Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Keg leaves.

Caleb thinks she apologizes, or tries to. There are raised voices; hers and Beaus. All he knows for certain is that when he starts cataloguing his surroundings again, Keg is no longer there.

He should have left. He should have saved himself from this. Compounding losses are not conducive to his goals. He should not care enough about these people he has known for only a month to be so hurt about their deaths.

But Mollymauk Tealeaf lies lifeless on the ground, yards away, the slow bleeding of his body turning the ostentatious rainbow of his attire to dull blacks and browns.

His chest aches, as though filled with smoke, choking him.

Maybe if he left they would have been less stupid. They would not have tried to take on seven with four, that would be ridiculous.

Taking on seven with five was ridiculous. It did not stop them.

They were just a bunch of assholes. This was inevitable. He should have foreseen it.

“-we go? There’s a- there’s a time limit probably, can’t leave him too long, he- we have to be fast. Maybe the firbolg lady, what’s-her-name, she could do something?”

Beau is rambling. Has been, for a while, since Keg left. He had not been paying attention.

“She can’t,” Nott answers. Her voice is gentle, placating, but Caleb hears an edge of desperation in it. “We asked about the horses, and she couldn’t do that. She doesn’t have powers like that.”

“Molly isn’t a horse. There are- there are resurrection spells, I read about shit like that. Jester talked about it, they probably don’t work on animals, that’s why-“

“Beau, he’s gone. Sometimes people die, and they don’t come back-“

“Shut up, okay?! You want to just leave him here? The fuck we’re supposed to do with only three of us? There’s magic-“ She cuts herself off, then gestures violently in Caleb’s direction. “Maybe Caleb’s got some, magic shit or something?”

Caleb looks at her, wide eyed and angry and lost, and is struck by how young Beau looks. She must be barely twenty.

“I… do not have ‘magic shit’ that will fix this, no,” Caleb says quietly.

Beau drops her hands, dejected.

“What should we do, Caleb?” Nott asks.

They are both staring at him now, looking to him for guidance. Deferring to the leadership he did not want.

He should not even be here.

He thinks quietly for a moment. Calls Frumpkin, orders him to land on Beau’s shoulder. Beau scratches absentmindedly at the owl while Caleb contemplates, rubbing his face for the stimulation.

Eventually, he speaks.

“We are very beat up and we are very out in the open here. We cannot go forward to the Shady Creek, because we will encounter the Iron Shepherds there and they have promised to murder us if we are seen,” Caleb explains, as calmly as he can manage. “We have to turn back. We travel back for a few hours, make camp, and then we can rest and discuss options.”

“That sounds like a good plan, Caleb.” Nott reassures. Herself or him, he does not know.

Beau is silent, a hand buried in Frumpkin’s feathers.

“Ah,” Caleb starts. “Let us get the tapestry, and help me… help me move him."

Beau and Caleb lay Molly’s body on his elaborate tapestry, wrapping him in it. Caleb immediately feels twinge of regret at this decision, watching some of the blood start to soak into the embroidered cloth. Another piece of Mollymauk, ruined by his own blood. 

He reminds himself that this is much more practical than carrying him around as is, and helps lift the tiefling’s corpse onto a horse. Molly is completely covered in his bundle, save a decorated tail hanging limply out of one side.

Keg left without a horse (Caleb does not know why, and he does not care), leaving them with three. Caleb and Beau each take one, while Nott rides with Molly secured to the back of hers. 

They ride silently, at a much slower pace than before. Caleb’s body feels cold as he rides, the hair on his neck standing on end, prickling sensations like ice on his back, his chest, his waist. He must push forward. There is no time. 

After two hours of travel, the cold abruptly leaves. Caleb is hit with an acute sense of panic in its absence, hysteria clawing at the back of his throat. He chokes it down, muttering to himself that it is alright, it is alright, it is alright, it is alright… and the cold returns, icier than before. The numbness is comforting, and he embraces it. He concludes it must be shock, but it is preferable to the creeping panic attack he managed to avoid. 

They continue for another hour before they retire, too exhausted to continue. The cold leaves when they settle, but the panic thankfully does not take its place.

They do not bother with tents. Caleb starts a fire with wood Beau gathers, and Nott rolls out the bedrolls. They place Molly on one. Maybe they can even pretend he is just asleep. 

Nott passes her flask around and everyone takes a healthy swig. When it returns to her, she chugs much more than a healthy swig, then looks to both of her companions.

“So,” she starts, slurring, “planning. Gotta plan. What’s next, what do we do?”

“Fuck this,” Beau supplies unhelpfully.

“Fuck you!” Nott replies shrilly.

“We should have gotten Jester, she could have done something! Why the fuck did we just leave?”

“I did not hear you offering any objections,” Caleb snaps. “We do not know if she was even in those carts, and we could not take on the Shepherd assholes anyway.”

Beau stands up, hands coiling to fists.

“I could have killed that fucker! I could have knocked him on his ass, I could have-“

“You wanted to,” Caleb glares. “We could do nothing. We had bad information. We were outnumbered and far outmatched. Our friends are either dead or they are not. If they are dead we cannot help them now, and if they are not we still cannot help them now. We had to help ourselves.”

Caleb is not sure how he is spewing rational thought despite shaking with anger, but he supposes that is his role now. Fjord is not here.

“So what? We just give up on them? Go on our own, fuck the Mighty Nein, we’ll just be the Mighty Dree?”

“Drei,” Caleb corrects thoughtlessly.

“Whatever the fuck!” Beau snaps, “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but we can’t do the shit we’ve been paid for with only three of us. We apparently can’t even go to the damn town we have to go to-“

“Ja, it would not be smart-“ 

“Shut up, I’m fucking talking!” Beau scoffs. “I lost my train of thought. Who put you in charge anyway?”

“Me,” Nott pipes up.

Beau whirls on her.

“Yeah? You think he’s so fucking perfect don’t you? And I’m some fuckup kid who doesn’t know what I’m doing?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Nott agrees.

Caleb does not agree, and knows that was the very wrong thing for her to say.

“Well fuck you! You don’t need me! You-“ Beau flails in Caleb’s direction. “You’re obviously only trying to be friends with me because I’ve got dirt on you! I don’t give a shit, go off and be your dynamic duo of merry psycho murderers without me, I don’t care!”

“Beau-re-gard.” Caleb scolds as she storms off.

“You sound like my fucking father!” She calls back, not stopping.

She disappears into the brush. 

It is quiet, for a while. 

This was a mistake.

But Caleb does not have to leave if everyone else leaves him.

It is what he deserves.

“You should go, too, Nott,” Caleb whispers. “I cannot do anything for you. I cannot help you. I am a useless garbage person.”

Nott looks at him for a long time, not saying anything. Finally, she lets out a large sigh.

“I know you don’t know how good you are. How intelligent, and powerful- don’t argue with me!” She cuts him off when he opens his mouth to object. “You have incredible potential and I want to see you grow.”

Caleb scoffs, burying his head in his hands. He should have never left the asylum. He suffered there, but he deserved it. He could not hurt people there, locked away. He could not fool people into caring about him.

“Also… I don’t think anyone else would be okay hanging around a goblin. So it’s not just that I like you,” Nott mused, a little too honestly. “You’re kind of one of the only people who wouldn’t just kill me, for being a goblin. Everyone else who I know wouldn’t, well, they’re kind of kidnapped or dead or pissed off.”

“Nott…”

“Should I stop? I should stop, I’m not helping anymore am I? I should stop.”

“Ja, please, stop. I do not want to talk anymore right now.”

Beau comes back an hour later. Her knuckles are bloodied, and there’s kohl smeared in several places across her face. She wipes snot from her nose with the back of a fist.

“I… punched some trees.” She explains.

When no one responds, she drops down to sit in front of the fire.

What a crew they were. 

Three assholes, beaten and bruised, staring at a flickering fire. Missing half of their group with a corpse laid out nearby. All angry at each other. Too stubborn to be the first to break the silence

Caleb had a plan. He was not sure if it was worth vocalizing. It was not like anyone actually wanted to hear it, but he knew that they had to do something. They should return to Hupperdook, regroup and restock. They could search for a cleric there. If they did not find one willing to help, they could return to Zadash. It would be unpleasant, but they should inform the Gentleman of the situation anyway, convince him that they could do him a greater favor with more time… and there would certainly be clerics for hire there, if they get there in time…

Caleb is disrupted from his thoughts by the rustling of a small bag. He looks up and sees Beau with a handful of brown powder. Skein. 

 “Ah, I do not think-“ Caleb is confronted with an intense glare before he finishes, and wisely shuts up, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. 

Beau scowls, downing the crushed mushrooms and leaning back against a tree.

Caleb leaves her be, content to stare back into the fire.

Until Beau lets out an undignified shout, kicking out into the air in front of her. Caleb and Nott startle, looking to her with abrupt attention.

“What the fuck- how the fuck- Ugh!” Beau angrily grabs a rock from behind her and throws it in the same direction she kicked.

“Uh, Beau, are you okay-“ Nott starts, but Beau doesn’t hear.

“Are you laughing? Is this- is this funny to you, you asshole?” She’s spluttering to no one. “Is this some kind of joke? I’ll kill you myself!”

And Beau launches herself at nothing, tumbling almost comically as she tackles thin air. Rolling onto her ass, she lets out an angry snarl.

“Beau, what is happing.” Caleb asks flatly, too confused and drained to emote.

Her focus snaps to him, then back to nothing, then back to Caleb. He watches something unknown click in her brain, and she strides over to him while rummaging in her robes. She grabs his wrist and pulls one of his hands open, and dumps foul smelling brown powder into it.

“Eat it,” She commands, starting to force Caleb’s hand towards his mouth.

“Beauregard, I do not want- this is not-“

“Shhhh, just, trust me okay?” She insists, pushing with less force but not letting up. “I’m sorry I blew up or whatever, but you need to take this, just trust me. Shit’s weird and I need you to see it.”

