(no subject)

[iniquiticity]

Anonymous asked
Maybe number 4. from the promot list and Caduceus/Fjord? If you like the pairing ^^

Dum spiro, spero. While I breathe, I hope.



For a while it didn’t stop raining in the Oasis. It was just the two of them right now , the rest of the Nein still sleeping. In the Oasis it rained and rained and rained and rained, and it was still raining when Fjord woke up from a confusing dream about a jungle that no matter how far he walked, never ended.

When Fjord woke up from the jungle he walked to the mouth of the huge temple complex and saw Caduceus sitting in the rain, his legs crossed, lit only by the bits of moonlight that came through the trees and the soft pink glow of his staff, which rested across his lap. Oftentimes Fjord thought of Caduceus as strangely ethereal, which was one of the many things he adored about his mentor/friend/crush; he often felt like a lump, bouldering through life, when Caduceus floated, tender, hardly disturbing a sheath of grass. Even drenched to the core, his pink hair hanging heavily across his bare shoulders, he looked light. One day he’d get up the confidence to tell Caduceus.

“Hi,” Caduceus said, without looking over, and then he patted the spot next to him.

Fjord was drenched the moment he stepped outside. He sometimes slept in his armor, even though he never felt rested afterward, after his death on the Ball Eater before the war negotiations; this was not one of those times. His undershirt and breeches were immediately soaked through, and even in the jungle the rain was cold and he felt the shiver building already. Nonetheless, he sat next to Caduceus, who, of course, did not seem at all bothered. Fjord felt a stab of envy mixed with the warmth of his affection.

Caduceus turned his palm up and opened it, and Fjord put his hand there. Pink finger intertwined with his. The warmth bloomed up his arm like a flower and settled in his chest. With a thought the Star Razor was in his other hand, and he put it across his lap, like the staff.

“You think it’ll ever stop raining?” Fjord asked, softly, trying to settle his thoughts, trying not to shiver, trying not to seem as light as Caduceus always did. Trying to say: look, you know, I think you’re… amazing.

“It’ll still be beautiful, even if it doesn’t,” Caduceus said. He opened his eyes and turned his head and took Fjord in and Fjord squeezed the pink hand in his. Caduceus smiled at him and Fjord didn’t feel the rain at all. “But probably. Usually does.”

“Hope so,” Fjord said, which was not what he meant to say, which was: Can we always sit in the rain together? Or maybe just outside?

“Important, to hope,” Caduceus said, and Fjord nodded. His mouth felt dry, impossibly, even as the raindrops rolled into his mouth from his tusks. “You’re good at it.”

“Thanks,” Fjord said, wondering if the rain would dissolve him, at that moment, “Lots of things I can’t do anything about. But I can hope. Protect.”

Caduceus squeezed his hand again, then turned his head back forward and closed his eyes. Fjord closed his eyes and felt the soft fur of his fingers and was no longer uncomfortable.