Oh man oh boy I just love how all of the things from Fjord’s past that he hated about himself are accepted and celebrated in The Mighty Nein.
The tusks he used to pick at? Jester thinks he would look really handsome with them. When they start to grow back she makes sure to compliment him on the way they look.
Not being heard or respected? He’s Captain Tusktooth. Jester draws or tattoos his symbol wherever she can. Beau listens to his advice and takes it to heart. Caleb always makes sure to get Fjord’s opinion on whatever their plan is if he hasn’t weighed in yet. No one bats an eyelid or changes how they interact with him when he switches to his real accent.
Feeling small and powerless? When Fjord does actually lose his powers, he’s not rejected. He’s equipped with whatever useful items The Mighty Nein can spare. They go on a quest to reforge a sword for him. Caduceus encourages him to reach out to the Wildmother. Everyone reminds him that he’s the best talker in the group and relies on him for gathering important intel.
The surname that means “tossed aside”? It’s the surname of one of the families from a history that is sacred to Caduceus. It’s confirmation and encouragement to Caduceus that they’re on the right path and is reassurance to him right after admitting that he’s feeling lonely.
Not feeling like he ever belonged? He’s a vital part of The Mighty Nein, even without his powers. He loves them and they love him just as much.
The Mighty Nein are commissioned by a Zadash barkeeper to sabotage a rival bar. Said rival caught a mermaid last month and is displaying her while at the same time using her magical voice to lure people into their bar. It’s been killing business for the other bars on the block.
The job is simple: get rid of the mermaid.
Beau, Caleb, Fjord and Nott wind up being the ones who accept the job. Yasha doesn’t think she’s stealthy enough, Caduceus thinks the whole thing is barbaric, and Molly actually respects the hustle and also doesn’t want to be around if a mermaid is going to be killed.
The four break into the bar so late in the night that it’s nearly the early morning. What they find is an empty tavern built around a raised stage draped in blue curtains. The whole building smells of chlorine and spilled alcohol. Their footsteps make sticky noises as they approach the stage.
Fjord grips his falchion. Beau nods at Caleb. Caleb gives a long, grim look at Nott. Nott scrabbles up onto the stage and pulls the curtain aside.
Behind the curtain is a glass sphere, about six, seven feet in diameter, lit by an arrangement of low burning gas lamps. In the sphere is a pretty little blue mermaid, startled out of a restless sleep and looking back at the four with surprise, and fear, and more than a little hope.
Fjord - Fjord the sailor, Fjord the boy raised on stories of high seas adventures and merfolk and monsters - is smitten instantly, and puts the falchion away. “This is wrong,” he says, thinking of the open ocean, the spray of the sea, the freedom of the water.
There’s a long, thoughtful pause.
“Fuck,” Beau says. And that’s it. That’s when the plan changes.
Caleb lifts Nott up, and Nott picks the lock on the lid of the sphere. The mermaid, recognizing a rescue mission, flips and turns in the sphere with sudden life, giggling and nearly crying with relief.
They tear the curtains down from their rings, soak them in water, wrap the mermaid in them and carry her out into the streets. There’s a brief bit of trouble with a pair of Crownsguard, and Beau is the one who tells them that this totally normal human woman is their friend who just drank a bit too much and that they’re just carrying her back to the inn.
“Oh man!” the mermaid adds in a very loud and obvious tone. “I am so very drunk and just want to get back to the inn!”
Beau - Beau the rebel, Beau the teenager who spent a lot of nights doing something at least similar to this - falls in love with her just a little bit, right then and there. She won’t think of this until weeks later, and she won’t admit it for months after that.
Once they’re back in the inn, Caleb draws a bath in the tub shared between his and Molly’s room, and slowly lowers the mermaid in. She asks him his name.
“Cay-leb,” she says, quietly, softly. “Thank you.”
Caleb - Caleb the lost and found, Caleb the hobo wizard so sure he’s undeserving of praise even after all this time - feels something in his heart ache. Something heavy and sticky is in the back of his throat. Around it, he manages to ask the mermaid her name.
In the morning, they’ll realize that the barkeeper who hired them doesn’t want anything to do with Jester. In the morning, they’ll all accept the fact that their lives have forced them in a very different direction. In the morning, they’ll make for the Menagerie Coast to reunite Jester with her mother.
(In the morning, Molly will stride buck naked into the bathroom he shares with Caleb, groggy and unseeing, and will only notice the mermaid once he hears her giggling from the tub)
But for all of them - for the three of them, and for the rest of the party once they meet Jester proper - it’s worth it.
Ever since Jester nearly broke down after Caduceus enquired about her well-being I wondered what it would look like if Jester went to therapy, and I run with that idea. I cooked up this fic and seasoned it with some shipping near the end (I kept it vague so regardless to which tone your shipper-heart beats you can enjoy this).
Sadly, it ended up being more than the 2000-word-limit I had given myself for Tumblr, but I couldn’t bring myself to cut anything. I hope, you still give this a shot.