Caleb stares at her and wonders how he got involved with such crazy people, and why he is actually considering listening to this particular crazy person. But he is tired, and allows Beau to guide the drug to his mouth.

It is not long that he feels the effects of the skein. First, he feels all of his muscles coil and tense, and he fights it with renewed panic. He manages to get it to subside, and focuses on the other sensations. He’s lightheaded, his mouth is dry. His eyesight is slightly distorted, like looking through thick glass, and he starts to notice organic shapes float about vision. He looks around in curiosity, cataloguing strange creatures of various shapes and sizes, before Beau roughly grabs his face and redirects his wandering eyes to the point she is most interested in.

Sitting there, smiling gleefully and waving with all of his fingers, is one whole Mollymauk Tealeaf.

Chapter Text

One whole Mollymauk Tealeaf is waving at Caleb from across the fire. Mollymauk Tealeaf, who’s cold, dead body Caleb had wrapped in a funeral shroud of silver embroidery earlier today.

“Noooott,” Caleb calls, not breaking eye contact with the tiefling. “Can you check on Mollymauk please?”

“Why? What’s going on? What are you seeing?” Nott hops next to Caleb, clawing his shoulder and squinting in the direction both humans were staring. 

“Nott. Nott, the body,” Caleb insists. “Please.” 

“Alright, alright!”

He hears shuffling as she skitters over to where they left Molly, and more when she lifts the blankets and tapestry.

“Yep, still like, super dead!” She calls back. 

“Yeah, I imagine it would be,” the Mollymauk across the fire says. 

His voice sounds the same.

“Then what the fuck are you?” Beau asks. “Some sort of demon? A shapeshifter? I wasn’t kidding, I’ll kick your ass.”

The entity that looks like Mollymauk snickers.

“I have no doubt! If you could, you would. But as your hilarious fumble proved, you can’t touch me,” he’s still smiling. “And to answer your question, I don’t fucking know! Ha!”

Caleb and Beau stare at him.

“You don’t know?” Beau asks incredulously.

“Nope!” he chirps.

“Who are you talking to?!” Nott yells, looking around frantically.

The humans watch as the Molly creature grins and stalks towards her, slowly sneaking up behind her before dropping his hands on her shoulders.

“C-cold! Cold!” Nott shrieks, clawing at the air around her.

Beau silently points at the tiefling specter.

Nott focuses on that direction and hisses at Mollymauk’s relative proximity. Molly growls back, but it sounds more like a cat’s purr than a snarl.

“Can we, uh, focus back here, please,” Caleb interrupts. “Nott we are speaking to… Mollymauk?”

“What!?”

“No, no, we don’t know that,” Beau interjects. “It’s something, it looks like him, but-“

“I am definitely Mollymauk Tealeaf,” Molly pipes up.”-of the Mighty Nien, formerly of the Fletching and Moondrop Traveling Carnival of Curiosities-”

“Yeah, that sounds like something that is definitely not Molly would say, though,” Beau challenges. “Say something only the real Molly would say. 

“Go fuck yourself, Beau~!” he singsongs. 

“Yeah, yep that’s him.” Beau concedes, nodding.

“No, no, that is not good enough for me,” Caleb says, leaning forward. “Mister Mollymauk?”

“Mister Caleb.” Molly acknowledges.

That did earn him points in believability. Still. 

“I am going to ask you a few questions. To make sure that you are, our Mollymauk.”

“Ask away!”

Caleb had to be careful about this. He was not in the mood to deal with some supernatural being playing tricks. And more practically, their party simply could not fight again today.

Best to start easy, simple.

“Who are the other members of the Mighty Nien?”

“Yasha, the charmer,” Maybe-Molly counts on his fingers. “Jester, Fjord. That’s it, really, unless you want to count the little bird girl, what’s-her-name, we managed not to kill. And Frumpkin! Of course.”

On the mention of his name, Caleb snaps and calls his familiar to the material plane. The owl grips his shoulder, and he orders him to look for Molly. He focuses on the entity immediately, seemingly capable of seeing him. 

“How did we all meet?” Caleb questions further. 

“In a tavern,” Molly responds. “With Yasha. You all looked very interesting and very bored, so I invited you all to the carnival. And then things went to shit!”

 So far, “Molly” was passing. But Caleb was asking questions that were too easy. He had to be more specific.

“Name the strange object I am carrying in the haversack.” Caleb orders.

“Oh, I don’t know what it’s called, it’s a, a do-hec-a-hedren? It’s black, creepy, gives luck when you stare into it-“

“Close enough,” Caleb allows.

Caleb is fairly certain this is Molly, somehow. But he has to be sure. He has to be clever to be sure they are not being fucked with.

“Mollymauk,” Caleb starts slowly, “what happened to my parents?”

Beau and Nott’s eyes snap to Caleb.

Mollymauk had seemed amused by the interrogation up until this point. His face drops, eyes widening with panic. He falters.

“I, I don’t- you never- I didn’t ask and you didn’t-“ Molly huffs a laugh before plastering a smile on his face again. “You told me you believed in new beginnings. You told me- I-“

“That is enough, Mollymauk Tealeaf,” Caleb interrupts. “It was a trick question. I am sure now that you are you.”

Mollymauk sighs.

“Well, that wasn’t very nice.” He says.

“I am sorry,” Caleb apologizes. “It has been a long day.”

“What’s happening now? Is it really him? Why can’t I hear him?” Nott is asking.

“Yeah, now we know you’re you, but we don’t know how you’re you,” Beau brings up, ignoring her.

“I don’t either,” Molly shrugs. “All I know is that there’s a body that looks like me over there, but I’m over here.”

Caleb looks over to the bundle on the edge of the campsite. The face of the corpse is visible now, Nott having pulled back the fabric covering it. Its lavender skin is ashy, eyes sunken and dark, lips and chin covered in dried blood, hair limp. Utterly still. He feels his gorge rise and quickly returns his attention to the more animated tiefling in front of him. 

“Also, until you decided to have a little fun, Caleb was the only one who could see me.”

Caleb’s brow furrows and he shoots Molly a look.

“I did not see you until I ingested the mushroom things,” Caleb tells him. “I am not sure what you are talking about.”

“No, no,” Molly corrects him. “You very clearly- I rode with you. You let me ride with you, and after a while I saw- I saw the body and I started to freak out a little bit, and you told me- you told me it was alright-“

The cold he felt was Molly, clinging to him on the horse. Nott felt the cold too, when Molly touched her. Molly has died but another Molly stands here, only visible while high on a crushed mushroom that allows the user to see spirits. The cold, the corpse, the drug, Molly in front of him… 

“Mollymauk,” Caleb says gently. “You are a ghost.”

Chapter Text

“Mollymauk, you are a ghost.”

Fear crosses Molly’s face for a brief moment before it’s replaced with a grin once again.

“Ha! What do you know, I think you’re right!”

Molly must have known. He saw his own body hanging off of Nott’s horse. He panicked when he did so. He must have been aware of the possibility, given the strange circumstances of the past few hours. It was not a difficult conclusion to consider. He must have realized and simply blocked it out. 

“What a fun and interesting new experience-“

“Molly-“ Caleb tries.

“We can work with this, I can haunt people, it will be hilarious-“

“Mollymauk-“

“A ghost! A spirit, it’s funny, I could sense ghosts and now-”

“Mollymauk, please take a deep breath-“

“I can’t, I’m dead!” Molly’s pitch is bordering on hysteria, now laughing a little too hard.

“Again, what the fuck.” Beau says, with feeling.

“Yeah, what the fuck! Is happening! A ghost?” Nott takes another swig from her flask. “He’s a ghost? You’re seeing dead people?”

“Will everyone, please-“

“Of course he’d be some freaky asshole, even in death-“

Laughter. Too loud.

“I need! An explanation! Please!”

“What more do you want, he’s a fucking ghost-“

Hysteric giggling.

“You are all too loud, please-“

“Why can’t I see anything? Are you sure you’re not just losing your fucking minds-“

“It’s the drug, it fucking, lets you-“ 

“You’re hallucinating, obviously-“

Frumpkin lets out a terrifying screech that causes everyone present to flinch and abruptly quiet. The sound, let off in Caleb’s ear, definitely hurt him more than anyone else. Still, he scratches the feathers under Frumpkin’s beak in thanks.

“Danke,” Caleb starts. “Now. Nott, yes, Mollymauk is a ghost. We may be, ah, high but Beauregard and I are seeing the same thing and the skein does have magical effects, so.”

“If you say so, Caleb, I trust you,” Nott replies.

Beau rolls her eyes.

“And, Mollymauk,” Caleb continues. “I am sure this is hard for you, but we are all glad you are here, even in this way, I think.”

“Dank-ey,” Molly says.

“Bitte schön.” Molly’s atrocious accent implies that he will not understand Caleb’s Zemnian response, but it is slightly adorable that he tried and he is not sure how to respond otherwise.

“And I do think, that maybe this is a good thing, in our goal to revive you,” Caleb finishes.

Molly scoffs 

“Well, yeah, actually,” Beau says. “Pretty sure that bringing the soul back is part of most resurrection spells, and that might be the hard part, but you’re here so… maybe it’ll be easier?”

Caleb allows himself to take a better look at Molly. On closer examination, there is something just a bit off about his look. He is draped in his coat, adorned in his jewelry, covered in ink and scars and as expressive as usual. The variety of color is still there, but paler, the vibrancy muted. Pastel.

He is still pretty, Caleb thinks.

He had found himself complementing the tiefling more in the recent days. His motives were not exactly pure, when he decided he would start allowing himself to do so. Mollymauk cares about his presentation, and Caleb figured drawing positive attention to this would help earn points with his ally.

However, in this moment, Caleb realizes he was being honest.

Which is a poor decision, really. The man is quite literally a ghost.

“Don’t get too attached to things,” Mollymauk’s own voice rings in his memory.

