Chapter Text
Percy has wandered his ancestral home many times; often aimlessly, often when sitting down will make him feel worse. He walks the castle now.
It’s past dusk and Vox Machina has retired to their own parts of the castle to recover and collect themselves after the day’s events. Percy doesn’t know where most of them are, but he knows they have the earrings if anyone needs company. He’s actually working his way over to the smaller library on the first floor where he knows Keyleth is.
Last he’d seen her; she’d been trying to light a fire. In her grieving state she had forgotten about her fire hands and was fumbling with a match. Percy had gently assisted her before excusing himself and ducking out of the room. Now, cold and sore, he heads back.
“Percy.”
Vex’s greeting turns his head and he sees he fall into step with him, her eyes not quite finding his own. The Raven’s Slumber rolls from left to right over Vex’s armour with the momentum of her walking, Trinket probably watching from inside.
“If you like, I’m going to the library-”
“I’m looking for Pike.” Vex cuts him off. “Someone needs to tell her.”
Percy nods in understanding and allows her to speed up until she rounds a corner and is gone. All she leaves behind is a sinking feeling in Percy’s chest.
At the door to the library Percy can hear the soft crackle of a steady fire. As he enters the room he has to blink and wake himself up a little, his pulse flaring as his eyes deceive him. Curled up in his mother’s favourite spot on the chaise lounge is Keyleth, knitted blanket covering her lower half and a worn book in hand. Her mother’s headpiece rests on the carpet below her. She looks up.
“Hey Percy.” Tearstains coat her cheeks and her voice wobbles, but Keyleth offers him a small smile.
“Are you-” he stops himself. Stupid question. “For a moment there, you looked like my mother.”
Keyleth’s smile flickers a little. “Yeah?”
“She was a beautiful woman, just like you. I don’t think I ever saw her cry, though.”
The smile disappears completely. Keyleth seems to retreat into the throw cushions behind her, her small form blending in with the oranges of the fabric. One hand reaches up and rubs uselessly at her face.
“It’s all right if-” Percy begins.
“No! It’s not all right!” Keyleth says. “It’s not all right, Percy. And I don’t want to talk about it like it is. I don’t want to talk about it at all.”
Percy can’t help but feel a little thrown by that. He stares blankly, barely remembering to close his mouth as he processes. Keyleth, the young woman who wears her heart on her sleeve, touching it to everyone she meets, doesn’t want to confront her pain for once. She’s shaking, he notices. Shaking even by the fire, even under the blanket one of his siblings made a lifetime ago. One hand runs through her hair and Percy glances down at her mother’s headpiece on the floor. He wonders if Keyleth grieved like this when she realized her mother wasn’t coming back.
“Can I stay?” he asks instead.
He doesn’t get a verbal response. Keyleth simply tucks her feet up under her and moves the blanket to make space for Percy. He takes off his coat and drapes it over the nearest surface before joining her. As soon as he’s sat, Keyleth throws a side of the blanket over his knees. He bumps her shoulder lightly.
“Do you want to talk at all?”
This time Keyleth answers him. “I wouldn’t mind being distracted right now.”
She laughs weakly, as if to nullify the impact of her words.
Percy stares into the flames and takes a moment to relive a memory of Tiberius breathing fire. Later he’ll grieve in his own way, going back over months of memories and recalling past jokes with the dragonborn. For now, he puts it aside.
“I think Vax and I are friends now.”
It’s the first thing that comes to mind. Percy doesn’t exactly blurt it out, but he says it without thinking and colour floods his cheeks, painting him as the idiot he is. To his relief, Keyleth seems genuinely glad for the topic change, her focus zeroed in on Percy and the book in her hands forgotten.
“Did you guys talk? When?” She asks.
“Yesterday. In the crypt.” Keyleth pulls a face at that so he elaborates. “You remember how I was having it converted into a temple for the Raven Queen? Well I showed him and he appeared to find it agreeable.”
The fire crackles a little louder and Percy lets it fill the silence whilst he thinks. Keyleth, bless her, doesn’t interrupt.
After a moment he says, “He hasn’t forgiven me – and he doesn’t trust me – but I didn’t anticipate either of those things to happen. I’m okay with that. Frankly I’m amazed he was as nice as he was.”
Keyleth takes his hand above the blanket. She holds it for just a moment before letting go and tugging the blanket up a little.
“It’s been weeks, Percy. Vex forgave you in a heartbeat. If she can, so can Vax. And if he can forgive you, you can rebuild.”
“Can I?” It comes out sounding pathetic.
Creamy skin wrinkles together in a frown on Keyleth’s forehead. She casts around for something to say, before her eyes lock on something in the distance and something in her head clicks. Once again, she meets his eye.
“You’re Percival de Rolo. You built a dragon trap in a ruined city with nothing but scrap metal and a few hours to spare. I’ve not yet seen you backed down from a challenge because it’s too great.”
Warmth floods into Percy, doubled by the confident look on Keyleth’s face. She believes in what she’s saying. She believes in him.
“This feels different,” he confesses, “because it’s Vax.”
“And you love him.” Keyleth adds.
“And I love him.” Percy finishes.
An understanding passes over them both, the type of understanding that only those who are extraordinarily close can ever share. Something about this instils the tiniest amount of bravery in Percy. Not the everyday bravery that inspires action, but the kind that inspires belief. They look at each other and they know that they have each other’s back, no matter what tomorrow will bring.
Keyleth’s eyes aren’t as red as they were when Percy entered the library. She’s stopped shaking and even her unsteady voice is back to its usual timbre. That, at least, Percy has fixed.
A thought occurs to him.
“What was it you said to Vex? Don’t let anyone else define you?”
“Something like that.”
“Maybe it’s time I forgave myself. Maybe I owe that… to me.” As Percy finishes voicing the thought he expects to feel a pang of guilt, or a spark of self-loathing. Instead his chest relaxes. He takes a shaky breath.
Deep down he knows he isn’t fixed, knows there are still sleepless nights ahead, but this is the first time he’s allowed himself to consider forgiveness at his own hands. And if he isn’t worth that forgiveness, if it ever feels too easy, he’ll do what he can to live up to the person he wishes he was. He’ll learn to love himself again, just as he once did as a child. He can be the man he told Vax about – the man he’d be happy to die as. This isn’t over yet. His time isn’t up yet.
For now though, he pulls Keyleth into a hug and tries to convey in that action just how grateful he is for her. This family that crashed into his life and spirited him away changed many things, including how he sees himself. The love he feels for each of them is almost painful.
A cry rises up in the distance. It’s faint and wailing, but all too familiar. Somewhere in the castle, Vex has found Pike. Somewhere, a heart breaks.
Keyleth holds Percy tighter and they live, they live, they live.