Work Text:
Caleb waited until Veth was soundly asleep. It hadn't taken long. Still getting used to her new form, she'd managed to take a few heavy blows in the days battle before sinking two crossbow bolts through the eye socket of the direwolf that seemed intent on using her diminutive form as a chew toy. The clerics had mended her quickly, but he knew she was finding her new... old... form more of a learning curve than expected, and that was mentally and emotionally exhausting. Her new strengths and weaknesses surprised her every day.
He'd told her to take the bed in the cramped inn, that he needed to do some reading. He'd been watching her from behind his book until her breathing fell deep and even, and quietly closed the tome.
Slipping to their belongings, Caleb reached into Veth’s travel coat pocket, and drew out something small. Squirrelling it away in his pocket, he quickly and quietly exited the room.
The inn was quiet. One patron was snoring fitfully, a cleaning rag conscientiously tucked under his forehead by one of the staff, but it was otherwise deserted. No one saw him exit the roadside tavern and disappear into the forest behind.
He walked until he found a small clearing, under a large tree, gathering small items along the way. Sticks, stones, interesting flora and fauna. Emptying his pockets and drawing out his twine, he sat down and began work.
---
The sky was just beginning to lighten when he finished.
Reaching in his pocket, he removed the small item he had borrowed from Veth and lay it flat in his palm.
"So I know you are a busy man, but I would beg a moment of your time. I have tried to make it worth your while."
A laugh broke out above him.
"Indeed! Such effort. I can't wait for some wayward adventurers to find this!"
Lounging in the branches of the large tree, Artagan beamed.
"What will they do, do you think?” The fey asked, conspiratorially. “I don't know if I would prefer them to believe it a holy fertility site and hold orgies or run screaming to the village lawmakers and start hunting down the perverts who would do this." He clutched at his neck in feigned outrage, before casually reaching out, flicking one of the stick figure effigies hung by thread from the tree and sending it spinning. "You know, for the unsuspecting individual, this could be quite the distressing scene."
"I, ah, I thought you would appreciate a little spectacle."
In addition to the suspended stick figurines depicting as many crude acts as he could figure how to craft, he had also placed phallic stone arrangements, and a few yonic designs in flora.
"I'm afraid I am not so artistic as Ms Lavorre." Caleb added demurely.
"But what an eye for detail! I must tell her about the use of moss for pubic hair. Bravo."
It was at this point The Travellers cloak shifted, and with a start Caleb realised Frumpkin laying in the archfey’s lap. Artagans eyes dropped, rubbing his hand over the cat’s supplicant stomach.
"So clever, yes! Paying such close attention!" he cooed
Lifting a finger, Artagan punctuated the final word with a light touch to the cat’s nose, showering him in gold dust. The cat’s eyes became black saucers, and his body became even more liquid and writhing in the feys lap. Caleb became aware his fist had balled when the hoop on Veth’s traveller pendant dug into his palm.
"I am afraid I didn't invite you here just to see this display."
Artagan sighed, scooping Frumpkins limp body close to his own and jumping down from the tree.
"Of course not." His voice suddenly shifted, through a series of mimicries "Traveller, help me convince the town major that the lady of the manor wants him to dress up and act like a pig" "Traveller, collapse her skull" "Traveller, make snakes come out of her vagina"... Urgh, it's so boring.' he paused "Okay that last one was funny a few times. But then it's "Traveller, that's not enough snakes!" or "Oh Traveller why won't they stop," or "I didn't mean venemous ones! My wife... MY WIIIFE" Sob sob blah blah."
Caleb blinked.
"Well. I suppose that is where specificity would be a virtue."
Tilting his head, Artagan conceded. "Maybe so. So what, specifically, do you want from me?"
Steeling himself, Caleb pushed forwards.
"What do you know of the Cerberus Assembly?"
"Urgh. Academics. So stuffy. A dear acquaintance of mine once described them as "Those stuffy bastards who didn't raise a finger to help when Tal'Dorei was burning" who "deserved me turned loose on their continent" or something. Sitting in towers hording power and secrets, I believe"
"Yes. How would you like to see their towers fall and their lives works ripped from their hands?"
