42 on your Spotify playlist, Molly/Caleb if you think it fits them or another pairing of your choice if not.
Uh.  Remember that AU we were talking about awhile back. Remember how Iâm like halfway through âa ghost in my lungsâ and kinda out for blood.Â
I should NOT be allowed to write Caleb-centric fic at 2 AM anymore, huh?
Mirrors â Pvris
standing up rightabove me
Caleb does not remember how he got hereâhere, of all places, a sweet and handsome manor in the foothills,the mountains purple and magnificent above the forest to one side, the last redand orange leaves of fall like fire around him. Itâs beautiful, picturesque, the very image of a wealthy familyâs modestcountry retreat.
The doors, oak carved with a simple arabesque pattern drippingdown the frame like ivy, make sickness rise so hard and fast in Calebâs gutthat he digs in his heels without a thought.
âHit him,â a voice says, bored, and a kick out of nowheresends Caleb crashing to his knees. Â Thecobbled path hurts, and he only realizes that his hands are chained behind him whenhe tries to catch himself and instead lands shoulder-first on the stone. Â The gag between his teeth silences his yelpof pain, keeps him from biting into his tongue on impact. Â Heâs not sure if thatâs a blessing or not.
Lying on the stone, he tries to remember what happened.
The fightâhe remembers the fight, more of a good deed thananything else, when word came down of unsavory military recruitment tacticshappening in the rural townships south of Rexxentrum. Â Theyâd spent three days asking questions andgetting basically nothing before their usual stupid luck had them blunderingstraight into trouble.
Real trouble.
Caleb remembers the wizard, with her two bodyguards and her coldblue eyes and her graceful dancerâs step. He remembers the way her voice sounded when she said, âIs that you, myfriend?â
And then he raised his hand, his fingers going black as hesummoned the fire that had always served him so loyally, and she saidâ
She saidâ
His hand burned and she opened her mouth and her throatworked and she saidâ
His memory goes black there, as swift and clean as if it wascut short with a blow of Yashaâs sword. All that remains is the crackle of fire, and the impression of heat onhis hands, and the bruises and cuts that he can feel, sprawled here on the stonepath.
One has the distinctive feel of frostbite, as if heâd beenstabbed with a shaft of ice through his right biceps.
Oh gods, Calebthinks, and retches helplessly. Â Jester.
âYouâre a disgrace, Widogast,â the voice says in disgustedZemnian.
âWhat did you do to me?â Caleb demands, lunging upâand beingkicked again, in the ribs this time, to drive him back to the ground. Â âWhatââ
What did I do?
âGet him up,â Astrid orders, and Caleb is dragged ungentlyup to his feet, every muscle screaming in protest.  He doesnât fight it as they drag him inside.  Heâs too busy trying to catalogue the otherinjuries on his body.  That gash to histhighâcould that be from Yasha?  Thesplash-burn on his shoulder must be Eldritch Blast, from Fjord, and the achingbruise that throbs over his ribs in time to his heartbeatâŠBeau.  It has to be.
Please, gods, Archheart,if you ever gave a damn, let them be okay. Caleb has that gutted, scraped-thin feeling of having burned through alot of magic in a very short time. Â Allof it, maybe.
All of it, atâwho? His friends?
His family, again?
He comes back to himself when heâs more or less pushed down aflight of stairs into a familiar dungeon. Itâs lit only by magical glowglasses, spaced between the cells down thecorridor. Â They cannot account for thesmell of smoke.
âPut him with the quiet one,â Astrid says.  âWeâre a bit crowded, but donât worry, yourroommate is veryâŠcooperative.â  Then shehesitates.  Astrid, of all people, whowas always so sure and confident.  Whotook Calebâs mind from him with one wordâwhatwas the wordâand didnât think twice.
She walks up and rests a hand on his cheek, using her gripon his jaw to force him to meet her eyes. Caleb learned to do that here, meet eyes. Â If he was going to be the pride of the Empire,Ikithon always said, Caleb had to look honest and reliable, diplomatic, and hecould just have dinner when he could look his teacher in the eye and askpolitely.
Astridâs eyes are still blue and clear and cold, and she easesher grip on Calebâs face a touch as he stares back at her. Â She strokes his cheek, almost gentle.
