecting to hear.
“You don't-” He stops. An effort to be more open-minded, more understanding, he doesn't say his first, his loudest impulse. “Are you safe? When you do things like that with strangers?”
“There are spells.” Caleb shifts over, slowly. “And most people can't survive fireball to their faces at point blank range. Are you worried?”
“Just confused, really.”
And yes, worried too.
Caleb turns back over, blankets tight against himself and Frumpkin curled at his feet.
Caduceus gets ready for bed himself, setting the lantern low and settling into the bed. Still a bit short for him, but it's comfortable. Comfortable enough.
“Astrid,” Caleb says. “And Eodwulf.”
His voice is quiet and strained.
“I'm sure they love you, Mr. Caleb,” Caduceus says like he's talking to a mourner.
Maybe he is.