In true Mighty Nein fashion, he'd informed Wensforth of his impending arrival about ten seconds before he actually arrived. But the goblin, busy with his own tasks, had little to say beyond that he would find his master in the sitting room at this hour, and Caleb no longer needs help to be let out of the teleportation chamber. The sitting room is one he knows very well how to find, and is almost always unlocked. Such is the case today. But when he enters, the sitting room is quiet, awash in the red-orange-gold of a Nicodranas sunset spilling in from the open balcony. But Yussa is present. He's draped over a chaise on the far side of the room near the balcony doors, eyes closed and pose reminiscent of sleep. As Caleb comes closer, he can tell from his measured, even breathing and the serene expression on his face that he is trancing.
Though his robes are lighter weight and more casual than his normal attire--an outfit for relaxation rather than having company, Caleb concludes--they are still ornate and beautiful, spilling across the chaise and arranged artfully around Yussa's slender form. He is stunning to behold even like this, and Caleb lowers himself to sit on the edge of the lounge, reaching out to brush a few soft white curls from his face with a tender caress that lingers to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. With similar affection, Caleb leans over him to kiss his forehead, then the soft crow's feet at the corner of his eye, and then his lips directly.
Though his lips are familiar, it is unlike any other kiss they have shared, as it is entirely one-sided. Yussa's mouth is soft and pliant and opens without resistance as Caleb presses his tongue inside, feeling an illicit thrill as he does so. It lasts only long enough for Caleb to taste his warmth and the familiar spice of the tea he prefers, but the thrill lingers, tingling across Caleb's skin and making his heart beat faster in his chest.
He withdraws only far enough to lay his hand against the dip of Yussa's waist, thumb rubbing back and forth against the smooth fabric thoughtfully. They had a conversation once--a rather dirty conversation, in the midst of doing something rather dirty--that sticks out now in Caleb's mind, as Yussa had strongly indicated that he was intrigued by the idea of sex during his trance, while he would be aware of what is happening and able to enjoy it, but unable to reciprocate, leaving his partner--Caleb specifically, in the context of their discussion--free to enjoy him however he might please.
The idea was arousing then, and it is even more so now, when the opportunity to test this theory of theirs has presented itself. Caleb's teeth scrape across his bottom lip. He traces the silk sash around Yussa's waist until he finds the knot holding it in place and begins to pick it apart with careful, dexterous fingers.
"I am going to take a few liberties with you today, my friend," he murmurs, leaning down far enough for his lips brush the pointed tip of Yussa's ear. "But I think you will like that. And I assume that if you do not, you will wake and tell me so."
By now, Caleb Widogast has proven himself a worthy colleague and, indeed, a friend. While Yussa still maintains considerable control over the comings and goings of others in or around his tower, the Zemnian wizard has gained the key out of the teleportation room and Yussa's leave to use rooms he can access. Caleb will certainly know when something is off limits, if he can find it at all.
Yussa has worked for the better part of the day; in the fading afternoon, he'd settled down to trance, relaxed among his cushions on the wide chaise. There's the faintest flicker of awareness that someone else is present, but the question of who is soon enough answered by familiar touch and a familiar scent. The kiss feels different, but not at all unpleasant. His lips part beneath the pressure of Caleb's and it's strange to be so passive, yet utterly aware. It feels good when Caleb's tongue sweeps into his mouth, but it is all too brief. Given the relative safety of his tower and the company, Yussa doesn't feel particularly compelled to cut his trance short. Caleb can certainly entertain himself for another hour or two.
Of course, he isn't expecting that he will be part of the entertainment, but he is faintly aware of the light tug and pull of his sash being untied. And then that warm, familiar voice drips wickedness in his ear and Yussa's body responds with a rush of arousal. He feels it like a warm ripple. Oh.
No, he doesn't think he will be waking any time soon. He's far too interested in seeing where this goes.
Once Caleb has untied the sash he lets the ends drape loose across the lounge in favor of peeling back Yussa's robe to reveal the layer beneath it. His attire today is much simpler than usual, as Caleb would not normally find his tunic and trousers (the bottommost layer of clothing, usually) until he's removed several over- and under-robes in various weights and lengths and fabrics and undone at least six hidden ties and clasps--he's counted several times. Elven wizards, he has concluded, love their complicated fashions, and he cannot blame them for it when they always look so good.
But this is Yussa at his most relaxed, and again he is reminded that he is only able to see this, to do this, because Yussa trusts him enough to permit it. The rush of fondness that comes with that thought demands that he bend to kiss him again, even if Yussa can't reciprocate. But Caleb enjoys the softness of his lips anyway, parts them again to kiss him deeper as his fingers make quick work of the gold buttons holding the front of his linen tunic closed.
When Caleb slowly breaks their kiss--his kiss, really--and opens this layer, there is nothing at all beneath but the beautiful brown skin of Yussa's torso. His thin chest rises and falls gently with the measured breathing of his trance and the sunset lights him beautifully, deepening the color of his already warm-toned skin. With him laying mostly on his back it is easy for Caleb to skim his fingers lightly, reverently in a line from his clavicle all the way down to his navel, between the soft points of his pert breasts, comfortably unbound today.
"Gorgeous," he says aloud, voice hushed despite being the only other person in the room--likely the only other person for a dozen floors. "You never fail to take my breath away."
Intellectually he is aware that Yussa can hear and understand him, but it's also much easier to let his mouth run while the other wizard cannot respond.
Reluctantly, he lifts his hand from where it rests low on Yussa's stomach to start removing his own clothing, perfunctory and methodical. He sheds his coat, boots, book holster, component pouch, socks, belt, and finally his shirt, leaving him in only his trousers. All wind up on or near the closest chair. Caleb is wearing less than Yussa by the time he returns to him, but that won't last long, as the first thing he does when he kneels over him is begin to slide his soft pants off his hips and down his legs, movements slow and careful, as if Yussa really was asleep.
He can feel the fondness in Caleb's kiss, or maybe it's in the way the other man touches him. The air in the room is fresh and warm, windows left open to allow the breeze off the sea through. Yussa can feel it against his skin as fabric falls away, leaving him bare to Caleb's eyes and hands. There's a faint rush of goosebumps that rise and fade again, though his dark nipples remain quite firm. He's liked the way Caleb touches him from the start, and even now there is something exciting in the light caress down the middle of his torso. His breathing remains deep and even, his trance undisturbed.
Caleb's voice is warm in his mind, filling his awareness in a different way without the usual rush of consciousness and all the thoughts that come with it. All there is now is his voice, his touch. Yussa would like to think he's beyond needing or desiring praise, but Caleb is always so free with it. He finds it rather endearing.
He can hear the rustle of fabric and all the familiar sounds of Caleb undressing. Yussa lets himself see that in his mind's eye, built from memory, since he is unwilling to wake enough to see the reality for himself. Not yet. The pale skin, the faint freckles, the human ruggedness he's teased Caleb about before.
Another rush of chills races across his skin as the other man draws his trousers off, the fabric brushing down his legs in a way that tantalizes. The care Caleb takes is achingly familiar, and Yussa is pleased he's come to visit. He will have to make that exceedingly clear later.
Yussa Errenis rarely leaves Tidepeak, and when he does, his comings and goings are seldom noticed by anyone save Wensforth. And so there is no fanfare or acknowledgement when the archmage returns from a month-long excursion and disappears back into his workshop and study.
Despite his age, Yussa still harbors a childlike glee when he has something new to play with, regardless of how dangerous or unknown it might be. These are just new spell components, though, and he isn't worried that he is going to run into something he can't safely contain. And he's hardly stepping into an extra-dimensional stronghold also known as the archmage's bane. He's working in his own tower and does not intend to leave it again any time soon.
Still, perhaps there was some hubris - or simply oversight due to habit - in not completely investigating the nature of some of the components he's collected. After an unexpected reaction produces sweet-smelling smoke that nearly fills the room, Yussa has every window in the workshop open to air it out. As far as he can tell there is no residue on anything and the smoke clears without any immediate, lingering effects. Well, that had been some unexpected excitement. He makes a note of it in the book he has open on one of the workbenches, marking the exact measurements and combinations that produced the effect.
It takes nearly twenty minutes for the effect of the smoke to actually hit. Long after the ocean breeze has cleared the room, Yussa feels a fever come on rapidly. But it isn't just a fever. The archmage of Tidepeak finds himself gripping the edge of a workbench to stay upright as his knees weaken. A flood of arousal sweeps through him, leaving him breathless. Oh.
And it is nearly twenty minutes more after that before Yussa will hear a familiar voice in his mind. Caleb Widogast, cozily ensconced in the tiny workshop of his small Rexxentrum home, weaves his fingers through the air in the somatic components for Sending and speaks aloud, the rise and fall of his accented voice gentle and warm.
"Yussa," he Sends, more than comfortable on a first-name basis with the archmage when he isn't trying to make a point, "I know that you were meant to return from your excursion today. Just wanting to make certain you are home safe. With respect, Caleb."
The Nein going their separate ways had made learning the spell himself a necessity. While he may not have Jester's flare or particular Sending idiosyncrasies, he has his own particular style. He likes to format it like a letter, for one, including a greeting and signing off, when has the words to do so. And from Jester he has learned the value of utilizing every word, so his messages rarely have less than twenty-five.
