Chapter Text
There is an almost palpable feeling of relief when the judge reads aloud the sentence and Caleb, even now, numbed by weeks and months of bureaucracy and waiting, feels a moment of quiet joy. Beauregard squeezes his hand from where she sits next to him and before she even opens her mouth to speak, Caleb is falling into her, grabbing her tight and shoving his head into her shoulder.
"Hey, dude, you okay there?" She says, patting him awkwardly on the back.
"Ja... yes." Caleb says, sitting back up, cheeks red with embarrassment. "We did it."
There is disbelief and relief in his voice, mixed with the great leveler of tiredness as he stares up at the ceiling.
"Well duh, obviously." Beau is joking but he can feel the happiness from her too. "I always knew we'd get that old fucker somehow."
Had they? Caleb hadn't at least, so used to Trent pulling one last scheme, one final loophole to get himself off scot free. And yet maybe he should have had a little more faith. Maybe the universe is not so against karmic luck as he had always believed.
Beau turns to him, a grin spreading across her face.
"You wanna see his old ass get put in a jail cell?"
Caleb laughs. "That would be wonderful."
* * *
Outside of the court room, small crowds have gathered on the steps in the sunny Rexxentrum day, milling about as they discuss the intricacies of the trials finale. Caleb and Beau had tried to keep it out of the public eye but to little success, the people of the empire had always had a penchant for drama.
Amidst the gawking onlookers though there is at least one group that Caleb does want to see, and he scans the waiting crowds as they weave their way through, looking for hints of blue and purple or for Beau’s very tall girlfriend. Before he can even spot her though, Jester rushes at him, almost knocking him back in a strong armed hug that smells of freshly baked muffins and home.
"You did it, you did it, you did it!" She exclaims, letting him go for only the briefest second before wheeling him back round again. Caleb has just enough time to see Yasha and Beau shaking their heads in humorous enjoyment at his predicament before his vision is filled with the toothy grin of a very excited tiefling.
"What did I tell you Caleb! Of course you would beat ickythong and so now I can show you the big cake I made! It’s totally amazing! I would have shown you if you'd lost too but then that would have been like super depressing cake."
She finally sets him down and Caleb chuckles, smiling despite the fact that he does not exactly feel like cake right now. But Jester doesn’t need to know that.
"We could have a party too if you want, or maybe just like a low-key social-"
"Jester." A soft voice admonishes from behind her and Caleb feels his mouth stretching into a smile without consulting his brain on the matter. A blonde elf walks round her, eyes taking in Caleb analytically, looking for signs of hurt, though he knows better than most that any hurt Caleb has is the kind tucked discreetly away, out of sight. It is one of his usual disguises, the one most similar to himself and the one he most often wears when he's with Caleb. Caleb knows each of his disguises of course, their names and backstories and habits, which Essek had painstakingly put together with the same thoroughness he gives to any project.
Caleb waves at his partner and Essek slips a hand through his with a practiced efficiency that is only a little uncomfortable. They do not often initiate intimacy in public, both because of Jesters teasing and the fact that they are both deeply private individuals. Essek being willing to do it now makes Caleb's heart jump in a way completely unconducive to his age.
"Are you alright?" Essek asks, brown eyes meeting his, with all the insight of his violet ones. "We do not have to go to any parties if you don't want to."
Essek throws a quick sharp glance over his shoulder at Jester who pouts a little but seems mostly unperturbed, and Caleb laughs.
"I am okay, schatz, all things considered."
Essek visibly relaxes. He is not lying, for once, although perhaps it is a little more complicated than just ‘okay’. But Essek already knows that. And alrightness, a concept that had once seemed impossible, is feeling more true each day.
"And I am not completely against a party, just maybe not tonight."
Jester jumps in undisguised glee and pops up behind Essek’s shoulder, who pretends to look annoyed.
"I will plan the greatest party in Exandria! And it will be totally respectful and not in poor taste!" She says before running off to talk to Yasha, undoubtedly with some harebrained scheme about the inevitably phallic decor.
"Somehow I doubt that." Essek says under his breath, a smile betraying him. Him and Essek have many similarities and a weakness towards a certain Lavorre is definitely one of them.
"I want to see them do it." Caleb says and Essek looks up at him in surprise at the non sequitur.
"What do you mean?"
