It hadn't been the greatest of days for Vax, though he realized now that was probably of his own making. After sneaking out of bed that morning and leaving a short note for Gilmore (New memories. I'll talk to you about them later. V) so he at least knew that Vax hadn't disappeared in the night like Vallo seemed to occasionally do to people, he'd spent the day wandering, hiding, throwing daggers at targets, and just wallowing in his own thoughts and feeling sorry for himself.
It wasn't a great look, he knew. Since being in Vallo, Vax had come a long way when it came to his ability to process and express his bigger emotions. Whenever he felt that immediate response of walking away from a situation that made him uncomfortable, he reminded himself that he wasn't alone, that he had support. It had gotten easier and easier to conjure up Gilmore's voice reminding him of how that support was part of being in a relationship or Vex's words about how they would always be there for one another. But on the tail of so many memories, memories of loss and love of another and arguments and misunderstandings that culminated in his death and resurrection -- he had taken a step back in his progress.
But if anyone was good at pushing him back onto the right path, it was his sister. The twins had their entire lives of experience doing so for each other and Vax was grateful. As much as his heart still ached (and he was fairly certain it wasn't because of the souvenir the Raven Queen had left him), he knew that he had too much in Vallo that would hurt even more to lose.
And so, Vax used his not insignificant skills to go from Caleb's tower and up through the house to the bedroom he shared with Gilmore undetected. It wasn't that he didn't want to see any of the others, especially Velora, but he just needed to have this conversation first and to have said conversation where he was most at ease. It was also somewhere he knew Gilmore would return to eventually, letting them simply find each other.
Vax returned his daggers and belt to their rightful places, changed into more comfortable clothes, and then fell into the bed, crowding over onto Gilmore's side, just because he could. He would wait as long as he needed to, but there was no rule saying he couldn't wait in the comfort of a pile of blankets and pillows.
Gilmore had rolled over in the morning, already suspicious that something was amiss when he didnât wake up with a sleepy rogue wrapped around him. And yes, sure enough, Vax had been gifted with memories of the future, a future Gilmore himself had no idea how to navigate. He had become used to--as much as one could, at least--sending Vox Machina off with advice and hope and waiting for them to come back while they faced who knew what. But his relationship with them was different in TalâDorei, as much as Gilmore cared for them, they were a separate entity. Now, with his life increasingly entwined with Vaxâs, there was no real separation. What happened to Vax happened to him, all of the joy and struggles, laughter and sorrow, all of it.
Gilmore was a fixer, as Nesta had so astutely pointed out, and he didnât know how to âfixâ this. So instead, he worked on everything around him. He sent a note back to Vax, nothing long or involved or asking for an answer, just a reminder written in large swoops and flourishes that he was always close by. And then he went to work: to the shop where he was a whirl and a bustle of activity, enchanting and crafting, to pick up Velora from school, help with homework, make dinner, run over the sums from the shop from the day, past week, month.
He came back to their room to retrieve some spell components, stopping short when among the mass of blankets and throw pillows of various colors and textures (if anyone expected Gilmore, with a giant unicorn tapestry hanging in the shop, to not have a plethora of bedding, clearly he was not doing a good job of displaying his true nature) was Vax, curled up like heâd finally found sanctuary.
The mattress dipped under Gilmoreâs weight, as he rested his back against the (entirely ostentatious and expansive, surprise, surprise) headboard. With one hand he combed through Vaxâs dark hair, the other hand making a gesture to draw a book from across the room. âIâd like to sit here and read for a bit, darling, is that alright with you?â
Vax wasn't Scanlan -- a thought that inspired a whole array of emotions, given what Vax now remembered from what happened in Whitestone. He wasn't as prolific as his friend, but in that moment he wished that he was, just so he had the ability to describe the feelings of comfort and love that washed through him at the sight of Gilmore as he walked into their bedroom. Yes, he thought as he shifted to make room for the other man as he sat beside him, Vax's head coming to rest on Gilmore's thigh. Yes, he was an idiot for not just coming to him in the first place.
Vax's response to the question came by way of a slight nod, combined with his wrapping his hand gently around Gilmore's knee. He would talk to him. He both wanted to and felt like Gilmore deserved more than what he had given him in the note that morning. But, as he let his eyes flutter shut and released a long breath, he thought he could be selfish and take advantage of his boyfriend's seemingly endless stores of patience when it came to Vax for just a few moments more. It had only been a day of feeling out of sorts and Vex had helped in pushing Vax back into place, but Gilmore's presence only cemented it.
