Idk if youre still doing the fic giveaway event - but if you are could you do a sick/hurt comfort with essik and caleb? (also for the record I yelped when I saw you'd done. A pt2 to that reincarnation one) ❤️❤️❤️
uhhhh this one is, as the kids say, COMPLETELY self-indulgent
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When Essek pauses for a moment in his writing, Caleb can sense that something is wrong.
He lowers his quill and tilts his head just as Essek rises from the desk.
His long embroidered sleeve is pressed up against his mouth. Caleb notes the careful, blank lines of his expression, knows that something’s hidden, even if he can’t see what.
But before he can say anything, Essek grunts.
The inelegance of it all catches Caleb by surprise.
“Are you—”
“I am fine.” The answer is swift. “Just—ah…excuse me, a moment.”
His robes flutter out with an easy, sourceless, breeze. But as he hovers across the floor, it is unsteady. He leaves the library just as Caleb stands, the door behind him closing with a soft and frantic click.
There’s a moment, as Caleb waits to follow the sound of footsteps.
Then he smacks his forehead. He shoves his books aside.
The foyer of the Xhorhouse is empty, as expected. Caduceus and Jester are out grocery shopping, Fjord and Beau and Nott off looking for a blacksmith. The old miscellaneous house guests of the past have all moved on, and Frumpkin is currently out somewhere, roaming rooftops.
So it’s very obvious when a hacking cough cleaves through the silence.
It’s coming from the bathroom. Caleb scrambles toward the door—
“I’m—ah—I’m fine,” calls Essek’s voice, a little muffled. “It’s nothing to—ach—nothing to worry about.”
This is followed by another bout of coughing. Caleb’s arms cross. He raises his brow.
“Are you…sure?” when the noise stops, he calls back. “You sound…I can make you some tea, if that helps.”
There’s the brief rustle of robes, then Essek gives a sigh. “I…would appreciate that. Although I am not so sure tea would help.”
Caleb’s eyebrows rise higher. “Is that…should I be concerned?”
“What?” It sounds choked, then quickly, “Oh. Oh, no. Not at all, it is…not contagious.”
“Are you certain?”
A pause.
“Absolutely. Just a…side effect of my work. Dunamancy. It can be very draining.”
Caleb taps his foot.
“Really? Is that so?”
There’s another round of coughing, then he hears some more shuffles.
“You will understand later in your studies, I am sure. Sometimes…there are hazards to this training.”
Caleb slowly approaches the door.
“Can they be avoided?”
Essek barks a laugh. It is quickly stamped down by more coughing.
“If—ahem—if you are smart, then certainly. Unfortunately, I have continued to act the fool.”
Caleb comes a little closer. His footsteps echo on the smooth flagstones.
“Truly? And yet, here I believed that you were the most talented mage of your generation.”
The coughing seems to settle down, albeit slightly. There’s a murmur like Essek has fell to contemplation.
Then:
“Tell me, Caleb Widogast, have you ever had something you dearly want?”
Caleb has reached the door at this point. He stands before it, eyes drift across the wood.
“Er…” He blinks. “Well…who hasn’t?”
“Desperately want.” Essek’s voice is…this is strange. Caleb has never quite heard this tone before. “Something you want as if it is all that matters. So much so that its absence can…can even hurt.”
Caleb considers this.
“Ah. I…yes, I suppose.”
There’s a shuffle, like Essek has nodded.
Caleb scratches his head. “Is that how you feel about Dunamancy?”
There’s a long, waiting pause. Then Essek exhales.
“Y…yes. Yes. Dunamancy, and the…gifts, that it…brings.”
Caleb hums faintly. “That is understandable. Dangerous, though, I think, to chase something that could hurt you.”
This is followed by a silence, and a mumble he doesn’t catch.
Then Essek’s voice comes back, a little strained.
“But that is the problem, is it not? When you know you could be hurt, but staying away hurts even more.”
Caleb has never quite heard this tone before. Especially not coming from Essek, from the Shadowhand. This is something soft, and something breaking, and something fragile.
He has never wanted so badly to throw open a door.
But he doesn’t. He couldn’t do that to Essek.
Instead, he presses his weight against the wood. Leans into it, like in doing so, a part of him could cross.
“I…I have not been alive nearly as long as you,” he murmurs. “Nor am I so studied, or so skilled as you, my friend. But…if there is one thing I have learned, it is that magic, for all its wonders, is…not everything. There are…sometimes, there are more things to be discovered. Not that—not that I disregard your teachings,” he adds hastily, “no, they are a gift grander than I deserve. But…magic can be seductive. It can promise things that seem impossible. It can make you forget that for every spell, there is a cost.”
His gaze drifts down to his forearms, covered.
“I do not want that cost to be you, Essek. I would not wish to watch you lose yourself to the unattainable. In…in the travels I have gone on, through what I have seen, I think…it is important to appreciate what you can get. And to cherish what you already have.”
He taps the side of his head to the door. He closes his eyes.
“You are already so powerful. And, I would like to think, a good person. Good enough to teach a scoundrel from the Empire, anyway. I hope you do not think my words empty when I tell you…I believe that is enough.”
He turns slightly, and waits for the reply.
He can hear another rustle. Like a murmur, or a sigh.
And then, the doorknob turns. Caleb leaps back just as Essek re-emerges.
His expression is nothing he’s ever worn before. It is soft, and shaky, and something just short of fine.
Caleb doesn’t quite know what to say.
He doesn’t get a chance. Essek gives him a gentle nod.
“I would give anything to believe you,” he whispers. “But thank you, nonetheless.”
Caleb blinks.
He says: “Er…you are welcome?”
Essek chuckles. It turns into the barest cough, but so quick and fleeting that it doesn’t seem to matter.
For some reason, it matters to Caleb.
It continues to matter much later into the evening, after Essek leaves and the others come home. Now the sounds and smells of a kitchen at work fill the Xhorhouse with activity and life, and the sizzling, stewing, warm-promised taste of dinner on the way calls to everyone’s stomachs.
Midway through preparation, with Nott on hand and Jester out of her depth, Caduceus takes a step out for a moment, across the hall.
And then, he stops short of the open door. He crouches down. Nobody else sees this.
But he’s always been a perceptive fellow.
His fingers brush against something small and something soft. He straightens back up and holds it gently towards the light.
It’s a flower petal. A little rumpled, and vivid orange.
How strange, he thinks.
These don’t usually bloom in Xhorhas.
—
Ko-fi in bio✨ | Finished 5k fic prompts right here! 💜 Requests Are CLOSED!
Ok I just found this and your art is actually AMAZING! !!!! I found it through your ereri au for the professor layton (?) Thing and ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Your awesome.
54) You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?
Absolutely some elemental manipulation powers, either light manipulation or ice manipulation ^^