"Interesting. I do particularly enjoy the untouchable ones having an ungracious descent back into the gutter. And while it sounds fun, it also sounds more like a you problem than a me problem. Why would I get involved?"
"Because I have been reading."
Artagan snorted.
"Well, that is definitely boring and not a reason for me to interfere with powerful arcane practitioners."
"I have been reading" Caleb continued, volume increasing "That arch fey rarely have much interest in mortals. Our lives are fleeting. We cannot be much more companionship than a cherished pet, mourned but easily replaced."
Artagan glanced back at Frumpkin, in his arms. His hand stroked softly, slowly along his spine.
"True, you are so... fragile" his hand hovered over Frumpkins neck, tightening visibly, while he locked eyes with Caleb.
Caleb’s mouth went dry.
"Yes. Yes. But just like us and our creature companions sometimes there is a greater bond. Something beyond that of master and beast."
Caleb slowly, signposting his actions, held out his arms before clicking, drawing Frumpkin into his own grasp. Something within the pit of his stomach settled.
"Frumpkin is that for me. He is my friend. He is my ally. My protector, and my eyes. Even knowing mortal damage on this plane will not hurt him permanently, whenever he is hurt, I would gladly burn the offenders to ashes. It is not logical. It is not proportional. But he is mine, and I am his."
Carefully placing the relaxed cat on the ground, his voice dropped lower.
"Jester is yours. Anyone can see that. Her devotion, even in uncertainty. Her faith." He cleared his throat, continuing with more certainty "But you are also hers. I have seen you protect her. A girl who had never even left home has stared down two dragons. She has tricked a creature older, wilier and more dangerous than she or I will ever be, with your guidance.”
Artagan smiled again, but this time Caleb could swear it was tinged with… pride?
“Yes. My girl is a true seed of chaos. Laughing in the face of danger!” he declared, throwing his arms skyward in what appeared to be true gleeful celebration.
“Yes, but you must know, you must remember, she is mortal. Laughing in the face of danger does not mean she is not terrified. She is not invulnerable.”
Artagan’s eyes cut quickly towards Caleb, turning into slits. His lip curled, and suddenly… he was not there anymore.
Caleb felt a rush of cold, and noticed it was suddenly darker within the clearing. With a start, he realised the trees overhead were closing in, and they were… sharper. Thorny vines weaving together to enclose him. To trap him.
“Are you threatening her?”
The hot breath snarling in his ear made him leap away, but he was caught. Artagan had his elbow in a vice like grip, and something was trapping his foot. The vines were bursting from the soil, wrapping tightly enough to pierce the leather of his boots.
Caleb gasped. “Never. Never.”
He managed to turn into the feys grasp. Under the dark shadow of the cloak, the trademark smirk had turned feral, teeth sharp and barred.
“I would never, ever hurt her. Even if she decided to hurt me.” He resisted the urge to call fire, to burn through his restraints. “What I am… what I am meaning to say. I will protect her.”
The grip loosened and Caleb stumbled back.
“I will be there even when you cannot. I will bind myself to her. To… you.” He emphasized, holding up the symbol.
“I will ask nothing of you, I will never call upon you, bar this one favour. Help me take down the assembly. Help me burn their corrupt hearts and salt the ground their towers stood upon.”
Artagan remained still, silent. Caleb was suddenly, unsettlingly reminded of the time Frumpkin caught a mouse and pinned it in the corner of the room, waiting to bring down his sharp claws should it attempt to flee. He pressed on.
“I know she has told you of us, of me. I am skilled. Very skilled. I will never stop becoming better, becoming stronger. If she is your high priestess, I will be her honour guard. My life before hers. All of the skills I have honed, used to keep her from harm.”
He took a deep breath. It was time to share one of his secrets. The hope he had for all of his friends.
“I even have a spell now... one that can be used to change a physical form. If, when she is old and tired from adventuring, she wishes to be revitalised physically… I can do that.”
Artagan swept his hood back, staring directly… through Caleb. It was unsettling.