“Copper for your thoughts, Mister Caleb?” Mollymauk’s voice rings in the present.

The wizard snaps out of his musing to see three pairs of eyes looking to him. Embarrassed, he attempts to quickly re-process all relevant information on their current situation. Caleb ends up awkwardly staring back for longer than is comfortable, his thoughts more sluggish than he is used to. 

“I was just thinking,” Caleb manages. “Perhaps, we do not need a spell that powerful? If Mollymauk is with us, perhaps he could simply… return to his body? I am not very familiar with divine magic, but… A healing spell knits a person back together, while a resurrection spell does the same, in addition to returning them to life, ja? Beauregard was having the right idea; the difference between the magic, I think, is only that the person is dead. To be dead, in this case, would to be without a soul, or spirit, or whatever you would prefer to call your, ah, living essence.”

“So we could just, heal his body with a potion or something and shove him back in?” Beau glances back and forth between Molly the body and Molly the ghost.

“The shoving isn’t necessary, I think. Or possible! I will go willingly if anyone but Beau asks.” 

“Wha- hey! I cried over you, man!”

Molly’s brow raises and his smile widens, turning toothy and smug.

“I mean- don’t be an asshole about it, you’re not special,” Beau protests. “I just, it’s not like I’ve seen a lot of people I give a shit about die before, don’t-“

Molly flings his arms around Beau’s shoulders, cackling.

“Holy shit, that’s weird, you’re just cold, you’re not solid you’re just freezing-“

“You loooooove me,” he croons in her ear. “I was only gone for a few hours but you missed meeeeeee-“ 

Caleb turns away from the spectacle and looks over to Nott. She’s sitting on the ground, holding her flask and taking sips of it periodically while watching Beau attempt squirm away from nothing. She looks back to Caleb.

“I’m too fucking drunk to deal with this,” Nott says, dejectedly. “You kids have fun, I’ll just be… over here.”

“We may be trying something… strange, in a few minutes.” Caleb warns. 

Nott just stares at him, taking a drink.

“Okay,” he says. “You do… your thing.”

Nott nods, and goes back to staring at Beau flailing.

Caleb clears his throat, loudly.

Tiefling and human turn to look at him.

“Mollymauk, are you ready to come back to life?"

 “We should try the mixture our firbolg friend gave us first. It seems like it could work as a balm.”

Caleb suggests this while forcing himself to look at the corpse before him. They have uncovered Molly’s body completely, and he can see his wounds in terrible detail. Two gaping wounds left by Lorenzo’s blade, flesh torn raggedly open, dark blood splattered and dried all over his chest, his stomach, his throat and face. Clothing once soaked, now damp and stiffening. Still. Too still. Unmoving, gone-

A chill runs through his back, then stays there.

He turns and sees Mollymauk. Not gone. Staring down at the body, not looking at Caleb, but resting a hand gently on the small of his back. There is no pressure, but the cold is comforting on its own.

Beau pulls out a small bag, and takes a handful of a moss-like substance out of it. She crouches next to Molly’s body. 

“So, I just, like-“ and she smears it on the edge of one of the wounds. 

They wait. Nothing happens.

“That body is not getting any less shredded, so I’d say that wasn’t working.” Molly jokes.

“Maybe it’s bullshit? We don’t know what she made it with.”

“Maybe healing magic simply does not work on the dead,” Caleb sighs. “I was afraid of this. We may have to try the more unpleasant option.”

“Yeah?” Beau turns to look at him. 

Molly does the same. 

“Mollymauk may have to be within the body for any of our healing materials to be of any use, so that it is technically alive.” Caleb looks to Mollymauk, seriously. “But your body is clearly not livable, at this current time. You will have to go into your dead body, and survive long enough for us to administer one of our potions.”

“That does sound like the unpleasant option.” Molly frowns.

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of our only option, right now,” Beau reminds him.

Molly shrugs, then leaves Caleb, striding forward towards his corpse.

“Wish me luck!”

Molly enters his own body.

 The pain is unbearable.

His nerves are on fire, and his attempts to writhe and curl into himself for relief are met with cold paralysis. He can feel every cord and muscle pull desperately against its own necrosis. His lungs burn because there is a gaping hole in one of them and his ribcage cannot expand to use them. He hears his heart thump exactly once in his ears before failing to pump coagulated blood through ruined veins.

He dies, again, and falls into darkness.

Drifting. Being pulled in an unknown direction.

“What are you doing here?”

He hears his own voice, but the intonation is different, the accent. It’s wrong. All wrong.

He looks around, flailing limbless in the darkness, searching for anything, anything.

“You can not be here, you have not yet done as we agreed.”

He finds the source, focuses on it. Moves towards it, tries to look, to see.

He sees.

He sees his own face.

But it’s wrong. 

His curled horns are undecorated, his hair shaved close to his head. His pointed ears are pierced but only with two boring, black matching studs. He sees no inked feathers, only a single, bright red eye that stares up at him from his throat.

But the real eyes are the most wrong.

Two of them, white sclera, golden irises. No red.

He stares into the ethereal mirror, horrified.

And then the image speaks.

“My lord?”

Caleb watches Mollymauk’s ghost practically launch himself out of his body, stumbling forward and gasping for air he does not currently need to breathe. This, after watching the corpse convulse violently for a few seconds before falling rigid on the tapestry it was laid on.

“Hey!” Beau quickly pulls back the potion she was starting to force into Molly’s mouth and falls back.

“Mollymauk!” Caleb starts towards him, arms out like he could actually touch him. “What happened?”

“I’m fine! Totally alright, right as rain,” the ghost reassures unconvincingly. “It’s just, I’m very dead, I am. I am! It could not hold me anymore.”

Molly glances back, and his eyes lock into a stare.

Caleb follows his gaze to the body. He goes to examine it more closely.

The corpse, limp before, is now rigid, every muscle taut. The arms are slightly raised at the elbow, fingers curled into claws, back slightly arched. The lips are curled back into a fanged grimace, and the eyes are wide open. Oddly gold, somehow. It is a terrifying sight to behold.

The wizard moves to deliberately block the body from Molly’s line of sight. Steeling himself, he gently pushes the arms down as much as he can. He attempts to pull the lips closed with little success, but does managed to roll the eyelids back down. When he finishes making the corpse look less like an arcane horror, he pulls the tapestry and blankets back over it, covering it completely.

“So, now what.” Beau breaks the silence.

“We will need a real resurrection spell, it seems,” Caleb says. “I think we will be assured of its success, as you said, but we still need to find a cleric and the materials to do so… I am sorry our plan did not work, Mollymauk.”

“It’s fine!” Mollymauk replies. “I’ll try anything once.”

“Are you sure, man? You looked pretty traumatized.” Beau watches him carefully.

Molly laughs.

“Of course I’m fine! It was just, slightly very painful, nothing I can’t handle.”

She looks like she doesn’t quite believe him, but lets it go.

“We do have another problem though,” Beau starts. “After this shit wears off, I don’t have any more skein. We won’t be able to see or hear you after this. We’ll have no way to keep track of you to make sure you don’t, I don’t know, get snatched or pass on or someshit.”

Fear passes across Molly’s face again. Caleb does not like how often that has happened today.

“I have an idea, about that,” Caleb says quickly. “Mollymauk, do you think you could… possess a living body, with no trouble?”

“I guess I could,” he muses. “But I doubt anyone would like sharing with the ghost of a stranger very much.”

“That is my thought, that perhaps you could share with one of us. For the time being. Just to make sure you are safe and around.”

“Oh, hell no,” Beau interrupts. “I am not letting this asshole ride along in my own damn body.”

“Oh, I’m not interested,” Molly chirps despite himself. “But don’t worry Beau, I’m sure you’ll find someone who wants your body someday!”

“Fuck you, Molly.”

It is like dealing with bickering children, Caleb thinks.

At least they are here to bicker.

“Well, Nott does not really know what is going on, and it was my idea, so it is probably fair to offer myself to you.”

Molly looks at him, and he can see a glint in his eyes like he wants to make a dirty joke, but he must suppress it, because he merely asks Caleb if he is sure.

“I am sure,” he says. “It may be weird, but I think we will all feel better knowing that you are accounted for, somehow.”

“Alright. Alright,” Molly nods. “Are we doing this now?”

“I don’t see why not. Nott!” Caleb calls. “I am letting Mollymauk into me!”

Molly snickers, Beau snorts, and Caleb flushes slightly at his poor phrasing.

“I don’t know what the fuck that means, but okay!” Nott calls back. “Molly if you hurt my boy I will shit on your corpse and eat your liver!”

“That’s disgusting! I’ll take good care of him!” Molly sings back.

“She can’t hear you,” Beau reminds him.

“Just come here,” Caleb’s ears burn and he holds out his hands.

Molly steps forward, resting his hands on Caleb’s, chilling his fingertips. He looks up, locking eyes with him. Caleb nods resolutely. Molly nods back, then steps forward again, through Caleb.

Caleb is briefly overwhelmed with cold, he is freezing- and the feeling quickly settles into something more comfortable, like a crisp autumn day. His skin itches faintly, like there is another layer of skin, another person underneath. He feels a tugging in the back of his head, like when he forgets something important and he knows he needs it, but cannot pull it free from his mind.

He also feels things, distant and detached but somehow close. Confusion, relief. Comfort.

“Mollymauk?” He says aloud.

“Nice place you’ve got here!” He hears him answer.

Fear, his own, spikes through him. He did not think this through.

“Hey, hey,” Molly soothes, radiating placation, apparently able to sense Caleb’s emotions as he could Molly’s. “I won’t go rooting around, I promise. I don’t need to know anything I don’t need to know.”

“I appreciate that very much,” Caleb says.

Beau is staring at him.

“Can you hear him?”

She shakes her head.

“Only in my head, then." 

“Shame, I won’t be able to fuck with her while we’re like this,” Molly thinks woefully. “Say, could you-“

“No.”

