WHO Shaun Gilmore & Vexâahlia WHERE The Xhorhaus WHEN January 31, 2022 WHAT Vex comes home and she and Gilmore share breakfast and a heaping side of sad. WARNINGS Talk of death, guilt, lots of sads, spoilers through the end of CR C1
For as much as Vex knew she needed to be with her brother, sheâd made the choice to stay at Greyskull Keep the night before. She was no closer now than she had been when sheâd woken up to the new memories to having processed nearly the half of it all, but being there had made her feel closer for a moment to the people who werenât here with them. To Percy, if she was honest with herself. Her husband. Gods, if her love life hadnât already been complicated as fuck. Thinking about him hadnât actually helped anything. If anything, it had added an entirely different level of guilt to her already tumultuous emotions, even if she only just remembered having been married to him. But while it hadnât necessarily helped, it had been what sheâd needed last night. Sheâd needed the quiet of the Keep, the time with her thoughts, the ghostly presence of another life.
But when sheâd woken up, everything had still been awful. She still remembered snowdrops, and Vaxâs cool embrace, and no amount of staring at Percivalâs handwriting scribbled throughout his journals had done anything to provide peace or clarity. So Vex had done the only other thing she knew how to doâsheâd woken her bear, gathered her things, and set off into the forest of Vallo.
Vex had spent the greater part of the early morning in the forest. Sheâd been there early enough to see the sunrise peek through the boughs of the trees and hear the woodland creatures slowly rousing from their own slumbers. Sheâd thought to attempt a hunt to get her mind off of her memories but she hadnât been able to bring herself to nock an arrow and draw her bow and decided that doing anything as productive as hunting was likely not in the cards for the day. Part of her had wanted to use the cover of the forest to scream, but that, too, had required more effort than she felt capable of.
At some point, Trinket had nudged her out of her own thoughts and, together, theyâd made their way back out of the forest and began the trek back to the Xhorhaus, back to her not-exactly-alive brother, back to reality. She let herself in the back door and had just started setting her bow and quiver down in the kitchen when she looked up and locked eyes with Shaun. Quietly, she turned back to her task and said, âMorning, darling.â
Gilmore, for all of his love of the finer things, was surprisingly an early riser. Years of running his own business had him used to burning a fragrant candle at both ends and that was a hard habit to break. There was always something to do, anyway, even if that something was as simple as taking the girls to school. And for all of his love of the finer things, sometimes those simple things meant more.
Right now he was standing by the stove, stirring a pot of a thick porridge, honey and rosewater and pistachios scattered throughout, with a wooden spoon, when Vexâahlia came in. Gilmore hurt for the twins. He would never not hurt for them, a deep rooted ache he felt so acutely. He loved them. Vax with a love that was fully committed, planning a future from the word go and forever a little starry eyed no matter how long theyâd been together. And Vex, with a familial, kindred spirit sort of way. Vexâahlia worked for everything, and did not accept what others gave her because she deserved better. Gilmore had always liked Vex, she made him laugh with her bargaining, and he knew what she could do if given half of a chance.
They shared grief, too.
He pressed a delicate tea cup, embossed with gold filigree and holding a dark tea smelling like something straight off a market cart in AnkâHarel with warming spices like cardamom, cinnamon, and ginger into Vexâs hands. âHere, darling, itâs far too early and cold to be traipsing around the woods.â Alright, yes, Vexâahlia was a ranger who had an instinctive knowledge of the woods and didn't need to be fussed over...but Gilmore was going to do it anyway. That included Trinket, who received a scratch behind his ears. "I'm afraid I don't have anything for you, I do apologize," he informed the bear, with all the solemnity that such an apology warranted.
The familiar smells of Shaun's work in the kitchen and the sudden warmth now spreading through her fingertips were somehow the first thing since she'd woken up the morning before that had brought Vex any comfort, minute though it was. She stared down at the teacup as though trying to process exactly what it was she held in her hands. When she realized it was Shaun's tea that was chipping at the angry ball of knots inside of her, she felt her shoulders slack and her lip begin to tremble, barely perceptible.
At once, she straightened her shoulders, shook it off, and lifted her chin, daring herself to cry again and somehow managing to intimidate her own composure back into place.
"It was Trinket's idea, if we must blame someone," she offered, and though it was meant as a joke, she was self-aware enough to know her tone lacked the appropriate humor. Trinket grumbled at her side, either from the blame, the lack of a treat from Shaun, or both. He wasn't too upset to lumber on into the kitchen and nose at the rubbish bin for anything Velora had inevitably tossed in there half-eaten.
