[ Fjord would have guarded all of this so jealously, he imagines, having never had a home of his own. It's all so well-loved and worn; even the broken wooden rabbit toy is charming in the way it has been kept, wanted in a way Fjord never was —
This isn't about him.
Scooting over to close the distance, he tentatively lays his hand on the back of his friend's. Not for the Chroma thrill (which still blooms and has a satisfying pull to it) but because he wants to thank him properly and holding hands is their newest thing. Fjord looks insistent as he aims to squeeze those long grey fingers, peering up at his friend's side. ]
I genuinely don't know what would have become of me without your help. You say it was the Wildmother guiding you to me, but it was you who decided I was worth your time to begin with. It ... It's the difference between breathing and drowning, Deuces, things could have been so different ...
[ He doesn't like to think about it, most of the time. Surrounded by all the nice memories Caduceus has, Fjord can't pretend he hasn't been extremely lucky to know this kind firbolg who would have had every right to stay home forever and tend to his graveyard in peace but instead has died or come close too many times to be comfortable, travelling with a bunch of ne'er-do-wells. Back when the falchion was destroyed and Fjord was bleeding out in the middle of the night he had woken Caduceus because he seemed to have his shit together on a level Fjord never would, he was generous and patient without judgement. Fjord had wanted that. If Caduceus hadn't introduced Fjord to the Wildmother prior, if Fjord hadn't spoken with Melora on that snowy cliffside where she claimed him as her Paladin ... well, it would have been Fjord, a cliff, and his depressed solitude. He might not have made it back into the cave with his friends.
There's a lump in his throat as he leans on his friend. ]
hey bro let me tenderly hold ur hand and tell u i love u
[ Fjord would have guarded all of this so jealously, he imagines, having never had a home of his own. It's all so well-loved and worn; even the broken wooden rabbit toy is charming in the way it has been kept, wanted in a way Fjord never was —
This isn't about him.
Scooting over to close the distance, he tentatively lays his hand on the back of his friend's. Not for the Chroma thrill (which still blooms and has a satisfying pull to it) but because he wants to thank him properly and holding hands is their newest thing. Fjord looks insistent as he aims to squeeze those long grey fingers, peering up at his friend's side. ]
I genuinely don't know what would have become of me without your help. You say it was the Wildmother guiding you to me, but it was you who decided I was worth your time to begin with. It ... It's the difference between breathing and drowning, Deuces, things could have been so different ...
[ He doesn't like to think about it, most of the time. Surrounded by all the nice memories Caduceus has, Fjord can't pretend he hasn't been extremely lucky to know this kind firbolg who would have had every right to stay home forever and tend to his graveyard in peace but instead has died or come close too many times to be comfortable, travelling with a bunch of ne'er-do-wells. Back when the falchion was destroyed and Fjord was bleeding out in the middle of the night he had woken Caduceus because he seemed to have his shit together on a level Fjord never would, he was generous and patient without judgement. Fjord had wanted that. If Caduceus hadn't introduced Fjord to the Wildmother prior, if Fjord hadn't spoken with Melora on that snowy cliffside where she claimed him as her Paladin ... well, it would have been Fjord, a cliff, and his depressed solitude. He might not have made it back into the cave with his friends.
There's a lump in his throat as he leans on his friend. ]
Just — Thank you, Caduceus. For being here.