“Aw.” Pouting must be an emotion because Caleb feels it from the man he is hosting. 

Can you hear this? Caleb thinks, testing.

“I can!” Molly replies.

Wonderful.

Beau is staring at him still, giving him a funny look.

“What?”

“Your eyes are red,” she says.

“Ja, so are yours,” he points out. “We are still kind of high.”

“No, no, I mean they’re just red,” She clarifies. “Like, Molly red. Flat red.”

Huh. Strange. 

“Must be a side affect of the possession,” Caleb thinks aloud.

“Possession!?” Nott shrieks from across camp.

“Ja, it is Mollymauk- that is what I meant-“

“I thought you were having like, ghost sex or something!”

Caleb splutters.

“No, that is not what we were doing, or what we planned-”

“Ghost sex?” Molly muses. “Now how would that even work?”

A series of interesting but very impractical images flash through Caleb’s mind, and he is at least fairly certain they are not his.

Mollymauk.

“So sorry!” He is very not sorry and Caleb knows it.

“Caleb?” Nott is grabbing his sleeve, looking up into his eyes, concerned and confused.

Caleb sighs and explains the situation again.

 Half an hour later, Caleb is laying on his bedroll with a pounding headache and stinging eyes.

“I have decided I am not a fan of recreational substances.”

Molly in his head laughs, giggling almost.

“Oh coming down is awful isn’t it? But if you hadn’t gotten high, you wouldn’t have found me!”

That is a plus, I suppose. However, know that I will not join you in any future ‘fun’, so do not ask.

Caleb rubs his eyes uselessly. Massaging his temples does not help either.

“It will pass,” Molly reassures. “All things considered, you handled it pretty well. I’m proud of you!”

Caleb resents that Molly will sense just how much that comment on pride means to him. Molly wisely does not draw attention to it, but Caleb does feel a bit of smugness he cannot hide.

The ladies had decided they would take turns on watch, and leave Caleb (and Molly, by extension) to rest. Caleb insisted he would be fine, but they argued they did not want to test an unknown variable, and he reluctantly agreed to go bed on his own.

Or, as on his own as he could be in his current state.

“You should sleep,” Mollymauk suggests.

I do not know if I can, Caleb thinks, honestly.

“You should try,” He thinks back, gently. And less gently, “I’m exhausted myself and I don’t think I can sleep until you do.”

I am so glad you are so invested in my wellbeing.

They chatter internally for some time before Caleb starts to drift off into sleep.

He dreams of fire.

Chapter Text

Caleb wakes with only vague memories of his dreams. A merciful morning, then. He is glad; after everything that happened yesterday, he thought it would be worse.

“Good morning!” Mollymauk croons, too close to his ear. 

Caleb jolts fully awake, head snapping in the direction he heard the voice. He looks at Molly’s bedroll and he is there, utterly still, unmoving-

“In here,” Caleb feels the very odd sensation of something… moving around… inside his body as Molly speaks. “Remember?”

The memories process. The cold, the ghost, the failed revival. Offering his body for a unique solution. The possession.

This was a terrible idea.

“Oh, truly awful,” Molly agrees. “But you’re stuck with me!”

“Are you awake, Caleb?” Nott calls from the morning fire.

“Ja, I am coming.”

Caleb sits on a log beside Nott and across from Beau. Beau is roasting some kind of beef on skewers, and has bread and vegetables set out on a platter next to her.

“Help yourself. Hey, is Molly still-“ Beau meets Caleb eyes. “Oh, fuck, that’s still freaky as shit.”

“Was?” Caleb inquires in Zemnian. 

“Your eyes are still red, like Molly’s,” Nott says.

Oh. He supposes that must look weird, his dirty, unassuming face with bright red, pupil-less eyes. That is not going to help him blend in.

“Why bother with blending in?”

“I guess that means Molly is still in there with you,” Beau concludes. 

“Ja,” Caleb reaches for a piece of bread. “He is very chatty.”

“Thank him for the food then, these are the fancy rations he bought.”

She says thank you, Mollymauk.

“I heard her,” Molly responds. “Her manners are getting better! Tell her I’m so proud.”

“He says he is proud of your manners.” 

Beau grunts and shrugs, taking a skewer and making a plate for herself. Nott does the same and digs into her meat with a goblin’s abandon. Caleb eats his bread, and starts to put his plate away.

“Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing? There’s good meat, good vegetables!”

It is fine, Mollymauk, I am no longer hungry.

Caleb’s stomach makes a noise. He senses incredulity in Mollymauk.

It is just settling.  

“Feels like hunger to me.”

The ladies need it more than me; I will be fine.

He feels Molly frown, and then his hands pitch forward, grabbing his plate again.

“Wh-“ Caleb starts in alarm, but suddenly no sound is coming out of his mouth.

He has no control over his limbs as he steps forward and grabs a skewer of meat and utensils, and he watches distantly as his body settles with the plate in his lap and starts cutting the beef. He feels pulled backward, and no matter what he wills his body ignores him. He starts to panic and he fights, trying to pull his arms back- 

“Relax,” Mollymauk’s voice comes out of his lips. “I’m just trying to feed you, no need to get worked up about it-“

But Caleb cannot control his body, he wills it to move to his commands and it does not work, he tries to breathe but his breath is not his. Blind panic engulfs all that he is and he shoves and pulls and writhes, anything to regain control.

He abruptly comes to, over aware of the sensations of his body existing. The fabric of his clothing against his skin, dried sleep sweat against his forehead and neck, the prickle of his stubble growing back in, crisp air moving in and out of his lungs. A throbbing pain in his hand.

Caleb looks down, relieved that his head and eyes obey. He has sliced open his thumb with the knife he was cutting his meat with. It is bleeding onto his plate.

“I’m sorry,” Molly says sincerely, in his head. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I was just-“

“Do not. Ever. Do that again.” Caleb articulates aloud, anger shaking in voice.

“Fine,” Molly replies shortly, and he feels him retreat farther back into his head, putting ethereal distance between them.

Nott and Beau are staring at him.

“What was that? What did he do?” Nott asks frantically.

“He took over,” Caleb snaps. “I did not ask him to.”

Caleb adjusts the wrappings on his hand to cover the cut on his thumb. The dirt is probably not very good for it, but it is not very deep, so he thinks it barely matters.

“You deserve to eat,” Molly’s voice says quietly, distantly, from somewhere.

 Caleb stills. He looks at the beef. It is already cut, it would be a waste.

He slowly starts to eat his breakfast.

Molly approves.

They are on the road for several hours before Caleb hears from Mollymauk again. 

“I won’t do that without your permission again.”

You will not do that at all again.

“You have to admit there may be a situation that calls for my expertise,” Molly brings up. “Such as, taking care of yourself, my god man.”

It is not really his concern.

“It is though! You’re a mess, and I intend to leave you better than how I found you.”

Caleb scoffs.

“Fine, fine, I’ll just be here. With minimal physical input. Being boring and unhelpful.”

They are ambushed by bandits. 

It should not be a difficult fight, but there are only three of them, and six bandits. Their attackers are ill equipped, but they have numbers on their side, and the fact that only Beauregard can fight safely in close quarters is a problem. 

Caleb burns one of them alive (he did not look, he did not look) hoping that that will scare them enough to simply leave them alone. But these men are more hardened than Molly’s favorite ruffians, and it simply makes them angry.

Nott takes out another one with her odd new crossbow, and Beau is keeping two of them close to her, forcing them to focus on her whenever they think of leaving her range.

Caleb was being crowded by two of them, and while he’s managed to kill one, he is bloody and tired and faltering. His attacker is screaming with fury, and a blow with her axe breaks through his shield and knocks him onto his back, sinking into his flesh.

She raises it again, and Caleb realizes that this may be the end.

“Let me take over, god, please!”

 Caleb relents.

Infernal pours out of his mouth with a snarl.

Caleb’s assailant flinches, her eyes turning black, and her axe lands two inches from Caleb’s head.

Molly recedes, and Caleb breathes.

A crossbow bolt hits the woman square in the temple, and she topples, immediately dead.

“Caleb!” Nott shrieks. “Caleb, Caleb, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine-“ He starts, but groans when he tries sitting up. 

“Hey, take it easy,” Beau warns, jogging over from the bodies of the bandits she managed to defeat.

Nott pulls out her potion and uncorks it, starts reaching for Caleb’s face.

“No, no, I can not take this-“

“It’s okay Caleb,” Nott explains gently, tipping the bottle on his lips. “It’s important. I was barely hit during that fight, but you are very hurt. And you’re living for two.”

Caleb does not argue further, and swallows the potion offered. He immediately feels better, his more serious wounds knitting back together.

“You make it sound like he’s pregnant or something,” Beau says.

Caleb makes a disgusted sound.

“My birth will be glorious. Release me from your womb, into the world-“

Do not talk about wombs, do not associate me with ladies’ parts, stop now, bitte un danke.

“Sorry, sorry, shutting up now.”

They decide to camp nearby, figuring that the chances of being ambushed again in the same place will be, hopefully, slim. They do not bother with tents tonight either.

 Caleb takes first watch, having been deemed a functional enough being as he was.

“I told you you’d need me,” Molly tells him.

 Ja, you were right. The reluctance of the admittance does not come across well in thought.

“Just, don’t be afraid to ask, ja?” he says.

Caleb chuckles to himself.

Ja.

Caleb smiles proudly.

Two more dissidents, eliminated. He was not sure why this even qualified as a test; it was hardly different from what they usually did. Easier, even; they did not need any information from these people. He already knew they were traitors.

It did not matter that they were his parents. He was disgusted to be born of people who would speak ill of the Empire.  

The flames burned high and bright into the night. The modest home - a hovel, really - was old, dry wood. They had not bothered to bring much oil; Caleb knew it would torch easily.

He thinks of his father, teaching him to read, proud when he surpasses him. He thinks of his mother, braiding flowers into his hair, for luck. He could not believe the vile truth behind these people. That he could ever love them.

