An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/4 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Shaun Gilmore/Caleb Widogast, Past Astrid/Caleb/Eodwulf - Relationship Characters: Caleb Widogast, Shaun Gilmore
Additional Tags: Rated mature for Caleb's Backstory and his thoughts mostly, Caleb never meets the M9 AU, Self-Indulgent, Vague Nightmares, Spellcasting as Craft, POV Caleb Widogast, Caleb Widogast is a Mess, Fleeing to Emon, Haggling like your life depends on it, Passing mentions of prostitution I guess, Gift Giving, Confrontation, Trust Issues, Implied Past Abuse, Drunk Planning, Hint: It doesn't get far
Excerpt for Chapter 2:
Caleb was lost.
Not physically, he knew exactly where he was in relation to the port he had arrived at. No, he didn’t know what to do about Gilmore. He didn’t know what it would even mean to do something about Gilmore. Or the man he presumed was Gilmore.
He had given him four conditions. Well, three if he boiled them down. He had asked him to ensure his own safety. To demonstrate that he was able to. And to “come back tomorrow”.
That you come back tomorrow to see me.
That last part stressed him out the most. His mind was running in circles, coming up with all the things “seeing” him could escalate to. He jumped between scenarios his mentor had drilled into him to the point of fluency. And worse, after several months as a constantly starving fugitive, his imagination spun them into bone-shaking, ruthlessly chilling nightmares. So he clung to memories.
He remembered how the wooden counter had felt under his fingers as he had tested the components. He remembered the feeling of magic clawing under his skin with the unfinished spell, the way he was still raw inside. How the residual energy still clung to his bones in the space between marrow and flesh. The way the merchant’s pity had morphed into unguarded curiosity. His stomach dropped in a very unpleasant way.
That was the hope he held onto: that the man’s curiosity was focused on his skill, not his ability to hold spells past the point of pain.
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