WHO Vex’ahlia and Percy (NPC); Thanks to Jade for piloting him for me ♥♥♥♥ WHERE Their home in Whitestone WHEN Saturday, April 16, 2022; Early Morning (Backdated) WHAT Vex dreams a visit home and finds some comfort and some resolution, however bittersweet. CREDITArt WARNINGS Mentions of grief and loss, guilt.
Vex’ahlia remembered how she’d gone to sleep. It was how she went to sleep most nights as of late–tired and weary and cocooned in the cotton sheets that made up her bed in the Xhorhaus. Sometimes she fell asleep before she remembered to kick off her prized twin pair of boots of haste, sometimes she managed to slip into a modest dressing gown first. She most certainly never fell asleep in finely tailored dresses in smooth velvet. She ought to know, it wasn’t like Vallo presented occasions to wear such finery so often that she’d lose track of when she’d been wearing a dress the night before. And yet as she blinked open her eyes, she found herself stood in front of a mirror, one palm pressed against the skin that peeked through the opening at the front of her dress. This was not her room. This was not Vallo.
Panic did not give rise, however. The moment she realized that she was somewhere else completely, two laughing children ran past her with bows in their hands as a small bear bounded ahead of them. “Wolfe! Leona!” she heard herself calling out. “Darlings, please slow down. We don’t have time to fetch a healer for bloody noses before the artist is ready.” She reached up and adjusted one of her earrings, taking in the hints of gray in her hair that she spied in the mirror and the wrinkles of a life well-lived life at the corners of her eyes.
This was not how she’d gone to sleep. But somehow this was fine. Some part of her understood that this was a glimpse. She hadn’t abandoned Vallo, and she hadn’t found her way home. She didn’t quite understand what this was exactly, but she felt the tug of instinct to just…go with it. Go with the dress, go with the inexplicable reason why she knew the names of those children–her children--despite having no memory of how she knew them. Go with the small boon that was this however brief glimpse into something that felt like an inevitability.
Vex let it sink in. She was in her house. She was in her house with her family. Her family. Her pulse quickened as she glanced up, using the mirror to look behind her. If her family was here in this house filled with children whose names she knew but lives she did not, then there was another person here, too, who she did know, sometimes better than she knew herself. She dropped her hands to her side and turned on her heel, rushing further into her house, letting instinct guide her until she found a study that hinted at the brilliant mind that she knew was constantly at work within it.
“Percival?” she whispered as she stepped into the room. He was there, of course. She’d known he would be somehow. Probably tinkering with a clock until he absolutely had to stand for the family portrait. She took in the sight of him, the age he wore that neither of them had been sure either of them would get to see. He was still handsome. Happy, she thought. Distracted but content. She felt the tears prick at her eyes. “I thought I might find you here.”
I will be content with building a clock tower and never making another weapon again, Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III had once said, and it was something he’d held himself to from that day on. His dexterous hands and sharp, engineering mind had created things that destroyed, things that Percy knew would have dire ramifications long after he was gone. He couldn’t take that back. All he could do was keep himself busy creating things that did good–windmills for Keyleth in Zephrah, lights for Whitestone, wind-up mechanical toys for his many children and their friends.
He’d also turned away from public life, letting Vex take the lead in the Tal’Dorei Council as he let her take the lead in essentially every other facet of their lives. She was damned good at it too, why wouldn’t he? Case in point, the way she remembered the portrait session when Percy himself had almost certainly (read: definitely) forgotten because he’d lost himself in tinkering away.
“I am painfully a creature of habit,” he agreed, looking up at Vex through another one of his inventions: a pair of glasses with lens after lens in descending size order, meant to improve his sight on the very small and intricate mechanics Percy tended to work in. But that meant all he caught sight of was a bit of the intricate brocade on Vex’s dress, so Percy took off the glasses and blinked away the blurriness while he put on the ones he used for everyday wear. “You look beautiful as always, Vex’ahlia. Do you know, I believe we should consider portraiture its own type of torture? Both in the sitting and in the end result. The artists always do an admirable job of capturing your radiance and meanwhile, I never fail to look as if I’ve eaten a bad bit of cheese and am regretting every decision I’ve ever made.”
Vex’ahlia smiled fondly in spite of herself. She let herself be taken by the dream for a moment as she stepped toward him, close enough to press her hand to his cheek. “Hopefully not every decision, darling,” she teased. She could feel the realness of this. She might not be able to grasp all of the memories that led up to this moment–they did not belong to her yet–but she could easily imagine a life that led her here to this room while their children ran around outside this door and a painter waited impatiently for them to ready themselves for the portrait. This was the life that waited her back in Vallo and it simultaneously filled her heart with joy knowing they were alive together to make happy memories, and broke it knowing that Vax would not be there to make those memories with them.
