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This was what she’d been most afraid of when she made friends with the group.
Not the constant fighting, or getting attached again. Even if it was hard sometimes, it was definitely worth it.
No, the worst part was them finally seeing her for what she was; a goblin.
And specifically, seeing what she used to be.
They’d gotten close to her old village, expecting to be able to handle whatever her old tribe threw at them. And Nott hadn’t expected much out of the clan.
She definitely didn’t think they’d improved their stealth, but they got the drop on the Mighty Nien hilariously fast.
Fjord, Molly, and Yasha were still swinging when the clan effectively pinned them. And while that normally wouldn’t have stopped them, there were so, so many goblins all around them. Nott locked eyes with Caleb for a split second before she dropped her crossbow, hands raised in surrender.
Nott would do many things for her own safety. Risking Caleb wasn’t one of them.
That didn’t stop the cold terror as recognition sparked in the goblins’ eyes. All looking at her, realizing who it was that came into their camp.
“Well, well,” said a rusty voice, thick goblin accent in it. Nott froze, all her muscles locked, and tried not to think about the literal dozen eyes on her. Both of her families, new and old, were staring directly at her when the tribe leader stepped forward. “If it isn’t little Nott.”
Nott spared a glance to her friends. The goblins were ruthlessly efficient, already surrounding their small huddle. Everywhere she looked, there were goblins she used to know and hate. The Nein moved together, Caleb and Jester in the middle with just a tiny bit of space to fit herself. It was a habit they’d made when they grouped like this. Nott wanted nothing more than to take her place there with them.
She walked out of the circle, standing in front of her family.
The leader of the clan stepped forward as well, absurdly smug. He was the chubbiest of the goblins, which only meant he wasn’t thin as a stick like the rest. Besides the familiar scars and war paint, the biggest point of remembrance was the cruel expression on his face.
It was one she had seen many times in her nightmares.
“You’ve come back to us, child,” he said in goblin. The statement sounded less happy and more like a taunt. “The Veth we knew-“
“Don’t!” Nott snarled, hating the way Jester flinched at the sound of her native language.
(Not native at all. But these people didn’t know halfling, and she didn’t have the excuse to use the only language she’d ever feel comfortable with.)
“Don’t ever say that name,” she went on, nails - claws, they were claws, they’d never be nails again- digging into her palms. “You killed her. You ruined her. Don’t say that name.”
“Still bitter, huh?” he asked, head tilted in a way that reminded her too much of Yasha. “I thought you would enjoy being back. You even brought dinner.”
Two eager goblins started to move, rushing towards her little pack, and Nott’s body moved on instinct.
She’d never really liked her sword. The crossbow was so much better at protecting. But when she struck both in one swing, killing them at once, she was grateful she’d kept it.
Taking another step backwards, putting herself between the Nein and her tribe, she spoke with the slightest waver.
“Spare them,” she said. Hopefully it sounded more confident than she truly was. “I’ll do anything.”
The leader hadn’t moved. Nott knew he wouldn’t; none of the clan really cared if the others lived or died, so long as there weren’t too many at once. The difference between them and the Mighty Nein- the way Caleb would sprint forward with a healing potion when she hit the ground, how Beau had dragged her away when she was unconscious, how Jester refused to do much as stop moving until they were all able to get back in their feet- was jarring.
“To save all of them,” leader said thoughtfully, folding his arms. Nott hated that she flinched with the movement, flashing to days when those arms would hit her. “That’s a hefty price, child.”
“I will pay it,” she answered solemnly. There was no hesitation, even though it chilled her to her core. “They go free, and I am yours.”
Caleb lurched forwards about half a step before someone- probably Beau, but any of them could beat her boy when it came to strength- stopped him. Part of her wondered when he’d bothered casting his Comprehend Languages spell, while the rest felt numb.
The leader’s face split into an evil grin, too pleased with what was happening. “I have just the thing,” he said, turning. He flicked his wrist at some goblins off to the side, who scurried towards Nott. The same happened to her friends, and she wondered if they’d resist. She didn’t try as the goblins dragged her along.
Anything to save them. Anything.
They moved for about half a mile, paths that were achingly familiar and yet so distant. Her legs moved on muscle memory, practically gliding over the terrain as her friends were hustled along. Other goblins were distracted along the way, splitting off to do their own things, while some joined the band, catching rumor of a show coming soon.
Finally, the woods spilled out into an opening. For the second time, Nott froze, terror pulsing through her veins.
“No,” she whispered, horror coursing through her. “No, please.”
“It is our deal,” leader said, and oh gods he was speaking in Common. He wanted the others to hear. “Remember the first time you drowned, little one? I said to make you suffer.” He smiled, teeth mangled and bloody. “Do you want to save them?”
