Power of Words - Chapters 5
Molly is overwhelmed with how much has changed, including his body. Caleb helps him feel a bit more normal.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/31056542
It could have been minutes, or hours, that Molly sobbed into Caleb’s neck. He didn't have a grip on time, let alone his current reality, so he let himself cry until his voice was hoarse, and his cheeks tight with dried tears. He wasn't sure when he had sunk to the floor, but Caleb had gone with him, holding him close, cradling Molly in his arms as he sobbed his way to exhaustion.
It wasn't that Molly was sad or unhappy really, but he was experiencing a sort of onslaught of grief of his own death. Of all the adventures he missed, the moments he didn’t get to share. Complicating it was that he knew that his friends, people he had grown to love over an impossibly short time, now had images of him hurting them that he didn’t have. Why else had they been scared of him, wary of his return?
And then there was the issue of him. This body. The coat had helped ground him, but it only lasted a short while. Every reflection in the glass that he caught, every flinch when he approached one of the Nien too fast, every time he looked at his own hands and saw the missing rings and golden caps on his fingers … It reminded him of the fact that he had been lost, and someone else had been piloting this body.
The mixture of all the upsetting feelings, with the beauty of all the ways he had been remembered - preserved - created chaos of spilling out feelings that he couldn't help but let out in embarrassing sobs. The only thing that was coxing him back was Caleb’s hand, drawing circles on his back, humming some lullaby he faintly recognized.
There had been a time before, when he had come out empty and hollow from the grave he had been left in, that the only way Yasha had been able to calm him was to sing him a song meant for the Gods. A prayer pressed to melody. Caleb was humming it now, while rubbing his back. When he was able to steady his breathing enough, Molly managed to ask him about the song.
“How do - did Yasha give you the song?” His voice was still quiet, more of a whisper, but the ever preceptive Caleb still heard him.
“Yes, she shared it with me on a particularly hard night, seeing as we both can speak celestial.”
Molly had never thought to ask what language the song had been in, so many languages and things had been forign to him at the time. It didn't surprise him that Caleb had memorized it. He wanted to thank Caleb again, but it wouldn’t have conveyed how actually grateful he was. He stayed there for a few more moments, his cheek pressed to the man's chest, horn resting on his shoulder, and his tail wrapped tightly against his waist. It was only until he felt the ache of tiredness in his own bones, and remembered who he was holding on to, that he let go.
“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“It is alright Mollymauk, I only care that you are okay.”
Caleb didn't let Molly get very far in his self-conscious retreat, clasping him at the elbows and looking him firmly in the eyes. Molly wasn’t okay, but he also wasn’t not. He was caught in between glee at being alive again, and horror that someone else had been living for him in the meantime. And then there was that unspoken dread, the one that he was constantly trying not to think of, because what if Lucien ….
“It is alright to need time. I will do everything in my power to give you all the time you need to be okay.” Caleb’s words were like an incoming tide, slowly washing away at the edges of Molly’s worries.
“I am n- it’s just that…” He struggled find the words to try to express how he was feeling everything too much right now, and he really wanted to feel just like himself. Caleb stayed silent and just waited until Molly could compose himself to try again. “It’s a lot. The whole dying, being possessed by your former self - well a sad sack of a soul that was not me- and then living again to-” Molly gestered the gorgeous window and room that surrounded them. “-and still feel, I don't know, like I am not really here. Like I haven't earned the right to it.” Molly hadn’t really understood the weight of his emotions until he spoke aloud, and then he felt his eyes threatened to spill again. But of course, Caleb came to his rescue once more.
“Ah, I think I understand. I believe I can help, if that is alright?”
How Caleb could do anything more for him was beyond imaginable. He had already brought Molly back from his unconscious prison and a chance of life, given him a not only decadent room but one that represented his life, and most of all - Caleb had offered Molly an incredibly close embrace when he needed to cry out the most. Still, he chose to follow the human when they disentangled, and he had been led to the gorgeous red vanity he had admired before.
Caleb pulled out the overstuffed stool, and motioned for him to sit. He did so, admittedly a tad cautiously, since he didn't know what Caleb wanted from him. Nervous hands pulled out the top long drawer, but Molly couldnt take his eyes away from Caleb’s face, trying to see why the man was suddenly shy. He was used to Caleb being reserved, self-deprecating, humble to a fault, that was until he came back, and he found himself with a wizard that was more self assured and hopeful.
“My memory is not perfect, close, but - um - some things can be misremember, so if you would like any changes or if I got anything wrong …”
He looked down at the drawer as Caleb spoke. It was lined in a lavender velvet that almost perfectly matched his skin. Inside was every single piece of jewelry that he was currently missing, the outlandish bits of glitter and gold that Molly had used to set himself apart. From his earrings, the chains that had been in his horns, to the cuffs he had worn around his tail.
“I am not sure which set you would like. I tried to capture each I could remember.” Caleb was being far too modest. There laid perfect versions of every variation of his jewelry from when they had met in Trostenwald to when they left Hupperdook.
“The last ones.” His voice was still rough from crying, but Caleb ignored it and started to lift the various pieces from its place. Molly had wanted to say ‘Oh the ones that I was wearing when I died.’, but he didn't. He didn't want to taint why these were his favorite. How he had eavesdropped on Jester trying to convince Yasha to tell her which one he would like more, the horn cuff with matching jade studs, or the crescent at the end of a teardrop earring that had a chain that would connect at the top of his ear. While Yasha had tried to convince her money would be better spent elsewhere, Molly could remember Nott sneaking up and simply pocketing both sets. She later presented them to Molly in front of the other women. “That shop was horrible, nothing worth taking, but they wouldn’t leave … so here.” He knew she hadnt meant it, that she was actually offering friendship, not earrings. He took and cherished them all the same.
