Chapter Text
The plan is simple, if a little ridiculous. Essek’s dealings with the Cerberus Assembly had been few and far between and when the plan had first been suggested, he was sure they’d see through it immediately. However, he trusts Caleb almost instinctively with this matter. Caleb, who was once deeply entrenched within the Assembly and never forgets a thing. Essek imagines it must be a blessing and a curse to have a mind like that. He knows how useful it can be for the Mighty Nein, but he also knows Caleb’s trauma regarding the Assembly is still as fresh in his mind as if it had happened mere days ago. Essek aches at the thought, that Caleb is willing to return to the depths of the Assembly-- they both know it’s the only way the plan will work, but the thought tears at him nonetheless. Luckily, Caleb won’t have to suffer the same humiliation that Essek will in this plan.
The outfit had been a combined effort of the Mighty Nein, mostly Jester and Beau, with a lot of very awkward input from Caleb. Each piece had been carefully selected with the Empire, and particularly the Assembly, in mind. Essek feels absurd in it, but Caleb had assured him with a measure of discomfort that this was the sort of thing guests wore to these strange underground functions. He feels vulnerable in it, though that’s sort of the point. The collar and shoulder decorations are made of light metal that doesn’t strain or dig into his shoulders, a touch reminiscent of his former mantle as a “humiliating reminder” of Caleb’s ownership. The leash clipped to the collar hangs loosely, the other end held in Caleb’s fidgeting hand. The leather straps of the harness criss-cross his body in sharp, alluring lines, the jewelry hanging from them clinking together as he moves. The robe bottoms are silky, made of thinner material than most robes he’s owned, red and marked with the symbol of the Assembly. The most uncomfortable part, in his opinion, has to be the thin pieces of metal that cover his nipples, the only thing keeping them visible from the world as his small breasts hang free. Well, those, and the plug. The plug had been an awkward last minute addendum by Caleb, who had not wanted Jester or Beau to know of it. He had apologized profusely as he proffered it, explaining that it was common, a form of claiming that makes it clear he is not meant for anyone else.
“I know it is not the most comfortable thing to be wearing in public,” Caleb had said, holding the orange glass object out to him with a sheepish expression, “but it will be better for you in the long run if you do not want strangers touching you.” Essek had bitten his lip hard.
“Yes, I would certainly prefer that no one but you touches me,” he had replied, taking it.
He had put it in himself about an hour ago and it isn’t exactly heavy but it has a clear weight to it that means its presence is never far from his mind.
“So you remember the plan?” Caleb asks. He looks severe and handsome in something similar to his old uniform, his hair pulled into a tight bun at the nape of his neck and his face clean-shaven. Bless him, Essek has never seen him more anxious. His entire body is shaking, just a little, and Essek has half a mind to attempt some semblance of comfort. It may not be well-received, he decides, given the circumstances.
“Yes,” he says softly, “unless the plan has changed since you asked ten minutes ago.”
“Twelve,” Caleb corrects, scratching at his arm through the thick fabric of his coat. Essek frowns and places a hand over his knuckles, preventing him from scratching despite the fabric in the way. “Thank you.” Caleb dons a pair of leather gloves and the shake in his hands becomes less obvious.
“You’re sure you can handle this?” A bitter laugh.
“I will be fine, I just need time to slip back into that… persona, as it were. So reiterate the plan to me, please.” Essek wants to argue but he knows this is probably what Caleb needs to calm down, so he clicks his tongue and repeats the plan, as they had outlined with the more strategy-savvy members of the Nein a week prior.