Nott couldn’t say anything. There was no air around her, none in her lungs. Only the memory of burning, of screaming and begging and thrashing, desperate to breathe breathe breath, please-
For a split second, Nott wanted to be a coward. To say no, to run far, far away again.
She thought of Jester letting her doodle in her sketchbook together, of Beau teaching her defensive stances, of Molly carrying her when she was tired, of Fjord promising to take care of her boy, of Yasha accepting the flowers as a peace offering, of Caduceus with gentle pats on her head and tea for stormy nights.
She thought of Caleb, a scared little boy in a jail cell who would grow up to do incredible things.
“Yes,” she answered. She didn’t hear the gasps of horror behind her, the way Fjord was already summoning the Falchin, the way Caleb started chanting under his breath.
Her words were signal enough. The two beside her lunged, dragging her to the water’s edge.
“Goodbye, Nott Veth,” the leader laughed.
And she was underwater.
There was no time to take a breath before she went down. Only to see a fireball erupt behind her, blood spattering as Vicious Mockery filled the air.
Bubbles started to escape her mouth, and the hands holding her down tightened. Nott felt the same panic from all those years ago claw at her throat, desperate for air, for freedom, for life. She flailed instinctively, terrified more than she’d ever been in her life, and the response was her head being pushed further down.
Her eyes closed without her permission, visions of her families flooding her sight. Curled up with Caleb on the hotel beds, Frumpkin in her lap. Her son against her chest, Yeza against her back. Jester and MollyMauk tickling her one night, all bursting into laughter. Beau and Fjord and Yasha and Cad all sheltering her from the rain, telling stories to help her sleep.
She inhaled, choking on river water.
Veth died for her family once. Nott wouldn’t mind doing it again.
Suddenly the pressure against her reversed. Hands holding her down were replaced by half a dozen yanking her upward. The world spun as she broke through the surface, unable to remember how to breathe until someone- really strong, maybe Fjord- smacked her hard in the back.
Water burned through her lungs as she coughed it up, heaving air that hurt just as much. There was a solid ringing in her ears, slowly disappearing as more and more precious oxygen rushed through her. Eventually, she managed to hear six different voices, all different levels of consoling or begging or instructing. None of it made sense, but it was familiar enough to ground her as she threw up everything left in her lungs.
“Nott,” said a soft, clear voice. She jolted some, panic resulting for a moment before she met Caleb’s eyes. He was looked at her, oh so careful and worried. “Nott, you’re shaking.”
She was. She really, really was. It didn’t matter if the sun was warm, and the water hadn’t been very cold at all.
Her mouth opened for words that refused to come, only coughing. But that was enough for Caleb- he was so, so smart, she wouldn’t never deserve him- to know exactly what was wrong. “Molly,” he said, voice low. “Can you-“
Warm arms wrapped around her, and if there was any energy left in her she would have fought. But she knew that smell, every spice she never knew existed and whatever new item he’d snagged from a place they’d visited. The god-awful tapestry he refused to get rid of wrapped around her shoulders, and suddenly she wasn’t on the ground anymore.
“I’ve got her,” the teifling answered, a stony fire she hadn’t heard from him before radiating through the words. “Help the others.”
Caleb looked at her again- she wished she could make him stop worrying about her, she didn’t deserve that- before nodding, turning away towards the trees. There were no goblins in sight.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Molly said, tone gentler than was ever directed at her before. “I’ve got you. It’s all okay.”
It was only then she realized that it was so hard to breathe because she was sobbing.
“I didn’t...” Nott choked, clinging to herself. She looked up, too many emotions clouding her head. Whatever was on her face made Molly soften immediately, pulling her tighter against him. He was so warm, warmer than she felt she’d ever be again. “I had to...protect you. But the water-“
She cut herself off, squeezing her eyes shut against the tremors wracking her body.
“Hey, hey, look at me, Nott,” Molly said, tilting her face towards him. Her eyes cracked open, tears starting to come unbidden, and he gently wiped them away. “Hey. Its okay, we’ve got you. You’re never going to be near water ever again, okay?”
The way he said it promised miles between her and whatever river, lake, or ocean they stumbled across. It was the same way they kept Caleb from looking at campfires, or Molly himself from anyone who looked a bit too knowingly. The happy, warm feeling she hadn’t gotten used to bloomed in her chest.
Molly was already walking away from the river, shielding her view of it as they moved by holding her to his chest. Nott peeked our from behind his coat, immediately stunned.
“Don’t worry,” Molly reassured her, petting her hair. “The others are...let’s say, cleaning up.”