Caleb was gentle, fastening the earrings with care, being impossibly soft with his horns while he placed the jewelry. Molly didn't say a word, Caleb knew where every bit went. He hadn’t meant to screw his eyes shut, but it was the only way to prevent more tears, those of anxiety, from falling. It wasn't until he felt a thumb slowly pressing gentle circles at the base of his horns, that he was able to blink his eyes open again. Caleb was kneeling in front of where he sat, hands still massaging this temple.
“Would you like to look?” he asked. Molly nodded, though only after a moment. Caleb pulled out a hand mirror, as though he knew that he couldn't turn to look at himself in the large one hanging above the vanity quiet yet. He took the matching ornate mirror and looked at just his horns, then to his ears, and then to his face. His horns and ears were familiar, grounding him in the memories that he felt were just yesterday. They gave him considerable relief compared to the reflections he had caught earlier, that looked nothing like him, but that of Lucien.
It was when he got to his actual face, did he feel the weight of sorrow again. It was still him, of course, but his hair was long and the curls greasy were uncared for. His lips were wind chapped and cracking. The hallows of his cheeks were more pronounced. It was only then that Molly realized how much weight he had lost, his already slender frame now reduced to just what was necessary. It was obvious that Lucien had not cared for his body, not with good food or consideration for its frame.
Molly tried not to let the disappointment show, because the jewelry really had help, and he appreciated Caleb’s sweetness, but there was still a part of him that was missing, hollow. Try as he might, Caleb apparently had the gods on his side.
“Not enough, ja? That is alright, give me just another moment.”
Molly didn't know how this man knew what was going on in his head, especially when he had only spoken a half a dozen or so sentences since entering this magical room. All the same, Caleb rose from his knees and crossed the room where a thick silk rope hung, and pulled on it twice. He couldn't hear what the other man said, but it was brief, and then Caleb was back his side, opening drawers again.
“I will admit, I do not know your preferences, but these are the cosmetics that Jester prefered, I only altered them to what I thought you might have enjoyed.” Molly chose to ignore the past tense, especially when Caleb pulled out several different vials of hydrating oils, scented balms for blisters, and …. A beautiful array of gold tinted make-up.
“God’s, Caleb! How much did you spend on this?!” Molly couldn’t help admonish while admiring a glistening jar of lavender body oil.
“Nothing but my imagination.” Caleb supplied, as though it was the most natural answer in the world. Catching Molly’s confusion, he continued. “This is actually a demiplane, it only lasts for 24 hours, and you can not take out what you did not bring in other than what you consume.” Caleb looked apologetic, as though that wasn’t work that only Gods should be able to do. “So while you may wear anything you want while you are here, unfortunately if it is made of magic, it won't survive outside of the tower’s walls.” Molly didn’t care, it was grateful just the same for what Caleb was giving him. The wizard handed him a balm for his lips, and opened another drawer and pulled out a delicate-looking comb.
“There is a bath on the other side of the dresser, if you have the energy for that. I am sure Jester would be willing to cut your hair, if you would like. But how about I comb it out first, and you can decide if you want that later?” Caleb’s offer warmed him, so he nodded and let the man comb through the knots of his hair, while Molly took advantage of the balms and lotion. They worked in comfortable silence for several moments. Caleb was careful and calm, relaxing Molly enough that he felt is eyes fall closed again, but this time to just sit and feel the small touches of fingers on his scalp and running through his hair. It wasn’t until he felt a small tap, that he looked and saw a cat he’d never met, somehow holding a bowl of fruits and bread and a large glass of water.
“Ah yes. Thank you.” Caleb took the bowl and set it on the table next to Molly. “If you are hungry. But please, drink this.” The glass of water was pressed into his hands, and Molly readily gulped most of it down. “If you need anything, do not be afraid to ask. The cats will bring you what you need.” How that was possible, was beyond him. But he had also been bitten by a wessel that was also apparently a god, so anything could be possible then.
Molly took a few of the grapes, and let himself relax again as Caleb finished with his hair.
“I am done. Does that feel better?” Caleb asked, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to look again. He did anyways, in the larger mirror on the wall, and was pleasantly surprised. His skin was still a bit pale, but no longer ashy with lack of moisture. He did even mind the longer hair, now that Caleb had worked out the tangles, the longer curls falling past his shoulders. He wondered if Yasha would braid it around his horns. His lips even looked more like his, smoothed and shining from the balm. He pressed his fingers to them and hummed a please affirmative to Caleb.
“Good, would you like me to call fetch Yasha for you?”
Yes. He missed her terribly, it felt like it was just yesterday that he had been terrified about how she was because she had been taken from him by slavers. But he still wasn’t quite ready to confront that.
“In a bit, stay with me?” Molly couldn’t read Caleb’s expression, it was a mixture of surprise and warmth. He didn’t say anything, but followed him to sit on the edge of the ridiculous bed. Caleb seemed to be looking to Molly for clues of what to do, so Molly sat close and rested his cheek on the wizard's shoulder. When he didn't flinch, or stiffen like Molly would have expected, he took it as a sign that this was ok. His tail wrapped lazily around Caleb’s ankle, and he drew little patterns on Molly’s knee. They stayed like that for only gods know how long, in comfortable silence, letting the tiefling clear out his mind from all the clutter and noise the day brought. He was beginning to feel like he could maybe, possibly, start process the day’s emotions.