"Lock him up." He is resolute in his words. He knows he needs this. The man is a specter, a figure that haunts his dreams and much of his waking hours too so Caleb needs to see it. To know that it is real. He needs to stand in front of that prison cell, and know with certainty that it is over. He survived.
He can see the doubt on his partner’s false face but he knows Essek will not deny him the closure that he will never get to have. Essek squeezes his hand softly and nods.
"I do not like it, you are smart enough to know that Caleb, but I understand." He looks up at him resolutely. "And I am coming with you. No arguing."
It is his Shadowhand voice, now used only for the most non-negotiable situations (and sometimes with the cat) and although Caleb had always imagined this final parting alone he cannot say no. And it will be fitting, a final fuck you to the man who ruined his life, to show him he had turned that horror into something beautiful.
"And me too." A voice breaks into the moment, Beauregard of course. "If you think for a second that I'll let him gaslight you two idiot wizards or whatever then you're even dumber than I thought."
"Fine Beau, and you too."
“It’s practically tradition for you to third-wheel our dates anyway.” Essek adds in an exaggerated posh little voice and Beau punches him in the arm.
“If you think this is a date, your relationship is even more fucked up than I thought.”
* * *
They go straight away, leaving Yasha and Jester to party plan, and heading to the ancient dungeons just outside of the judgement tower. For some reason Caleb had half expected to see Astrid and Eadwulf lurking at the entrance but neither of Trent’s shadows are there. Perhaps they do not need the same kind of closure he does, or are simply happy to get it in other ways. He has not seen either of them since the start of the trial, when they had briefly appeared as witnesses, speaking about Trent’s multitude of atrocities in a carefully measured tone that Caleb could only wish to emulate. Astrid has been busy with her archmage business and Eadwulf has fucked off to who knows where. Well, presumably Astrid does at least.
The prison is dark and dank and twisting, but does not have the same labyrinthine presence as the Dungeon of Penance, nor the same falling apart nature of any of the jail's he himself has been kept in. It is slightly nicer than he would like but he supposes that anywhere can feel like hell if you are kept there long enough.
Beau saunters on ahead, conversing with the silently stoic guards. It is pretty one sided but she's giving it a good go anyway. Essek has a slightly murderous expression on his face, although whether that’s just his usual resting face or some indication of actual hatred he’s not entirely sure, and he keeps glancing at Caleb out of the corner of his eye when he thinks he's not looking.
"You're worrying about me." Caleb teases and Essek startles and blushes, embarrassed at being caught out.
"Of course I'm worried." He huffs defensively. "Which I think is probably a positive in this situation."
Caleb rolls his eyes and Essek repeats the motion dramatically, and then holds out his hand sharply, pulling Caleb along when he grabs it.
He loves Essek. The emotion feels delicate when he examines it but he knows it's true. He loves all of his friends of course, a bone deep love that threatens to overwhelm him with its strength, but Essek’s is different. It is not just that he desperately wants to kiss him half the time, although that is some of it, it is a gentle tenderness that stretches throughout all of the possibilities Essek loves to natter about.
And yet he has still not told him. Essek knows, or at least, he hopes he does, in the same way that Caleb knows Essek loves him even if he hasn't said it. It is the dozens of tiny, little things, the soft way Essek braids his hair, the way he wakes him up in the middle of the night fit to bursting with an idea he cannot possibly wait to share, the flowers he keeps in bloom in a vase in the middle of their kitchen table. He'll tell him now, or soon at least, now that Trent is dealt with and he finally feels free to just live.
"He's in there at the moment." One of the guards says coming to a halt outside a glass paneled room. "They'll be transferring him to a more permanent cell once they know everything’s in order."
Caleb steps forward tentatively to join Beau at the glass where she stands, hands on hips and glaring. He follows her gaze to Trent, sitting on a bench in the middle of the room, looking for once like nothing more than a tired old man. Gone are his resplendent robes, replaced with a grey prisoners shift, his spellbook and jewellery nowhere to be seen. The nightmare is still there, the familiar panic in Caleb's mind, but he does not feel scared about it overwhelming him today.
"The things we did for that man..." Essek whispers behind him, more to be said than heard and Caleb huffs a laugh in agreement. He forgets sometimes that while Trent was not the architect of Essek’s suffering, that is a hole the drow built for himself, he was certainly not innocent in it. Yet another of the sad little things that they share.