Closing the book he'd been perusing, Caleb rolls up his sleeves as he listens for Yussa's response, preparing to pull out the stack of paper with his notes on a new spell now that he finally has some time to himself today. Checking in on Yussa is a precaution, given his friend's history with journeys in pursuit of magical curiosities. He hopes he doesn't find it insulting, but it is done only out of love. Caleb would prefer to ruffle Yussa's feathers a little if it means he doesn't have to worry about the possibility of leaving someone he cares about alone and in danger.
Yussa gasps to hear that voice in his ear. Perhaps he might have been mildly annoyed or amused by the message were he in any other state. As it is, Caleb's voice has a very unintended effect. He rests his brow against his arm where he's crumpled over the table, unable or unwilling to move.
At first, all Caleb will get in response is heavy, somewhat ragged breathing as Yussa struggles to compose himself enough to speak. He can't think through this fog. He could just leave it at that, he could choose not to respond and contact Caleb when he has... figured this out. But another wave of warmth rolls through him and his decision is made before he can fully think it through.
"Come here. Now."
Normally he might try to be more cordial, but that is the best he can manage and Yussa feels some accomplishment in getting the words out at all. He realizes that given the strained nature of his voice and the roughness in his breathing that he might have just given Caleb cause to worry. Perhaps it will get him here faster and, when he can manage to put more than a few words together, he will apologize.
Yussa left an open invitation for Caleb to study the Heirloom Sphere with him, if he wished to. At the time, it was to avoid any pressure to give up the artifact. It was also, perhaps, a lure to entice Caleb Widogast back. They have since worked together with a relative frequency, but this is their first time back inside the Halls in some time.
One of the first orders of business was an attempt to adjust the passage of time within the Halls to be closer to that on the Material Plane. But, just in case, Yussa left behind two sending stones for Wensforth: one able to contact Allura, and one able to directly contact someone Caleb trusts. They also left more simple methods to contact Beau and Yasha, if necessary.
Yussa spreads out the map in the study, which is still empty but for the three books he left behind. For the sake of exploring, he's dressed relatively simply - it's possibly the most of his silhouette Caleb has ever seen while Yussa is fully dressed: sensible breeches, a tunic that falls to his mid-thigh and a slightly longer one over that. A component pouch sits on a belt at his hip.
He leans over the map, carefully taking notes and adding to the map: they'd just found their way back here from the Carving Farm by way of the Dining Hall. He supposes it should not be a surprise that those two rooms are connected, one meant to provide food and the other meant for dining. Certainly not the most disturbing places either of them have been in here.
He stands straighter, studying the new connection lines.
"How long have we been at it?" he asks absently. Caleb has a better grasp on passing time in general than Yussa does. He suspects it may be a decent idea to find somewhere to rest for a while and he studies possible routes to the guest chambers. He hasn't explored those yet and, as far as he knows, neither did the Nein.
Since the link between the Tapestry Entrance and the study is out until they can figure out how to repair it, it's made a few detours necessary. Caleb had never visited the Dining Hall or the Carving Farm before though, so there was still plenty for him to take in. Every room in this extraplanar maze holds something either fascinating or horrifying. Often both.
Of course, being forced by the destruction of the red door to take the black door to get out of the Tapestry Entrance had forced them into combat almost immediately with the mysterious wailing creature the Nein had previously avoided. That thing was pretty fucked, but Caleb had concluded quickly that they could save themselves a lot of pain by blocking out the sound of its cries, and cast Deafness on both himself and Yussa. It still hadn't been an enjoyable fight, but between the two of them they'd put the thing down, and now it is one less thing that could try to kill them in the future.
"A little more than four hours," Caleb answers without looking up from the map. He's tracing the known paths between the rooms branching off from the study, then the ones beyond. It's both exciting and intimidating to know that all they've discovered so far is likely only a small percentage of the Folding Halls. There is so much more to see--and no doubt much more danger to uncover.
"Assuming we want to go off map and do some exploring, I would suggest we see what else branches off from the Diamond Entrance," he says, glancing up to catch Yussa's eye without moving away from the map. "I also have a hunch that there must be another route from the bedroom, probably well hidden. That it only connects here and the Fleshmend Facility seems off."
Caleb too is dressed for adventuring, but unlike Yussa, that doesn't mean a dramatic change from his usual attire. Just the addition of his elven chainmail beneath his sweater, really.
"No, I'm quite certain the bedroom has multiple ins and outs," he says almost absently as his fingers trace the room in question. On the one hand, a direct way in and out is far easier to guard, but also far more difficult to escape. Surely Halas had other ways of doing so, fail-safes and traps like they've run into elsewhere.
He looks at the Diamond Entrance when Caleb mentions it.
"Perhaps it's best we back track and then go forward. Back to the dining hall, then take the known route to the guest chambers and then the Diamond Entrance." He traces the lines along the map as he speaks. "Hm, or we can go from here to the garden."
The garden has its risks, but as long as they don't dally or start throwing around spells unnecessarily, they should be fine. It's the most direct route.
In the chilly fall of the year, Yussa Errenis finds himself in a place he has not been in a very long time: the heart of the Empire.
Caleb has often visited him in Nicodranas, and while Yussa has been perfectly content to stay in his tower - as he often is - he's recently felt an itch to travel again. Not ready or just uninterested in another grand adventure alone, he decides it is time that he see the reality of the life Caleb lives, the one that he hears about often enough but has little context for beyond decades-old memories.
So, he arrives in Rexxentrum and goes immediately to the Soltryce Academy, hooded and cloaked against the cold but bright day. Upon setting foot on the grounds, he disguises himself. Nothing drastic, but there are still those here he would not care to run into. Besides, he feels he would draw too much attention looking like himself while doing what he plans to do.
When he pushes his hood back, Yussa appears as a young, pale half-elf with dark hair and gray eyes. He confirms his destination by asking a passing student for directions, and as the wind blusters through the grounds of the academy, Yussa slips into the very back of the large lecture hall where Caleb Widogast is preparing to begin class. Yussa observes with quiet admiration and mild amusement. It does not surprise him that Caleb is--not informal, but he's a personable teacher and an informative but entertaining lecturer.
During a break in class, Yussa slips out with other students and makes his way through familiar halls. It isn't difficult to find Caleb's office, nor is it difficult to let himself in. He finds that amusing. Yussa drops his disguise as a student comes down the hall, startling them.
"Please tell Master Widogast that he has a guest when he has finished his lecture," he says before he slips into the office and closes the door behind him.
When Caleb is informed by a student after his lecture that he has a guest waiting for him in his office, one who has apparently just let themself in, he assumes it must be one of the Nein. Few others would be so presumptuous. But when he asked whether his guest left a name, he is told no and given a rather perplexing description: an elven man with brown skin and short pale hair, well-dressed and rather petite, but with a commanding presence. Of course, Caleb knows someone who fits that description to a t, but has trouble believing he would be here, especially without a word.
In fact, he is convinced it must be some odd coincidence right up to the point where he opens his office door and finds none other than Yussa Errenis waiting for him. He draws up short right where he is in his own doorway. More than surprised, he's utterly mystified.
"Master Errenis," he greets. "This is a very unexpected pleasure." Beyond their forays into the Folding Halls, Caleb has never actually seen Yussa outside of Tidepeak Tower. To suddenly find him in his office feels rather like being confronted by a tropical bird in Eiselcross.
Though Caleb is glad to see him, the strangeness of the situation has him on his back foot--and deeply curious. Stepping inside, he closes the door again behind him and deposits the stack of papers he is carrying beneath his arm on his desk. "What has brought you to Rexxentrum today, my friend?"
His office is small and a bit cluttered, but gets good light from two large windows, especially around this time of day. He keeps nothing especially important here, preferring as he always has to carry items of any consequence on his person for safe-keeping, typically in his amber vault. The space is decorated eclectically, with the single unifying theme being cats.
There are cats everywhere. Little cat-shaped statuettes in all shapes, sizes, and materials, from wood to stone to yarn, can be seen on his desk, on bookshelves, on windowsills. There are a variety of hand-drawn cats on display as well, with notes and signatures indicating that they'd been gifted to him by students. In fact, students are the source of all of his cats apart from the trio of lucky figurines he'd acquired in Xhorhas, which are lined up on his desk, each with one paw raised. His love of cats is well known, and his collection has seemed to grow itself. Though he has been teaching for nearly two years now, it still surprises and touches him when students gift him these small tokens, often accompanied by messages of gratitude. He keeps and displays them all.
Yussa has entertained himself with perusing Caleb's book cases. At first he was more interested in the titles, but eventually his attention shifted to the little cats all over the room. He's inspected several of them by the time Caleb opens the door, and he's still holding one: a lovely wooden cat painted calico. Hi golden eyes are warm and only they give away that he is hiding a smile.
"Of course it is."
Unexpected, and a pleasure. Yussa is known for his reticence to go anywhere, for his tendency to be hermitical. He looks pleased that he's put his younger colleague on the back foot. He moves closer to the desk and sets the calico cat down before folding his hands beneath his cloak.