The perfect moment (or otherwise known as Jester’s therapy session) [3831 words]
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“Do you mind if I sit?”
Like a bubble that suddenly popped Jester was ripped out of her trance-like state. Her hand darted to her ax while her head jerked upward. The person that had spoken was only a few feet away, partially cast in shadow by the waning sunlight. Jester’s first instinct was to jump to her feet and run, casting her guardians into existence behind her, but she was stopped in her tracks when the voice spoke once more.
“No need to be frightened. Do you not remember me?
The familiarity in his voice… Jester exhaled loudly. “Oh, it’s you.”
As if he had planned it the Stranger stepped out of the penumbra of the giant cherry tree, revealing his gaunt face and wizened features. The mop of greyish-brown hair and bushy beard covering his head almost entirely lent him a wild look that stood in stark contrast to the fine clothing he was wearing.
His blue eyes looked on in anticipation from behind the giant glasses placed on his meager nose. Jester was about to enquire about the reason for his staring when his question came back to her. “Yes, of course, you can sit if you wish.” She worked a smile into her face. “Who am I to forbid it?”
The Stranger didn’t budge. “It appears as though you scurried away in search of solitude. I would be remiss not to ask if my presence poses an intrusion to your personal space.”
“Na. Everybody is welcomed and nobody gets excluded. That is my life motto.” Jester leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I’m going to make an exception, however, if you don’t start talking normally.”
“Normally?”
“Yes. Like me.” Jester puffed herself up and beamed.
Without another word the stranger hunkered down, leaving a space between them which would comfortably fit another person.
“I don’t bite, you know,” Jester said.
“We are acquainted with each other for only a few hours. I feel more comfortable acting accordingly.”
Jester raised an eyebrow. Precisely six hours had gone by since they, as a group, had stumbled upon this stranger and Jester was already certain that he posed the most bizarre character they had met in their time together. In its introduction he had provided no name; “of no relevance” he had said. Jester had tried to name him after funny-sounding zemnian names like “Helmut” or “Friedhelm”, but it had provoked no reaction in the Stranger besides a toneless “if you wish”. From there on out, Jester knew there was no fun to be had with this individual.
Now, she simply called him “the Stranger” in her head because it sounded both intriguing and mysterious. Both applied to him.
Jester perked her head up and broke the silence which had briefly fallen between them. “Why did you follow me when you knew I wanted to be alone?” A contradiction that had only just come to her.
“Why did you run away?” he asked instead of answering.
Jester pulled back, aghast. “I did not r—”
“Running, then drawing. With the former, you have distanced yourself physically, while the latter was meant to distant yourself mentally.” He gave a pointed look at her notebook filled with cartoonish doodles. “I could make an educated guess on the reason why, but I would prefer you to tell me what had prompted such behavior.”
Anger, boiling and churning under her skin like a torrent under the surface of a peaceful sea, slipped into her voice unnoticed. “I changed my mind. I would like to be alone now.”
“I’m afraid I can’t comply with your desires.” The impassive face of the Stranger, unfaced by the sudden tension, irritated her even more. “I don’t like prodding people over delicate problems but I consider it necessary to help you.” He adjusted his glasses. His eyes looked weary. “You may hate me for it; as I know I will.”
“I don’t need your help. I certainly didn’t ask for it.”
“Which appears to be the main issue. You never ask anyone for help; which is why you fled.” He sighed as if he already grew tired of the conversation he had begun. “You had a choice back there. Between disclosing and concealing. Unfortunately, you chose wrong.”
“Don’t presume to know me after just a few hours! I cle—”
“I know when a smile is meant to appease and when to deceive.”
Jester gasped audibly. “I’m fine,” she growled, on the verge of screaming. “I’m always fine!”
For a long time, nothing was being said. The soft breezes of the early spring were drowned out by the heavy breathing of Jester, who found herself being vexed with this man. It took a lot to get under her skin; it took even more to anger her. The Stranger managed to do both with but a few words. Jester wanted to run, escape to somewhere far away, but that would just prove his point. She had to stand her ground.
Finally, in the uncomfortable tension occupying the space between them, the Stranger stirred. Hope sparked in Jester’s heart as he propped himself up, but only briefly before she realized he wasn’t about to leave. All he had done was shift positions to face her directly. Jester was about to let another torrent of words loose when she noticed his expression: friendly, compassionate… and warm. Her head pulled back and at once, all her anger slipped off her.
“Nobody is fine all the time,” he said softly. “And you shouldn’t be either. Grant yourself some love by allowing yourself to be hurting.”
Like a warm knife through butter his words pierced all the walls she had put up and hit her right where she was most vulnerable. From one second to the next, hot tears were streaming down her face and she wept freely like she hadn’t wept in years. Jester buried her face in her hands in a fruitless attempt to hide her wretchedness, but the floodgates had been broken open and Jester feared the flow would not abate before her eyes were reddened and abused.