And then he hears the screams.

He breaks, and screams too.

He claws desperately at the flame engulfed cart in front of the door, tears streaming down his face, smoke and heat choking him and filling his lungs. His nails are tearing and his hands are burning, his clothes catching fire. He shrieks and sobs for his parents, begging their forgiveness, calling out to them. Someone is calling his name but he does not hear. Someone is pulling on him but he pulls back.

The hands clawing at his back turn cold and sharp and firm, and they grasp his shoulders and pull, dragging him away, ignoring his hysterics. They turn him around, and he looks into the eyes of Mollymauk Tealeaf.

“This is just a dream,” The specter says firmly.

And Caleb wakes.

 “It was just a dream,” Molly tells him, like he does not know.

Caleb stares straight ahead. The morning sun warms his skin, but the morning air cools it. The girls are making breakfast again.

“It’s over now, it wasn’t real,” Molly insists.

It was real.

“Nope, no, we’re not going there-“ 

That is what happened to my parents.

“It was just a nightmare-“

It was a memory. I killed them, Mollymauk.

The tiefling is quiet for a moment. Debating his options to leave this murderer, Caleb is certain, even though he can sense otherwise. 

I understand if you would much rather ride along with Beauregard-

“It doesn’t matter,” Molly settles on, finally.

Caleb scoffs.

“It doesn’t matter,” Molly emphasizes. “It’s in the past.”

I am a horrendous person Mollymauk, I do not deserve to be here-  

“Now, that train of that isn’t at all helpful. Stop that. You told me you believed in new beginnings. Does that not apply to you?”

It does not.

“Caleb Widogast. You are different now. If you ask me… The man that did those things? I think he died in the fire he started. This body is yours now. Don’t dwell on what it once did.”

Caleb ignores him.

Today’s ride grows increasingly unbearable. Nobody is talking and Caleb is left to his thoughts. And Molly’s, but he is keeping a respectful distance after being rejected and Caleb really wishes he would not.

He should have left. He should not be here. He is only a burden on these people, useless to them as they are useless to him. He should have died in that fire, all of him, not just the villain he had become. The shell did not deserve to remain.

His thoughts are too much, to fast. The air is too cold, the saddle too uncomfortable. The reigns are too rough on his hands. His legs ache. The clopping of the horses and the shifting of people and animals and packs feel like sandpaper on his ears. He is tired and just wants it to stop.

“Do you want to rest?” Molly asks.

Nien. They have to keep going. 

“We don’t have to stop, I could just take over for a while. Riding along in someone’s body can be relaxing if you let it!”

Caleb considers.

He is so tired.

Please.

Caleb steps back, and Molly takes over.

The darkness around him is numbing and cold, but comforting in this moment. He can still see through his eyes, and feel through his skin and hear through his ears, but it is distant and dulled. He feels Molly squeeze and release the reins of their horse, testing the give of the leather. He reaches forward with one hand, pats the animals neck, brushes his fingertips through its mane. Relief and comfort. 

Ah. He hates this. Mollymauk hates not being able to really feel.

That is why he could not believe he was a spirit. He could not bear to accept the loss of sensation. And the numbed sensation of sharing a body was only marginally better.

That is why Molly was so eager to take over, but did not want to force it after the first time. He did not want Caleb to experience the numbness without being willing to do so.

It is too much to process, on top of everything. Caleb lets himself drift, falling into something of an emotional slumber.

“Hey, Caleb, what are we doing first when we get to Hupperdook?” Beau asks.

“Caleb’s not here right now, but I can take a message.” Molly replies with Caleb’s tongue.

“Molly? Didn’t Caleb ask you not to do that?”

“Yes, but we came to an arrangement. He’s taking a break.”

 “Uh-huh,” Beau’s eyes narrow. “How do I know you didn’t like, devour his essence or something? 

“You don’t!”

Beau sighs. They ride in silence for a while longer before Beau speaks up again.

“Hey, Molly…” 

“Yep?" 

“I just wanted to, you know…” She pauses. “Thanks.”

“What for?”

Beau shrugs.

“Just… I know it would have been me. That shithead… he wouldn’t have left without killing somebody. If it wasn’t you, it would have been me. And I don’t think I could have done any freaky ghost shit so… I know you didn’t do it on purpose, but you saved me, and I know dying wasn’t worth that but that’s what it did, so… thanks.”

Molly laughs.

“Fjord would be proud, that only looked slightly painful for you!”

She scowls at him.

He waits.

“It was worth it.”

“What?”

Molly-as-Caleb smiles without looking at her, and kicks his horse forward.

Caleb does not know how many hours pass before he is fully aware again. He comes to in the darkness, and feels nothing. The numbness has taken over completely to the point that he does not even feel numb, detached from the sensations of his body. His vision is blurred and distant. He can hear nothing, and only vaguely feels Molly’s presence. 

He feels an abyss, yawning behind him. Waiting for him to drift too far, to lose himself. To die.

He panics.

Mollymauk. Mollymauk Tealeaf! 

Molly hears, quickly acknowledges him with something akin to a nudge, and immediately rescinds control. Caleb jerks into his body, all of his muscles tensing briefly before relaxing. 

He is on a horse. Night is falling. Cool air on his skin.

His ass is sore.

He works to get his panicked breathing under control.

“You alright?”

He is fine, now.

It felt like nothingness, and it was pleasant until it was not, Caleb thinks. It makes me terrified of losing myself. How do you bear it when it is you?

“Because I know it is temporary. And because I trust you not to push me away, and force me into that abyss,” Molly explains with an honesty that hurts.

He always lies, how can he tell the truth like this?

“Because I can’t very well lie when the voice you hear from me is literally my thoughts,” Molly chirps.

You should not trust me, you should not trust me. Caleb is shaking. You know I am a murderer. I could force you into that abyss, to get rid of you. You would fade away and no one would know I did it, they would think it was just a mistake. I could kill you. I could do it right now.

“You could,” Molly is gentle but unfazed. “But you won’t.”

You do not know that.

“I do. I’m in your head, Caleb. I know you’re not actually planning on doing that. The lying thing doesn’t work for you either.”

That does not mean anything, Caleb all but snarls. I could change my mind at the snap of a finger. One moment, and then you are gone, for good.

“You won’t, though,” Molly insists.

Your faith is misplaced.

“Caleb, I know you won’t do something like that, because you stayed.”

You-

“Yes, I know, I said I wouldn’t root around and I kept that promise,” Molly interrupts. “But you have been thinking about it, loudly, all day. How you should have left us behind, saved yourself from all this shit, moved on. How you don’t trust us. But Caleb, you’re still here.”

Caleb is quiet.

“You’re still here and that means something, whether you’re ready to admit it or not.” Molly says. “You may not trust me, but I trust you.”

Did you not advise us to, ‘not get too attached?’ Caleb reminds him bitterly.

“Oh yes, but that is one of those lies you tell yourself out loud hoping it’ll come true,” Molly admits. “It never does, does it?”

Images come into Caleb’s mind, unbidden, from Molly.

Yasha, strong and unmoving. A light in her eyes when she looks into her book of flowers. An awkward shift from foot to foot in a crowd.

Jester, snickering at an unknown innuendo. A grumpy pout hovering over a pained body.

Fjord, handsome. A calm face, taking the lead in a conversation.

Caleb. Very attractive. Leaning over a table, absorbed in a book. Offering intelligent advice. A dry joke, a very good one.

“Molly? Shit, are you crying?” Beau pulls them from their internal conversation.

Caleb’s face feels damp, his throat swollen. Damn, he is crying. And it is him, not Molly. She should not see him like this, he cannot show weakness, she already knows too much about him- 

“Y-yeah, it’s just, a lot, the p-past few days, I’ll be fine,” Molly says out of Caleb’s mouth, pulling forward just long enough to lie and then immediately pushing Caleb back into place.

Beau nods awkwardly and nudges her horse forward, leaving them alone.

Caleb muffles quiet sobs behind his hand.

Why are you so nice? Why are you so nice?

“Hush now, Caleb,” Molly soothes. “Everything’s going to be alright. It’s all going to be alright.”

Chapter Text

The next night goes by uneventfully. When it is time to sleep, Molly distracts Caleb with ridiculous tales of his time with the circus, and he is surprised that only half of them are fabricated. As Caleb drifts off, the wild stories turn into wilder dreams, improbable circumstances turning into impossibly nonsensical situations.

Molly leads him through them all, cackling like a madman all the while.

Caleb wakes more rested than he can ever remember- in a good mood, even- and Mollymauk coils proudly in the back of his mind like smug cat.

 “If we hurry,” Caleb says in the morning, mounting his horse. “We could make it to Hupperdook by the end of the evening.”

“I know we have to be fast, but is it a good idea to push the horses like that?” Nott is making sure Molly’s body is secure. “We’re losing them faster than we’re losing party members! 

“Ugh, Nott, too soon,” Beau groans.

“Sorry!" 

“It is probably not the best idea, but we are running out of time,” Caleb explains. “Hupperdook is very industrial, there may not be a temple with a powerful enough cleric there. We need to leave time to make it back to Zadash if we have no luck in this city.”

“Ah, good point, Caleb,” Nott acknowledges.

“I’m down,” Beau agrees. “Let’s get moving.”

 They kick their horses into a steady trot, while Caleb sends Frumpkin to fly ahead and warn of potential danger.

“Caleb…” 

Yes Mollymauk?  

“How long do you think we have until my body is too far gone? Give me an honest guesstimate.”

Realistically, I would think about a week, Caleb thinks, wishing he could be more optimistic but knowing there is no point.

Molly sighs internally.

“I hope we don’t lose it. I spent all that time decorating it!” 

We will not. Do not worry.

Molly is silent.

Mollymauk…?

“You have to be prepared for that possibility,” Molly says finally.

No we do not. You do not need to think about that, Caleb reassures. We will save you, one way or another.