"Oh, well. I was passing the teleportation room and thought I might take you up on your invitation," he says lightly. Caleb made that invitation quite some time ago now, a passing remark that Yussa would be welcome should he ever decide to come north. Perhaps it was made with the knowledge that Yussa rarely leaves Tidepeak, but he doesn't think Caleb was disingenuous in the offer.
Besides, the Nein used his home - his personal residence - as a travel hub more than once, and since he has made his welcome clear to Caleb, the other man has not hesitated to visit both on whims and with invitation. The only difference is that Yussa could not directly teleport to Caleb's house: he hasn't seen it.
Yussa stays several more days at his home in Rexxentrum, departing on Yulisen morning as Caleb prepares to head to campus for a full day of classes. It was a wonderful long weekend. Yussa is a gracious guest, and friendly with his cats. Having company to fill his quiet home is always nice, but the brand-new experience of sharing his hearth and bed with a lover is an indulgence Caleb falls for quickly. Newly empowered to express his wants openly, he tells Yussa that he hopes he'll stay again. Yussa says that he will. With that agreed, the intervening few days until Caleb must visit Tidepeak to collect the archmage's insisted-upon gift of an outfit for the Academy's gala pass with less loneliness than they might have otherwise.
As agreed, Caleb arrives at five o'clock Rexxentrum time, two hours before the event is to begin. That will give him plenty of time to dress and to spend a short while with Yussa before he goes. It won't matter if he is a little late to the party. In fact, he would prefer to be. He arrives well groomed, but in plain clothes, expecting that Yussa will want him to get ready here so that he may see the result.
After exiting the familiar stone teleportation chamber, Caleb makes his way down toward Yussa's sitting room. He can hear voices drifting up the winding tower stair, which is not unusual. One, naturally, is Yussa's. But the other is decidedly not Wensforth. After descending a few more steps to the next landing, Caleb pauses to listen, curious. The second voice is crisp but kind, low and feminine with a cultured Tal'Dorei accent. Familiar. It takes Caleb only a moment to place it in his memory: Arcanist Allura Vysoren. That makes sense. She and Yussa are friends. Why shouldn't she visit occasionally outside her role as his designated emergency contact?
For a moment, Caleb is too thrilled by the opportunity to remind the woman of his existence to listen very carefully to what is being said. Vysoren is a wizard he greatly admires yet rarely has opportunity to cross paths with, even after being briefly entrusted with her own staff of power (and returning it quite some time ago, sadly).
But before he goes bounding down the stairs to interrupt them, he does take a moment to assess what he would be walking in on. It's clear he's arrived in the middle of an ongoing conversation--one spanning years of their acquaintance, perhaps--so it takes him a moment to understand what is being spoken of. When he does, he's glad he'd chosen discretion. This topic is...intriguing, to say the least, particularly where it concerns his lover, the fellow wizard he has come to care for so deeply, despite his reservations about their kind.
Breathing lightly, Caleb remains where he is for now, hand against the curved stone wall of the tower, ears open. He is no Veth Brenatto, but he can be stealthy when he needs to.
"I am certain you have tracked the celestial bodies as all of us have. With a solstice likely, we need all hands to the pump, as it were."
There's a brief silence after Allura's remark. Yussa lifts a brow, then his tea. He takes a sip, allowing himself space to respond. Though Allura Vysoren is one of the few people he welcomes as unexpected company, this conversation is not new, neither is it the first time she has brought up the concerns of the Arcana Pansophical. It is, however, the first time she has brought up the potential of an apogee solstice.
"As flattered as I am - as I ever am - you do not really wish me as a full member, Allura. And even if you and Ryn do, there are yet others who do not."
"Since when do you shy from ruffling feathers in the name of progress?"
"It is not about feathers, Allura. Nor is it even about trust. I do not wish to join the ranks." There's a faint rustle of fabric as Yussa moves. He doesn't pace, but he drifts from his seat to a window overlooking an interior courtyard. "I don't always agree with your methods, nor you with mine, even if many of our aims move in the same direction. It is better to leave that out of a governing body, even one so loose and invisible as the Pansophical."
"We are not a governing body," Allura mutters, sounding as though this is a long-standing disagreement. She sighs. "Yussa--"
A pause between them, an old stalemate. The sound of a fountain filters through the room and out into the open corridor. Yussa sets his tea down and meets his friend's gaze. She narrows her eyes at him.
"What are you planning?" she asks, suddenly suspicious. "Yussa Erennis, if you are--"
"If I am what?" he cuts her off, sharper than he had been a moment ago. "Mind what you accuse me of, Master Vysoren, as I am entirely certain the members of the Pansophical are not idle in this matter."
From the sound of it, Allura has been attempting to convince Yussa to become a member of the Pansophical for years, while Yussa consistently declines due to...creative differences. Caleb is under no illusions as to where Yussa's preferred methods may differ from the Pansophical's. He has seen first-hand the way Yussa prefers to work, and the solutions he posits for the problems they face; Caleb is the only collaborator he's permitted in years. He can imagine an organization like the Pansophical--or any organization, for that matter--chafing at such a fiercely independent man as Yussa Errenis. As he has told Caleb before, there are reasons he prefers to remain officially unaffiliated.
But as much as he has come to know Yussa better than most ever will, there is yet so much more that he does not know. He goes still as stone where he stands as he hears the suspicion in Allura's voice. While she would not befriend the man if she thought him capable of anything truly dangerous (to anyone but himself, at least) and Caleb certainly wouldn't either, she clearly doesn't trust that he isn't going to do something the Pansophical would disagree with. Caleb both bristles on Yussa's behalf and briefly feels a little sick to his stomach.
As a professor at the Soltryce Academy, one of the top institutions for arcane learning in Exandria, it would be impossible not to have heard the rumors about the upcoming solstice. Years away still, but already there are wizards making plans; as they should, if they are to attempt great works that need further study and development beforehand. Caleb has heard still more about this phenomenon from Essek, who has taken to studying leylines again. He has yet to discuss it with Yussa at all, however, which now strikes him as somewhat strange.
He should go down soon, he knows. The longer he remains here, the more likely it is he'll be noticed. Just another minute. He wants to hear how this shakes out.
There is a good reason for Caleb to arrive alone in Nicodranas the night before he'd told anyone else he would be there. That reason is: all of his friends are getting laid, and while Caleb is happy for them, he is also a little frustrated. He hates that envy sours his fond feelings when he thinks of them all living freely with their sweethearts, but it curdles in his gut all the same, subtle but present.
It is twenty-seven minutes past midnight when he lets himself out of Tidepeak Tower's teleportation chamber. He and the Nein were rather rushed the last time he came through here, and the hour was even later, so there was no opportunity to see the master of the tower. Tonight, he is here specifically for that purpose.
Fishing out his copper wire, he points in the direction he expects to find Yussa's bedroom, a chamber he has had the good fortune to see several times now. The tower stair is dark, lit only by Catha's silvery light seeping in through the handful of windows he can see from this landing. With no sign of Wensforth, he feels quite alone.
"Are you asleep?" he Messages, his voice low and warm, barely above a whisper into the archmage's mind. His heart pounds harder in his chest with nervous excitement. He hesitates a moment, then asks boldly, "Can I do whatever I want?"
Based on the endearingly grouchy response Jester had quoted for them last time, Caleb's question is half teasing, but that also makes it half serious. His fingers toy with the wire between them as he waits for a response. He and Yussa have indulged in that sort of play once before, with positive reviews on both sides, so Caleb isn't especially worried about that aspect. But this is a surprise visit, and there remains the possibility that Yussa isn't in the mood for it, or for sex or Caleb's company in general.
Still, Yussa has never refused to meet with Caleb when he is alone; only when he is present as a part of a larger group. While Yussa has entertained the Nein as a whole several times, Caleb understands completely his reticence to do it on a regular basis. All the better for him, when getting to know Yussa on his own has earned him a relationship with the older wizard where he can do things like this and feel confident he won't be ejected from the tower for his audacity. In fact, Yussa often rewards him for being daring.
This is a far cry from the comfortable, consistent sex life his friends share in their relationships, but Caleb was never going to find that anyway. What he shares with Yussa is not regular, nor has he told anyone about it, but it is wonderful; exciting, stimulating, intimate. He knows he is not imagining Yussa's affection for him, and certainly not his own for Yussa, even if it cannot be named or neatly boxed. He is incredibly lucky.
Trusted and desired, Yussa has welcomed him into his bed even when he is at his most vulnerable. Caleb feels confident that he will do so again tonight.
Yussa feels the flicker of arcane energy that makes him tense--until he hears a far more welcome voice in his ear. Jester is sweet and she is, in her way, endearing. But she is also grating, inappropriate, and forgets boundaries as soon as she learns them. Caleb Widogast, however, has never displayed any of those traits. Well... perhaps he's been inappropriate, but that has been at Yussa's invitation.
Amusement draws a faint smile to his lips when he hears the questions, an echo of his flippant and somewhat annoyed response to a certain blue tiefling not very long ago. He'd been certain of Caleb's presence when an entire ship's crew passed through his house, but he had not been exaggerating his condition, or his lack of care at the time. Instead of a half-considered warning, he has a warm, tantalizing proposition in his lover's voice. He enjoys his time with Caleb, whether they are working through arcane mysteries and theory or--well. Abusing half the furniture in Tidepeak.