He wasn't sure how much time passed before he spoke, his words prefaced by one more sigh. "I know that I'm being melodramatic and I'm sorry for it."
True to his word, Gilmore let the only noise be the routine turning of a page and the soft sound of his fingers traveling against Vaxâs scalp. Curious and concerned though he was, Gilmore simply didnât see the benefit in pushing. Vax was here, he didnât have to be sought out or hunted down--though perhaps Vex had done that job and done it well, but the point remained. So until he was ready, Gilmore simply read, pausing his motions long enough to light a few candles to fill the room with golden light and the scent of amber, rose, and cinnamon.
âDarling, how dare you speak disparagingly of my beloved?â he asked, voice all warmth and fondness. Because of course he hurt when his partner did, of course he was worried about what had shell shocked Vax so, but nothing would change how he felt and how he would react. If he couldnât live through these memories with Vax, at the very least heâd provide a soft place to land.
He set aside his book and turned his focus to Vax. Not that it wasnât on him at most times, he seemed to always be aware of where Vax was even when he was lurking in the shadows. âWhat do you need, Vax? Right now.â
That was the question, wasn't it? Vax considered it for a quiet moment, just appreciating the feel of Gilmore's fingers in his hair and his solid presence, soaking it all in before he inevitably would have to move. Which he did a moment later, slow and rolling his shoulders once before he repositioned to mirror Gilmore, Vax's back against the headboard. He turned his head, his heritage gifted from his father letting him examine the handsome features next to him in the light of the candles.
"Right now?" he repeated, his tone a bit thoughtful. Vax reached over for one of Gilmore's hands, his fingers tracing over knuckles. "This is a good start."
His gaze dropped then, watching their hands as he continued, "I'd like to tell you about what I remember, but first I need to make sure you're all right with that." Vax tore his eyes away, looking to meet Gilmore's eyes. "They're my memories, but it's still your future and I think you should have that choice." He hadn't been given a choice, after all. Though Vax knew he would have taken the chance had he been granted one, his curiosity and desire for answers too great, he couldn't take that away from the man he loved.
It was a good start, Gilmore thought, bringing their joined hands to his lips. He understood the need for space and even the urge to run away when things were simply overwhelming. Gilmore himself could be accused of hiding behind his showmanship and panache and have it be...a fairly accurate statement. For all of their teasing Vax for his predilection to walk away in the face of emotional moments, he had come leaps and bounds from where he once was. âSo easy, darling,â he said. Gilmoreâs jovial teasing wasnât because he didn't take Vaxâs feelings seriously. He did, he forever would. But sometimes Vax needed that levity to balance and ironically ground him.
âAnd have you carry it alone? I think not. My shoulders are broad, I can bear quite a bit,â Gilmore sniffed, as if indignant, but he let go of Vaxâs hand long enough to wrap that arm around his shoulders and kiss the side of his dark head. âIt can be now, it can be next week, Vax, love, but of course I want to hear it. Iâll not depreciate what youâve experienced, but youâre here, now.â
Vax all but melted into Gilmore's side, going so far as to nuzzle his cheek into one of those broad shoulders. With permission to move forward, he fell silent for a few moments as he tried to sort through the memories and decide where to start. The beginning made the most sense, he supposed, even if it was the end that was weighing on him so heavily.
And, as that thought formed in his mind, Vax straightened up and turned just enough to look at Gilmore's face. "We met your parents. I think I mentioned before that we had been planning to eventually go to Marquet and you were able to get us there, through the teleportation circle."
It meant something else to the Vax that existed in Vallo, the version of himself that knew what it was to fall asleep each night and wake each morning next to Gilmore, than the one in Exandria. There wasn't a version of Vax'ildan Vessar that didn't love Shaun Gilmore in one way or another, but there were the added layers of familiarity here that made it feel more momentous. He hadn't just met a friend's parents, but his boyfriend's parents.
"That's not what's -- there's more to say, obviously." Far more to say, unfortunately. "But, I thought you might want to know that."