Vex lowered herself into one of the chairs sat around the table. "Thank you for the tea," she said. "Join me for a cup? Unless the porridge needs attention, of course."
Gilmore wouldnât do Vex the disservice of pointing out the internal war she was waging. Vaxâs expressions, everything he was feeling as soon as he felt it, read clearly on his face because he was a terrible liarâa fact that was adorable, without a doubt, but still a fact. Vexâahlia had a natural charm and charisma that she welded as expertly as her bow and arrow, but she also built walls around her heart. Vax walked away (less now, it was a work in progress), Vex would stand her ground until you moved. âActually,â he said, moving to sit across from Vex. âItâs ready now. I hope youâre hungry.â
With a twist of his wrist Gilmore summed up an incorporeal floating hand (and if that hand seemed to wear one too many rings on its fingers, well, he did love to add his own flair to things) to bring over two bowls of steaming porridge, one to Vex and one to Trinket. Trinketâs went on the floor in front of him with a verbal warning from Gilmore: âThatâs hot, Trinket, do be careful,â and a precautionary eyebrow arch that was most likely wasted on the bear. The hand disappeared and reappeared with another teacup, this one etched with a butterfly perched on a twig. Look closely at it and the butterflyâs wings would open and close. And then, because Gilmore knew Trinket was a bear and had no patience, the mage hand zipped over to the bowl on the floor and flapped back and forth to cool down the porridge before Trinket gobbled it in one go and was grouchy from a burned tongue.
He covered Vexâs hand with his own and squeezed once. âDid you find what you were looking for out there?â
Though Vex always went out of her way to bestow over-the-top flattery on Shaun whenever the opportunity presented itself to do so, she did genuinely appreciate just how very him he was. From the ringed hand to the intricately and magically designed teacups, she couldnât think of a single thing she would have made different just then. Somewhere along the road, he had become so much more than just the charismatic and fabulous shopkeep they too often forgot to market as well as theyâd promised. He was as integral to Vox Machina as each member was. He was herâ brother. He wasnât her twinâno one else ever could beâbut he was family. And though she wasnât quite up for acknowledging that fact for what it was that morning, a small part of her allowed herself to be glad to have him here.
Vex didnât move her hand when he reached for it. She didnât have an answer for him yet, though, so she watched Trinket for a moment as he first tested the porridge being cooled by the conjured hand, then messily took to cleaning up the bowl once he found the heat sufficient. Feeling her eyes on him, he glanced up to look at her and she felt the corner of her lip tug upward before falling again just as quickly. Trinket knew she was in distress, but she had not told him why just yet. That would require saying it out loud.
Finally, she looked back at Shaun, shaking her head once. âIâm not entirely sure I thought Iâd find anything out there, or at the Keep, either one,â she said. âIt was just something to do.â Something normal, even if it had felt anything but. âHave you had better luck?â
âAhâno,â Gilmore started, and just for a moment he lookedâŚtired. Wan. Shaunâs bravado and confidence were sincere, just as his unending and steadfast support. But he was, admittedly, terrible at revealing much about himself. His humble beginnings, the source of his magic, even after heâd battled a dragon and was bleeding out, Gilmore tried to put on a good front. Seeing how absolutely heartbroken Vex was and knowing how Vax was so hesitant to even accidentally make contact because of chilled skin and how he stared at the dark mark on his chest like his body was a stranger, well. Gilmore chose to be strong for them.
âI thought about redecorating the room, but it would be absolutely wasted on your brother, who says he notices things, when he most assuredly does not.â He rolled his eyes, forever fond, forever besotted, but then turned his attention back to Vex and squeezed her hand again before withdrawing his with a gesture for her to eat.
âDarling,â he said, after a moment. âYou donât have to tell me anything at all if youâd rather not. Iâm perfectly capable of making conversation, or sitting with you in silence. But if you do, Iâm here. Thereâs no expiration date on that either, Iâll always listen.â
Vexâahlia noticed the momentary slip in Gilmoreâs exterior, not because heâd been obvious about it, but because it was a look she recognized. A look she likely mirrored whenever her composure slipped, too. The exhaustion was at least part of it. Her heart felt for him. Of course this would be hard on him, too. She hadnât doubted that fact for a moment. She knew just how much Shaun cared for her brother, and she loved him for it. But she also knew how much it hurt to love Vaxâildan right now, even if there was no wish to change that love even if it were possible. She knew how much it hurt to see someone you loved hurt, too.