He waits to answer just long enough, finding the balance between building the younger man's anticipation and the spell's end. There's only a soft hm in answer, but the message also catches the sound of a door opening - a sound echoed in the stairway where Caleb waits.
Yussa glances around the room, considering in the time he has before Caleb's inevitable arrival. Catha's light pours in through open windows and the lattice behind the bed, but perhaps... a little more, for the human's sake. He makes a quick gesture and a few small globes around the room flicker to life with low, cool light. Yussa takes a sip of the tea that's gone cold on his nightstand, then relaxes back into his bed.
A soft hum, the sound of a door. Caleb exhales. He knows what an invitation sounds like.
He travels up the stairs with an effort put toward being quiet, as though Yussa really might be asleep. As he suspected, the door to Yussa's bedroom is slightly ajar. He pushes it open just enough for him to slip in and closes it behind him.
This room, too is awash in moonlight, cut through with the lattice's shadow. But there are a few other magelights glowing as well, which he assumes must be for his benefit. He knows Yussa doesn't sleep with them on. The man himself looks comfortable on his back in the middle of his bed, an arm draped across his middle. A long white nightgown that Caleb knows will be soft to the touch covers his warm brown skin, except where the buttons have been undone over his throat and down his chest. He is resting, but it is impossible to tell from here whether that means trancing or (feigned) sleep.
Tempting as it is to go to him at once, Caleb stops by the foot of the bed and begins to undress himself first. He makes no sound but the rustle of fabric or the occasional metallic scrape of a buckle releasing, muting himself for Yussa's sake, for the sake of this game. He strips all the way down to his smallclothes, which he doesn't intend to keep on for long either.
The scene before him, his lover dozing peacefully in the moonlight, is so idyllic that for a moment Caleb seriously considers abandoning his plans to instead curl up close to Yussa and join him in sleep. But he has set an expectation now, and Yussa's soft, relaxed state is appealing in other ways also.
Caleb merely sits on the edge of the bed at first. He is turned toward Yussa, but not quite touching him, a leg folded on the bed and the other foot still touching the floor. "Thank you for letting me in," he murmurs, voice almost quieter than when he'd Messaged. He doesn't expect a response. "Sorry about last time. I have been thinking about you since. Wanting to come back to make it up to you."
He touches the inside of Yussa's knee, a brush of fingertips where the hem of his long nightgown has slid up to pool there.
"I suppose you do not need to be awake for that. I would not wish to disturb you, after all."
Yussa leads the way up the dark, spiralling stair at Tidepeak Tower's center, his shimmering robes trailing several steps behind him. Caleb follows, leaving the brightly-lit sitting room and the jovial voices of his friends behind, for now. Before he is compeletely out of range, he pulls out his copper wire and mutters a Message to Veth.
"I am going to talk with Yussa for a little while. Do not leave without me. You can reply to this message."
Her response is swift.
"Roger, Lebby. We did save the world and him, so I hope he gives you some cool shit. You deserve it!"
A smile flickers over Caleb's lips, but he doesn't Message further. He turns his face up toward Yussa's back again, noting the landings and doors he doesn't lead him through as they pass.
He has been itching all evening for a chance to speak alone with the older wizard for a number of reasons, the most important of which is to ask how he he is doing. His mood has been warm since they arrived, thanking them for their aid and welcoming them to make merry in his home this evening, but Caleb knows better than most of them what Yussa has been through. It must have been harrowing, and it has been only a little more than a week since he Banished him back to this plane. That isn't a lot of time, in the grand scheme of things, to even begin recovering from such an event.
Less important, but still important to him, is the matter of--well, a more personal nature. Months have now passed, but there has never been the chance to follow up on what occurred between them just before the peace talks. The Nein have been busy, and visits to Tidepeak have been brief, or focused on more pressing matters. He has missed the handful of sunny aftenoons and golden evenings spent copying spells and working through his own drafts in this tower. Understandably, the last one in particular stands out in his memory. He's thought of it often.
At last, they come to a landing where Yussa pauses. Caleb doesn't recognize the door he ushers him through, but follows all the same.
Yussa doesn't mind hosting the Nein - they have accomplished a great thing at no small cost. But he is just as content to leave them to their loud, raucous celebration in a large, open sitting room as Caleb joins him somewhere quieter.
He hears the message sent as they climb the stairs, though he does not hear the reply.
A door opens on a landing and Yussa slips out onto a long, covered balcony. There are comfortable places to sit and to lounge, a few lanterns lit, and a bottle of wine waiting for them. The sea breeze is warm and pleasant, and the sky beyond Nicodranas is filled with stars.
"I hope this is to your liking," he says, his quiet voice carrying much better now that he isn't competing with Jester, Beau, or Veth. Yussa gestures at the seating options before settling on a low couch.
Despite glimpsing multiple ever-shifting balconies on this tower from the outside, Caleb is not expecting to be led onto one of them, and the ocean breeze takes him by surprise. The view over the city below, and the starlit ocean beyond it, is breathtaking, and the balcony itself is beautiful. Caleb trails wide-eyed behind his host, taking in everything with a look just shy of wonder.
The alcove Yussa guides him to is elegant and comfortable in the way that has become characteristic of Tidepeak to Caleb, adhering to Yussa's personal aesthetic while still existing as a space to be lived in. He admires that; it is the same principal with which he had created his own tower.
"Ja, absolutely," he answers quickly, also much easier to hear now that his friends aren't drowning him out. "I did not expect--ah, any of this. Thank you."
Yussa sweeps into a place on the low couch. Caleb deliberates a moment before choosing to sit beside him, hoping that isn't too presumptuous. There is a little space between them, even facing each other.
Licking dry lips and resting his hands on his knees, Caleb nods toward the vista of a sleepy seaside city displayed below. "This is an incredible view."
Caleb is known at the Lavish Chateau. He nods to Carlos at the bar, greets Bluud by the stair and is allowed to pass up to the second floor without anyone questioning his presence, even in Jester's absence. Being here without her is a little strange, to be sure. He wonders if it's the staff's familiarity with him that lends him his perceived credibility, or if they've been informed that he is here to see someone. Yussa arranged the room. Who was it necessary to inform? Does Marion know? The idea brings a flush to his face as he moves with intent down the hallway toward the last door on the left.
Thankfully, he does not encounter Frau Lavorre, as her apartments occupy the third floor. But according to Yussa, he's secured the finest suite the Chateau has to offer apart from the Ruby's own. This is one room Caleb has not seen; to his knowledge, it has always been booked.
At last and almost too soon, he is there facing the door's dark, polished wood. Caleb spends a long moment lingering outside, a last-second review of the man he is supposed to be in this room today: himself, only a degree or two off from reality. Quickly, he deems his nervous excitement suitably appropriate for the role he's playing, and makes no attempt to conceal it before raising a hand and knocking in two quick, sharp raps.
It has been nearly two weeks since he has seen Yussa, and they finalized their plans for this encounter entirely via Sending. Though that wasn't intentional, it certainly does add to the mystique, and puts him firmly in the boots of a man who would pay any price to see Yussa Errenis. There is also no denying how this bit of theater they've concocted together thrills him. He has imagined this moment many times over the better part of the last week, and many other moments that may or may not occur this evening besides. Anticipation makes his heart leap within his chest.
Today, he has made every effort to look his best, as anyone would when wishing to make a favorable impression on a man long admired, whose time and attention is about to cost them a significant amount of coin. His hair is brushed to a glossy copper sheen and half tied back, pulled away from his face but hanging loose about his shoulders. There is only a few days' worth of stubble on his face, just enough to highlight the lines of his jaw and cheekbones and provide a tempting rasp against bare skin. It has been some time since Yussa has seen him without a full beard; perhaps it will lend him an air of novelty, encouraging the fiction that this is their first meeting. He wears one of his nicest outfits, purchased for work, though the dark brown wool of the trousers and jacket and the close-fitting collar of the shirt beneath are making him sweat a bit in the Nicodranas heat. He wears his book harness and component pouch openly, the leather worn but well cared for; anyone who knows an arcanist would recognize his spellbook for what it is. He even wears a touch of cologne, a subtle combination of bergamot and cedarwood that Yussa has previously encouraged him to use more often.
Their engagement is scheduled to begin at seven (Caleb knocked at seven on the dot) and last until tomorrow morning. Though a house so fine as the Lavish Chateau would certainly take care of the matter of payment in advance, so as not to sully a client's fantasy with a vulgar exchange of coin, that exchange is very much a part of the fantasy for them in this case, so they will go through the motions of it themselves. The gold Caleb carries in a purse at his belt feels disproportionately heavy. As he waits for the man he has been longing to see, he brushes his fingers over it, checking the drawstring clasp yet again. How embarrassing would it be to stand on the threshold and find that all he has saved for months to make this night possible has been pickpocketed?
Yussa has spent the last two weeks getting everything prepared for tonight, including himself. Securing the room at the Lavish Chateau was straightforward, especially with the gentle press of his influence, his willingness to spend coin, and favor with the Ruby. He's spent time going through his own things, choosing pieces for the night with careful consideration for his own preferences and his lover's. He knows what Caleb might enjoy, what might tantalize him.