âAh,â Gilmore started. His brow furrowed ever so slightly, mouth twisting a bit. All just enough to indicate the myriad of emotions and thoughts he was experiencing at the same time. It was a rare occurrence indeed for the man to be caught off-guard. Every so often, the seemingly indomitable confidence of Shaun Gilmore shook, revealing the much more vulnerable man underneath. There wasnât much that could do it--the rogue with the artful jawline next to him and Gilmoreâs past were on that very short list. He built up a persona that, truth be told, wasnât a persona so much as it was who Gilmore truly was. He would have suffocated if he had stayed, even if he had moved to the much larger city of AnkâHarel. Emon had been a fresh start, an opportunity to use his magic without fear, build a business that was all his own, come into himself. He would not, could not regret that.
But he had kept a teleportation circle not just in Marquet, but in the tiny village of Shandal, where his parents lived. He drew sigils every day for an entire year, even though he knew he would someday have the money to visit by more traditional means, because he wanted the ability to go there at any given moment. He sent money to his parents, which was always returned. Gilmoreâs parents were good people, and he missed them.
âIâm sure they were surprised to have all of you show up in their house unexpectedly,â he chuckled. âAnd Iâm surprised the wardrobe actually held you.â Gilmoreâs fingers tapped a nothing tune against Vaxâs pant leg, and, before he could think twice about it, he asked, âWhat did you think?â
Eyes already keen under normal circumstances, Vax's were especially so when it came to Gilmore and he saw those little changes in his expression. Their pasts weren't a frequent topic of conversation; Vax had shared the essentials and he had received enough from Gilmore that he felt that he had an accurate enough picture. That picture had filled out considerably thanks to the night of memories, even if he and the rest of Vox Machina hadn't spent very much time in Shandal or with the Geddmores.
"It barely held us," Vax said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small smile, "I got a face full of Grog's bare chest when we landed. And, ah. They were surprised. We interrupted their dinner, actually. They were very kind and offered to feed us, but we were on a timeline."
His gaze flicked down to Gilmore's hand, then Vax's own hand moved to still his fingers. Linking their hands together, he considered how to answer his question. "I think it all reminded me very much of where I grew up." Vax looked up to Gilmore. "I don't know if you ever had a reason to visit Byroden, but it's very small. I was much younger than you when Vex'ahlia and I left and while I think fondly of those years and wish we'd have had more time there with our mother, I know it wouldn't have been able to keep us forever, even if fate had been different. We weren't built for small, sleepy villages, no matter how strong our ties to them are." He lifted his free hand, his knuckles grazing along Gilmore's jawline. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you can relate."
Shaun Gilmore was as prolific as Scanlan (and actually, he liked to think he was more so) and even he found it difficult to put into words the depth and breadth of his feelings for Vax. Vax had sat in his shop and asked for a chance and from then on it was a non-starter of not giving his heart away, fully. âI wasnât then,â he agreed, gaze going that ridiculous softness it tended to do around his heartâs taker. âNow? I think thereâs something to be said for settling down--though perhaps without the sleepiness and small.â
He kissed Vax then, taking one more moment to be in âbeforeâ, before he knew what terrible future awaited or had befallen them. Gilmore had guesses, he had so many guesses, and they all started and ended with the perils of adventurers taking on chromatic dragons. He himself had nearly died dueling one, and still bore the scars across his chest and abdomen that revealed just how close it had been between nearly and definitely. Gilmore would always believe in Vox Machina but nine hells, he would always worry.
âBut I know meeting my parents wasnât enough to have you missing for the day--or at least, I certainly hope not.â
There certainly was something to be said for settling down, Vax had to agree. He could recognize that even the Vax that existed back in Tal'Dorei was beginning to come around to the same conclusion -- just with a different person. But in Vallo, settling down with Gilmore, with his sisters so nearby? The thought was more than enough for Vax to lean in, chasing Gilmore to follow up with just one more kiss. He couldn't stall away from what would undoubtedly be the hardest part of this conversation forever, but he couldn't help wanting to prolong the moment a bit more.
"It wasn't, no," Vax admitted. "There were some good things that happened and meeting them was definitely one of them." He tried to think of those good things, but it felt like a bit of a struggle in that moment. Each good thing seemed to come with a caveat. Yes, they had defeated the Chroma Conclave, but not without significant struggle and a lot of divine magic to bring a number of them back from beyond. Yes, they had brought Scanlan back, but only for him to leave. Yes, they had finished Keyleth's Aramente, but only for Vax to die.
"It's hard to know where to start," he admitted, leaning even more fully into Gilmore's side. "We took care of the dragons -- you actually helped us, in the fight with Thordak. And that -- it's good, you know? I should be thankful that we did that, but then we went to help Keyleth finish her Aramente and, ah." Vax hesitated, not knowing if this was the right way to approach the topic, if he should just barrel forward. But, was there a better way to tell the man that you loved that you died? Maybe, he considered, but he was beyond that now.
