#(though essek is sir not appearing in this ficlet)

[ariadne-mouse]

For a prompt from @lakrisrot

a tell-tale mark of happiness

(848 words, rated G, Shadowgast)

The sound of talk and laughter greeted Caleb from behind the door ahead, heralding the merry-making Nein within. It was the third such of these monthly get-togethers, and Caleb was very pleased with himself for starting the tradition. He was also pleased tonight in particular because he had arrived here by way of other welcome company — a certain Essek Thelyss, who had lingered in the foyer of Caleb’s new cottage when it was time to say farewell.

“Until we meet again, Caleb Widogast.  What is it you say?  Don’t be a stranger.”  A quirk of his lips — which were subtly painted today, a new and intriguing look for his friend. “I cannot promise the same, for I may be resorting to some disguises in the near future.  But…  I will return, if you will have me.”

“You need only send word ahead,” Caleb had replied. “I will be here.”

And with a flash of nightshade-colored spellwork, Essek had vanished, wearing a smile like the seal on a secret letter.

(Essek had also kissed him on the cheek, which thrilled him perhaps a disproportionate amount for such a small thing.)

(Still, it was the first time Essek had chosen to do so.)

(It had been soft)

(and nice) 

(and over much too quickly.)

With a creak of hinges, Caleb stepped into light and warmth. "This little room is so stuffy with all of you carrying on," he complained, and was immediately swept into a crushing hug by Jester.

"Cay-leb!" His back popped as Jester squeezed him and then set him on his feet, then held him at arm's length to look him over. Something in his expression must have given his joy away, because her jaw dropped and her grin grew sharp with mischief. "You seem very happy, Caleb.  Did something nice happen to you?  Something very nice?"  She waggled her eyebrows.

"Something nice happened to him," agreed Yasha, her chin on Beau’s shoulder where they were sprawled on the couch.  Yasha’s smiles were small, but precious, like the yellow button-flowers tucked into the edges of the Zemnian countryside, and it gladdened Caleb to see one now. “Or someone.”

"Yeah, definitely.  It's written all over his face," Beau drawled. An unopened bottle of Lionet wine sat on the floor nearby her.  For all that Caleb did his best to replicate good wines in the tower, she insisted on bringing a bottle of her own choice vintage each time.  (“Can’t show up empty-handed to a party,” she had grunted once. “S’rude.”)

"Written?" Fjord quirked his head to the side.  When Jester flounced back onto the bed next to him and leaned her head on his chest, he automatically began fiddling with curls of her hair.  "Would we say written?  More like… stamped.  Branded.  Emblazoned?"

Caleb could not help but smile back at them, his cheeks feeling warm. Was it so obvious? He rubbed the back of his neck. “You are all very astute.  I have just seen our friend Essek.”

"Well I'm happy for you Caleb," Veth announced, hands on her hips. Then, more critically, her eyes narrowed: "Was he any good?" 

Caleb coughed. "Please, Veth, it was only tea.”

"Yeah, Caleb," Kingsley grinned, long booted legs propped up against the wall. "Was he any good?" 

Caduceus, his long lines draped over an armchair, craned his neck up and squinted. "Can you really tell from—? Never mind, I don't want to know."

"We did not— that is not— we had tea. And worked on a spell for a short time." Caleb waited a beat, then could not help but add, slyly, “...Which he was very good at, of course.”

"Wizard sex," Kingsley shook his head. "Veth, you were right."

"I will cast the tower now,” Caleb said, face afire, feeling desperately fond of his friends. He needed to redirect them or he might combust.  "You are all clearly in need of a drink. I need to hear what you have been up to!"

Like this monthly reunion, his meetings with Essek were a new tradition, and Caleb was still finding his footing.  They were still finding their footing.  It was good.  Terrifying, and complicated, but good.  His embarrassment at being so transparent aside, he was touched by his friends’ notice and interest in his happiness — a feeling to stow away in his pocket like pinstriped candies in winter.

“Come in, come in,” he ushered them into the stained glass atrium a minute later.

The cats brought them all their favorite foods, and they drank Beau’s wine, and more than once someone commented again (always with that air of wickedness) at how happy and pleased Caleb looked.  He endured their teasing with a little chagrin and a great deal of love.

It was only at the end of the evening when they had all wound their way to bed, that Caleb happened to glance in the mirror before washing his face.  There, stark against his freckled cheekbone, was a lip print in dark plum.

He had been wearing Essek’s kiss all evening.

Caleb covered his face with his hands.

“Ah, shiesse.”

#shadowgast #(though essek is sir not appearing in this ficlet) #caleb widogast #tumblr snippets #ariadne writes cr #critical role #c2