Just yesterday he spent the better part of the day having henna applied to most of his body. The designs are reminiscent of ones from Gwardan, and so not often seen in any other part of the world. He is almost certain Caleb will not have seen anything like them, even with his more extensive travels. A few hours before Caleb arrives, Yussa indulges in a long, hot bath with rosewater oil, then air-dries as he makes sure the room has everything they could need, and perhaps thing they may want. They will not be interrupted tonight, both by design and for the sake of the fantasy. He applies lotion and a hint of neroli blossom perfume at his wrists and neck. He takes time to apply his makeup, painting his eyelids and lips gold, gilding himself for the man who will claim him for the night. Before his white hair dries completely, he runs his fingers through it with some light oil to ensure it will dry in soft waves without frizzing, carefully styled but not straightened. He had it freshly trimmed at the beginning of the week to ensure it would look effortless on the day of.
That done, he dons gold chain body jewelry and covers it with a sheer robe the same color as a stormy sky, certain Caleb has not seen it before. His wardrobe is extensive enough that the task had not been too difficult. The ties at the waist serve to accentuate the shape of him beneath it. Yussa adds a few more pieces of jewelry, including delicate gold bells around his ankles; he leaves his feet bare. By the time he is finished, his heart is beating faster with anticipation as they draw close to the appointed hour. He has thought of this several times since they decided to plan it.
Rather than indulging in the flutter of eager nerves, Yussa leans against the open doorway that leads out onto a balcony. He requested that it be left open to allow the sea breeze in, and to allow him to fully enjoy the sunset. It is not so different from the views they often enjoy from Tidepeak, and that is a familiar comfort when so much of this is relatively new - and when they are supposed to be pretending that it is. Yussa takes a breath and lets it go slowly, then closes his eyes to center himself further as he waits. The person who would work in this room not only has experience to have earned it, but knows their value. The moment the coin hits the table, he will be Caleb's for the night rather than the master of a tower.
A smile quirks his lips when he hears the knock, and he has no doubt that it is exactly seven o'clock. Rather than answering it himself, however, Yussa pushes away from the balcony door and makes a gesture with his hand. The heavy door opens, revealing the man who will be Caleb's for the night standing beside a small table set with wine, fruit, and a deliberately empty space where a good deal of coin might fit.
Yussa's golden eyes are nearly amber in the lantern light and he inclines his head politely - almost demurely.
"Master Widogast," he says with a purr, his accent heavier than usual. He uses Caleb's name, knowing that someone like the Ruby would always be informed of a client's name before their arrival. "Welcome to the Lavish Chateau."
When the door swings open, no part of the shocked awe on Caleb's face needs to be feigned. His eyes fall immediately on Yussa and go wide, and his lips part with a soundless gasp. Yussa is always stunning to behold, but today he has gone above and beyond, even by his standards. What he wears is stunning on him and tastefully provocative, whetting Caleb's appetite for more. Gold chain glints against his skin, and...gods, he catches glimpses of tattoos, beautiful, unique henna designs, beneath the sheer fabric. He takes in the soft curls of his pale hair, the gold paint on his face, the way his body language conveys something both gracious and sultry--Caleb has no difficulty at all believing that some version of himself would pay handsomely to share this man's company.
The room seems quite nice, too, but he barely spares it a glance. Not when he is still drinking in every inch of Yussa.
"Thank you," he speaks up. The soft husk of his voice betrays a little of his jitters. "It seems a, ah--a beautiful place to live and work."
He steps into the room and closes the door carefully behind him. They are alone, and this is happening, and it seems so much more real than when they were planning it. It's exciting, nerve-wracking; Caleb couldn't have anticipated just how much this scenario would enflame his desire.
"It is an honor to meet you, Herr Yussa." He steadies his voice with some effort as he meets the other man's eyes. "Please, call me Caleb."
Feeling distinctly overdressed now, especially as his boots fall heavy on the stone floor compared to Yussa's bare feet, he crosses the space between them until he too is standing beside the table, barely an arm's length apart. The empty space on it is...conspicuous.
"Forgive me if it is impolite or ignorant to broach the subject directly," he says, softly apologetic, "but this is new to me, this...exchange. I was informed of a price by the house, but I wished to confirm with you directly to ensure that it is accurate." He wants to make sure Yussa gets what he's owed, after all.
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Though his robes are lighter weight and more casual than his normal attire--an outfit for relaxation rather than having company, Caleb concludes--they are still ornate and beautiful, spilling across the chaise and arranged artfully around Yussa's slender form. He is stunning to behold even like this, and Caleb lowers himself to sit on the edge of the lounge, reaching out to brush a few soft white curls from his face with a tender caress that lingers to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. With similar affection, Caleb leans over him to kiss his forehead, then the soft crow's feet at the corner of his eye, and then his lips directly.
Though his lips are familiar, it is unlike any other kiss they have shared, as it is entirely one-sided. Yussa's mouth is soft and pliant and opens without resistance as Caleb presses his tongue inside, feeling an illicit thrill as he does so. It lasts only long enough for Caleb to taste his warmth and the familiar spice of the tea he prefers, but the thrill lingers, tingling across Caleb's skin and making his heart beat faster in his chest.
He withdraws only far enough to lay his hand against the dip of Yussa's waist, thumb rubbing back and forth against the smooth fabric thoughtfully. They had a conversation once--a rather dirty conversation, in the midst of doing something rather dirty--that sticks out now in Caleb's mind, as Yussa had strongly indicated that he was intrigued by the idea of sex during his trance, while he would be aware of what is happening and able to enjoy it, but unable to reciprocate, leaving his partner--Caleb specifically, in the context of their discussion--free to enjoy him however he might please.
The idea was arousing then, and it is even more so now, when the opportunity to test this theory of theirs has presented itself. Caleb's teeth scrape across his bottom lip. He traces the silk sash around Yussa's waist until he finds the knot holding it in place and begins to pick it apart with careful, dexterous fingers.
"I am going to take a few liberties with you today, my friend," he murmurs, leaning down far enough for his lips brush the pointed tip of Yussa's ear. "But I think you will like that. And I assume that if you do not, you will wake and tell me so."
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Yussa has worked for the better part of the day; in the fading afternoon, he'd settled down to trance, relaxed among his cushions on the wide chaise. There's the faintest flicker of awareness that someone else is present, but the question of who is soon enough answered by familiar touch and a familiar scent. The kiss feels different, but not at all unpleasant. His lips part beneath the pressure of Caleb's and it's strange to be so passive, yet utterly aware. It feels good when Caleb's tongue sweeps into his mouth, but it is all too brief. Given the relative safety of his tower and the company, Yussa doesn't feel particularly compelled to cut his trance short. Caleb can certainly entertain himself for another hour or two.
Of course, he isn't expecting that he will be part of the entertainment, but he is faintly aware of the light tug and pull of his sash being untied. And then that warm, familiar voice drips wickedness in his ear and Yussa's body responds with a rush of arousal. He feels it like a warm ripple. Oh.
No, he doesn't think he will be waking any time soon. He's far too interested in seeing where this goes.
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But this is Yussa at his most relaxed, and again he is reminded that he is only able to see this, to do this, because Yussa trusts him enough to permit it. The rush of fondness that comes with that thought demands that he bend to kiss him again, even if Yussa can't reciprocate. But Caleb enjoys the softness of his lips anyway, parts them again to kiss him deeper as his fingers make quick work of the gold buttons holding the front of his linen tunic closed.
When Caleb slowly breaks their kiss--his kiss, really--and opens this layer, there is nothing at all beneath but the beautiful brown skin of Yussa's torso. His thin chest rises and falls gently with the measured breathing of his trance and the sunset lights him beautifully, deepening the color of his already warm-toned skin. With him laying mostly on his back it is easy for Caleb to skim his fingers lightly, reverently in a line from his clavicle all the way down to his navel, between the soft points of his pert breasts, comfortably unbound today.
"Gorgeous," he says aloud, voice hushed despite being the only other person in the room--likely the only other person for a dozen floors. "You never fail to take my breath away."
Intellectually he is aware that Yussa can hear and understand him, but it's also much easier to let his mouth run while the other wizard cannot respond.
Reluctantly, he lifts his hand from where it rests low on Yussa's stomach to start removing his own clothing, perfunctory and methodical. He sheds his coat, boots, book holster, component pouch, socks, belt, and finally his shirt, leaving him in only his trousers. All wind up on or near the closest chair. Caleb is wearing less than Yussa by the time he returns to him, but that won't last long, as the first thing he does when he kneels over him is begin to slide his soft pants off his hips and down his legs, movements slow and careful, as if Yussa really was asleep.
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Caleb's voice is warm in his mind, filling his awareness in a different way without the usual rush of consciousness and all the thoughts that come with it. All there is now is his voice, his touch. Yussa would like to think he's beyond needing or desiring praise, but Caleb is always so free with it. He finds it rather endearing.
He can hear the rustle of fabric and all the familiar sounds of Caleb undressing. Yussa lets himself see that in his mind's eye, built from memory, since he is unwilling to wake enough to see the reality for himself. Not yet. The pale skin, the faint freckles, the human ruggedness he's teased Caleb about before.