“That isn’t me, Caleb. I’m me. That body is- or was- mine, but it’s just a body.”

Caleb feels frustration boiling up from within.

So, what? If we fail you can stay with me until we succeed, it is weird but no problem-  

“Caleb, I can’t live like this. You are very accommodating and I can’t thank you enough for letting me ride along with you for now, and I enjoy your company, but I can’t live like this. I just- I can’t. I need to feel and touch and do stupid shit that affects only me, it’s who I am.”

So we find you another body, you can take it and make it your own, cover it in tattoos and sparkly things-

“Just, steal someone else’s body, push them out? Caleb, I can’t do that either-“

No, we find a dead one, but freshly dead and not messed up too much-

“That we kill?”

What else do you want us to do?

“Caleb, if this fails… I have to go.” 

…Go?

“Leave. Let go. Finish the job myself.”

No. No, no.

“Yes. I always knew I was living on borrowed time. If Lucien came back I would cease to exist. All the foolish fun shit I do could’ve killed me. Fighting for what I want is dangerous. I am always prepared-“

You. Are not allowed.

“That’s not your decision! I’m not about to die completely this very instant, I do hope we can fix this, but I’m not sticking around in a world I can’t do anything in. I lived a good life! The circus was fun, I got into some trouble, and my time with the Mighty Nien were some of the best days of my life-“

Stop, stop talking like this. 

“No. I need you to be ready. Tell me you’ll let me go if I go, Caleb.”

I can not, I will not. I will find you, bring you back-

“Why? I don’t mind if I die. Why would you bother?”

Is that some kind of trick question? 

“Maybe.”

We need you here. We want you here.  

“I want to be here, too. Just not like this, forever. I just need you to think about it. You don’t have to accept it right now.”

I will not.

“That’s okay, Caleb. I just need you to think about it, because it might happen, and it won’t be your fault.”

They are both quiet for a long time.

Mollymauk.

“Caleb?”

Do you want control for now?

“Only if you want me to.”

I do.

Mollymauk pulls forward, gently, taking control of the Caleb’s body. Taking in the sensations of being alive. Caleb stays closer this time, but leave Molly at the forefront until the end of the night.

 It is dark when they arrive back at Hupperdook, the city-wide party already in full swing. They head to the Blushing Tankard, and send Nott to take the horses to the stables while Beau and Caleb figure out what to do with Molly’s body in a nearby alleyway. 

“I mean, we could just leave him in a room,” Beau suggests.

“Ja, of course, but first we have to get him in there without causing a scene. We cannot just walk in there with a human sized bundle and say ‘hullo bartender, we would like two rooms please, make sure there is an extra bed for this corpse I am carrying around.”

“You’re the one who wanted to come here!”

“I don’t see why you can’t just carry it in there,” Molly pipes up in Caleb’s head. “It’s very busy and everyone is very drunk, I really don’t think anyone will be sober enough to care.”

“Mollymauk thinks everyone will be too drunk to notice.”

“It’s the only thing we can do, really.”

Caleb sighs in defeat. 

In the end, Beau goes in to pay for their rooms ahead of time while Caleb waits with Molly and the body. Nott meets up with them while he’s waiting, and when Beau gets back they carefully carry the bundle into the tavern, past the patrons, and into the first room. They, somehow, encounter no trouble.

“Molly was right, it seems.”

“Yeah, don’t let him get a swelled head about it,” Beau says. “I’m gonna get a drink, bring it back up, and stay back here.”

“Me too,” Nott says. “I’m not really in the mood to party.”

“Same,” Beau agrees.

Caleb can feel Molly’s disappointment.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Nott replies. “But you and Molly can go have fun if you want, Caleb! We'll have a girls' night!” 

“I suppose,” Caleb concedes.

He leaves them and goes downstairs.

“Here’s an idea,” Molly suggests gleefully. “How about we get some alcohol, and have a good time?”

I had planned on getting a drink, but I think we could pass on the ‘good time’.

“The night has only just started, and you’re already determined to be miserable? Come now, Caleb, this is a city of celebration and revelry! All we can do with our problems right now is forget them, and enjoy the moment!”

I do not have the gold nor the interest to hire companionship, Mollymauk. Especially not with our current situation.

There is something akin to stunned silence in his head, followed by laughter.

“There’s more to a good time than fucking, my friend! Though it would be very interesting if you wanted to-”

No. 

Molly cackles.

Caleb reluctantly approaches the bar, pushing past the crowd of gnomes. 

“Can I have a drink over here, please,” Caleb calls.

The dwarven lady- Ireena, Molly supplies helpfully- turns quickly to him.

“Of course, what can I- oh, you’re that grubby wizard fellow with the Mighty Nien! Welcome back, traveler!” She comes forward with a tankard she’s already filling with ale.

Caleb pushes forward a few copper pieces and takes it, thanking her.

“So what brings you back-“ Her eyes widen. “Oh my, what odd eyes for a human!”

Ah, the eyes. Caleb keeps forgetting about that.

“Right, yes, magic, you know-“

“Oh no, it’s quite alright! It’s rather alluring,” She purrs. “Speaking of, where is your strapping green friend?”

Caleb is very uncomfortable but Molly is reveling in the attention, and the internal conflict between the emotions is disconcerting.

“He is, not with us, at the moment,” Caleb answers. ”He had things to do.”

“Hmm, shame,” She frowns. “Let me know if you need anything!" 

She turns away to attend to other customers. 

“Caleb, let’s play a game!”

He sips his ale. What did you have in mind?

“First one to get a free drink wins! Call her back over and let me try.”

As long as you do not invite her into our room tonight.

Caleb calls Ireena and lets Molly take over.

“I was hoping I could try something much stronger,” Molly grins with Caleb’s face. “and I’m sure a woman like you knows exactly what I need to have a good time!”

Mollymauk, Caleb warns. He ignores him.

“I do know,” She smiles and pulls out a small glass and a large bottle of dark liquid. “Fifty silver, but it’s worth it!”

Damn.

“I’ll take it!” Molly says anyway, and pays.

Molly throws the shot back Caleb’s throat as Ireena walks away, and it burns.

Ow.

“Your turn!” Molly pushes Caleb abruptly forward, into control.

Caleb waves Ireena back over and lifts the glass in her direction.

“I would like some more of this,” Caleb says.

Ireena looks at him for moment. 

“Please?” Caleb smiles with his teeth.

The dwarf gives him a disturbed look but pours more into his shot glass.

“Fifty more, if you please.” 

Caleb nods, and pays.

This is coming out of your pocket when you come back.

“You didn’t even try!” Molly whines.

Caleb drinks and shudders, then pulls Molly forward.

Molly waits a few minutes before trying again, calling the bartender over to them. 

“It is, so good to see you again, you know?” Molly says. “My friends wanted to try a different bar tonight but I told them, oh no, how would anything else compare to the Blushing Tankard? What is the point of having a drink if I don’t get to bask in Ireena’s beauty while it’s being poured?” 

Caleb makes a disgusted noise in his head.

The dwarf smiles coyly.

“Well you’re a flatterer, aren’t you!”

Molly winks.

“More for you then?”

“Of course!”

She pours more dark liquid into his glass, and as he takes it she holds out her hand with a raised eyebrow.

Molly hands her the money.

“I can’t believe that didn’t work,” Molly downs the shot. “You’re up!”

Caleb takes over. Molly thought he could just, flirt with Caleb’s body like it was no problem, using his plain face to try and get favors. Did he not know he was charming because he was pretty? Of course he was charming in other ways, but Caleb’s face was not going to do him any favors, he would prove it, he could try anything with this and it would not work. 

“That’s… the spirit?” Molly hesitatingly encourages. 

Caleb calls Ireena back over.

“More, really?” She asks.

“Ja, you see…” Caleb starts, and rests his chin lightly on his hand, making direct eye contact. “I must drink to forget all the terrible things I think of you. To hold you in my arms, hear you call my name… But I do not have the coin to afford such an exquisite creature, and you deserve no less than to be honored. Ah, I am a jealous person, it could never be, anyway.”

He sighs dramatically, eyes closed, for effect.

Ireena stares at him, hand on her chest, before leaning forward and taking his chin in her hands. He looks down at her pitifully. 

“Oh my, darling. You are right that it could never be, I don’t have time for men who cannot pay, my work is far too busy. But I can give you this, on me, to nurse your broken heart.”

She pats his cheek and smiles, pours his drink and walks away, but not before giving him a wink and a wave.

“Oh my god, Caleb!”

Caleb downs the shot. 

“Caleb!”

Fuck you, I win.

“Caleb! I got hot listening to that! Damn! Talk like that again!”

No.

“Woo me, Caleb! Tell me of your heartbreak!”

No.

The pianist in the corner is playing a good song, nice and fast and loud. Or maybe he is just drunk.

I have a better idea.

“I don’t know if I can focus on any other ideas! Oh,” It clicks. “Are we going to dance? Dance with me, Caleb!”

That will be hard, Caleb thinks, but he walks out into a space full of twirling gnomes anyway.

“Let’s take turns, then it’s like we’re dancing together!”

Caleb lets Molly take the lead, spinning on his toes with his arms out, holding nothing. Then Caleb takes over, finishing his partnerless steps. They do take turns, weaving in and out and past each other, until they lose track of who’s who, where one ends and the other begins. There is laughter, loud, and they do not know whose it is, and it does not matter. There is happiness and togetherness in this moment, and nothing will ruin it.

Chapter Text

Caleb wakes with a hangover twice as bad as any he’s ever had before. He groans and rolls over. He does not remember what happened after the dancing.

“But it was fun, wasn’t it?” 

His head is pounding and the morning light streaming the window hurts his eyes. He does not know how he got up here. He may throw up.

“Come now, tell me the truth. You had fun for once in your life!”

Caleb sits up, fighting the nausea and dizziness. He notices the bed next to his is occupied. It is too big to be Nott, and she usually curls up in bed with him anyway. It must be Beau.

