#Apologies to anyone who speaks Finnish if the Google Translates are terrible

[critrolesideblog]

"Do you enjoy card games?" At this query, Caleb looked up slowly, finally, from the Aeorian tome he had been frowning at all day.

It was the third day of a forced respite from their Aeorian expedition. They had been beset on their last outing by a three-headed abomination that, though quickly vanquished, had left Caleb with a series of nasty bites that bled with alarming profusion. A couple of healing potions had stopped the bleeding and partly healed the wounds, but they stubbornly refused to heal up entirely. So, at Essek's insistence and Caleb's reluctant acceptance, they were taking a break.

Caleb had spent their "break" thus far puzzling over an incomplete Aeorian formula with increasing frustration and, despite Essek's efforts at reassurance, guilt at delaying their explorations. Caleb had stubbornly refused both Essek's help and his suggestions that he work on something else for a while. So, Essek moved to Plan C.

"I, ah, ja, I suppose so," Caleb replied, azure eyes glancing down to Essek's hands, deftly shuffling the deck he had procured from the second floor of the tower. "Although, it has been some time since I've played one."

"It has for me as well." Essek glided around the desk Caleb was seated at to place himself on the opposite side, as Caleb considered him thoughtfully, and as he seated himself, the Zemnian wizard gently closed the tome with a small sigh and made space on the desk by unceremoniously shoving a small mountain of wadded-up, discarded parchment onto the floor, to the annoyed meows, chitters, and huffs of a number of the tower cats. "It's been at least," Essek took a large breath and let it out in a slow sigh, making a production of thinking over the many decades it had been since his last game with Verin. "Oh, at least 70 years, maybe 80." Caleb leveled a deadpan gaze at him for his efforts, though he was unable to completely school the muscles at the corners of his lips that wanted to form a smirk at his little one-upmanship. Essek allowed himself a satisfied grin in return. "Still, I thought it might be a pleasant diversion."

"Do you have a particular game in mind, old man?" Ha. Essek considered the possibilities, unsure of which, if any, games spanned their two cultures.

"Hm, there was one Verin was particularly fond of when we were children. The cards are dealt evenly between the players," he explained and began dispensing the cards. "And the goal is to obtain the entire deck. Without looking, we each take turns flipping cards over into a pile in the center, until someone plays a face card. When that happens, the next player tries to beat the value of the previous card, Aces being of greatest value, and whomever has the highest card claims the pile."

"Simple enough."

"Indeed, but when Verin played, he was fond of what he called..." He paused to consider how best to convey it in Common. It was odd the random words that came up as blank spots in his vocabulary. Punch...? No, not punch. "How do you say it ... There is a word, I think, for when you hit something with your palm?" He mimed the motion of doing it to someone's face.

Caleb raised an eyebrow, a bemused expression settling on his features. "A slap?"

"Yes!” Now that Caleb said it he was certain he had heard it before. “He liked to play with...” He paused to consider the translation again. “Slap rules."

"Slap rules?"

"When two cards of the same value are played in a row, or on either side of a single card, any player may slap their hand down and claim the pile, whomever is quickest."

"Alright, I think I've got it." They each scooped up their respective piles of cards and formed them into neat stacks in their hands. "Shall we?" There was a glimmer of friendly competitiveness in Caleb's eyes that made Essek's heart-rate tick up a little.

"After you."

They took turns flipping over cards, slowly at first, random numbers of varying colors stacking one on top of the other until Caleb, at last, turned over a Jack. "Ah, let's see if you can beat that, Her Thelyss." Essek dealt his next card. Six. He let out a little huff of disappointment as Caleb slid the pile towards himself with the ghost of a grin hovering around his mouth.

"Danke." He said, adding the pile to his hand.

"Ole hyvä." Essek deadpanned. Amusement crinkled the edges of Caleb's eyes, and an increasingly familiar warm affection took up residence in Essek's chest. They began again, flipping the cards a little faster this time.

Thump. Caleb blinked with surprise as Essek claimed the pile. He moved his hand back slightly to reveal the most recent cards - two threes in a row. "Aaah, right, slap rules."

"Indeed."

They began again, flipping the cards over a little faster still. Essek glanced up at Caleb's face. The guilt and frustration that had tugged on his features the past two days seemed to have released their grip, in favor of intent observation. He looked back down -- two eights! Their hands collided as they both reached for the pile at the same time, but Caleb eked out a victory, his fingers managing to slip just under Essek's. Caleb gave a soft "ha!" as he claimed the pile, and Essek found himself grinning as well, despite the loss. He had not considered that their hands would inevitably touch over the course of this game, but he couldn't say he minded.

"You can imagine, perhaps," he said slowly as they began turning over cards again, resolutely watching the cards this time, "two little Drow boys slapping the cards, and each other, with increasing enthusiasm as the game goes on." Caleb chuckled.

"I can indeed. In Blumenthal, we had a game where we just slapped each other's hands to see who was fastest, no cards needed." Both of their hands shot out - a nine flanked by a pair of fives this time. Again, there was Caleb's warm hand under Essek's instead of cardstock. He made a show of hissing with frustration, baring his fangs a little, but he was sure it was belied by the grin still tugging at his mouth. Caleb didn't seem the least bit intimidated as he added the cards to his hand, amusement crinkling the eyes again. The warm affection steadily blooming in Essek's chest grew warmer still. They began again, and after a moment of dealing cards in companionable silence, Caleb asked, "What is he like? Your brother?"

