Take Care – Critical Role • Caduceus Clay, Fjord, Jester Lavorre

[thecrazyalaskan]

Title: Take Care
Author: TheCrazyAlaskan
Fandom / Setting: Critical Role, Campaign II: The Mighty Nein
Characters / Pairings: Fjord, Caduceus Clay, Jester Lavorre
Rating: T
Word Count: 1229
Warnings / Notes: TW: mild emeto? | Written for Round XI of the Hurt / Comfort Bingo: Food Poisoning
Summary: The Mighty Nein makes it a point to look out for one another—sometimes sooner, rather than later.

is it the start of a poly ship? Is it platonic? Who knows not this guy lmao

Fjord awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of retching. It wasn’t the first time, and he doubted it would be the last—until he woke more fully and remembered that he wasn’t sailing, but solidly on terra firma, and that he wasn’t in a hammock in a common sleeping room with a dozen or more sailors, but sharing a double room with their newly initiated to the Nein cleric—

“Caduceus?” He pushed himself up on one elbow, his voice thick with sleep, as he woke more fully. "Y'alright?"

In the darkness, Fjord could see that despite the firbolg's massive height, he'd managed to fold himself nearly in half. One arm was wrapped around his stomach and the other hand loosely gripped the edge of a chamberpot, his forehead inches away from the mattress. In the darkness, Fjord could see that despite the firbolg's massive height, he'd managed to fold himself nearly in half. One arm was wrapped around his stomach and the other hand loosely gripped the edge of a chamberpot, his forehead inches away from the mattress. At the address, he glanced over, his shock of bright pink hair serving as a backdrop for a miserable frown. "I didn't mean to wake you—"

"Don't worry about me," Fjord replied, sitting up fully, one foot on the floor. "You, uhh… You feeling okay?"

"I've…" Caduceus trailed off, finishing with a weak chuckle. "I've felt better."

"What happened?" he asked, pushing back the blankets and moving to stand next to him.

"Stomach cramping, nausea—" Caduceus interrupted his list with a barely suppressed gag, and then a series of deep, steadying breaths. "…and I'm reasonably certain I have a fever."

"'Mere. Let me—" Fjord laid a hand on his forehead, frowning in thought. He was definitely running what he could only assume was warmer than usual for a firbolg. "Can't be a hangover," he mused, withdrawing his hand. "Symptoms ain't right, and you certainly didn't drink enough for it."

"I think it was the food rather than the drink," Caduceus offered.

That certainly tracked. "Yeah, we might have pushed too much new stuff on you for your belly to handle…" The apology was unspoken.

Caduceus didn't reply, taking a series of deeply measured, steadying breaths. At the same time, soft but insistent knocks sounded from the other side of their room's door.

"Oh for—" Fjord lifted his hands as if appealing to some unseen deity or the universe itself. "Just… take it easy for a minute, I'll be back." He paused long enough to, a little stiffly, pat Caduceus' back before opening the door to see Jester, wrapped in a silk robe over a fine linen nightgown, peering up at him. "Jester, it's awful late for social calls."

"Are you okay?" she asked, straightforward to the point of being blunt.

"What makes you think I'm not?" he asked, eyebrow quirked.

Jester pointed to the wall that separated their respective rooms. "We share a wall, and I can hear stuff." Her tone and expression became deeply somber, almost mournful. "Are you puking up seawater again?"

Color touched Fjord's cheeks and the tops of his ears for a moment as he wished to the gods that she didn't remember that. "I'm fine, I promise. It's—" The gag that came from behind him was enough to make him wince in sympathy pain. "Caduceus."

"Oh nooooo—" Jester ducked past Fjord, moving with purpose to sit on the edge of Caduceus' bed. "What happened?"

"Workin' on figurin' that out," Fjord replied, surrendering to the inevitable and closing the door behind her. "Something from last night is disagreein' with him."

"Poor Caduceus, that's awful," Jester cooed, rubbing soft, comforting circles on her fellow cleric's back.

"Thank you for your concern," he replied, managing a thin smile of gratitude. "I'm sure this will pass sooner rather than later."

"Jester, I don't suppose you have anything in your healers' kit that'll make it pass a little more comfortably?" Fjord asked, standing at the foot of the bed.

She shook her head. "No, my kit is all tapped out, I was going to get more supplies in the morning…" A moment of thought before she stood, moving with great purpose. "Let me see what I can find downstairs. I'll be back." Without waiting for confirmation from either of her companions, she all but flounced out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

The pair watched her go for a moment. "She's sweet," Caduceus declared after a moment, his expression soft.

Fjord's expression softened similarly. "Yeah, she's got a good heart." He moved to sit beside Caduceus as well, reaching for the chamberpot. "You gonna be okay if I take this from you for a minute?"

He didn't answer, his expression nauseous; his Adam's apple bobbed almost rhythmically in his throat.

"Trust an old sailor, Caduceus," Fjord offered, almost bracingly, "it's easier if you don't fight it."

The advice couldn't have been better timed. Seemingly as soon as Caduceus stopped fighting the nausea, he lurched forward, finally purging the contents of his stomach. Biting back a soft curse of surprise, Fjord reached over and did the only thing he could think to do in the moment—gathering Caduceus' vivid pink hair in one hand and pulling it back from his face, rubbing his back sympathetically with the other. A part of him remembered his first few days on the sea, how awful it was to adjust to the new, constantly rocking and pitching environment and how many times he'd been sick over the side of a boat…

After a few moments, sputtering and coughing slightly, Caduceus slid the chamberpot away on the bed. "My apologies…"

"What are you apologizin' for?" Fjord asked, taking the chamberpot and moving to empty it. "It ain't like you could help it."

"I'm sure when your group agreed to take me on, they didn't expect to mind me through an illness so soon," Caduceus reasoned.

"Never you mind that." Fjord returned, setting the emptied pot back on the bed in front of him. "We… we take care of our own."

Anything Caduceus might have said in reply was lost as the door opened and Jester returned with a tray containing a small silver teapot and a china cup, her step light.

"Right on time," Fjord complimented. "Thank you, Jester."

"I have tea!" she announced brightly.

"I thought they didn’t have tea?" Fjord asked, remembering the conversation from the night before.

Jester's grin was mischievous as she shimmied her shoulders. "I have my ways—" She sat on the edge of Caduceus' bed, taking a moment to carefully pour a cup of steaming tea before offering it to him. "Here, it's honey lemon—my Mama always said those flavors are good for upset stomach."

He glanced up for a moment, his expression softening at the sight and scent of something so comforting and familiar. "That sounds wonderful, thank you," he murmured, accepting the cup.

"No problem," she replied brightly, a hand resting on his shoulder. "When you're with the Mighty Nein, we take care of you."

Unseen by Jester, a slight smile tugged at the corners of Fjord's mouth. At the same time, Caduceus looked at him with the briefest of aside glances before, for the first time that evening, smiling appreciatively, almost serenely, before he took a sip of the tea. "So I've heard."