“Essek,” Caleb calls, striding into the sitting room of the little cottage in Rexxentrum, a bag of oranges and a new book from Jester under his arm. “I’m home.”
No response. The cats, however, are meowing with delight at Caleb’s arrival. He pets them all one by one and scoops Johann up into his arms, soothed by the heavy rumbling purr against his shoulder. He heads to the kitchen to put the oranges away, only to stop short at the sight of a familiar slim figure, head bent over a simmering pot on the stove.
“Essek?” Caleb says, incredulous.
The lid of the pot comes down with a loud metallic bang. “Caleb,” Essek gasps, only narrowly saving the pot from tipping over with a cantrip. “I did not hear you arrive.”
“I only just got back,” Caleb explains, pushing the pot back gently into place, lest all of Essek’s hard work be lost. “You must have been terribly bored without me, if you have resorted to cooking, of all things.”
“One: bold of you to assume I am incapable of keeping myself occupied without you. Two: I will have you know I can do anything I put my mind to,” Essek says loftily.
“As to your first point, I beg to differ. But with the second, I agree entirely. Surely a simple soup would be well within your considerable abilities,” Caleb agrees.
“We will have to agree to disagree on the first.” Essek hesitates, glancing at the pot. “On the second… Do not expect much. I fear you will be disappointed.”
“As if you could ever disappoint me,” Caleb says, leaning down to press his lips against Essek’s cheek. “But before that, I come bearing gifts from Jester. She made me swear I would give them to you immediately. The very moment I arrived.”
Essek’s eyes brighten. Caleb never tires of how excited he gets at the prospect of presents. “What did you bring?”
Caleb makes Essek hold out his hands, then deposits the bag of oranges into his open palms. “Your first present,” he announces.
“Oh, my favorite,” Essek says, marveling.
“She knows. Of course she knows.” Caleb takes the bag and sets it on the table. “And one more gift.” He sets the book into Essek’s hands. Its leather binding is beautiful, supple and sturdy and dyed a rich purple, but there is no title on the cover. “Jester also made me promise that only you could open this book, so I have no idea what it is.”
“Hmm.” Essek frowns a little, then he lets the book fall open. To their utter shock, something squirts from its pages and lands directly on the tip of Essek’s nose. He startles and drops the book.
“Are you alright?” Caleb asks at once, wiping the stuff from Essek’s nose. He looks at it, confused. The goo is purple and sticky and… smells rather like fruit? Caleb looks down. More of the goo is oozing from the book’s pages. Caleb gets on his knees and peers closer. There are a few words written in Jester’s familiar flourish, though they look rather as though she had used the tip of her finger to write them.
Caleb reads the message aloud: “Your dalnar called in a favor. I said I’d do it because I knew you couldn’t get mad if it was from me! Love, Jester. And, of course, a beautifully illustrated dick at the bottom of the page.” Caleb blinks, confused. “Dalnar?”
To his surprise, when he glances up, Essek’s lips are pressed together in the way he does when he’s trying not to smile. “Verin, you little shit,” he mutters in Undercommon.
“Is… everything alright?” Caleb asks.
“Yes. It is a silly thing, I suppose. Something Verin used to do from when we were children—he would put jam in my books as a joke.”
Essek kneels down beside Caleb to get a better look at Jester’s message. He has to wipe the salt from his cheeks after a few moments, but his grin brightens his whole face, all the way up to his eyes. Something tells Caleb that even if Verin had sent the book, Essek wouldn’t have been angry. Not really.
“You still have a bit of jam on your face,” Caleb informs him. He scoops up a fingerful of jam and smears it on Essek’s forehead.
Essek lets out the most undignified squeak, which delights Caleb to no end. “Caleb!”
In no time at all, there isn’t a single inch of either Essek or Caleb that isn’t stained violet and sticky with sugar. It takes Caleb ages to get the last of the jam out of his beard, and Essek’s soup nearly boils over on the stove, but it’s absolutely worth it just to see Essek laughing.
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