That was one word for it. There were dozens of goblins scattered all over the ground, like a tornado had cut its way through. Seawater dripped from one bloody body while a single black feather rested on another. Many, many more were scorched, burned away under intense magic. There were even some who looked like they’d clawed at their own ears until they died, Molly’s specialty.
Nott stared, blinking as she tried to understand what her brain was telling her. That these misfits she loved, that she would die for, were willing to take down a literal army to protect her.
Carefully, like he did when comforting Yasha or handling his swords, Molly tilted her head away. River to their backs and carnage to the front, he moved her to face only his chest. He didn’t even seem bothered by river water soaking his gorgeous outfit.
“I love you,” she heard herself say, voice distant but so, so open. And even though she hadn’t meant to say it, the words were true nonetheless.
Molly would have gotten away with whatever emotions flickered through him if he hadn’t faltered in his step. Just before Nott could wonder what she’d done wrong, his arms tightened around her even further.
“Yeah,” he mumbled softly, pulling her closer. “Me too.” And then, with a touch more fervor in his step, added, “Let’s go find our family, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Nott said, trembling hands going for her flask. She took a swig, grateful for the warmth it seemed to give her every time, and offered it to Molly. Without hesitation, he gulped down a few mouthfuls and handed it back.
By the time they arrived to the rest of the group, the scene was too pathetic to be called a fight. It was more like obliteration of whatever unlucky goblins happened to have survived. Fjord was cleaving with a rage paralleled to Yasha’s, both splitting anything that came near. Beau was in the thick of it, as usual, but the goblins seemed to be running from her. None of them made it very far before ninja stars caught them. Cad, normally gentle and less inclined for fighting, was spiraling radiant energy at the goblins close to him, eyes ruthless. Jester was spitting rebukes and curses in Infernal at anything that moved, occasionally tapping Caleb next to her to cure whatever little scrapes he wasn’t noticing.
And Caleb. There was fire, lots of it, and for once he didn’t even seem to mind. Several corpses were charred- including, Nott noted with a strange tightness in her chest- the leader of the clan.
Molly held her tighter, walking towards their group. Quite literally, there was no one left to stop them.
Minutes passed in a blur until there suddenly was no one left to oppose them. All as one, the Nein converged on Nott.
Nott blinked past the dozens of emotions flirting through her, focusing on breathing. Her mouth moved without her permission.
“I drowned, once. It was scary.” She looked up at them, swallowing. She wanted to tell them everything. She wanted to run away. “I- I don’t want to drown again.”
Then Caleb was there, hands on her cheeks carefully. He smoothed her tears away, looking so heartbroken that for an absurd second she wanted to comfort him.
“Never again, Liebling,” he promised, voice steady despite the few tears running out of his eyes.
“Nott,” Fjord said softly, more serious than he’d ever been. Her eyes drifted to his, feeling like she was floating. Molly’s hands on her was the only thing keeping her grounded, keeping her from floating away.
Fjord didn’t seem to mind. “Nott, don’t ever do that again,” he said. He was still serious, but there was a crack in his voice.
He was worried about her, she registered blankly.
“You don’t need to pay any price alone. Not again.” He scrubbed at his own eyes, and Nott reached for him on instinct. The orc didn’t hesitate to take the cue, scooping her up against his warm chest and ignoring how she was probably still drenched. “Never again.”
Nott closed her eyes, exhausted. “I drowned for Yeza,” she said, just loud enough for them all to hear. “He ran and I made a distraction, and they drowned me. And then they brought me back, and they kept me.”
“They’re all gone now,” Beau said, her own version of reassuring. Looking at her face was like watching fire burn, so she reached for her as well. “They’ll never hurt you again.”
“I’m sorry,” Nott whispered, a million miles away. And then Caleb was there again, holding her against him, against the rest of the world. The Nein were huddled around as well, a shield to protect her from what her last life had done to her.
“You are truly Nott the Brave,” Caduceus said, chest rumbling against her as he spoke. Nott choked out a laugh.
“I’m still crying,” she answered, not unkindly. Because Cad never wanted to hurt anyone along the way, but he did. He broke his own rules to protect her, and she didn’t know what to think of that. “I’ve cried since I came out of the water.”
“Tears don’t make you any less brave,” Jester piped up from right behind her. Fingers were deftly wringing her hair out without any of it actually touching Nott’s skin. She reached one hand back silently, grateful when Jester squeezed it. “You’re amazing, Nott.”
Nott didn’t believe it. But as she slowly dried off, squeezed between all of her friends and warmed from the fires of her old tribe, maybe she would start to.