As he walks back to his quarters, all Fjord can think of is sleep. It might’ve only been a few hours for them inside that damn magic ball, but now that he thinks about it, the exhaustion weighing him down certainly feels seven days old (if not more). The pounding in his head has only gotten worse since the fight, and his body still aches even after Caduceus’s magic healed most of the burns that’d scorched his skin earlier. All he wants to do is collapse and forget about everything that just transpired.
Before he can make it to his room, however, he’s intercepted by a surprisingly calm Caduceus, holding a tray with two teacups in his hands.
“Hi,” Fjord sighs, halfheartedly, not really in the mood for a conversation.
“Hey,” Caduceus smiles, voice sweet and thick as honey, holding out the tray, “I thought some calming tea would be good after today’s tensions.”
“Thanks, Clay, but I think I’m just gonna sleep it off.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean for you. Well, not only you. I thought you could bring it over to Jester, too.”
Fjord tilts his head, feeling a frown crease his eyebrows with confusion. Caduceus stares at him, expectant for a second, as if he expected Fjord to understand some unspoken truth, until clear disappointment settles on the fireblog’s shoulders. A judgemental look, that Fjord has become uncomfortably familiar with, crosses his features for a moment until it all settles with a defeated sigh.
“She’s not alright, Fjord. The fight clearly left her shaken.”
“I’d say it shook all of us,” Fjord concedes.
“If she keeps bottling up these things we might end up losing her. She’ll either walk away when it gets too much or keep pushing herself until she doesn’t make it out from the fight. Today was a close call. She needs to talk to someone. She needs you.”
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