“You, Bren Aldric Ermendrud, are returning victorious to the Cerberus Assembly after years of healing and self-discovery.” He tries to ignore how Caleb flinches at the name as it leaves his mouth. “Two months ago, I, Shadowhand Essek Thelyss, admitted to you and the rest of your traveling group that I was a traitor to the Dynasty, working for the Assembly, and that I was prepared to betray them for you. You stole me away in the night, displeased with my admittance but realizing I was your perfect opportunity to return to the Assembly. You spent most of your time breaking me and turning me into a perfect sex slave in preparation for one of the Assembly’s more obscene underground parties, during which you would reveal yourself in a triumphant homecoming. We will stay within this charade as long as it takes for you to find the information the Cobalt Soul needs and then you will contact the rest of the Mighty Nein to help take down the Assembly once and for all. Did I get everything?” Caleb nods slowly.
“And you are-- ah-- prepared for anything I may ask you to do at this party and beyond?” Essek would have to be dense to not realize he means sex acts-- they had discussed it, though not much further than the fact that he would have to do them. Essek had delegated not to inform Caleb that he was a virgin. It didn’t really matter anyway, and the Kryn did not carry the same concept of virginity that the Empire did, but he had assumed Caleb would be horrified if he had known, and there was no point in making the man feel any more guilty than he already did. Besides, Essek was more than content with Caleb being his first. He had never imagined it in these particular circumstances, but that was alright. They had danced around their feelings for each other for a while now, but it felt stupid to bring them up now. Later would be better. This was business, a carefully-crafted ploy to infiltrate a dangerous organization and bring them down. Bringing feelings into the matter was not only stupid, it was dangerous.
Caleb seems to have settled at least a little, he’s walking with some measure of confidence and the leash is held more tightly in his hand.
“Remember to call me Bren,” he says. “Keep your hands behind your back and follow any command I give. If I go too far, squeeze my calf and I’ll do my best to remedy the situation without revealing ourselves.” Essek nods curtly and tucks his arms behind his back. He adjusts his posture to be more submissive, trailing a little behind Caleb so it seems as though he’s being led.
They had teleported outside of Rexxentrum, near to where Caleb said the party would be taking place, and had begun their walk in mid-afternoon. Essek’s outfit and face was carefully concealed under a long travelling cloak, but the collar poked out of it and the leash dangled past its closures. Anyone looking on would be able to recognize a man of power leading his slave-- it is just easier to pass through if he was not obviously a drow upon first glance. Caleb keeps glancing nervously at him, as though afraid he will bolt.
“Something the matter?” He asks, tilting his head a little towards Caleb. Caleb swallows.
“You will likely need to remove the cloak soon,” he says gently, apology rife in his tone. “You are still-- I mean, this is still alright?”
“I would not have agreed to it otherwise.” Caleb huffs out a frustrated breath.
“I know, but agreeing to something and going through with it are often different.”
“Perhaps. However, I trust you, and I trust that you will not hurt me or push me too far. This mission is important, not only to me and you, but to many others.” Caleb nods and Essek sees some of the tension leave his shoulders. He squares them, however, as they approach the ostentatious wrought-iron gates of a large home.
“Remember the rules and the boundaries we drew,” Caleb murmurs, turning a little his way. “I’m going to remove the cloak now.” Essek nods, tight-lipped, and straightens his neck out to allow Caleb access to the clasps. Caleb undoes them deftly and Essek stores the cloak in his pocket dimension. Caleb blinks, suddenly, and his face reddens. “Sorry,” he chokes, “I had-- ah-- forgotten exactly what the outfit consisted of.”
“Yes,” Essek sighs, glancing down at his own mostly bare torso, “I rather had too. Give yourself a moment to adjust, it won’t do us well if you are a flustered mess around your slave .” Caleb nods and takes a few shaky breaths as his face takes on a slightly less crimson shade before cooling to its normal pale shade.
“Right then,” Caleb says, taking the leash in his hand and slipping into an authoritative posture. Essek shifts back into his submissive stance and the two look each other over for a moment. “Let us continue, Kätzchen .” His voice is a touch deeper, his accent a bit more pronounced on purpose. Essek is rather loathe to admit it, given the circumstances, but seeing and hearing Caleb act like this makes heat stir in his gut. He imagines it won’t be hard to act aroused despite the situation they find themselves in.