“Hallo,” Caleb calls quietly. 

They do not shift.

Caleb sighs. Time is of the essence, they do not have the liberty to sleep in and laze around.

He stands, and reaches over to his mystery companion.

“Uh, Caleb, maybe that’s not-“

 Caleb pulls back their sheets and reveals Molly, dead. The smell hits him shortly after.

Yes, he is going to throw up. 

Caleb throws the sheets back into place and stumbles over the bed towards the chamber pot, dropping to his knees and heaving into it.

“I thought that might happen. Sorry.”

Caleb leans against the wall near the pot, rubbing his face. Why would they just leave him there, and not tell him?

“They probably did, we just got really hammered.”

He lets himself sit on the floor for a while, head leaned back. They need to move, but he is afraid if he moves now he will just make it worse. Best to give it some time.

After a few minutes, Caleb shifts and pulls out a wire, bringing it to his lips.

“Nott? Can I get a recap of last night? We are very hungover.”

He waits, but there is no response. He uses the piece of wire again.

“Nott? Status update, please?”

No response.

“Now Caleb, I’m sure everything’s fine, don’t panic-

Too late.

“Beauregard,” He tries next. “This is Caleb. Is everything alright? You can respond to this.”

She doesn’t respond either.

The panic rises in Caleb’s chest. His breath catches, becoming rapid and desperate. Why were they not nearby? Had they left them behind? He would not blame them for leaving him but everyone cared for Molly so why would they just go? He does not remember casting his alarm spell. Maybe it was the Iron Shepherds, they must have followed them back, taken them too. Or even just killed them, he was not there to save them and they just-

“Caleb, Caleb! Deep breaths, breathe with me!”

Molly counts in his head, but he also feels cool pressure on his chest, compressing and releasing in time. Caleb allows it, focusing on his breath, the pressure, the pounding in his head, the wood under his hands.

He is still worried when his panic subsides, but much less manic.

“There you go!” Molly praises. “That train of thought didn’t even make sense, did it?”

It did not. They were hardly a threat to the Iron Shepherds, that is how they got into this situation in the first place. They would have no reason to pursue them. If they had wanted them all dead, they would be dead. If they wanted to capture them, they would be captured.

That still did not explain why the girls were not nearby. 

Caleb lifts himself from the ground and takes better stock of his surroundings. Chamber pot beside him, two beds in the middle of the small room. One mussed from his slumber and one a place of rest for a corpse. A rickety window, and a small table between the beds. On the table, there is a mug of water and a plate of breakfast foods; eggs, bacon, bread and butter, probably all cold.

Next to the plate, a piece of paper.

“They left a note! See? They’re fine!”

The note could say anything. Caleb crosses the room and sits on the bed, taking it. It could be a ransom note. 

“It’s not a ransom note, Caleb.” 

It is not a ransom note.

Hey guys, it says. 

You got pretty wild last night, we tried to plan with you but you probably don’t remember. And this morning one of you threatened to blow us up when Nott tried to wake you (probably Caleb. What the fuck, man?) so we figured we’d let you sleep. Someone had to stay with the body anyway. I just turned you over so you wouldn’t choke on your own puke if you hurled (you’re welcome).

Nott and I are going to search the town for a cleric or something, and hopefully bring one back here. Don’t really want to lug the dead Molly around in public during the day anyway. One or both of us will be back around midday with an update.

We have the haversack. Nott got you breakfast.  

- Beau

Love, Beau & Nott

Most of the letter is in Beau’s handwriting, but Beau’s initial signature is scratched out and replaced with “Love, Beau & Nott” in Nott’s crude lettering. It is a little thing, but it warms Caleb’s heart. And Molly’s, by the feel of it.

“Told you they were alright.”

True, Caleb thinks. 

He looks to the window. Based on the position of the sun, it would be about ten in the morning. The girls will not return for two to four hours.

I do not like not having an active role in this endeavor.

Molly sits in baffled silence for a moment.

“Mister Caleb, I think you have the most active role in this endeavor, I’m not sure how you could possibly land at the conclusion that you’re not contributing.”

Caleb is not sure how sitting here waiting while Beau and Nott do all the work counts as a contribution.

“You are hosting my spirit,” Molly reminds him. “We discussed this, this is important and pretty much guarantees a spell’s success. This is a pretty big deal, Caleb.” 

Caleb is quiet.

…So you will not leave.

“That’s… not what I said.” 

Mollymauk.

“I have high hopes. It’s good to hope! Life is miserable otherwise. But, realistically, failure is still a possibility I’m prepared for. And you should be too.”

I think you are a hypocrite, Mollymauk Tealeaf.

Molly does not respond. Caleb feels why. 

You are scared.

“Of course I am, of course I am. It’s just not helpful to be scared, because that will scare you, and you’re scared all the time-“ 

I am often scared and it is frequently intense and irrational, ja, Caleb thinks. But that means I am used to it. You do not have to shield your emotions from me.

He feels Molly relax, and melt into him a bit. He feels his fear, his anxiety about his future and the choice he may have to make. Death or undeath. He has lived well, but short. He is only two years old.

 We will take care of you, Mollymauk, Caleb thinks, intense and gentle at the same time. You will rise, to drink, fuck, and be merry once again.

Molly laughs internally at that, mirth bubbling around them both.

“We can only hope.”

 Caleb entertains Molly with the thrilling mundane activity of copying spells into his spellbook to pass the time. Molly is legitimately enthralled, somehow. He asks what different symbols mean and materials do, and Caleb finds it much easier to conjure concepts and mental images for Molly to interpret than explaining each with words. He wishes he could explain all complex magic this way. It would be much more effective to teach Nott like this.

At approximately one in the afternoon, there is a patterned knock at the door. They do not have a secret knock, but he is fairly certain it is one of their companions simply because they tried. 

Caleb quickly stores his books and materials away and opens the door. 

Beau greets him.

“Hey. Found a cleric.”

“That was fast.”

“Yeah, we got lucky, we’re coming in,” She pushes him out of the way and waves someone inside.

A young adult gnome walks in, smaller than average. She wears red and gold robes adorned with a shimmering golden sun, with bronze pauldrons that would be intimidating if they were not clearly decorative. A sun shaped symbol hangs from a chain on her neck. Her long, wild dark red hair is tamed into a low ponytail, and freckles dust her cheeks under soft brown eyes.

Nott enters after her. 

“Hi Caleb, did you eat?”

“Ja, thank you.” He responds quickly. “Who is this?”

“Caleb, this is Primya! Primya, this is Caleb,” Nott introduces.

“Nice to meet you,” Primya says politely.

“You as well,” Caleb says awkwardly.

“Yeah, so what she’s doing for us is super illegal,” Beau speaks up from the corner of the room. “We paid her a shitton to come and do this.”

The gnome looks offended.

“I told you I would accept just enough to cover the cost of the diamond, you didn’t have to pay me the rest…” 

“We paid you more because you’re doing us a big, dangerous favor,” Nott explains quickly. “Beau does want to be nice, it’s just that everything that comes out her mouth sounds mean!” 

“Hey,” Beau says.

“Why is it illegal?” Caleb asks. He does not remember any laws against miracles. “How do you know we can trust her?”

“Necromancy is forbidden everywhere in the Empire,” Primya starts to answer. “The spells we use fall under that umbrella, even though the magic is divine. We are still taught these spells, and the Empire looks the other way when they want a government official or rich influencer to have a second chance at life, supporting those in power… but resurrecting anyone else can be punishable by banishment, or even execution.”

How cruel and unfair. Caleb wonders if Ikathon would be deemed worthy of resurrection. He supposes he may have to rethink his strategy to assure it would be impossible.

“And we can trust her,” Nott adds. “She’s friends with the nice couple who adopted Kiri. They recommended her to us.”

“Where is the body? I would like to hurry this along, this isn’t the most secure place I’ve preformed this.”

“Over here, please,” Caleb guides her over to the second bed.

He gently pulls back the covers, as well as the tapestry. Molly’s body is still and cold, gaunt. Hair limp, mouth slightly open. Skin ashy.

Primya pulls out a palm sized diamond and places it on Molly’s chest, and begins prepping the area for her spell.

“Have you done this before?” Nott asks, as she and her companions watch the cleric flit around the bed.

“Not as often as I’d like,” she says, placing a candle. “I believe death comes too soon for many, and Pelor teaches us the value of life, and the power of healing. He granted me this power so I could share it. I would bring back anyone who asked, but it’s just not sustainable. I need to always have my Empire granted diamond on hand for any random inspection… If I use it, I must replace it.”

“So you can only help people who can pay,” Beau finishes.

“I only take the cost of the diamond. Usually,” She clarifies, shooting Beau a look before returning to work. “It seems very unfair, but if I get caught, I can’t help anyone…”

“It sounds like shit situation.” Beau says.

“It is.” Then Primya smiles. “But I can help your friend, I think. You all must love him very much.

“Yeah, yeah,” Beau waves her hand dismissively.

“We do,” Nott says simply. 

“Ja,” Caleb agrees.

 He feels warmth pool and spread in his chest. Tears prick at his eyelids and they are not his.

Caleb sighs.

“I can’t help it, I love you too, tell them I love them too!”

Tell them yourself.

“I want to stay, Caleb. I want to live.”

Stay as long as you want. No matter what happens

“I don’t know if I can. You know I don’t know. But I’ll try.”

That is all they can ask. 

“We are ready,” the cleric breaks the silence. “If you want to come closer before I start. Being surrounded by loved ones can encourage the soul to return.”

They gather around, but do not tell her that they have it on good authority that the soul is already planning on returning.

Are you ready?

“Ja, ja!”

Caleb smiles.

“We are ready,” he says aloud.

Primya smiles encouragingly, and grasps her holy symbol. The diamond on Molly’s chest begins to glow and rise, floating in the air. It pulls the tiefling’s still chest up with it, raising the body a few inches off of the bed. Light from the candles refracts off of the diamond, causing the whole room to glimmer.

