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Keyleth never ceased to be awed by the beauty of the Sun Tree. Today, its vibrant colors shone in the afternoon light over the roofs of Whitestone, echoing the slanted sunlight glowing on the mountains in the background as well as the leaves of the mantle that hung from her own shoulders. Back in Zephrah, it was still late summer, but this far north autumn had started already. The leaves weren’t falling yet, but there was a bit of chill in the wind that warned of the winter to come.
From her bench on one of the balconies of the de Rolo house, Keyleth took a deep breath of the cool air and soaked in the still-warm sun. Below, she could make out the shouts and squabbles of the younger de Rolo kids even from this distance as Vex rounded them up to come inside and wash up. She loved visiting and seeing Percy and Vex’s extending family grow, but she still wasn’t accustomed to the level of noise that came with it.
“Thought I’d find you here.”
Keyleth looked back to the door where Percy had paused politely.
“Yeah. Sorry to duck away, I just…needed a moment of quiet.”
“Completely understandable. I steal what peace I can get away with as well.” He nodded his head toward the balcony at large. “Are you seeking complete solitude, or…?”
“No, please.” She scooted over, patting the spot on the bench beside her. “It’s good to see you.”
“And you, dear.”
He made his way over and Keyleth’s stomach twisted slightly, sickly. He was using a cane now. He hadn’t needed one last time she saw him…
He took the seat beside her with a soft involuntary grunt and sighed as he relaxed slightly, embracing the privacy of the space. “Thank you for sparing some time to stay for a bit. I know you have to get back to your people soon, but it’s nice to have another adult around for a while.”
“Of course! I wish I could come visit more often.” It was strange, these days, just seeing her friends occasionally instead of being part of each other’s lives every day. It made the changes of time stand out more, since she wasn’t watching them happen gradually. And the big changes more jarring.
“I can’t believe how much the kids have grown,” she commented, focusing on one of the easier changes to talk about. “It doesn’t seem like that long since I was here, but every time they look different.”
“Remarkable, isn’t it? At least I’m grateful to have all of them out of diapers and the sleepless nights phase, even if it means the majority are teenagers now.”
Keyleth almost laughed. “That shouldn’t be possible.”
“No, it’s hardly fair, is it? But the twins have grown out of the worst of it, just in time for Vaxxy to start his full dramatic angst.”
The name still was a jab in the heart, even after all these years. “I guess that’s not unexpected, though.”
“No,” Percy agreed, rolling the cane between his hands. “Finally living up to his namesake at last.”
It was a brush across a scar not fully healed, but at least they were able to make the joke. Even if they couldn’t avoid the slightly awkward silence that followed.
“Gwen’s turning out to be your shadow, isn’t she?” Keyleth said, trying to keep the conversation moving. She winced, worrying that choice of wording might sound like it was referencing Percy’s darker past. She knew he already doted on the girl all the more because she was a physical embodiment of how his decisions had affected at least one of his children.
But Percy just smiled fondly despite his overall schooled expression. “Yes. It’s nice having at least one of them on my side, most of the time.”
Keyleth snorted. “Come on, you know Vesper’s practically a third parent around here. Where is she, anyway? Does she still live with you?”
“For now, so far.” Percy nodded. “Though Vex suspects she’s been developing a fondness for one of the young Pale Guards. Frankly, I figure she’ll tell us if it becomes important, but Vex may try to press her for information over dinner, so just best to stay out of it” he warned. “Currently, she’s in town with Cassandra, assisting with some matter of state or other.”
“Is she planning to take over Cassandra’s seat in the Council?”
“Possibly. Though all the children are being taught what goes into running Whitestone and being leaders. There’s no guarantee which of them will need to know it one day.”
Keyleth heard the shift in his voice. Glancing over, she saw his hands were clenched slightly tighter on his cane. She didn’t need to wonder where his thoughts were, considering the current de Rolos leading Whitestone were the third-born and youngest.
She wanted to reassure him that his children would never have to face that same situation, that they would get to choose which ones wanted to step into that role and the others pick whichever paths they desired. But they both knew no one could promise such a future in this world. Just fight to protect it and do their bests to prepare for whatever came.
Instead, she said, “You and Vex have done amazingly with them.”
“They’re hellions,” Percy commented, but with easy affection, hands loosening their grip again. “But I think that means we’ve done equally well on that front. They’re no worse than we were at that age.” He cocked an eyebrow, looking at her. “Do you realize Vesper’s older now than we were when we met?”