There is a guard at the gate who looks the two of them up and down with an inscrutable expression. Essek is careful not to make eye contact with him, keeping his head obediently tilted down.
“State your name and business.”
“Bren Aldric Ermendrud.” Caleb says smoothly, something long-lost smouldering anew in his eyes. “I doubt I am technically on the guest list, but given the circumstances and what company I bring…” He tugs sharply on Essek’s leash and Essek stumbles a little, shrinking in on himself further. Caleb smirks. “Let the Martinet make his decision, I suppose.” The guard raises a brow and cups his mouth in his hands, turning toward the mansion. There’s a moment of quiet muttering and then a moment’s pause and the guard turns back to them. For a moment Essek is sure it won’t work, that they’ll be refused or worse, killed, but a crude smile draws across the guard’s face as he looks them over again.
“Enter,” the guard says, stepping aside as the gate opens. Essek blinks, surprised, and allows himself to be led through the gate. There’s a shifting of movement behind him and he feels Caleb jerk to the side. He must not be quick enough, as Essek feels a rough hand grope his backside. He flinches and quashes his need to retaliate or respond in any way, but Caleb has already cast something, the small, straight piece of iron in his free hand indicating a simple Hold Person . He tugs Essek gently out of reach of the guard’s grasping hand.
“You would do well not to touch what isn’t yours.” Caleb says coldly. “I have been kind by leaving you with your hand today, in part because I am a guest in this house, but make no mistake. If you lay a hand on him again, I do not care what retribution will find me, I have tamed him fair and square and I am quite possessive of my pets.” Essek tries to ignore the fact that his smallclothes are already a little damp and follows Caleb without a glance back. Caleb releases the spell with a flick of his hand and tucks the component back into his pocket, leading Essek forward with a stiffer posture than before. He hears the gate swing shut and a huff of annoyance from the guard, but nothing else.
“Are you alright?” Caleb asks under his breath, his hard expression melting with concern.
“I am fine,” Essek says, “I suppose that just prepares me for what I will experience inside.”
“No,” Caleb says firmly, “No one else will touch you, I will make sure of that. This experience is already uncomfortable for you, I will do my best to ensure it isn’t any more uncomfortable than necessary.” He leaves it at that. Caleb reaches over and gently squeezes his hand and then repostures, squaring his shoulders again, and then they’re in front of the door.
Essek has never been to Ludinus Da’leth’s actual home, but he isn’t surprised to learn that it is disgustingly opulent. The front door itself is a large and imposing structure of dark-stained wood, with a hellhound door knocker cast in what appears to be mithral. Caleb clears his throat and reaches up to knock solidly on the door. The hellhound’s eyes alight with a pale green glow. Caleb flinches. “Residuum,” he breathes. Essek resists the urge to snort. What a pretentious bastard, using such expensive materials for his fucking door knocker.
There’s a flurry of movement behind the door before it swings open. Essek can feel Caleb brace for whoever opens the door but it’s not someone either of them recognize, a thin elven girl with long dark hair. Essek realizes with a wave of nausea that based off her size and face shape, she probably hasn’t finished her first century, and here she stands in a thin robe, clearly a slave like himself.