âDonât worry, Caleb,â she says, still in Zemnian. Â âYouâll be with us again, just as soon as youârebetter. Â Itâll be okay. Â Weâre going to make it okay.â
Caleb is frozen for a long moment, half in terror and halfin shock. Â He canât even articulate itbecauseâbecause he just wants her to stop touchinghim, to stop looking at him. Â Whatever she did, to take him away fromhimself and drag him back here, it left a feeling of bone-deep contamination inits wake, as if every small crevice heâs eked out clean of Ikithonâs influencehas been dirtied all over again.
Then he hears Nottâs voice, all the way back when they firstmet, saying frankly, âEveryone thinks theyâre real scary until theyâve got goblinteeth in their leg.â
Astrid runs her thumb over his chapped lower lip, idle andpossessive, and Caleb opens his mouth and bitesher as hard as he can.
Itâs worth the beating, to spit her own blood back at her,and for a moment all he can think is that Molly would be proud of him.
âWidogast,â Astrid pants, clutching her freely bleeding handto her chest and looking down at him where heâs all but hanging by the armsfrom the grip of her two guards. Â âIâvebeen waiting to have you back with us for twelve years, but I have to say Iâmlooking forward to making you pay for running, first. Â Throw him in the cell. Â Heâll live.â
Being mandhandled into the cell hurts so much that Calebgoes away again, a little bit, in a much more familiar way than before. Â He lands on the ground and drags in threeslow breaths, just like he was trained to, and then rolls onto his back to takestock.
Heâs in rough shape, he decides. Â Heâll live, certainly, but he wonât enjoy it muchin this state. Â At least one rib isbroken. Â He thinks his ankle might be aswell, but heâs having some numbness that should probably worry him even more.
Maybe, he thinks grimly, he could fracture that rib properlyand punch a hole in his own lung to suffocate quietly through, before she comesback.
Because, of course, heâs going to die here. Â That was a given from the moment he saw thedoors again. Â Even if the Nein decided tocome after himâand gods, why would they, heâs a monster, a rabid dogwho finally turned on themâthey would doubtless scout it and conclude that ahalf-decent wizard with a cat and homicidal tendencies isnât worth riskingtheir necks for.
Thatâs assuming theyâre all still alive.
Gods, he wishes he had his cat with him.
Caleb doesnât know how long heâs been lying there, when hefeels the hand on his shoulderâan exploratory sort of poke, as if seeing if heâsbitten the metaphorical big one since rolling over. Â He raises a hand feebly, trying to say not dead yet without trying to actuallyspeak. Â Speaking seems a bit outside his capabilitiesright now.
His cellmateâthe âquiet oneâ, whatever that meantâclears theirthroat and says softly, âWa-ter?â
They sound rough and ragged, like theyâve been silent a longtime, and they shape the word like someone learning a completely foreign tongue,hitting every consonant too hard and muddling the vowels. Â
Caleb sits up so fast he feels something in his chest crunch,and narrowly misses crashing headfirst into a magnificently curled horn.
Kneeling over him is a tiefling with skin that shows lavenderand scarred in the dim light, loose shirt maybe white once. Â The eyes throw the light back, reflecting redall around, without a trace of pupil, and the hand being held up as if to warnCaleb off hasâoh, it has a tattoo, Caleb can see it curl around the wrist, asnake, and on the neck, peacock feathers and a hidden red eye.
âMollymauk?â Caleb rasps.
Heâs feeling a little hysterical. Gods, maybe Calebâs died already and this is his own personal chamber of the Nine Hells.  That sure would save everyone some trouble.
Mollymauk Tealeaf holds out a tin cup, and repeats, âWa-ter?â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
By some stroke of luck, Jackie had managed to remain hidden during a majority of the raid. Sheâd heard of some injuries here and there whenever she just so happened across someone on her trek to safety, but none of it seemed all that major thankfully. She hoped things continued that way as she carefully stepped down the cobblestone road, making sure to keep to the shadows to avoid detection. At the end of the road she ducked into a shop, seeing that the door was open. Hopefully sheâd find someone friendly inside.
An air of relief left her when she spotted a familiar face, immediately Jackie walked over to her housemate and pulled her into a hug. âOh my gosh, Laurel, Iâm so glad youâre okay.â She gushed, holding onto the blonde girlâs hands. âYou are okay, right? Youâre not hurt or anything?â