Another rush of chills races across his skin as the other man draws his trousers off, the fabric brushing down his legs in a way that tantalizes. The care Caleb takes is achingly familiar, and Yussa is pleased he's come to visit. He will have to make that exceedingly clear later.
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Despite his age, Yussa still harbors a childlike glee when he has something new to play with, regardless of how dangerous or unknown it might be. These are just new spell components, though, and he isn't worried that he is going to run into something he can't safely contain. And he's hardly stepping into an extra-dimensional stronghold also known as the archmage's bane. He's working in his own tower and does not intend to leave it again any time soon.
Still, perhaps there was some hubris - or simply oversight due to habit - in not completely investigating the nature of some of the components he's collected. After an unexpected reaction produces sweet-smelling smoke that nearly fills the room, Yussa has every window in the workshop open to air it out. As far as he can tell there is no residue on anything and the smoke clears without any immediate, lingering effects. Well, that had been some unexpected excitement. He makes a note of it in the book he has open on one of the workbenches, marking the exact measurements and combinations that produced the effect.
It takes nearly twenty minutes for the effect of the smoke to actually hit. Long after the ocean breeze has cleared the room, Yussa feels a fever come on rapidly. But it isn't just a fever. The archmage of Tidepeak finds himself gripping the edge of a workbench to stay upright as his knees weaken. A flood of arousal sweeps through him, leaving him breathless. Oh.
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"Yussa," he Sends, more than comfortable on a first-name basis with the archmage when he isn't trying to make a point, "I know that you were meant to return from your excursion today. Just wanting to make certain you are home safe. With respect, Caleb."
The Nein going their separate ways had made learning the spell himself a necessity. While he may not have Jester's flare or particular Sending idiosyncrasies, he has his own particular style. He likes to format it like a letter, for one, including a greeting and signing off, when has the words to do so. And from Jester he has learned the value of utilizing every word, so his messages rarely have less than twenty-five.
Closing the book he'd been perusing, Caleb rolls up his sleeves as he listens for Yussa's response, preparing to pull out the stack of paper with his notes on a new spell now that he finally has some time to himself today. Checking in on Yussa is a precaution, given his friend's history with journeys in pursuit of magical curiosities. He hopes he doesn't find it insulting, but it is done only out of love. Caleb would prefer to ruffle Yussa's feathers a little if it means he doesn't have to worry about the possibility of leaving someone he cares about alone and in danger.
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At first, all Caleb will get in response is heavy, somewhat ragged breathing as Yussa struggles to compose himself enough to speak. He can't think through this fog. He could just leave it at that, he could choose not to respond and contact Caleb when he has... figured this out. But another wave of warmth rolls through him and his decision is made before he can fully think it through.
"Come here. Now."
Normally he might try to be more cordial, but that is the best he can manage and Yussa feels some accomplishment in getting the words out at all. He realizes that given the strained nature of his voice and the roughness in his breathing that he might have just given Caleb cause to worry. Perhaps it will get him here faster and, when he can manage to put more than a few words together, he will apologize.
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folding halls
One of the first orders of business was an attempt to adjust the passage of time within the Halls to be closer to that on the Material Plane. But, just in case, Yussa left behind two sending stones for Wensforth: one able to contact Allura, and one able to directly contact someone Caleb trusts. They also left more simple methods to contact Beau and Yasha, if necessary.
Yussa spreads out the map in the study, which is still empty but for the three books he left behind. For the sake of exploring, he's dressed relatively simply - it's possibly the most of his silhouette Caleb has ever seen while Yussa is fully dressed: sensible breeches, a tunic that falls to his mid-thigh and a slightly longer one over that. A component pouch sits on a belt at his hip.
He leans over the map, carefully taking notes and adding to the map: they'd just found their way back here from the Carving Farm by way of the Dining Hall. He supposes it should not be a surprise that those two rooms are connected, one meant to provide food and the other meant for dining. Certainly not the most disturbing places either of them have been in here.
He stands straighter, studying the new connection lines.
"How long have we been at it?" he asks absently. Caleb has a better grasp on passing time in general than Yussa does. He suspects it may be a decent idea to find somewhere to rest for a while and he studies possible routes to the guest chambers. He hasn't explored those yet and, as far as he knows, neither did the Nein.
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Of course, being forced by the destruction of the red door to take the black door to get out of the Tapestry Entrance had forced them into combat almost immediately with the mysterious wailing creature the Nein had previously avoided. That thing was pretty fucked, but Caleb had concluded quickly that they could save themselves a lot of pain by blocking out the sound of its cries, and cast Deafness on both himself and Yussa. It still hadn't been an enjoyable fight, but between the two of them they'd put the thing down, and now it is one less thing that could try to kill them in the future.
"A little more than four hours," Caleb answers without looking up from the map. He's tracing the known paths between the rooms branching off from the study, then the ones beyond. It's both exciting and intimidating to know that all they've discovered so far is likely only a small percentage of the Folding Halls. There is so much more to see--and no doubt much more danger to uncover.
"Assuming we want to go off map and do some exploring, I would suggest we see what else branches off from the Diamond Entrance," he says, glancing up to catch Yussa's eye without moving away from the map. "I also have a hunch that there must be another route from the bedroom, probably well hidden. That it only connects here and the Fleshmend Facility seems off."
Caleb too is dressed for adventuring, but unlike Yussa, that doesn't mean a dramatic change from his usual attire. Just the addition of his elven chainmail beneath his sweater, really.
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He looks at the Diamond Entrance when Caleb mentions it.
"Perhaps it's best we back track and then go forward. Back to the dining hall, then take the known route to the guest chambers and then the Diamond Entrance." He traces the lines along the map as he speaks. "Hm, or we can go from here to the garden."
The garden has its risks, but as long as they don't dally or start throwing around spells unnecessarily, they should be fine. It's the most direct route.
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ein Besucher
Caleb has often visited him in Nicodranas, and while Yussa has been perfectly content to stay in his tower - as he often is - he's recently felt an itch to travel again. Not ready or just uninterested in another grand adventure alone, he decides it is time that he see the reality of the life Caleb lives, the one that he hears about often enough but has little context for beyond decades-old memories.
So, he arrives in Rexxentrum and goes immediately to the Soltryce Academy, hooded and cloaked against the cold but bright day. Upon setting foot on the grounds, he disguises himself. Nothing drastic, but there are still those here he would not care to run into. Besides, he feels he would draw too much attention looking like himself while doing what he plans to do.
When he pushes his hood back, Yussa appears as a young, pale half-elf with dark hair and gray eyes. He confirms his destination by asking a passing student for directions, and as the wind blusters through the grounds of the academy, Yussa slips into the very back of the large lecture hall where Caleb Widogast is preparing to begin class. Yussa observes with quiet admiration and mild amusement. It does not surprise him that Caleb is--not informal, but he's a personable teacher and an informative but entertaining lecturer.
During a break in class, Yussa slips out with other students and makes his way through familiar halls. It isn't difficult to find Caleb's office, nor is it difficult to let himself in. He finds that amusing. Yussa drops his disguise as a student comes down the hall, startling them.
"Please tell Master Widogast that he has a guest when he has finished his lecture," he says before he slips into the office and closes the door behind him.
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In fact, he is convinced it must be some odd coincidence right up to the point where he opens his office door and finds none other than Yussa Errenis waiting for him. He draws up short right where he is in his own doorway. More than surprised, he's utterly mystified.
"Master Errenis," he greets. "This is a very unexpected pleasure." Beyond their forays into the Folding Halls, Caleb has never actually seen Yussa outside of Tidepeak Tower. To suddenly find him in his office feels rather like being confronted by a tropical bird in Eiselcross.
Though Caleb is glad to see him, the strangeness of the situation has him on his back foot--and deeply curious. Stepping inside, he closes the door again behind him and deposits the stack of papers he is carrying beneath his arm on his desk. "What has brought you to Rexxentrum today, my friend?"
His office is small and a bit cluttered, but gets good light from two large windows, especially around this time of day. He keeps nothing especially important here, preferring as he always has to carry items of any consequence on his person for safe-keeping, typically in his amber vault. The space is decorated eclectically, with the single unifying theme being cats.
There are cats everywhere. Little cat-shaped statuettes in all shapes, sizes, and materials, from wood to stone to yarn, can be seen on his desk, on bookshelves, on windowsills. There are a variety of hand-drawn cats on display as well, with notes and signatures indicating that they'd been gifted to him by students. In fact, students are the source of all of his cats apart from the trio of lucky figurines he'd acquired in Xhorhas, which are lined up on his desk, each with one paw raised. His love of cats is well known, and his collection has seemed to grow itself. Though he has been teaching for nearly two years now, it still surprises and touches him when students gift him these small tokens, often accompanied by messages of gratitude. He keeps and displays them all.
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"Of course it is."
Unexpected, and a pleasure. Yussa is known for his reticence to go anywhere, for his tendency to be hermitical. He looks pleased that he's put his younger colleague on the back foot. He moves closer to the desk and sets the calico cat down before folding his hands beneath his cloak.