She took the handle of the spoon in her hand and lifted it to her mouth, taking a small bite. It was delicious, as usual, but her heart just wasnât in it. Despite her lack of appetite, though, sheâd keep eating it because Shaun had made it for her, even if not specifically.
âIâm sad to inform you that I inherited almost all traces of taste between the two of us, and the only taste he inherited was reserved for falling for such a glorious man such as yourself,â she returned, find it easier to fall into that easy banter than it was to talk about herself or what had sent her to the forest so early in the first place. She wondered if it was the same thing that had driven Shaun to get up and make the tea and porridge, too.
A worrisome thought occurred to her then. Lifting her head to look back up at her breakfast partner, Vex quietly asked, âShaun, did youâ know this was going to happen?â
âOh, Vexâahlia, no,â Gilmore said, quickly, with both a shake of his head and a furrow of his brow that threatened to form a wrinkle. âI havenât known anything since the rakshasa and assassins came after us. Whatever I know now is because of you and Vax, not my own memories.â If they had been in Exandria that would have been how it was as well. Gilmore didnât go on the adventures, he stayed behind, waiting and hoping and believing. When the weary adventurers returned to a home base, he listened, consoled, and consulted on all things arcane, and when they left it was back to waiting and hoping and believing, while attempting to keep the city-state of Whitestone safe.
âI knew you would succeed, but I knew that from the moment I met all of you, copperless and you, specifically, trying to woo me with your charm and winks.â He offered one of his own winks, also forever fond of Vex, before turning solemn again, his gaze falling to his tea as if that held some sort of answer or relief for them.
Unsurprisingly, there was neither to be found.
The clank of the bowl against the floor thanks to a hungry bear sniffing around for more pulled Gilmore from his temporary trance. âVex, Iâm afraid for all of the words I have, I donât have the right ones for you here and now. I can only say that here, itâs different. Itâs Vaxâs second chance, and itâs yours as well. The Raven Queen,â Gilmore drummed his bedazzled fingers against the table. âIsnât here. Vax has tried, repeatedly, and has received only silence.â Which was both a blessing and a boonâShaun thought that perhaps if she did give him some sort of appearance, Vax could ask his questions and get something of an answer. He seemed to have made peace with the fact that his goddess didnât exist in Vallo and wouldnât cross the plane to do so, but, still. Then again, perhaps having a presence would be worse, like they would be in constant fear, the pendulum swinging back and forth, lower and lower.
âAnd if she did appear here and attempted anything untoward, she has us to contend with.â Gilmore whipped his hair over his shoulder and propped his elbows on the table, chin resting against his folded hands. âYou and I against a goddess? Darling, I would take those bets anyday.â
The prevailing emotion cycled back to relief as Shaun confirmed that he had not, in fact, known ahead of time that she and her brother would likely remember something like this. While part of her still knew that it was unfair to hold Cassandra accountable for trying to protect them from it for as long as she could, she couldn't see past what felt like a betrayal. She couldn't feel more than the unfounded certainty that maybe this would have hurt less if she'd known to expect it. If Shaun had known it, too, and kept it from her, Vex wasn't entirely sure what she would have done. She already felt so incredibly alone right now.
But then he continued and Vex could feel rather than see her knuckles turning white as her fingers tightened unrelenting around the handle of her spoon. Trinket gruffed and looked up from his quest for more scraps, sensing the sudden shift in Vex's volatile mood.
"Oh, yes," she said, eyes trained on the center of her bowl, "all it would take would be the pair of us standing between her and my brother." Her shoulders trembled with the effort it took to keep her voice. "Because we didn't already try to bargain for more time. Because my fucking husband didn't already try to stand against her when she came to take my brother." That wasn't what Shaun was saying. She knew it the same way she knew that Cassandra hadn't tried to hide this truth from her to hurt her. But these words, Cassandra's secrets, Vex's anger and her grief--they were all the same as they churned together in one slowly erupting volcano. It was burning her from the inside and a terrible part of her wanted it to burn everyone and everything else, too.
"Do you really think if we could have fought her for him, we wouldn't have?" Now her hands trembled and she wrapped them around the bowl in an effort to steady them. "Your bets are shit. We wouldn't be able to do a fucking thing." It wasn't until she was startled by the sound of clattering on the floor and Trinket's surprised grunt that she realized she'd swept her bowl of porridge clear off the table.