Forever torn between two men who held her whole heart. She could never leave, and she could never stay.
“Percy, I don’t know how long I have here,” she said. Some part of her understood that she didn’t need to explain. This was her dream and she was willing him to know what she meant without having to waste their precious time on unbelievable explanations. “There are so many things I want to say to you, but I don’t know where to begin.”
“When left to my own devices, perhaps,” Percy smiled, ruefully. He took Vex’s hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Save marrying you, of course. The gods only know how I lucked into that.” Or anything good, really. He didn’t know when, if ever, he’d be able to forgive himself for what he had created, for choosing vengeance, for selling his soul, for leaving Cassandra behind. Those were scars he’d never be able to hide. But seeing Vex’ahlia now, hearing the sounds of their children off in the distance, those were a balm more magical than anything he’d ever seen. Perhaps eternal forgiveness was not meant for him, but if this life was what he had, it was so much more than he ever deserved.
He frowned, the lines and wrinkles of age becoming more pronounced, and pulled Vex into his lap–something that would surely cause a cacophony of groans from their children but so be it. “At the beginning is usually how I find these things easiest,” he suggested. “Or, in lieu of that, wherever you’d like. I’ll catch on quickly enough.” And after all they’d been through, aided a bit by the dream magic in the here and now, there was very little that would surprise him. “You can tell me anything, Vex’ahlia, whatever it is.”
Vex believed him. He was a smart man and it was charming despite the fact that he was very aware of just how smart he was. He was also loyal, though. To her. She knew that if she started in the middle, he’d meet her there with no questions asked. He would understand, or he’d at least set to work immediately on figuring it out. But for as much as Vex felt torn between all of the varying places she could start, she decided that perhaps the easiest thing to do would be to start at the beginning, after all.
Looping her arms around his neck, Vex lowered her forehead to his and let it rest there as her fingers played idly at his hairline. Age had not made him less attractive to her, though she’d known it never would have. He still felt so very much like hers that there was no difference, really, between the man in front of her and the man she’d last seen in her memories.
After a moment of letting herself take comfort in the silence, she finally began. She told him about Vallo. She told him about how they’d been together for a time before Vallo had taken him away and how it had taken her a year to even entertain the idea of moving on. She told him about the dangers she and her brother had faced in their new home, and the other Exandrians they’d befriended, and how Slayer’s Cake had just shown up for her one day. Though the words had felt impossible to draw out, she told him about Eadwulf and the the twins and how it had made the way she missed Percy raw again but also had given her something like hope until he had been taken by Vallo’s magic, too.
And then she used the momentum of her story, words now crashing out of her like white water rapids, to tell him about remembering the defeat of the Chroma Conclave. About the memory she had of the year they’d spent in Whitestone and the subsequent fight with Vecna and Delilah. About the last memory she had from home of raven feathers and snowdrops.
By the end of her story that might have taken days or hours or no time at all, Vex’s cheeks were wet with the weight of it. “So you see, darling,” she continued, placing a hand over his heart, “I’ve found myself at a crossroads. I’ve spent weeks just making it from one day to the next, refusing to decide which way to go, and weeks wishing you were with me so that there was no decision to be made at all. I want to be here in this moment, in this life, with you, but–” She stopped, taking in a shuddering breath and steadying herself before she went on. “--But being with you means leaving him. And choosing him means moving forward without you. I can’t do it, Percy. I can’t can’t make either choice, even if I have no say in the choice, at all. I don’t accept this. But I can’t just keep existing, either.”
As Vex dove deeper and deeper into the sea of events, Percy, true to his word, listened. He was very clearly trying to piece things together, but that was very much his nature, to analyze something, take in the information, piece it together, pull it apart, figure out all of the inner workings and fix it. Especially for his family, who he would never feel like–could never feel like–he deserved. He took the corner of his sleeve to wipe at Vex’s eyes. Their family portrait would have never been perfect anyway, what with the personalities of their children, forget the addition of not one but two bears.
“For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve made the most of every situation. You’ve turned yourself into the Baroness of the First House of Whitestone, Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt, Champion of Pelor, Coinmistress of the Tal’Dorei Council, that was because of your own merit, your own talents,” he said, knocking foreheads gently. “You turned a soulless, broken man into someone who can look at himself in the mirror. If you’re asking me what you should do, Vex, it’s live. Live and make the most of every situation, just as you’ve always done. You can have everything, darling, be with your brother, live out another adventure. We’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Percy paused, his mouth twisting in an attempt to bring some levity to the situation. “Goodness, do you see why I’ve ceased using titles? They’re endlessly tiresome.”