“Welcome,” she says in a faint voice, “my master has been expecting you.” She steps aside and Caleb-- Bren, he reminds himself now that they’re nearly inside, nods curtly and steps inside. Essek follows behind, grateful for the sudden plushness of carpet under his bare feet. “The party is in the Martinet’s subterranean ballroom,” the girl says. They both know better than to ask her name or try to make small talk as she leads them through the winding hallways and down a spiral staircase. Essek can hear the music and chatter growing louder as they descend, accompanied with the sweet, nigh cloying scent of wine. Caleb’s grip on the leash is unfaltering now, and it’s only due to his proximity that Essek can sense the nearly imperceptible tremble that wracks his body. He bumps his hip gently against Caleb’s and feels his body relax slightly, not enough to lose the dominating posture but enough that he doesn’t seem taut as a bowstring. Essek falls back into step behind him, ducking his head in a careful display of subservience. They reach the bottom of the spiral staircase and onto a platform. Across the way is another spiral staircase and to their left is a straight, broad staircase that opens into an enormous ball room. The ceiling is adorned with several arcanely-lit chandeliers connected to one central chandelier that throws the room into shades of amber and rose. The scene below is about what Essek had expected-- a mix of clothed and nude figures engaged in conversation, dance, and several lewd acts. He swallows and the collar shifts slightly against his throat.
Ludinus approaches them first as they descend the stairs, dressed in simpler blue robes than his usual. He sweeps the elven girl aside and she stands deferentially behind him, eyes cast down.
“ Herr Ermendrud,” he greets with a wicked smile. He waves his hand in an arcane gesture, most likely attempting to dispel any sort of illusion around either of them. When nothing is dropped, his smile twists a little. “It truly is you. When Noah told me your name I was sure it was someone masquerading as you.” He assumes Noah must be the handsy guard.
“ Nein , it is me,” Caleb says with a flash of teeth, “in the flesh.”
“So it is. Am I expected to believe you’ve changed so drastically, though? Mere months ago you were still parading around with that mercenary group, the-- ah-- Mighty Nein, was it?”
“Indeed,” Caleb’s smile turns predatory. “I was with them, yes, but only because I needed an opportunity to return. They served their purpose, helping me grow in some of the ways I needed to, but spending time with them only made me realize what I truly craved was power. You can help me with that, yes?”
“Always, it is what we do best. Now, Ermendrud, when you say you needed an opportunity …?” Ludinus trails off, looking pointedly at Essek. Essek keeps his head down despite the pairs of eyes trained on him.
“Yes, Martinet. I am sure you remember Shadowhand Essek Thelyss? Or perhaps it would be more fitting to call him Lord Desren Thane ?” Ludinus’ smile curls up at the corners in a way that makes Essek’s stomach roil.
“Ah, so I see.” Essek feels fingers under his chin, lifting his eyes to level with Ludinus’, though he averts his gaze immediately. “What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself in, Thelyss ?” His voice hisses on Essek’s den name. Essek does not flinch and keeps his eyes on the ground and his hands folded behind his back. “You have him quite well trained, it is impressive . You always were a particularly stubborn crick, were you not, Essek? Pretty as well, though, and you certainly capitalized on that.” Ludinus and Caleb share a laugh and for a moment Ludinus’ thumb brushes along Essek’s lips with the intent to press into his mouth before Caleb stops him with a word and a firm hand on his arm.
“Martinet. I have no desire to share.” Ludinus frowns.
“You remember the rules of the parties, I assume?”
“Naturally, and he is marked as mine alone. You would not violate the rules of your own function, would you, Martinet?” Essek’s mind strays to the plug inside him, the mark he is Caleb’s alone, and he breathes a silent sigh of relief as Ludinus steps away to stand next to the elf girl.
“Of course not. Pity, though. You will have to thoroughly ruin him tonight, I have always wondered what the Bright Queen’s uptight little Shadowhand looks like after someone’s had their way with him.” Caleb chuckles and tugs Essek closer to him.
“That’s why we’re here, is it not?” Ludinus’ smile is nothing short of carnivorous. Caleb’s is uncomfortably similar.
“It certainly is.”
