Chapter Text
Everyone has bad days.
On Keyleth’s bad days, she ends up right in the middle of the cuddle pile. Vex covers her in light little kisses to make her smile. Percy sits by her side and reads to her, any book he can find closeby. Grog tells her terrible jokes. Vax pulls her into his lap and holds her close, running his fingers through her hair, whispering in her ear words that no one else ever hears, but by the end there’s always a tiny smile edging its way across her lips.
On Grog’s bad days, Scanlan sings about lady-favours. It’s crass, and the rest of them grimace or scowl in varying degrees, but it makes Grog laugh, so they deem it worth it. Sometimes Keyleth turns into Minxie just to watch Grog’s face light up. Pike sits on his shoulder the whole day, squeezing one of his huge fingers with her tiny hand whenever he reaches up towards her.
On Pike’s bad days she likes to curl up in Grog’s lap. Sometimes Percy reads to her, sometimes he hums something in celestial- ancient and holy, it reminds her there is good mixed in with all the evil in the world. Vex or Vax offer to braid her hair, pressing gentle kisses to the top of her head or her cheeks as they go. Scanlan gives her space. He still joins the group, but he’s quieter than usual. He plays soft notes in the background without singing along, but his eyes never leave her. He waits until he sees the ghost of a smile, when he knows she’s healed enough to laugh, and then he plays her favourite tavern songs, bawdy as ever. No love songs though. He knows it’s not the time.
On Vex’s bad days, Percy tinkers. No matter what, he has something to bring her, a new gadget or pretty bauble, always with a deeper sentiment buried in the gifting. Vax and Scanlan suspect he’s built up a small reserve of novelties just for days like these. Vax pulls her down to sit in front of him, braiding and unbraiding her hair until her breathing evens out and she leans in for a hug. Scanlan hangs around just incase she needs someone to verbally spar with. Vex likes nothing more than a challenge, and Scanlan is always ready. Keyleth gives her surprise hugs throughout the day, and is always the first to pull her close when they go to bed that night.
On Scanlan’s bad days everyone rolls their eyes. Not because they don’t think Scanlan’s feelings are important, but he does choose a terrible way to express them. The crooning lasts from dawn til dusk, or at least until their patience wears thin. Keyleth can’t hold a tune to save her life, but bless her soul, she tries to join in anyway. Pike and Vex both press kisses to Scanlan’s cheeks whenever they enter or leave the room he’s in. Surprisingly, Percy is the best with Scanlan. He sits calmly sketching while the bard churns out melodramatic melodic phrases, chiming in occasionally with a suggestion for a rhyme.
On Vax’s bad days he wants to be alone, and they let him, for the most part. But if Keyleth happens to be in her garden as he goes past, and his hand finds hers for a gentle squeeze, well, it helps. And if Pike happens to leave the sanctuary door open as she sits bathed in afternoon sun, and if she shuffles over a little as she’s praying to make room, well that helps too. If Percy passes him silently in the hallway and their shoulders brush, if it leads to a fierce, achingly short kiss up against the wall, well maybe it doesn’t fix it, but it’s something. Enough, anyway, that by nightfall he can come back. There’s less talking than usual when they all go to bed, but he’s there, and it’s something.
On Percy’s bad days he wants to be alone, but no one takes a bar of his shit. Keyleth and Pike ambush him with flower crowns, Scanlan tries to bait him with outlandish ideas for new tinkering projects, Grog pours him more ale than one man alone could ever drink. Vex waits around the corner in quiet hallways for those moments Percy escapes the throng. He falls into her arms, nuzzles against her neck, breathes in the earthy forest scent that clings to her- the antithesis of everything he is. She twists her fingers in his hair, rakes them along his scalp and down his back. She lets him stop, lets him breathe, and then leads him back to the others. The cuddle pile that night is always tight, holding Percy close, reminding him he is here, he is safe, he is loved.