Keyleth groaned. “Don’t remind me!”
“I know. It’s awful, isn’t it?” He sobered again, looking down at the cane he was fidgeting with. “I hate to mention it, but on that note, there is something I wanted to ask of you.”
Dread formed in Keyleth’s stomach. She eyed the cane again, but tried to keep her expression neutral. “What do you need?”
Percy sighed. “Trinket’s getting older.”
Keyleth blinked, taken off guard. “Oh.” That wasn’t where she had expected this conversation to go but— “Oh…” A different branch of worry bloomed in her chest.
“He’s not that far gone yet, thankfully,” Percy assured, waving a hand soothingly. “But he’s definitely slowing down, showing his age. I don’t know what a bear’s natural lifespan is, but I suspect we’re stretching it past that a bit at this point. If you could just…take a look at him while you’re here? Reassure Vex a bit, or…be honest with her if necessary?”
“Right. Of course,” Keyleth stammered a bit, pulling her thoughts back on track. “I’m sure I can recommend some things to keep him feeling healthy, extend things as far as possible.”
“Good. Thank you.” Percy’s brow furrowed. There were more lines there these days than she remembered. “I fear how she’s going to handle it when there’s no longer anything we can do. She’s already having him spend more time in the necklace these days than out. Time apparently doesn’t pass in there, which is why I think she’s managed to hold onto him this long. But loss is not something Vex accepts easily, despite our long experience.”
Or perhaps because of it, went unsaid, obvious as it was. “Do any of us?” Keyleth laughed bitterly.
“We’ve certainly seen how poorly I handle it as well,” he allowed. “But that’s why I wanted to ask you, particularly. Out of all of us, you handle death the most graciously.”
Keyleth snorted. “You think?”
She cast a look around and, sure enough, a large raven was watching quietly from a tree nearby. She frowned, old anger and pain flickering in her chest.
“Well, at least the most realistically, I suppose,” Percy amended. “You’re aware of its inevitability and don’t indulge in denial as much as most do. I can speak with you plainly about what’s going to come eventually without getting platitudes and optimistic reassurances, and I know you will be able to help Vex through it when it does come.”
Keyleth looked back at him and for a moment suspected he wasn’t just talking about Trinket. That maybe this was a roundabout way to allude to his own advancing age as well.
“Of course,” she responded, seriously and with utmost sincerity. Hoping that he would catch that she was also referring to more than just what was being said out loud. “I promise, I will be there for Vex whatever she needs to help her through her loss when the time comes.”
“Thank you.” Percy sighed, relief easing some of the tension in his shoulders. “Because if this is how she’s taking it with Trinket, I dread to think how she’ll be when it’s my turn.”
Keyleth’s eyebrows flew up. Oh, so they were going to talk about this directly.
Percy misinterpreted her reaction. “Which is not yet!” he said quickly. “My health is fine, despite my best efforts and entirely due to Vex’s.”
“Good,” Keyleth choked slightly. “Glad to hear it.”
“I’m better than I deserve to be. But I’m also not blind enough to pretend I’m still in my twenties. And neither is Vex. I’ve seen the looks she gets every now and then since I reached middle age. A human lifespan can’t compare to a half-elf’s, even with all the healthy meals and regular cleric visits she holds me to. Neither of us are naive of that, but knowing doesn’t prevent the fear or pain. And I don’t want Vex to lose herself in grief or be unable to let go.”
“Of course,” Keyleth agreed, slightly numbly. “I’ll be there for her.”
“Thank you.” Percy rubbed his forehead. “I hate to ask it of you, put another responsibility on your already full plate, but I know you’ll have the clearest mind when it happens.”
Keyleth didn’t agree, her heart already aching at the thought of a time she could no longer sit like this and talk with Percy. But she didn’t argue with him. She just hoped there would be a lot of wine with dinner.
“I’m going to talk with Pike about it too,” he continued. “She’s always a comfort regardless. But I felt I could discuss it most easily with you.”
Keyleth took the compliment in that trust. “Yeah. Unfortunately, we all have far more experience with death than we should.”
The raven, which at some point had moved out of the tree and come to perch on the roof above them, seemed to decide the mood had gotten too morose. It croaked, turned, and pooped just close enough that some of it landed on Percy’s shoulder.
He wrinkled his nose. “Of course, we both know death also has a sense of humor.” He casually flipped the bird off.
“A shitty one at that,” Keyleth agreed pointedly, giving the raven a glare.