---
Ikithon, it appears, is not at the party, nor are either of Caleb’s former classmates. Caleb breathes a sigh of relief at this, though they both know their absence from the plan won’t last. The rest of their fake story had come out at intervals and as far as Essek could tell, they bought it. They both knew, however, that they could not get away with talking forever. At Ludinus’ goading, the two of them end up on one of the many raised platforms in the ballroom with Caleb seated in a large, throne-like chair and Essek at his feet. Caleb reaches down and removes Essek’s robe bottom, laying it across the back of the chair and leaving Essek utterly exposed. Well, no going back now, he supposes. It’s a bit awkward to arrange themselves, but after a moment or two, Essek is settled comfortably between Caleb’s legs on his knees, his face at height with Caleb’s groin. Caleb lets the leash sit slack in his hand and Essek leans forward a little.
“Slave,” Caleb says with an air of imperiousness, “pleasure me.” He spreads his legs before Essek’s face and despite himself, Essek feels heat bloom in his stomach.
“As you wish, master,” he replies in a sufficiently tremulous tone. He sets to undoing the fastenings of Caleb’s Empire trousers-- a bit less complicated than Dynasty trousers, he finds. The ties come undone surprisingly easily and Essek eases them down Caleb’s hips as much as possible without having Caleb lift himself off the chair.
He expects to find smallclothes, but it appears Caleb decided to forgo them for this endeavor. He tries to ignore how hot that is. He is a little surprised to find not a proper cock, but parts a little more like his, glistening with slick already. Caleb’s cock is a little larger than his, likely due to potions he’s read about, and flushed beautiful and red before his eyes. He licks his lips and leans in, mouthing carefully at Caleb’s folds and tucking his hands behind his back like a good servant. Caleb groans above him, a lovely and deep sound that strikes a match in Essek’s core. He laps dutifully, cleaning the existing slick from Caleb’s cunt with careful, broad, strokes before sucking Caleb’s cock into his mouth. Caleb moans and tugs on the leash, pressing Essek’s nose and mouth into his cunt. Essek whimpers, already impossibly turned on.
“Careful, meine kleines Spielzeug ,” Caleb mutters. “You work at my command, ja ?” Essek cannot respond verbally and gives a little nod into Caleb’s cunt. “ Gut. ” Caleb releases him and he sets to lapping at Caleb’s folds again, ignoring his cock despite how it twitches beautifully near his eye-level. “You have always been enamoured with my cock. Is that why you truly left your home in the Dynasty, because you were too obsessed with it like the little whore you are? It is a good thing I allow you to have it, is it not?” Essek doesn’t know if he expects him to answer and whines quietly into Caleb’s cunt. “You think I should remove that plug, let the others have their way with you? Or perhaps invite others to join us? Would you like that?” His voice is low and calm, as if reciting a spell by rote. Essek whines again and Caleb yanks the leash hard, pulling Essek away from his cunt. His free hand grips Essek’s chin, messy with slick and saliva. Caleb’s eyes are terribly gentle and so afraid. Essek swallows, knowing he’s meant to say something but unsure how to respond, and then Caleb’s hand releases his chin and he slaps Essek across the face. The pain is bright and jarring, throwing stars into his vision. “Answer me, whore ,” he hisses. “Should I invite others to join us?” Essek blinks, surprised at the pain and the look on Caleb’s face. He briefly debates squeezing Caleb’s calf, but he’s fine. This is nothing he can’t handle.
“I-- no, master,” he replies. “I want only your cock.” Caleb’s hand is immediately cool and soothing on his cheek.
“ Gut . You may continue.”
The rest of the room has fallen away now, Essek’s brain focused only on the beautiful, imposing man above and in front of him. He settles in to lap at Caleb’s folds again, attentive and gentle.
“You may suck my cock now,” Caleb says after another minute or two of this.
“Thank you,” Essek murmurs. He sucks it hard, rolling it between his lips gently, and Caleb shakes and pants above him.
