Class Swap AU
(Yeah, this doesn’t really fit any of the prompts, but I wanted to do a class swap so I suppose it’s day 7 of @widofjordweek . Late, I know, but here’s the intro to what could be a longer fic. Featuring barbarian!Fjord and rogue!Caleb.)
People don’t usually think much of Fjord. He doesn’t look nearly as strong as he is, doesn’t act nearly as angry as he can be. He’s polite, mild-mannered- a half-orc of average build, working an average job on the docks.
He spends a lot of time listening and watching, laying low. He doesn’t want to be bothered and doesn’t want to lose control of himself- his abilities should not be exploited by people so naturally obnoxious that they think they can annoy him into a rage.
It’s this way of life that means he’s the first to notice the newcomer at the docks.
The stranger lurking around buildings in dark alleys is a small thing. Swamped in a dark, sweeping cloak, with the hood pulled over his head. Skinny, and pale, from what snatches of skin Fjord can see.
Fjord would peg him as a simple thief, but he never seems to stray too close to people. He doesn’t stick to one place either, flitting between buildings, so he’s not casing something. Maybe he’s following someone? Maybe he’s an assassin- though, that might be a little too exciting for a port town.
After a week of him lurking, and Fjord spotting him in new hiding spots, Fjord’s thin sense of self-restraint loses the battle against his curiosity. His shift ends and he loiters around the docks, waiting for the stranger to move from his sentry position, perched on a nearby rooftop.
It only takes a few minutes- Fjord glances up and finds the figure gone. There’s a shadow another alley over and Fjord follows it. He’s not as stealthy, but he’s in plain clothes and he has a good smile for anybody he passes- nobody looks at him twice.
He manages to duck into an alley and loop around, so he’s behind the cloaked figure, squatting next to a wall, pressed close to the stonework. Fjord grabs the back of the cloak and the collar of the shirt beneath and pulls, dragging them a good distance before they can even yelp.
“Hey,” he starts, shoving them up against the wall, “Who are you?”
The- he’s pretty sure it’s a man, is human. Small and pale, like he saw, with red hair peeking out of the hood as it slides back. A black mask is pulled up over his nose, which doesn’t cover brilliant blue eyes, wide and surprised.
“What’s it to you?”
Fjord shrugs, which makes the stranger’s face- the half he can see- scrunch, around a frown or snarl. “Don’t know yet. You’ve been stalking my dock, though.”
“You saw me?” He curses in a language Fjord doesn’t know- or, he assumes it’s curse, from the way he spits it.
“I don’t think anyone else did, if that makes you feel better.”
“It doesn’t.” He wipes a hand over his face, pulling the mask down with it to reveal a very exasperated frown. “It means they could’ve seen me.”
“They?” Fjord asks, followed by silence. He lets go but doesn’t step away, crowding him against the wall without restraining him. A new question, then, the first that comes to mind, “Are you an assassin?”
“No. I just- I’m tracking this-“ he waves his hands, vaguely, like he’s looking for a word, or irritated with Fjord’s ignorance.
His accent is pretty thick- maybe he should give the benefit of the doubt and assume there’s a language barrier.
“Organization? Cult? Secret government agents?”
He groans, putting his head in his hands for the count of ten, then raises it, reluctantly. “Do you know of the Cerberus Assembly?”
Cerberus? That sounds... somewhat familiar. “The fancy folks harassing magic people?”
People in uniforms have been congregating around the wizard tower for days now, trying to find a door to knock on. They’ve left notes and, on one memorable day, tried shouting. Fjord doesn’t know the wizard, obviously, but he respects the man’s patience- if it were him, he would’ve started cracking skulls some time ago.
“Right, that’s... mostly right. They’re corrupt, rotten, and I’m going to help fix things.”
“By assassinating them?”
“No, I’m not suicidal.” A glint in his eyes, narrowed to severe, says it’s not far out of the question, despite his denial. “I’m going to steal something very important from one of their leaders.”
It sounds, to Fjord, like he might as well just kill someone. Sure, he’s not an advocate for murder, but he’s pretty sure it’d honestly have less ramifications than stealing, in this case.
Nonetheless, he nods, following so far. This is the most interesting thing that’s happened to him in a long time. Working the docks is fine, but there’s a barely restrained energy, that can’t be released hauling ship parts.
“Do you have a team?”
“A team?”
“Yeah,” Fjord shifts, a little self conscious, “It sounds like this is pretty major. You’ll need backup, at least.”
He squints at Fjord skeptically. “Are you offering?”
He shouldn’t be. This is stupid, even for him, and he’s not exactly... good at precision. Not like stealthy, cloaked assassins. Still- bored, restless, impulsive.
“Sure. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
The thief’s mouth twists into a weird frown, confused and displeased at once. Fjord gets the impression that he might be backed into a corner- literally and figuratively- because he relents, after a moment. “Fine, just meet me here. Tomorrow, at noon.”
He slips out of the small gap Fjord left between himself and the wall, as if there was nothing in the way at all. Crouching- to jump up, Fjord thinks- and pulling up his mask, he faces the wall, and the window sill above them.
“Wait.” Fjord grabs his sleeve, stopping him. “Can I get your name, at least?”
There’s a pause long enough that Fjord thinks he’ll just escape again, apparently not heeded by Fjord’s clumsy attempts, but he sighs and faces Fjord. “Caleb Widogast.“
He doesn’t need to see his whole face or be an expert on body language to know that’s bullshit, but he doesn’t get a chance to ask. Caleb hops up and grabs the sill, hoisting himself up and onto the roof, disappearing over it.
He’s already gone, but Fjord calls out after him, to be polite, “I’m Fjord! It was great to meet you.”
He swears he hears a distant laugh.