A memory filled Essek's senses. He and his brother were in a ballroom on the Thelyss estate. Members of various Dens and the upper echelon of the military were milling about them to the strains of soft music and polite conversation. Verin was grinning with a brash pride at being appointed Taskhand, chin held high, chest puffed out. A gleeful victory polished his silver eyes to shining. Earlier that evening, Essek had retied the bun neatly collecting his little brother's many braids to make sure he was presentable for the ceremony. Verin had ruffled Essek's hair to make sure he wasn't. "Tall," he replied, finally, and then muttered, "the bastard." That shocked a laugh out of Caleb, as Essek hoped it would, and he tried to suppress his own victorious grin.

"How rude of him growing past his elder brother!" Caleb laughed.

"The disrespect," Essek opined, shaking his head. "When we were teenagers, I once escorted him to a shop - he wanted to buy a trinket for some girl, and I needed spell components."

"Naturally."

"And the shopkeeper complimented him on how kind he was to take his little brother out shopping." Caleb's laugh was lovelier than any sound Essek could think to compare it to. "I could have strangled that shopkeep. I knew I would never hear the end of it. All I heard for months after that was little brother this, and little brother that."

"How did you get him to stop?"

"Violence." Essek claimed the card pile with a Jack of Spades. "I mastered Telekinesis and tossed him into a snowbank."

"Ja, naturally, as one does." Caleb's voice was warm with amusement.

Essek felt no need to mention that Verin had enjoyed the experience and asked to be tossed into the snowbank three more times. "He's naturally charming," Essek continued. "Too much for his own good, sometimes. He has forgotten on more than one occasion to check whether the targets of his charms were married first."

"Uh-oh," Caleb chuckled.

"Indeed." Essek rolled his eyes with old exasperation and then claimed the pile of cards again with a Queen of Hearts. "He's smart, but he always preferred fighting and flirting to academics. Still, he has a keen mind for battle strategy, tactics, problem-solving. Much too honest for politics, but he is the sort of person people turn to naturally for leadership, and he takes that responsibility seriously." Caleb claimed the pile this time, King of Clubs.

"He sounds like a good person," Caleb ventured quietly.

Another memory rose up, unbidden. Verin when he was a long way yet from being Verin. They had called him Rei then, and Essek had been called Kai. Rei was a baby, barely old enough to walk, but his tiny hand patted Kai's shoulder gently as his elder brother tried not to cry over a skinned knee. His silver eyes, large in his small, round face, clearly full of a sympathy he did not have words yet to express. Essek nodded. "Even when he was a child. As a toddler, any time he received a treat, his first instinct was always to share it, with me or Nanny, or the housekeepers, even, whomever was nearby." Haluatko vähän? Do you want some? The little boy had always asked. Haluatko vähän? He had asked the less popular children in school, as he went out of his way to share his snacks and his shine. Haluatko vähän? He had asked with an excited smile, on the eve of his deployment to Bazzoxan, before running out into the rain to get fried insects from his favorite street vendor, like a child and not the 105-year-old man that he was, and again after purchasing it and exclaiming how delicious they were, Haluatko vähän? "He has always had a good heart." Icy tendrils began to snake their way through Essek's chest, like the mold of Aeor, feeding on the heat there and turning it into cold, cold shame and guilt. How had Verin remained so good and Essek turned so wrong?

He didn't ask the question aloud, but Caleb seemed to guess where his mind had turned and countered it with a question of his own. "Perhaps some credit goes to his elder brother for shielding his good heart?" Essek made himself look into Caleb's eyes, and their hands paused in their game for a moment. There was no pity in the Lucidian blue, just a gentle curiosity. It was a genuine question.

Essek considered the hypothesis. He had tried his best to keep Verin on the right side of the Umavi's scrutiny and their father's temper and out of any problems he couldn't punch his way out of. But was it as simple as being the younger of the two? Essek had felt as much affection for Nanny as Verin had, but he wasn't sure he had ever offered to share a treat with her before Verin came along. If he had, he certainly hadn't continued to offer after repeated declinations out of an immovable sense of fairness. As far as Essek could recall, they had always been of wildly different dispositions. Verin was boisterous where Essek was quiet, outgoing where he was introverted, gregarious where he was selfish, courageous where he was cowardly. Try as he might, Essek could not imagine Verin doing the things he had done, for the Dynasty or against it, for mere power.

"Very little," he concluded. "I did try to look out for him, but for all that we share in origin, we are very different people. There is no discarded timeline with a Shadowhand Verin."

Caleb considered this thoughtfully for a moment and then tossed a card down with his verdict: "That last assertion is unfalsifiable." Essek raised an eyebrow and tossed a card down. Yes, he supposed it was... for now...

Thump. Caleb slid the pile crowned by two Kings toward himself with a satisfied grin. "You know this game is very unfair to you, Herr Thelyss." There was a spark of mischief in his eyes, and Essek felt the chill in his chest begin to ease. "What with my being so much younger than you, better reflexes and all of that."

Essek scoffed and shook his head, a grin returning to his face. The nerve. "Oh, we'll see about that."

#baby's first ficlet #first one posted to the worldwide web anyway #please be gentle #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #shadowgast #a little but mostly Essek thinkin about his brother #verin thelyss #Apologies to anyone who speaks Finnish if the Google Translates are terrible #my writing tag