"Oh, well. I was passing the teleportation room and thought I might take you up on your invitation," he says lightly. Caleb made that invitation quite some time ago now, a passing remark that Yussa would be welcome should he ever decide to come north. Perhaps it was made with the knowledge that Yussa rarely leaves Tidepeak, but he doesn't think Caleb was disingenuous in the offer.
Besides, the Nein used his home - his personal residence - as a travel hub more than once, and since he has made his welcome clear to Caleb, the other man has not hesitated to visit both on whims and with invitation. The only difference is that Yussa could not directly teleport to Caleb's house: he hasn't seen it.
"I hope I am not imposing."
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begleitung
As agreed, Caleb arrives at five o'clock Rexxentrum time, two hours before the event is to begin. That will give him plenty of time to dress and to spend a short while with Yussa before he goes. It won't matter if he is a little late to the party. In fact, he would prefer to be. He arrives well groomed, but in plain clothes, expecting that Yussa will want him to get ready here so that he may see the result.
After exiting the familiar stone teleportation chamber, Caleb makes his way down toward Yussa's sitting room. He can hear voices drifting up the winding tower stair, which is not unusual. One, naturally, is Yussa's. But the other is decidedly not Wensforth. After descending a few more steps to the next landing, Caleb pauses to listen, curious. The second voice is crisp but kind, low and feminine with a cultured Tal'Dorei accent. Familiar. It takes Caleb only a moment to place it in his memory: Arcanist Allura Vysoren. That makes sense. She and Yussa are friends. Why shouldn't she visit occasionally outside her role as his designated emergency contact?
For a moment, Caleb is too thrilled by the opportunity to remind the woman of his existence to listen very carefully to what is being said. Vysoren is a wizard he greatly admires yet rarely has opportunity to cross paths with, even after being briefly entrusted with her own staff of power (and returning it quite some time ago, sadly).
But before he goes bounding down the stairs to interrupt them, he does take a moment to assess what he would be walking in on. It's clear he's arrived in the middle of an ongoing conversation--one spanning years of their acquaintance, perhaps--so it takes him a moment to understand what is being spoken of. When he does, he's glad he'd chosen discretion. This topic is...intriguing, to say the least, particularly where it concerns his lover, the fellow wizard he has come to care for so deeply, despite his reservations about their kind.
Breathing lightly, Caleb remains where he is for now, hand against the curved stone wall of the tower, ears open. He is no Veth Brenatto, but he can be stealthy when he needs to.
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There's a brief silence after Allura's remark. Yussa lifts a brow, then his tea. He takes a sip, allowing himself space to respond. Though Allura Vysoren is one of the few people he welcomes as unexpected company, this conversation is not new, neither is it the first time she has brought up the concerns of the Arcana Pansophical. It is, however, the first time she has brought up the potential of an apogee solstice.
"As flattered as I am - as I ever am - you do not really wish me as a full member, Allura. And even if you and Ryn do, there are yet others who do not."
"Since when do you shy from ruffling feathers in the name of progress?"
"It is not about feathers, Allura. Nor is it even about trust. I do not wish to join the ranks." There's a faint rustle of fabric as Yussa moves. He doesn't pace, but he drifts from his seat to a window overlooking an interior courtyard. "I don't always agree with your methods, nor you with mine, even if many of our aims move in the same direction. It is better to leave that out of a governing body, even one so loose and invisible as the Pansophical."
"We are not a governing body," Allura mutters, sounding as though this is a long-standing disagreement. She sighs. "Yussa--"
A pause between them, an old stalemate. The sound of a fountain filters through the room and out into the open corridor. Yussa sets his tea down and meets his friend's gaze. She narrows her eyes at him.
"What are you planning?" she asks, suddenly suspicious. "Yussa Erennis, if you are--"
"If I am what?" he cuts her off, sharper than he had been a moment ago. "Mind what you accuse me of, Master Vysoren, as I am entirely certain the members of the Pansophical are not idle in this matter."
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But as much as he has come to know Yussa better than most ever will, there is yet so much more that he does not know. He goes still as stone where he stands as he hears the suspicion in Allura's voice. While she would not befriend the man if she thought him capable of anything truly dangerous (to anyone but himself, at least) and Caleb certainly wouldn't either, she clearly doesn't trust that he isn't going to do something the Pansophical would disagree with. Caleb both bristles on Yussa's behalf and briefly feels a little sick to his stomach.
As a professor at the Soltryce Academy, one of the top institutions for arcane learning in Exandria, it would be impossible not to have heard the rumors about the upcoming solstice. Years away still, but already there are wizards making plans; as they should, if they are to attempt great works that need further study and development beforehand. Caleb has heard still more about this phenomenon from Essek, who has taken to studying leylines again. He has yet to discuss it with Yussa at all, however, which now strikes him as somewhat strange.
He should go down soon, he knows. The longer he remains here, the more likely it is he'll be noticed. Just another minute. He wants to hear how this shakes out.
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wiedersehen (at some point after the reunion)
It is twenty-seven minutes past midnight when he lets himself out of Tidepeak Tower's teleportation chamber. He and the Nein were rather rushed the last time he came through here, and the hour was even later, so there was no opportunity to see the master of the tower. Tonight, he is here specifically for that purpose.
Fishing out his copper wire, he points in the direction he expects to find Yussa's bedroom, a chamber he has had the good fortune to see several times now. The tower stair is dark, lit only by Catha's silvery light seeping in through the handful of windows he can see from this landing. With no sign of Wensforth, he feels quite alone.
"Are you asleep?" he Messages, his voice low and warm, barely above a whisper into the archmage's mind. His heart pounds harder in his chest with nervous excitement. He hesitates a moment, then asks boldly, "Can I do whatever I want?"
Based on the endearingly grouchy response Jester had quoted for them last time, Caleb's question is half teasing, but that also makes it half serious. His fingers toy with the wire between them as he waits for a response. He and Yussa have indulged in that sort of play once before, with positive reviews on both sides, so Caleb isn't especially worried about that aspect. But this is a surprise visit, and there remains the possibility that Yussa isn't in the mood for it, or for sex or Caleb's company in general.
Still, Yussa has never refused to meet with Caleb when he is alone; only when he is present as a part of a larger group. While Yussa has entertained the Nein as a whole several times, Caleb understands completely his reticence to do it on a regular basis. All the better for him, when getting to know Yussa on his own has earned him a relationship with the older wizard where he can do things like this and feel confident he won't be ejected from the tower for his audacity. In fact, Yussa often rewards him for being daring.
This is a far cry from the comfortable, consistent sex life his friends share in their relationships, but Caleb was never going to find that anyway. What he shares with Yussa is not regular, nor has he told anyone about it, but it is wonderful; exciting, stimulating, intimate. He knows he is not imagining Yussa's affection for him, and certainly not his own for Yussa, even if it cannot be named or neatly boxed. He is incredibly lucky.
Trusted and desired, Yussa has welcomed him into his bed even when he is at his most vulnerable. Caleb feels confident that he will do so again tonight.
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Amusement draws a faint smile to his lips when he hears the questions, an echo of his flippant and somewhat annoyed response to a certain blue tiefling not very long ago. He'd been certain of Caleb's presence when an entire ship's crew passed through his house, but he had not been exaggerating his condition, or his lack of care at the time. Instead of a half-considered warning, he has a warm, tantalizing proposition in his lover's voice. He enjoys his time with Caleb, whether they are working through arcane mysteries and theory or--well. Abusing half the furniture in Tidepeak.
He waits to answer just long enough, finding the balance between building the younger man's anticipation and the spell's end. There's only a soft hm in answer, but the message also catches the sound of a door opening - a sound echoed in the stairway where Caleb waits.
Yussa glances around the room, considering in the time he has before Caleb's inevitable arrival. Catha's light pours in through open windows and the lattice behind the bed, but perhaps... a little more, for the human's sake. He makes a quick gesture and a few small globes around the room flicker to life with low, cool light. Yussa takes a sip of the tea that's gone cold on his nightstand, then relaxes back into his bed.
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He travels up the stairs with an effort put toward being quiet, as though Yussa really might be asleep. As he suspected, the door to Yussa's bedroom is slightly ajar. He pushes it open just enough for him to slip in and closes it behind him.
This room, too is awash in moonlight, cut through with the lattice's shadow. But there are a few other magelights glowing as well, which he assumes must be for his benefit. He knows Yussa doesn't sleep with them on. The man himself looks comfortable on his back in the middle of his bed, an arm draped across his middle. A long white nightgown that Caleb knows will be soft to the touch covers his warm brown skin, except where the buttons have been undone over his throat and down his chest. He is resting, but it is impossible to tell from here whether that means trancing or (feigned) sleep.
Tempting as it is to go to him at once, Caleb stops by the foot of the bed and begins to undress himself first. He makes no sound but the rustle of fabric or the occasional metallic scrape of a buckle releasing, muting himself for Yussa's sake, for the sake of this game. He strips all the way down to his smallclothes, which he doesn't intend to keep on for long either.
The scene before him, his lover dozing peacefully in the moonlight, is so idyllic that for a moment Caleb seriously considers abandoning his plans to instead curl up close to Yussa and join him in sleep. But he has set an expectation now, and Yussa's soft, relaxed state is appealing in other ways also.
