for Peter (werewolfing) - Post-Folkmore Exandria AU

[ausgebrannt]

[Caleb opens his eyes back in Exandria. When he fell to sleep, he'd been safe and warm, held in Peter's arms. Where he belongs, where his heart had come to know was where he was meant to be, in any and all worlds. Now though, now he finds himself opening his eyes in a moment that is familiar, but feels distant. The last moment he'd been in Wildemount before he'd found himself snatched away by the Fox and her request that wasn't quite a request so much as a command. It's disorienting, like being dropped into a deep pool of cold water, not entirely sure which way gravity properly existed, no memory of how to breathe like this.

He takes stock almost desperately. Yes, this is his own world. There's a terrible moment where he wonders if all that time in Folkmore had been some incredibly vivid dream. But no, that's wrong. It's impossible. His imagination has never been so talented, and his heart knows all too well that it was real -- the people he'd met there, the things he'd done. Peter. Immediately Caleb reaches for that bond that has kept them in each other's minds, the comforting, warm presence of his lover. 'Peter!' But no answer comes. It feels like the connection is still there, some vague promise that somewhere, across whatever realms and worlds may be, Peter Rumancek is still alive. He looks quickly to the red string around his pinky -- and it's still there, still tied securely, but it trails off into nothing after only a few inches, connected to nothing.

No. No. The frantic sound he nearly chokes on wakes Veth, and she's quick to ask him what's wrong. He tries to explain it, he really does, to Veth, to the others. Again and again. But they don't know what to make of it. They know that Caleb has been here all this time, had he been dreaming? He tries to assure them that no, he hasn't been dreaming, he's been in another world all together, for months, longer. His friends are kind, and they humor him -- or they worry. Caleb knows they're worried. He tries to pick up and move on.

Time passes, and there's a new and somehow deeper sadness in Caleb, a new loss that is fresher than his older regrets and sorrows. He's quieter, and his friends notice him fidgeting with his fingers lost in thought, the small one where that limp invisible red string is wrapped, his ring finger that feels so empty without the simple band that Peter had placed there.

By day, he keeps going. They have important goals to accomplish, things that cannot go neglected. But oh the nights are hard. Cold and empty. Sleep barely comes, and when it does, there are dreams of beautifully blue eyes and a rakish smile, a face that he fears even with his keen mind he might be forgetting. A month passes, longer.

They've returned to Zadash to check in with the Gentleman -- Jester's father, apparently, so there's that -- a sort of returning to their roots, the place they had begun. Caleb is there, physically, but there's still a distance about him, as if his mind is elsewhere. It is, of course. It's chasing his heart, which never did make the trip back to Exandria with him.

They make their way down into the Gentleman's lair, greeted warmly by their crime-boss sometimes-patron. Caleb is silent, lingering in the back of the group as conversation spins up in cheerful catching up.

What the wizard doesn't notice is that his familiar has wandered off, Frumpkin quite certain that he's caught a very familiar scent. The small orange cat seems intent on finding something, on a feline mission with his wizard's best intentions at heart.]

Comments

[ausgebrannt]

[Caleb certainly cannot criticize Peter for it. He's killed his share of people and creatures in his time, will likely kill more. Staying alive is one of those great motivators as those things come. And Caleb is just glad that Peter is here and alive and relatively (physically) well. He can work with anything else, can handle whatever challenge there may be as long as Peter is with him.]

They're very nice boots. But I would believe it. Frumpkin has his forms, though he favors feline. What side effects?

[He can't seem to stop touching him, hands moving from his face to his shoulders, his back, up to catch in the bun he has his hair in before pulling it free so he can sink his fingers into those strands properly.]

We'll have to work on those muscles then, a little more repetition perhaps, with time...

[Caleb leans close to kiss that smile, a brief, chaste, tender touch.]

[werewolfing]

In my world's...mythology, I guess, crows are considered to be like...intermediaries between the dead and the afterlife, I guess. And then Exandria has the Mother of Ravens, maybe they serve a similar purpose here. Either way, seeing wandering spirits is a bit weird, but I'm kinda used to weird at this point. Either way, can't eat spirit bugs, learned by trying.

[ he chuckles about it, so obviously this is one of those things that peter seems to consider acceptable weirdness.

peter's bun unravels beneath caleb's fingers--his hair has grown more than might be expected, and spills to halfway down his shoulderblades. it's still as soft as ever, made a bit wavy by the twist of the bun. ]

Have a feeling that probably won't be a problem when I get to look at your beautiful face all the time.

[ peter returns the kiss, equally as sweetly brief, before gently knocking their foreheads together. ]

How are you really, iubit? You've had your friends, but it's not the same. Didn't seem like any of them really understood, except maybe Caduceus.

[ausgebrannt]

Ah... that is something that would take getting used to.

[There is a moment of anxiety that pulses through their bond, one that Caleb does his best to hide -- and utterly fails. Even tangentially, idea of Peter catching the Raven Queen's attention is a bit nerve-wracking. Caleb has never been one for deities or worship, but he's not a fool. But it's fine. Peter is here and alive and Caleb will not allow for anything else.

Instead he focuses on that soft hair, letting his fingers run through it. It really is so much longer than it had been.