"I died, Shaun," Vax said, the words soft and wavering as they came out. "Pike brought me back, so maybe I don't have any right to be upset about it, but... it's all I can think about."
Because Vax was all but laying on top of him, Gilmore tugged him the rest of the way. With his thumbs, he followed the curve of Vaxâs shoulder blades, so sharp like the rest of him. He slowed his breath down intentionally, rhythmic, even, and deep in an attempt to coax Vax to do the same, and into the black curtain he murmured, âYouâre here, darling. Safe, alive, and here.â Gilmore said it not as a way to downplay the memories, but in hopes that the reminder would serve as an anchor to the present.
âYou donât need to qualify or make excuses for your feelings, Vaxâildan. Certainly not for my sake. Youâre allowed to feel upset, youâre allowed to feel sorrow, youâre allowed to be thankful, youâre allowed to be angry, youâre allowed to be anything other than what Iâve said.â Gods, Gilmore himself didnât know what he felt--maybe he was listing all of his own emotions, and all of it in a future he hadnât yet experienced, so it was all tangled up with that as well.
He sighed and kissed the top of Vaxâs head yet again, his own reminder to stay present. âI canât imagine all thatâs going through your head.â
It was easier than Vax would have guessed to relax into Gilmore, to simply sink into him and appreciate the feel of the other man's arms encircling him and match his breaths to his. Deeply, slowly, as he closed his eyes and kept himself present.
Though he didn't entirely know how to explain it, Vax could feel that it was somehow different to discuss all of this with Gilmore than it had been with Vex. Maybe it was because Vex had lived it or maybe it was because he would just never completely outgrow that need to protect her. Or, more likely, maybe it was simply because his willingness to be vulnerable with her had made his mask slip, leaving him unable to do much more than just feel now that he was shielded by the comforts of his own space and Gilmore. Whatever the case, he felt nothing but gratitude for them both as his partner held him and spoke the reassuring words that were exactly what Vax needed in that moment.
"I don't really know what's going through my head, to be honest," Vax murmured in response, then released a slow sigh. "All of that and the gods only know what else."
Speaking of the gods, Vax released another sigh before reluctantly sitting back. Usually his straddling Gilmore and moving to unbutton a shirt was for more exciting reasons, but his expression was less than rogue-ish as he pulled his shirt open to reveal the mark on his chest, near his heart. It looked like it could just be a bruise, but the timing and his brush with the Raven Queen was too coincidental to ignore. "But I do worry my goddess is getting possessive."
Carefully, gently, like he was handling an arcane wonder he wasnât quite sure of, Gilmoreâs fingers brushed the discolored skin. He was expecting--something. A jolt of divine rejection, perhaps, or a shock to his system. But no, he felt nothing out of the ordinary, only the deep and abiding love he had for Vax, and the undercurrent of concern that always ran there. âYouâre still the prettiest,â Gilmore promised. âIt happened after, I assume?â Death had always been a possibility for the ragtag group of adventurers known as Vox Machina. Not just a possibility, but something many of them had actually experienced. And the closer and closer it grew to a finale, the more and more death seemed to loom overhead.
He had thought, when Vax first presented himself as Champion of the Raven Queen, to suggest that in this new world, his promise of himself didnât matter. But as soon as that thought had come, Gilmore dismissed it, because it wasnât fair. Vaxâs loyalty, once given, couldnât be shaken. Besides that, heâd made the vow for his sister, and Vax would have never done anything to endanger Vexâahlia. It wasnât the path heâd wanted, but it was now the one he walked and Gilmore wanted to walk by his side, not stand as a barrier or act as shackles.
âI think you should commune with her,â he said, finally. âYouâre going to worry yourself sick until you do, darling, youâre going to assume the worst, and I wonât let you live in fear. Not now, youâre far drained, even as youâre a tempting morsel right now,â Gilmore added, with a rakish wag of his eyebrow for that attempt at levity. âBut sooner, rather than later. Talk to your goddess, my love, ask the questions you want to ask, listen to what she has to say. She has a vested interest in keeping you alive. We have that in common, you know, although we have quite different aesthetics.â
With Gilmore's hand at his chest, Vax raised one of his own. With a gentle touch, he sandwiched Gilmore's hand between his own and his chest, right where his heart was. He didn't know what plans the Raven Queen had for him. At home, it seemed like a long and winding path of what would almost undoubtedly be peril and adventure. Here, in Vallo, it might have been nothing at all. He didn't know exactly what the mark meant, Gilmore's suggestion to try to commune with her a sound one. What he did know, though, was that he didn't care where or how she tried to remind him of his pact to her; he and his heart belonged to one person. He had a feeling that the version of him that was still in Exandria would have agreed.