It just croaked again and flew away. But it had effectively broken the mood, so maybe it was satisfied.
Percy wiped the majority of the droppings off with a handkerchief and Keyleth reached over, Druidcrafting some flowers over the remainder of the stain. “There. Until you can clean it properly.”
“Thank you, dear.”
Adjusting the position of the leaves and blossoms to complement Percy’s coat, Keyleth paused a moment, an old memory flickering in her mind like a reopened wound. She saw again that horrible night in the Mansion on Glintshore, cleaning Percy’s body and Druidcrafting flowers to make it look less shredded and lifeless. How fortunate they were to be able to bring him back then, and each of the other times one of them had fallen in the battles that followed. Every year since then, every child, every wrinkle and gray hair and ache and pain, was a gift stolen from fate. Ultimately, what a privilege it was to get to see them each grow old when by all rights they shouldn’t have survived this long.
When not all of them had.
Percy must have seen the wetness in her eyes, the distant expression as she stilled. His hand moved to rest over hers. “I’m sorry for putting this on you. I know you have enough to carry already.”
“No.” She straightened, determination overcoming the bitterness. “I’m honored you trust me to be there for your family. You don’t need to worry about Vex or the kids. I’ll be there.”
She could almost see the weight lift off him and it still awed her to this day how this man who sneered at most ideas of faith still put so much of it in her. “Thank you.”
“I do have to ask one thing, though,” she said seriously.
“Of course. Name it.”
She pointed. “What’s the deal with the cane?”
He gave a surprised laugh, and now his eyes glinted and the corner of his mouth quirked up in an old, familiar way. “This? One of my recent experiments. It is nice for leaning on, but it has a number of practical uses. My father used to carry one and, other than being fashionable, it’s quite useful for blocking the way of an over-eager child, or a party guest who’s overstepped. But I, of course, plan to add a few features of my own design. Notably…”
He glanced around conspiratorially, then held the head of the cane toward her and beneath the handle she saw the recognizable shape of a trigger.
“It’s a gun,” she said, not even able to be surprised. “Of course your cane is a gun.”
He put a finger to his lips, grinning widely. For a moment, despite the longer hair, beard, and crows-feet, she saw the same twenty-some-year-old she’d known for so long, excitedly showing off his newest toy.
“It’s limited yet, but always good to keep a few surprises up your sleeve. And it’s never a bad thing to cultivate a bit of an image so people underestimate you.” He took the cane back, pointing to slits hidden in the wood of the stick. “I’m working on adding some blades as well, but I need to get them to deploy consistently when intended, rather than nearly accidentally slicing my own fingers off while just holding it. I should be able to build in a safeguard if I can rearrange a few things to make room…”
Keyleth couldn’t help the smile that spread from the warmth in her chest outward and she put her arm around Percy, pulling him in for a hug and carefully angling her antlers to safely rest her head on his shoulder.
“Thank you for not changing too much, Percy.”
He snorted slightly. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment, but you’re welcome.”
He started to shift as if to get up, but she added her other arm, holding on tighter. “Nope. You made me talk about death, so you can tolerate a hug for a bit.”
He chuckled genuinely, adjusting to hug her back properly. “More than fair.”
The de Rolos weren’t a warm, physically affectionate people overall, but Vox Machina was and Percy had been in both families long enough to learn to adapt.
There was a crash downstairs and the raised sound of kids’ voices arguing.
Percy sighed, straightening up. “I’d best go deal with that. Put out any fires, real or metaphorical.”
“Yeah, guess so.”
Percy grunted as he stood, using the cane to help push himself up, and started shifting back into father mode. For a brief moment, Keyleth wondered whether he was older now than his own father had ever gotten to be.
But before she could spiral down that train of thought again, he held out his free arm courteously for her. “Tempest?”
She stood, her mantle flowing behind her again, leaves flickering in the autumn sun, as she accepted his arm. “Lord de Rolo.”
As they made their way back inside, Percy suddenly said, “I’m sorry! I forgot to ask. How is your mother doing?”
“Oh! Good. She’s adjusting, as we all are. It’s nice getting to work together. And Dad’s finally letting himself settle down and they’re actually taking some time for themselves these days.”
“What a lovely thought. I wonder what that’s like?”
“I know, right? Maybe one day we’ll be old enough to retire too.”
“One can hope.”
And as they descended back into the chaos and energy of life, Keyleth thanked whatever forces were out there for the ones death hadn’t taken yet, and the few it had allowed them to have back.