Chapter Text
Something is not right. This is the first thing Fjord realises as he wakes. The second thing is that his cut palm still stings. He's still giddy with excitement that Caleb followed his cue with that, but the anticipation of his end of the bargain is slowly killing him. Deciding to investigate the source of his unease Fjord sits up in bed and wipes the sleep from his eyes. As his vision clears he notices he is not in his cabin and that his roommate is now a tiny Goblin instead of a giant Firbolg.
Before he can ask Nott what the hell is up he gets distracted by the weight of more hair on his head than there should be. He pulls a few strange into his line of sight and gasps at the ginger hue. Scrambling from the bed and trying not to wake Nott he makes his way to the nearest bathroom with a mirror and shrieks.
Staring back at him is none other than Caleb Widogast. Fjord moves this way and that trying to catch the reflection in a mistake, but to no avail.
“This can't be happening” Hearing his true accent in Caleb's voice was jarring to say the least.
Before Fjord can decide how he wants to go about this predicament, Nott kicks in the door with her crossbow raised.
Fjord shrieks again.
“Caleb!? Are you okay? Did something hurt you? Was it a night terror?” Nott lowers her crossbow and approaches Fjord checking him over for injuries.
Fjord’s imitated many people but never a Zemnian. Not trusting his mimicry skills he just nods.
“Do you want me to stay up with you?” Seeing Nott's genuine concern aimed in his direction is a new experience for Fjord, it's odd from someone he sees mostly for her shenanigans.
Fjord shakes his head and is unsettled by the new feeling of hair moving with the motion. Nott gives him one last once over before heading out the door, “Well I'm gonna see if Caddy is making breakfast, and I'll bring you something if I don't see you there.”
As soon as Nott leaves Fjord rushes down the hall to his shared room with Caduceus. He eases the door open and peers inside, the Firbolg's bed is neatly made and there's a snoring lump in Fjord’s bed. Does Fjord snore like that?
He sneaks over to his bed and feels his gut lurch at the sight of himself. It's like an out of body experience. Fjord reached out with his new bandaged hands and shakes who is hopefully Caleb awake.
“5 more minutes Nott.” A sleepy Zemnian voice mumbles.
“This is kinda urgent!” Fjord hisses.
Fjord's body sits up and wipes his eyes of sleep. “What is urgent-?” Before he finishes the question he kicks away from Fjord and reaches for a component pouch he does not have.
Fjord holds his hands up as non threateningly as possible.
“Take it easy. It's Fjord, and I'm guessing you're Caleb?”
“Ja, but how can I trust that you are not an illusion, or some creature with shape changing abilities?”
“Well shit we haven't exactly shared a bunch of deep dark secrets.” Fjord points at the Mariners armour on his nightstand, “Well you gave me that in a trade for your magic fire glove. We keep promising to make it work despite that going so well lately. You told me not to blame myself after the iron shepherds bullshit. We're both out here in the middle of the ocean cos of some weird serpent that gave me my magic. And we cut our palms after checking out my old shipwreck. Is that enough for you?”
Caleb stares at him with Fjord's bright yellow eyes. “I think hearing your unique accent come out of my mouth has convinced me.”
Fjord laughs. “It's weird right? You might be the first half orc to speak with a Zemnian accent.”
Caleb scrunches up Fjord's face in concentration. “This is going to be quite the situation to solve. However the arcane implications and theory involved could be revolutionary.”
“You're right. I wonder?” Fjord let's his voice trail off and summons his falchion to his hand which appears as usual with a sea spray.
Caleb sits up at this. “Huh. This means Uk'Atoa's pact is tied to your soul and has no physical bounds. This could mean your pact surpasses death…”
Fjord shudders. “We have enough problems right now please don't theorise about new ones.”
Caleb stands up. “You're correct this current problem is more than enough for us.” As Caleb heads over to Fjord's pack to get dressed he stops abruptly. Before Fjord can ask what's up Caleb is right in front of him and pulling at something around his neck.
“I need this.” He pulls it up over Fjord's head and then down over his own. Fjord examines the amulet resting against Caleb's now green chest. A carved golden eye stares back.
“What is that?”
Caleb looks conflicted before answering. “It's a protective amulet, it prevents divination magic from detecting me. I am unsure if spells looking for me could detect me you or both of us in our current state so we need to fix this fast.”
Fjord puts a hand on Caleb's shoulder to ease his quickened breathing. “Who's looking for you that has you so afraid?”
Caleb sits back down on the bed. “You reminded me I promised you something else in the trade for that armour.”
“You did?” So much has happened lately Fjord can barely remember their first few months together.
“I did. You want to know about my past and why it keeps haunting me with fire. Well I feel I owe you this story by now.”
And so Caleb repeats the story of how he murdered his parents. When Caleb reaches the end of his story Fjord is so overwhelmed with emotions he doesn't know how to react.
“Can I hug you?”
“I uh ja?”
Fjord embraces Caleb and holds him tight. “I'm sorry you went through that.”
“Don't be sorry I am a bad person.”
Fjord growls and sits back to make eye contact with his own eyes. “You're a hypocrite. You can't blame yourself for what someone else does to you those are your words.”
While Caleb disagrees in silence it dawns on Fjord that Caleb basically experienced a hug from himself. Based on the self loathing he's expressing Fjord wants to cry that this may have been the closest thing to self love he's experienced in a long time.
“You're right though, we do need to fix this soon or find another one of those fancy amulets. I don't want that Ikathon bastard coming anywhere near you.”
Caleb nods. “Ja that could very ugly. We need to tell the others so we can have all hands on deck.”
“But they'll make it weird.” Fjord whines.
Caleb rolls his eyes. “They will. But do you truly believe you can imitate me? Have you even used a Zemnian accent before?”
Fjord pouts. “No.”
Caleb smirks. “That's what I thought. Come on let's go tell the others and suffer through their teasing.”