“I can protect her.” Wrapping both hands around the Traveller pendant, his hands clasp, pleading.
Artagan steps closer, crowding into Caleb’s personal space. Recoiling on instinct, he is jolted by contact with a hard surface. The tree. When had he been backed against the tree?
Bracketing him within his arms, the fey leaned forward, rubbing his cheek against Caleb’s and inhaling, before drawing back.
“You smell… sincere. Which usually is a turnoff for me, but in this instance, you have piqued my interest.”
Caleb released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
“A devotee who didn’t bother me…” Artagan mused, running his finger down Caleb’s coat lapel leisurely “That does sound interesting. Of course I would require a sign of your…” his leg slipped between Caleb’s, thigh sliding in intimate contact and completely pinning Caleb in place “…submission.”
Caleb felt heat flare across his cheeks, and something else, long ignored, long denied, stir in his gut.
Artagan dropped him, laughing merrily
“Oh dear boy, your face! What a wonderful shade!” crossing his arms across his stomach, he was the picture of a child, giggling gleefully and uncontrolled at a silly joke “But, honestly, honestly…” he added, making an effort to return to his composed stage “We will need to do something about this…” he waved his hand in Caleb’s general direction “repression. It is not very on brand for my followers.”
Caleb felt his mouth twist into a hard line
“And how will I protect Jester if I am… distracted?” he countered.
Artagan fell into a thoughtful expression, finger tapping his lips. “True, true.” Shrugging, he continued “I was thinking something a little more permanent…. Oh!” the smirk returned “I know! My dear Jester is so artistic, and she so loves binding you all to her. You return and ask her to give you my symbol as a tattoo. I will take completion of the tattoo to signify the signing of our deal.”
“Just your symbol?” Caleb hedged, warily “No other… specifics?”
“Oh, just location. Come here.”
Taking Caleb’s hand, he drew him further into the clearing, and began circling him ponderingly.
“Hmmm… the most appropriate spot… ah ha!”
Hand sliding around his waist from behind, it slipped along Caleb’s hip bone to the soft flesh just inside the V of his torso
“Here! This is one of her favourite places. You know, she regularly reads me stories that involve tongues tracing and… well, I wouldn’t want to scandalise you.”
Caleb damned his complexion as heat rose in his face. How was this making him flush worse than being physically pinned to a tree?
“Ohhhh” Artagan exclaimed, returning to front and peering at Caleb’s face with a lecherous grin. “I see. Well, maybe 2 birds with 1 stone, my repressed friend. Please do serve your priestess well.”
Caleb ground his teeth, knowing anything he said would give the fey more ammunition.
“So we have a deal?”
“I do believe so.”
“Thank you. Then I will retire and ask Jester to help me complete my acceptance tomorrow.”
“Wonderful.”
Scooping up his cat, Caleb, made to leave.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Caleb halted mid step. What had he forgotten? His mind raced over their interaction while turning to face the fey.
Artagan waved his hand at the clearing
“A signature? People must know who is responsible for this wonderful scene!”
“Ah. Of course.” Placing Frumpkin in the treeline, Caleb moved again to the centre of the clearing, rolling up his sleeves. “I know Jester has placed her own twist on your symbol to make it... phallic.”
Artagan’s responding laugh somehow put Caleb in mind of a 12-year-old boy.
“Yes, she is so creative.”
“Well, I have realised that if you shape the fold of the cloak and hood just so…”
Carefully, Caleb took the time to burn a large symbol of the traveller into the middle of the clearing that definitely looked like…
“A vagina!” Artagan exclaimed, giving a delighted round of applause. “I love it. So much more… resilient.”
Mouth twisting into a wry smile, Caleb bowed.
“An offering to our lord and saviour.”
“Wonderful. Long may they continue.”
Returning to collect Frumpkin, Caleb exited the woods. Despite having thought it over comprehensively before offering his bargain, he still reeled through the conversation as he returned to the inn and settled onto the floor beside Veth. Arch Fey were notoriously tricky.
“Long may they continue indeed.” He breathed, before closing his eyes, and drifting off to sleep.