Vex didn’t point out that she’d never have had the title had Percy not been the kind of man willing to give her anything she thought she needed even when he didn’t think she needed what he was giving. It was nice to hear his faith in her, a faith that had been so unwavering in the time they’d been together. When she didn’t know how to believe in herself, he always did, even when he wasn’t with her. She closed her eyes, her nose brushing gently against his as she let his voice wash over her, comfort her. She wished she could convince him that he wasn’t the only broken thing that had needed to feel worthy, that he’d been as much a catalyst for her own growth as she had been for him.
“I need you to know,” she finally said, “that I am with you always. I know I’m here, that you have a Vex that’s never known Vallo, but I just need you to know that no matter how long I’m there, I carry you with me, darling.” She tipped her chin forward, pressing her lips to his in a bittersweet kiss filled with two years of yearning and a handful of promises and goodbyes. She wanted to believe that she could do what he asked and live the way she’d always been able to. Percival was her home, but she knew what it was to live after losing her home. Her head knew how to keep moving forward, that it was necessary if she didn’t want to leave her brother. Her heart just had some catching up to do.
She laughed at his closing words, though, as she moved to press her cheek to his. “Perhaps we should have the children recite the titles of Whitestone so that they’ll be tired enough to sit still for the portrait?”
“I was more thinking we should threaten they’ll have to recite the titles if they refuse to sit still,” Percy responded, deadpanned and with a dry, blink and you’ll miss it humor. He smiled against her lips, hands cupping Vex’s face like she was something precious. And she was, there was no question about it. “Not a day goes by that I am not endlessly thankful for our lives. I wouldn’t change much, but I know how you miss Vax. That you have more time with him, I could never give that to you, and I’d never take it away.”
Not far off were the sounds of a child running (Leona, always Leona, their middle daughter was running before she could crawl, with Vesper the ever suffering oldest child trying to regain some sense of propriety, bless her) and another one doing what sounded like sliding down all of their many, many banisters. The fact that every day there was laughter, joy, and love back in Whitestone never failed to have Percy closing his eyes and thanking the gods that had turned their backs to him.
“Say hello to Cassandra for me–although I suppose that I can do it--no, I won’t think too much about timing and locations, our portrait will have me even more wrinkled than I am. However, when you see Vax next, do tell him we named our son after him. And then tell him his middle name, because it will horrify him,” Percy chuckled at the thought. He missed Vax too, every day, just as he missed his own brothers and sisters. All gone too soon. He kissed Vex’s forehead, the bridge of her nose, the tip of her chin. “You’ll always have us with you, Vex, but your heart is large enough to carry all of that and more. We’ll be a part of you, but not all of you.”
Vex loved Percy’s sense of humor. It felt like a secret that someone had to be let in on and she was privileged enough to always be privy to it. For someone who thought he was a selfish man, Percy was always giving to her. He gave her his secrets, his humor, the wrinkles etched at the corners of his eyes from years of laughter, his love–now he was giving her this. Permission. A tear slipped down her cheek but she didn’t move to brush it away because there was still too little time that she had to just touch him. She smiled, though, and said, “You have always been too good to me, Percival. Giving me everything I have ever needed even when I didn’t have the words to know how to ask for it myself. And this–this is so much to ask, yet here you are ever ready to give me anything in the world my heart could desire.”
Gods, she loved him. She couldn’t imagine that would ever truly change. She brushed her nose against his again and took a moment to memorize him again. The indents at the bridge of his nose from his spectacles and the exact strength of his arms when wrapped around her. She memorized the sound of him, the smell of him, the miracle of him.
“I’ll tell her,” she said, “but you ought to prepare yourself for the likelihood of her being cross with you should you not attempt to tell her yourself.” The selfish part of her was glad for not having to share this moment with anyone else, even if she also wished for Cassandra to be able to see him, too. Maybe she still would in her own dreams, in her own way. “That’ll be the first thing I do. The second will be terrorizing my brother with his legacy. Don’t worry, he’s still an ass, he deserves it,” she added with the obvious affection that came with talking about her twin. No matter what happened between them, she never loved anyone more than she loved him.
Vex pulled herself closer to Percy, holding him tight as she felt the beginnings of wakefulness pricking somewhere in the back of her mind. She needed more time with him, with the family they’d built together. More time here in this world she’d given everything to save so that she and the ones she loved could finally have a home and peace. But she couldn’t have everything she wanted. She couldn’t have one foot in this world and one foot in the other if she was ever going to have a full life in either. She wanted more time to tell him that their family was her whole heart, but she didn’t say it because she knew that Percy was right.
Instead, she took a moment to let the sounds of the kids playing outside this room and causing who knew what sorts of mischief–Vax would be happy to know that particular legacy had continued–fill her heart. She stole one more kiss from her husband and said, “I will carry your heart with me always, Percival de Rolo. And if you find yourself feeling nostalgic for the life of adventure, you will always be welcome to come find me for another one.”