Now, they wait.

Nott sits on the bed and chatters to Molly, knowing he can hear. She tells him what a great man he is, how she cannot wait to talk to him again. How Yasha and Jester and Fjord will be happy to see him alright. 

Beau sits on the floor, resting her head on her folded arms on the bed. She is silent for most of the ritual, but thirty minutes in she quietly promises she will try to be a better person and fuck up less because of him.

Caleb does not know what to say. Molly can hear his thoughts, feel his heart. Molly knows he wants him to live. Molly knows he needs his light in his life, a bright spot in a world that has been so unforgiving.

“You know, as much as I hate the numbness and lack of control, I’m going to miss this,” Molly tells him softly.

I think I will too, Caleb thinks. It is nice having a buddy to bully me into taking care of myself.

“I can still do that from outside! I’ll recruit Nott, too, she basically does the same already.”

…Dancing was fun, Caleb thinks, feeling a pang of regret that he only remembers a bit of it.

“We can do that together, separately,” Molly promises. 

The hour is coming to a close. Molly’s body is not living, but the most dire wounds have closed and his skin has filled out a bit.

It is getting to be the time. 

“I should go.”

Do not hesitate to return to me if you need to, Caleb thinks firmly. I will be here, and you do not have to ask.

“I know.” 

Caleb feels affection flood him, and he does not know which of them is the source. It is nice, and he revels in it until it suddenly diminishes. He feels empty, and realizes Molly has left him.

He anxiously watches the body.

 Molly reaches towards his body, and as he enters it, he abruptly pulled downward and his sight is flooded with darkness.

He floats, pulled down, down. He looks up and sees light, upwards. Voices calling him.

He is drifting away from it.

No. Not today. Not after all they did for him.

He claws his way toward it, willing himself up. He is stopped by hands on his arms, holding him in place. Forcing him to look.

He sees his wrong-face, the not-Mollymauk Tealeaf. Gold eyes, raised eyebrows on a bare lavender face, a smirk.

“Lucien,” Molly acknowledges, trying not to let the fear and desperation enter his voice.

“You have no idea what you are, do you?” His accent is like Kree’s. 

Molly reflexively snarls at him in infernal, he does not know what he says but it echoes loudly in inhuman layers and he startles at it, staring wide eyed.

Lucien’s smile gets bigger.

“This will be interesting,” he chuckles. “The body is yours.”

He lets Molly go, and he does not wait to process what his dead self means. He moves towards the light, following the sound of his friend’s voices.

 The spell ends, the diamond shatters, and Molly’s body falls onto the bed, limp.

Caleb, Beau and Nott wait.

And wait.

And wait. 

Caleb feels ice in the pit of his stomach. Molly remains unmoving. He begins searching the room frantically, looking around for a sign of Mollymauk’s ghost. Waiting for the cold, for his voice to appear in his head. 

But it does not. He left them, he realizes. It failed and he left. He did not even say goodbye. He did not because he knew Caleb would not let him go, he failed to convince him to stay, he is gone and left and Caleb could not stop him-

A loud, wheezing gasp comes from the bed, and Molly’s back arches in effort.

“Molly!” Nott shrieks in delight, hopping onto the bed.

He coughs, hacking large globules of congealed blood out of his throat and lungs. Beau grabs him by the shoulder and forces him to sit up, then smacks his back with a fist until he finishes expelling wasted blood from his body. 

Caleb sighs in relief, collapsing onto the bed and resting a hand on Molly’s knee.

“Hey,” Molly says roughly, once he can breathe more evenly.

“Hey,” Beau smiles.

Caleb rubs Molly’s knee.

Molly looks around the room and grins.

“You know, I don’t believe I’ve seen a group of people more in need of a good time in my entire life!”

Beau smacks him, then pulls him into a quick but firm hug.

“What do you want to do now that you’re back, Molly?” Nott asks. “I think you should make our plans for the next few hours.”

“I know who I want to do, but I’d settle for some heavy drinking!”

Nobody else catches Molly’s apparent misspeaking, but he side eyes Caleb with a smirk. The wizard just raises an eyebrow at him. 

Nott misses the entire voiceless exchange and hands Molly her flask.

“You can start here!”

“Ha! Bless you, ma’am!” He takes it and tilts his head back, drinking heartily until he has swallowed the equivalent of half the flask.

He wipes his mouth and hands it back to her, and hops confidently to his feet.

And falls flat on his face.

Nott flits over to him and starts patting him down with anxious concern. Both humans just stare down at him with significantly less worry. Caleb clicks his tongue.

“Having some trouble?” Beau asks flatly.

“Fuck you, Beau.” Comes Molly’s muffled reply.

 The gnome cleric speaks up.

“Um, you do need to be careful, maybe,” She says. “We brought you back to life, but you’re going to be kind of… off for a few days.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Molly says from the floor, with an interesting blend of sincerity and sarcasm.

“It would probably be unwise to drink too much, too…” 

“Uh-huh.”

Beau nudges him with her foot. 

“Are you just gonna lay there or…”

“I’m waiting for my wonderful friends who paid a lot of money to return my body to me to help me up and carry me because ow I am actually still in a lot of pain.”

“Yeah, shit, we did spend a lot of money on you,” Beau notes. “What do we get in return?”

“The gift of my beautiful presence,” Molly says with impressive confidence considering his current appearance; pale, gaunt, greasy, covered in dry flaking blood and still sprawled unattractively on the floor.

No one moves. 

“Caleeeeeeb,” Molly whines, holding out his hands. 

Caleb sighs.

He reaches down and pulls Molly to his feet, slings his arm around his own shoulders and supports the tiefling’s back with his other arm. Molly grins at him.

“You may smell worse than me right now,” Caleb teases.

Molly snickers.

“Yeah, maybe we should get baths before we start celebrating,” Beau suggests. 

“Who says baths can’t be part of the celebration?” Molly crows. “Let’s treat ourselves! We’re alive and we deserve to feel good!”

“We don’t actually have a lot of money left,” Nott says sheepishly. “-to go crazy with treating ourselves, you know, because-“

“Don’t ruin it, Nott!”

“Okay! Okay.”

Caleb turns to face Primya. Molly turns with him.

“Thank you very much for this, really.”

“Danke, danke,” Molly adds, with a much improved accent.

The young gnome smiles.

“You’re very welcome,” She says softly. “It’s nice to be able to spread hope in these difficult times.”

Caleb nods, a bit awkward in response to her sincerity.

“Shall we?” Molly asks.

“Ja, let’s go,” Caleb replies.

And the four members of the Mighty Nien leave the small room, stepping back out into the world.

Chapter Text

“And that is how our Mollymauk returned to us,” Caleb finishes.

“I can’t believe we almost lost you, Mollyyyy,” Jester sobs. “And I wasn’t even there to be a good healer! The Traveler would have helped me fix you up right away, you know!”

“I know, dear, I know,” Molly soothes, putting and arm around the smaller tiefling and squeezing her shoulders.

“So, to clarify,” Fjord drawls. “Molly didn’t die from his magic sword coming to life and devouring his mortal soul, as he had described to me previously?”

“You told me you found really cool treasure but when you grabbed it you got killed by a super bad curse thing,” Jester pipes up. “Does that mean you don’t actually have any cool treasure to show us?” 

“You didn’t get stabbed to death by a giant demon bug.” Yasha notes firmly.

“Yeah, it wasn’t a cliff diving accident either,” Beau adds. “I don’t know why you tried to convince me that happened, I watched you go down.” 

“He told me he got frozen solid,” Nott cuts in. “Which, to be fair! Happened to everything around me during that fight so I don’t know, I thought that could’ve been what happened!”

“Ja, and he did not get eaten by a creepy giant fish in a weird ocean void somewhere,” Caleb says with a sigh. “He died trying to save all of you and us.”

Several eyes turn to stare warmly at Mollymauk, who, though grinning, starts to shift uncomfortably.

“Actually, everything Caleb described is a lie to make you all feel special and important,” Molly deflects. “I actually died being torn apart and half eaten by a dragon!”

Jester gasps loudly. “You were vored by a dragon?”

“Jester!” Fjord scolds.

Their table erupts in laughter, mingling with the chatter of the other tavern patrons, the roaring of the fires, the music of the band playing in the corner. Jester, Fjord, and Yasha regale their tales together in captivity as the day winds down, the Mighty Nien together again.

Eventually, Jester announces she is going to bed early, because she has a lot to tell the Traveler.

Yasha excuses herself shortly after, and Nott does the same. Beau and Fjord chat, nursing their last drinks of the night, leaving Mollymauk and Caleb to themselves.

“Well,” Mollymauk starts. “That’s a real weird situation to look back on, huh?”

“Ja, and incredibly difficult to describe to other people,” Caleb complains. 

“You did it well!”

Caleb allows himself to accept the complement. They sit in comfortable silence for a while.

“It was fun, in a way. Maybe I could ride you again sometime,” Molly teases, grinning cheekily.

“Ja,” Caleb responds, not looking at him. “Maybe this time you can buy me a drink first.”

Molly splutters, then laughs.

Caleb turns to look at the tavern bards in the corner, playing various instruments he does not know the name of. The tune is fast, light, uplifting.

Caleb stands, takes Molly’s hand and leads them to a space between tables. The tiefling follows without hesitation.

“Mister Caleb?”

Caleb takes Molly’s other hand.

“Mister Mollymauk. Are you going to dance with me or are you going to stand there?”

Molly face cracks into a grin and he immediately starts stepping to the beat, pulling Caleb into twirls and sways. He is not very good. It is more endearing than it should be.

They dance on into the night, as patrons begin to file out or into bed.

The music starts to slow. Caleb leans close into Molly, and leads their foreheads to press together. Warm skin touching, bright eyes staring at him. He smiles, softly. Molly smiles back.

He is glad he stayed.