She'd cycled back to guilt now.
Gilmore waited, absorbing every verbal blow like a barrage of Magic Missiles, one after the other after the other. It all hit, he flinched as if they were actual attacks, but said nothing. Vexâs grief was a raw, palpable thing. She had lost so much already, only to lose more now. He wasnât entirely certain what Vex and the rest of Vox Machina had known about Vaxâs deal with the Raven Queen, if he had revealed some of it, all of it, or kept it to himself. Even if they had all known, they were likely holding out some kind of hope. Some sort of last minute miracle that somehow, Vox Machina were always able to employ. In this one instance, their luck had run out. Save Exandria, lose Vax.
He was up and next to Vex the next minute, pulling her from her chair and wrapping his arms around her, tightly, as if that was enough to keep her together. It wasnât, but Gilmore would do his best for Vex and Vax, holding both twins up when they didnât have the strength. âWhat happened is not an indication of your love for your brother, or his love for you. You deserved to spend the rest of your life with your twin by your side, and Iâm very sorry you didnât get that. None of this,â Gilmore pulled away enough to meet and hold Vexâs gaze. âWas your fault.â Likely she didnât believe him, but he would say it again and again until it somehow sank in through the walls and walls of sadness and rage.
The parts of Vex that had been taught to believe that she would never be good enough, strong enough, brave enough to deserve anything in this life that she did not demand for herself resisted Shaun's words. She didn't deserve his comfort, that voice told her. She didn't deserve his absolution, his understanding, his assurance. Because, the voice said, what would have happened if she'd made a better deal after the Aramente? What would have happened if she'd fought harder against Vecna the first time they'd met him? What if she had protected her reckless brother instead of always letting him do the protecting?
What if she had done better?
What if she had been smarter?
What if?
What if?
She relented, the energy draining from her with each impossible question. Teeth clenched against the sobs that quaked through her, arms slack against her side, she let herself be held as she cried.
Her voice cracked around the only words she had for him, low and quiet. "I'm sorry. I'm--" She shook her head, sucking in an unsteady breath. What words could unshoot her arrows? What could she say that could even begin to explain what she felt when she didn't even really know that answer from one moment to the next?
Vex was just so godsdamned tired. Tired of feeling like they could never win. Tired of fighting. Tired of useless gods. (What good was being a champion of Pelor if he couldn't give her Vax?) Tired of...everything.
Gilmore expected the flood of emotions, heart wrenching as it was to witness. Vex was wound so tightly she was practically thrumming from sorrow and strong as she was, that build up, especially when it concerned her brother, it had to come out. She couldnât live with that. Trying to do so would only have it fester until it changed her irrevocably. More than she had already been changed.
He filled the space in between Vexâs sobs with a comforting murmur, nothing more concrete than reassuring sounds that she wasnât alone in spite of how abandoned she felt. And then, GIlmore merely shook his head at the apology, waving it off with a hand. The action served two purposes, to indicate that Vexâs words were unnecessary but also to pull a mulberry colored silk handkerchief from the air, with which he carefully wiped Vexâs cheeks and the corners of her eyes. âYouâre entitled to all of your feelings, darling, and to take as long as you need to experience everything. Going through what you have is a terrible, terrible thing, and thereâs no guidebook on how to survive the aftermath.â
There was a kind of comfort in Shaun's words, even if they weren't entirely what she wanted to hear. Barring being told it had all been a terrible misunderstanding, that Vax had never left her, she wanted to hear that this would all pass in a couple of days. That she would wake up soon and be able to enjoy the fact that they still had Vallo. But Vex knew better. She knew what it was to grieve what was lost, and what it was to feel like what she wanted was just out of her grasp. She had been raised in that feeling, had grown in that reality. She knew that there was no easy fix to this and no accelerated way out of the thorny path ahead of them.
She just had to go through it.
And even though she knew that, it still made her feel ever-so-slightly less alone knowing that her feelings were validated and that Shaun could so easily forgive her of the ugliness of them. She knew what it was to live in this feeling, but that didn't make her any better at knowing how to traverse it.
Vex cried until she felt hollow and raw from it, and eventually her arms came around Shaun, too, returning the embrace. It wasn't porridge and it wasn't the right words, but it was what she had and she hoped it told him that she understood that they were irreversibly in this together.