He hesitates at the question.]

It was not the same, no. I... I do not know how much longer I could have gone on. If it weren't for the string around my finger I would have thought I'd gone mad and imagined everything. At my darkest times, I feared that might be true anyway. I've been lost in madness before, perhaps it wasn't so far-fetched an idea.

But mad or not...

[He trails off, unsure if he should be quite so honest, but Peter deserves the truth.]

I could have survived long enough to see the things done that needed to be done, but there is no living for me without you.

[werewolfing]

[ that spike of anxiety makes peter frown slightly, and his thumbs brush across caleb's cheekbones beneath his eyes. ]

What's got you worried, love? In a world this full of magic, I'm not surprised that I get some extra weirdness on top of my regular eccentricities. If me existing pissed off the Mother of Ravens I'm sure she'd have found a way to let me know.

[ caleb's confession about going mad isn't surprising, but it's still worrying. tilting his chin up, peter kisses caleb's forehead, then the tip of his nose, and then presses their mouths together softly. ]

We've both been lost in madness before, iubit. And we've healed. We'll heal again. The only reason I'm not completely 'round the twist is because I've got a bit more faith in providence than you do. Or just too shit-stubborn to believe I'd end up somewhere you didn't show up eventually.

[ausgebrannt]

[Caleb is so intensely weak to that touch. A breath and he nods just slightly, barely a movement at all.]

Ja, I suppose that is true, she likely would have. I would just prefer the Raven Queen not take notice of my love when I finally have him back in my arms.

[If Peter is taken from him now, Caleb Widogast would likely make what the Briarwoods did look quaint.

He shuts his eyes at the kiss to his forehead, not opening them even when those lips find his and he leans in to return the kiss soft and tender but no less desperate for all its gentleness.]

We'll heal again. [Caleb echoes softly.] I think I have already begun. The world has been so cold. It feels warmer now.

[werewolfing]

Darling, since I come back from death without any divine interference, I don't think we have anything to worry about. We'll have to warn your friends, though--I don't want any gods involved if it happens.

I'll never leave you, iubit, don't be afraid.

[ now that peter has knives as well as a very deadly lupine bite, thingws aren't likely to go well if caleb was ever taken either, so it all balances out in his mind. ]

It does. More warm and colorful with my pretty flame beside me again. Which reminds me.

[ peter slides his hands around caleb's head and fiddles with something for a moment before taking caleb's left hand and sliding a warm band of metal around his ring finger. he cradles it in his palm, smiling softly. ]

There. That's much better.

[ausgebrannt]

[Caleb nods. There's reason in what Peter says, of course. It won't stop Caleb from worrying about it, mind, but he'll try to worry at least a little less. And that reassurance, he would take it for a promise.]

I'm am always afraid, Schätzchen. I am a coward. But I believe you.

[His dangerous wolf with these new blades and new scars.

Caleb goes still as as his hand is taken, as that ring is slipped back onto his finger, back where it belongs. He releases the breath that had caught in his lungs and smiles. The newly beringed hand lifts to cradle at the side of Peter's face as he leans in to kiss him, chaste and sweet but repeated, again and again.]

So much better, ja.

[werewolfing]

Being afraid doesn't make you a coward, it makes you smart. The world's a dangerous place. But there's a difference between being afraid and living in fear, and you don't do the second one. Even being from two different universes couldn't keep us apart, and that's bugfuck nuts impossible when you think about it.

[ peter returns those sweet little kisses, mouth curved in a gentle smile. ]

Good. Didn't look right on my hand anymore, now it's back where it should be.

[ with a little sigh that sounds like reluctance, peter maneuvers them both to lie down, caleb still draped over his chest. ]

Don't know about you, but it's been months since I've had a good sleep.

[ausgebrannt]

Entirely impossible. But here you are. Here we are.

[The universe -- a notoriously unkind place that did not care about fairness or suffering -- had been kind in this. Caleb could not question it. Would not. If there was a price to pay for having Peter back in his arms, he would pay it without hesitation.

He settles in, comfortable and familiar the way that he drapes over Peter, rests his head against his chest, arm slung across him. Fingers found their habitual absentminded tracing over that warm skin, inscribing absentminded sigils and runes in their passing, moving over familiar angles and unfamiliar scars.]

The nights have been the longest things. Sleep, Schätzchen. You deserve the rest.

[werewolfing]

You too, lovely. And we're gonna feed you up, I can feel your ribs again.

[ his voice is non-judgmental and drowsy, one arm pulling caleb closer to settle just like he should as peter pulls the blanket over them. the nein will just have to get used to peter being naked if anyone decides to barge in. ]

Love you, iubit. Now sleep.

[ he whispers the words into caleb's hair, filling his nose with the scent of fire and ink and--he realizes now, with exposure--magic that relaxes him beyond all reason. ]

[ausgebrannt]

Mmhmm. And I'm not the only one.

[But they could take care of that. They both were better at caring for each other than themselves. For the first time in months, Caleb felt like he could actually rest, felt safe and whole.]

I love you too.

[And Caleb, Caleb can hear Peter's heartbeat, can feel the subtle rise and fall of his chest with each breath and it is the most beautiful lullaby he has ever heard.]