“Good little Schlampe ,” he moans, petting Essek’s hair. Essek preens under the touch and praise. It only takes a few more minutes of sucking for Caleb to come hard, bucking his hips into Essek’s mouth. “ Gut gemacht ,” he says, petting Essek’s hair a little before seizing it in his fist, “now clean up your mess.” Essek does so without complaint, cleaning the remaining slick from Caleb’s cunt while carefully avoiding his sensitive cock. He can’t help but moan a little in spite of, or perhaps because of, the rough treatment. Caleb is normally so careful, so gentle, but Bren is cruel and sharp, and Essek finds he sort of likes being manhandled by him. He finishes cleaning Caleb up and Caleb releases the tight grip on his hair. He sits back obediently on his heels, relishing the slight sting in his scalp and the tang of Caleb’s slick in his mouth. “Lovely. Put me away, slave.” Essek does back up the ties of Caleb’s trousers and adjusts the waistband to settle at the right point on his hips. He waits silently as Caleb rises from the chair. Ludinus claps to the right of them.
“Well, Ermendrud, that was quite the show. A bit tame for my tastes, but still. It seems he enjoys what you make him do, perhaps a bit too much. How did you achieve that?” It’s due to Ludinus’ teasing that Essek realizes he’s so wet that some of his slick has dripped onto the floor. Perhaps he should be embarrassed, but his brain is so clouded with arousal that he can barely pay his shame any mind. He tilts his head to lay it comfortably on Caleb’s thigh. Caleb laughs and tugs roughly on his leash and Essek stumbles onto his hands and knees. He strokes the curve of Essek’s cheek with one finger and his gaze shifts from Essek to Ludinus.
“Well, Martinet. I have come to learn that sex is a powerful motivator for the profoundly lonely. If there was one thing I learned early on about Essek Thelyss it is that he has always been alone. I could gather he was likely starved of touch and affection and craved structure in his life. I broke him, yes, but I also gave him those things, and for that he rewards me with his enthusiasm.” One finger turns into a warm hand cupping his cheek and Essek sighs, nuzzling into it. “Essek,” Caleb says in a clear voice. Essek blinks, looking up at him. “Touch yourself.” Essek whimpers and immediately reaches his hand between his legs to rub his clit with desperate, shaking fingers. Caleb’s hand pulls back and he whines at the loss of contact. Caleb snaps his fingers at a servant carrying a platter full of wine glasses and takes one of the glasses from her plate, sipping it as he watches Essek through hooded lids. He watches carefully, and as Essek feels himself approaching orgasm, Caleb’s clear voice rings out again. “Stop.” Essek freezes and pulls his hand away from himself.
“Impressive,” Ludinus notes with a raised brow, “The Thelyss I remember was an obstinate bastard if I ever knew one. To see him so docile is quite the feat. I wonder whether your methods could be effective on other cricks.” Caleb simply smiles and sips his wine. Essek ducks his head in a show of submission despite the disgust that spikes through him at Ludinus’ words.
“Who would you have in mind, Ludinus? A simple Echo Knight? Or would your aspirations soar as high as taming the Bright Queen herself?” Ludinus laughs jovially, nearly sloshing his own glass of wine.
“Ah, a smart man never shows his cards, Ermendrud.”
“Fair enough,” Caleb says, winking and tipping his wineglass in Ludinus’ direction. He turns back to Essek. “ Meine süße Hure ,” he croons, lifting Essek’s chin with his finger, “finger yourself, and cum for me?” Immediately, Essek’s fingers are back to rubbing at his clit, desperate and wet. He finds no resistance as he presses first one, then two fingers deep inside himself, rocking against his palm. He can feel the plug pressing against his fingers from the inside and he swallows a moan at that. With Caleb looking down at him like that, it only takes a few minutes for him to come unravelled with a small sob. Caleb laughs, a bright and joyful noise. “I think you may need someone to clean your floors after that little show, Martinet.” Ludinus hums.
“ He could clean it up a little himself, don’t you agree?” Caleb hums as well, tilting his head to look at Essek, as though gauging how much more he’s willing to do.