Caleb merely sits on the edge of the bed at first. He is turned toward Yussa, but not quite touching him, a leg folded on the bed and the other foot still touching the floor. "Thank you for letting me in," he murmurs, voice almost quieter than when he'd Messaged. He doesn't expect a response. "Sorry about last time. I have been thinking about you since. Wanting to come back to make it up to you."
He touches the inside of Yussa's knee, a brush of fingertips where the hem of his long nightgown has slid up to pool there.
"I suppose you do not need to be awake for that. I would not wish to disturb you, after all."
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noch einmeal
"I am going to talk with Yussa for a little while. Do not leave without me. You can reply to this message."
Her response is swift.
"Roger, Lebby. We did save the world and him, so I hope he gives you some cool shit. You deserve it!"
A smile flickers over Caleb's lips, but he doesn't Message further. He turns his face up toward Yussa's back again, noting the landings and doors he doesn't lead him through as they pass.
He has been itching all evening for a chance to speak alone with the older wizard for a number of reasons, the most important of which is to ask how he he is doing. His mood has been warm since they arrived, thanking them for their aid and welcoming them to make merry in his home this evening, but Caleb knows better than most of them what Yussa has been through. It must have been harrowing, and it has been only a little more than a week since he Banished him back to this plane. That isn't a lot of time, in the grand scheme of things, to even begin recovering from such an event.
Less important, but still important to him, is the matter of--well, a more personal nature. Months have now passed, but there has never been the chance to follow up on what occurred between them just before the peace talks. The Nein have been busy, and visits to Tidepeak have been brief, or focused on more pressing matters. He has missed the handful of sunny aftenoons and golden evenings spent copying spells and working through his own drafts in this tower. Understandably, the last one in particular stands out in his memory. He's thought of it often.
At last, they come to a landing where Yussa pauses. Caleb doesn't recognize the door he ushers him through, but follows all the same.
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He hears the message sent as they climb the stairs, though he does not hear the reply.
A door opens on a landing and Yussa slips out onto a long, covered balcony. There are comfortable places to sit and to lounge, a few lanterns lit, and a bottle of wine waiting for them. The sea breeze is warm and pleasant, and the sky beyond Nicodranas is filled with stars.
"I hope this is to your liking," he says, his quiet voice carrying much better now that he isn't competing with Jester, Beau, or Veth. Yussa gestures at the seating options before settling on a low couch.
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The alcove Yussa guides him to is elegant and comfortable in the way that has become characteristic of Tidepeak to Caleb, adhering to Yussa's personal aesthetic while still existing as a space to be lived in. He admires that; it is the same principal with which he had created his own tower.
"Ja, absolutely," he answers quickly, also much easier to hear now that his friends aren't drowning him out. "I did not expect--ah, any of this. Thank you."
Yussa sweeps into a place on the low couch. Caleb deliberates a moment before choosing to sit beside him, hoping that isn't too presumptuous. There is a little space between them, even facing each other.
Licking dry lips and resting his hands on his knees, Caleb nods toward the vista of a sleepy seaside city displayed below. "This is an incredible view."
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aufwendig
Thankfully, he does not encounter Frau Lavorre, as her apartments occupy the third floor. But according to Yussa, he's secured the finest suite the Chateau has to offer apart from the Ruby's own. This is one room Caleb has not seen; to his knowledge, it has always been booked.
At last and almost too soon, he is there facing the door's dark, polished wood. Caleb spends a long moment lingering outside, a last-second review of the man he is supposed to be in this room today: himself, only a degree or two off from reality. Quickly, he deems his nervous excitement suitably appropriate for the role he's playing, and makes no attempt to conceal it before raising a hand and knocking in two quick, sharp raps.
It has been nearly two weeks since he has seen Yussa, and they finalized their plans for this encounter entirely via Sending. Though that wasn't intentional, it certainly does add to the mystique, and puts him firmly in the boots of a man who would pay any price to see Yussa Errenis. There is also no denying how this bit of theater they've concocted together thrills him. He has imagined this moment many times over the better part of the last week, and many other moments that may or may not occur this evening besides. Anticipation makes his heart leap within his chest.
Today, he has made every effort to look his best, as anyone would when wishing to make a favorable impression on a man long admired, whose time and attention is about to cost them a significant amount of coin. His hair is brushed to a glossy copper sheen and half tied back, pulled away from his face but hanging loose about his shoulders. There is only a few days' worth of stubble on his face, just enough to highlight the lines of his jaw and cheekbones and provide a tempting rasp against bare skin. It has been some time since Yussa has seen him without a full beard; perhaps it will lend him an air of novelty, encouraging the fiction that this is their first meeting. He wears one of his nicest outfits, purchased for work, though the dark brown wool of the trousers and jacket and the close-fitting collar of the shirt beneath are making him sweat a bit in the Nicodranas heat. He wears his book harness and component pouch openly, the leather worn but well cared for; anyone who knows an arcanist would recognize his spellbook for what it is. He even wears a touch of cologne, a subtle combination of bergamot and cedarwood that Yussa has previously encouraged him to use more often.
Their engagement is scheduled to begin at seven (Caleb knocked at seven on the dot) and last until tomorrow morning. Though a house so fine as the Lavish Chateau would certainly take care of the matter of payment in advance, so as not to sully a client's fantasy with a vulgar exchange of coin, that exchange is very much a part of the fantasy for them in this case, so they will go through the motions of it themselves. The gold Caleb carries in a purse at his belt feels disproportionately heavy. As he waits for the man he has been longing to see, he brushes his fingers over it, checking the drawstring clasp yet again. How embarrassing would it be to stand on the threshold and find that all he has saved for months to make this night possible has been pickpocketed?
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Just yesterday he spent the better part of the day having henna applied to most of his body. The designs are reminiscent of ones from Gwardan, and so not often seen in any other part of the world. He is almost certain Caleb will not have seen anything like them, even with his more extensive travels. A few hours before Caleb arrives, Yussa indulges in a long, hot bath with rosewater oil, then air-dries as he makes sure the room has everything they could need, and perhaps thing they may want. They will not be interrupted tonight, both by design and for the sake of the fantasy. He applies lotion and a hint of neroli blossom perfume at his wrists and neck. He takes time to apply his makeup, painting his eyelids and lips gold, gilding himself for the man who will claim him for the night. Before his white hair dries completely, he runs his fingers through it with some light oil to ensure it will dry in soft waves without frizzing, carefully styled but not straightened. He had it freshly trimmed at the beginning of the week to ensure it would look effortless on the day of.
That done, he dons gold chain body jewelry and covers it with a sheer robe the same color as a stormy sky, certain Caleb has not seen it before. His wardrobe is extensive enough that the task had not been too difficult. The ties at the waist serve to accentuate the shape of him beneath it. Yussa adds a few more pieces of jewelry, including delicate gold bells around his ankles; he leaves his feet bare. By the time he is finished, his heart is beating faster with anticipation as they draw close to the appointed hour. He has thought of this several times since they decided to plan it.
Rather than indulging in the flutter of eager nerves, Yussa leans against the open doorway that leads out onto a balcony. He requested that it be left open to allow the sea breeze in, and to allow him to fully enjoy the sunset. It is not so different from the views they often enjoy from Tidepeak, and that is a familiar comfort when so much of this is relatively new - and when they are supposed to be pretending that it is. Yussa takes a breath and lets it go slowly, then closes his eyes to center himself further as he waits. The person who would work in this room not only has experience to have earned it, but knows their value. The moment the coin hits the table, he will be Caleb's for the night rather than the master of a tower.
A smile quirks his lips when he hears the knock, and he has no doubt that it is exactly seven o'clock. Rather than answering it himself, however, Yussa pushes away from the balcony door and makes a gesture with his hand. The heavy door opens, revealing the man who will be Caleb's for the night standing beside a small table set with wine, fruit, and a deliberately empty space where a good deal of coin might fit.
Yussa's golden eyes are nearly amber in the lantern light and he inclines his head politely - almost demurely.
"Master Widogast," he says with a purr, his accent heavier than usual. He uses Caleb's name, knowing that someone like the Ruby would always be informed of a client's name before their arrival. "Welcome to the Lavish Chateau."
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The room seems quite nice, too, but he barely spares it a glance. Not when he is still drinking in every inch of Yussa.
"Thank you," he speaks up. The soft husk of his voice betrays a little of his jitters. "It seems a, ah--a beautiful place to live and work."
He steps into the room and closes the door carefully behind him. They are alone, and this is happening, and it seems so much more real than when they were planning it. It's exciting, nerve-wracking; Caleb couldn't have anticipated just how much this scenario would enflame his desire.
"It is an honor to meet you, Herr Yussa." He steadies his voice with some effort as he meets the other man's eyes. "Please, call me Caleb."
Feeling distinctly overdressed now, especially as his boots fall heavy on the stone floor compared to Yussa's bare feet, he crosses the space between them until he too is standing beside the table, barely an arm's length apart. The empty space on it is...conspicuous.
"Forgive me if it is impolite or ignorant to broach the subject directly," he says, softly apologetic, "but this is new to me, this...exchange. I was informed of a price by the house, but I wished to confirm with you directly to ensure that it is accurate." He wants to make sure Yussa gets what he's owed, after all.
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