Trent finally seems to realise they are watching and his icy blue eyes meet Caleb’s. The asshole still has the guts to smile. He whispers something to the guard who nods and leaves the room and then stands up from the chair, walking towards the glass. Caleb tries to breathe and does a slightly better job than usual, given the circumstances. He feels Beau and Essek move a little closer to him, hovering at his shoulders, twin looks of disgust on their faces.
"Let's go before he gaslights you dude." Beau grumbles, gesturing to the exit with a tilt of the head. Caleb shakes his slightly. One moment.
"I see you've come to say goodbye Bren." Trent says, voice muffled by the glass. Essek reaches up to clasp Caleb's arm tightly. "I appreciate the gesture."
He's as slimy as ever, voice twisted into a sick facsimile of kindness, but Caleb knows the old man's tricks by now. This is not the archmages office and Caleb a lowly pupil, this is a prison, and for once Trent has none of the power.
"I have come to say goodbye." Caleb says, staring into those cold eyes. "I hope you enjoy rotting in prison knowing all your little pets have put you there. Astrid will dismantle the volstruckers and I will finish discrediting you until not a scrap of your work remains. You are just a sick old man, completely alone. I have made a lot of mistakes in my life, many because of you, but at least the path I walked led me to here, staring at you through the bars of a cell."
A silence. Trent doesn't have the sense to look worried. Caleb has long since stopped believing that Trent could ever be smart enough to see through his own lies.
"You think I’m alone?" He says, in Zemnian now, though Beau can still understand it and Essek at least grasp the meaning, so the point is somewhat moot. "You think I have given up? Resigned myself to sitting here, reflecting on my crimes?"
A snarl of his lips and then he's reaching up with his cuffed hands, opening his mouth.
"Gross dude..." Beau mutters and Caleb freezes. How could he ever truly believe that Trent had run out of plans? He has always had a back up for every backup of every backup. Caleb can never truly win.
The thing in his mouth when he gets it out, too fast for anyone to act, is immediately obvious to Caleb. Residuum, that cursed stone he had revered and hated in equal measure. He sees it all happening, sees Trent hold it up to the glass and speak words Caleb doesn't have the frame of mind to understand, but his useless hands stay lose at his side. Will he ever be over this weakness? Will he ever truly be enough to overcome his tormenter?
Essek is quicker, hands up and moving into the somatics for counterspell, just as Trent starts to speak, graceful fingers moving through the positions in practiced quickness. Beau, who does not have the luxury of spellcasting, bangs on the glass sharply with her fist and calls for the guards. The gem Trent is holding shatters, shards flying out and nicking skin, just as Essek finishes. It is not quick enough. Caleb knows this, even as the guards enter the room, grabbing Trent's hands, who seems once more completely at ease.
"What did you do?" Beau shouts at him, through the glass while he still stands there numbly. He feels cold hands on his face, Esseks, gently turning his face towards his, looking worriedly into his eyes.
"Are you okay sunlight?" Essek is saying, looking at him with fear. "I think I stopped him in time but I cannot be sure, Caleb can you talk to-"
"I’m fine." He manages to say, closing his eyes shut tightly for a moment and breathing in, out, in, out. "I am not harmed."
Essek collapses a little and lets go of his face. "I was worried he'd harmed you somehow but I guess whatever he was trying didn't work."
"He was wearing anti magic handcuffs," Caleb says, mind catching up to the events. "It wouldn't have worked but-"
"-perhaps he was hoping to use the residuum as a replacement for his own magic reserves." Essek finishes. Beau has disappeared to shout at the guards. "A clever idea but whatever he tried to do has clearly not worked. Although perhaps we can drop by the grove and get Caduceus to check, just in case."
Caleb nods, he doubts anything but time will put his mind fully at rest but Caduceus might manage to do it.
"Ja, okay." He says and Essek smiles a little, looking over to where Beau is coming back out of the room looking royally pissed off.
Essek walks over to talk to Beau but Caleb stays by the window watching the guards patting Trent down and then dragging him over towards the cells. Trent watches him as they do, a smile flitting across his lips for a moment before he speaks.
Caleb is too far away now to hear him but Trent moves his mouth slowly, forming each syllable so there is no way Caleb can mistake his words.
‘See you soon Bren.’
Caleb shivers and finally tears his gaze away just as the others walk past, Essek setting a gentle hand on the small of his back.
"Lets go home." Caleb says. "Salmon needs feeding."
Essek rolls his eyes.
"Of course it's the cat you're worried about."