“Essek,” he says, cool and quiet, “clean your mess off the floor.” Essek swallows, the embarrassment filling him now that his brain is no longer clouded by arousal, but he does as he’s told. His knees ache as he stoops to the floor, licking his slick from the marble tiles and trying not to think too hard. When he’s done, Caleb’s hand strokes through his hair again, fond but detached. “ Gut gemacht . Martinet, if I could make a request?” Ludinus seems stunned, watching Essek lift his head from the floor, as if he had not expected Essek to go through with it. He snaps to attention when Caleb speaks.
“Yes?”
“Is there some kind of temporary housing we could use that operates through the Assembly? I intend to buy a house here in the Candles once I get the chance, but you must understand I am a tad picky.” Ludinus straightens up and nods as Caleb stands, leading Essek on hands and knees across the floor.
“Yes, yes of course. I will let Ikithon know you will be arriving soon.” Essek hopes he’s the only one who notices Caleb’s flinch.
---
Within the hour, the two of them are ushered to one of the Cerberus Assembly’s headquarter buildings, where a few guest rooms are kept, mainly for mages staying for a short time to do research within the building. It’s surprisingly nice for such a room, with a four-poster bed fitted with dark red sheets. There is a convenient chain on one of the walls that Caleb trades Essek’s leather leash for. Ludinus informs them Trent will arrive in the morning to discuss arrangements, and that for the night they should rest.
“The show you gave tonight was quite delightful,” Ludinus says, hovering in the doorway, “pray you do not get stage fright in the weeks to come.” Caleb gives him a sardonic grin and a little wave as he chains Essek to the wall by his collar. Caleb listens carefully to the footsteps receding and as soon as he’s decided they’re quiet enough he drops to his knees, cupping Essek’s face in his hands.
“I am sorry, es tut mir leid , Essek, I am so sorry,” he babbles, fumbling to remove the collar. Essek relaxes, the tension leaving his shoulders.
“It is alright, Caleb, I promise.”
“I did not push you too far?” There are warm hands on his neck as the collar is removed, gently rubbing his collarbones and shoulders. “It was alright?”
“No, it was fine,” Essek promises, leaning his head on Caleb’s shoulder, “it was fine, I am simply exhausted.”
A few minutes later they are both laid on the bed, Caleb gently stroking Essek’s hair and mumbling a continued litany of apologies while Essek assures him it’s alright, he was only doing what he had to.
“I am sorry, you likely will have to sleep on the floor,” Caleb says, rubbing his arms, “I suppose it may be better for an elf, though.” Essek nods.
“I can trance in nearly any position. I will sit on the floor and it will be alright.” He removes the plug before he does so, prestidigitating it clean with a flush of shame through his body before tucking it into his pocket dimension. He assumes it will no longer be required, and Caleb had returned the robe bottoms to him after the party, so he already feels better.
“I will get you something more comfortable to wear in the morning,” Caleb slurs, his hand dangling over the side of the bed to grasp Essek’s. Essek squeezes his hand once and carefully kisses the knuckles.
“I will hold you to that, ta'ecelle ,” he murmurs, but Caleb is already asleep.
---
In the morning, Caleb leaves early to speak with Trent one on one. Essek casts Fortune’s Favor on him before he leaves, a gentle reminder he is not alone. In Caleb’s absence, Essek busies himself making the bed and then tracing glyphs on the floor until he’s sure he’s traced every glyph in his spellbook. Caleb returns about an hour after leaving. He’s sure Caleb could tell him how long it had been down to the minute, but he feels his approximation is probably fair.
“How did it go?” he asks. He doesn’t notice any sort of tremor in Caleb’s body and he counts that as a win.
“Fine,” Caleb replies, “He simply asked how long I intended to stay here and what my plans for the future regarding the Assembly were.” Essek nods.
“Sounds like things are going according to plan.”
“Ja,” Caleb says, his expression oddly calculating. It sends a shiver down Essek’s spine, though he’s tempted to blame it on the drafty room and his revealing attire. “All according to plan.”