"Don't tell her, but I think I like your aesthetics more, even if I could never pull it off." It was his own attempt at levity that just managed to not fall short, despite the conversation. Gilmore was always able to put him at ease. "I will, though," Vax continued, "both commune with her and stay alive." He paused, lifting his free hand to cup Gilmore's cheek. "I know that I probably shouldn't promise that after those memories, but they're also a good reminder of how much I have to lose."
âIf sheâs talking to me, darling, then we have a much larger problem than a color pallet,â Gilmore chuckled. It was also not the peak of humor, but he was so relieved to hear Vaxâs joke that he wanted to respond in kind. It was like seeing a piece of him come back into focus, or put itself back in the right place. It was the easiest choice in the world, to love Vax. Even with the fear of the unknown, the memories, the chance of being ripped apart at any moment and sent back to a time when he didnât know the number of freckles dotting Vaxâs cheeks or the noise he made right when he woke up.
Shaun chose him. It was barely a choice at all.
He pushed himself up a bit more and pressed his forehead against Vaxâs. âYou, joy of my heart, are brave, and beautiful, and a damn good brother and man. The world is a better place with you in it. You may have a lot to lose, but we too would be bereft without you. Keep that promise, hm?â
"I will. I'm looking forward to that whole growing old with you thing too much to do anything else." It was a promise on top of a promise, but an easy one to make as Vax's arms circled around Gilmore's neck and just enjoyed the closeness between them. No matter how many lessons he learned or how much hindsight he was gifted, Vax knew that he would never, if given the chance, make a different choice in that tomb when he intended to give his life to the Raven Queen in exchange for his sister's. But he understood now how his actions impacted those that loved him; he may still have his doubts on particularly bad days that he deserved that love which was so freely given, but the fact it was given so freely couldn't be forgotten.
But fears of being torn back to a world where he didn't remember any of what he had in Vallo were shared by Vax, even if he knew that he was, for the most part, very happy back home. He had made his choice when he had nervously walked into Gilmore's shop and offered his heart to the other man, knowing he had every right to refuse it or not trust it. The chance that Gilmore had given Vax was one he would be forever grateful for.
Vax let his fingers bury themselves in Gilmore's hair, shifting his head just enough to share a gentle kiss. "I love you, Shaun," he murmured. "There is probably more that I should tell you, but -- I just need you to know how much I appreciate you. Thank you for being so patient with me, even when I slip out of bed and disappear for a day."
âI love you,â Gilmore echoed, because even with his plethora of multisyllabic words, those were the ones that always came the quickest to him. Faster than the arcane flow in his very marrow, faster than any spell, and much more powerful, it was its own sort of magic. One of the only mysteries heâd never find the answer to, and was at peace with that.
Vax was worth it. He was never not worth it. âI want to hear more,â he promised. âYou can always disappear, darling, so long as you come back.â He kissed Vaxâs forehead, lingering there. But then, Shaunâs smile turned impish and perhaps even a bit...roguish. âDoesnât mean I wonât attempt to make it a bit harder for you, next time. Iâm thinking bells somehow. I could make sexy bells for you.â
"Sexy bells," Vax repeated, leaning in as his arms embraced Gilmore tightly, his cheek coming to rest on the soft fabric of the other man's shoulder. "Now that I have to see."
He had more to tell and he would tell it. He would talk of Raishan's plot, Thordak's demise, and the final end of the Chroma Conclave. He would tell him about their losses, both permanent and temporary. He would describe the parting with Scanlan, then the meeting of Taryon. He would even go into his now officially blossoming relationship with Keyleth. Vax had always told Gilmore everything, even when they were at the very start of their flirtation in Emon. That hadn't changed, now that they were blissfully closer.
But -- later. They had time for all of that, even if neither of them had any real inkling of just how much. For now, though, Vax was happy to cherish this, the man that he loved, the family he had, the support he was freely given, the fact that he was alive. That morning had been hard and there would surely be other hard mornings to come, but for now -- now he just smiled.