Chapter Text
It’s a joke at first, a way to pass off their scheming and stick it to some snooty elves. They have a good laugh and forget all about it.
Until two nights later, as they camp out on the edge of some unforgiving terrain, wind howling around them, ground itself turning against them.
“Why don’t you try flirting with the dirt, De Rolo?” jibes Vax’ildan, quickly met with a sharp elbow to the side from his sister. The truth is they’re all tired and more than a little terrified, and it’s easier to focus on the familiarity of petty squabbles than the overwhelming unknown.
Vex shakes her head, pulling Vax over to a rocky outcropping, the only seemingly stable piece of land for miles. Trinket bounds ahead, eager to set his paws on solid ground. He curls up on the rough stone, head still perked up, waiting. One by one the weary party join him.
Vex settles in the scruff of fur near Trinket’s neck, burying her face in his warmth. Vax settles with his back to Trinket’s, not quite ready to lie down. He watches the others approach.
Keyleth is next, her bright enthusiasm finally beginning to wear off as she feels the unwelcoming aura of the land settle into her bones. Her gait slows as she approaches the group, seeking something, perhaps an invitation. Vax reaches out his hand to her, tugging her gently to settle in his place next to Trinket, moving instead to wrap himself around her, her back pressed to his front, arms vice-like yet gentle all the same.
Percy, proper fool that he is, takes a seat some few feet from the group, pulling his glasses off his nose and beginning to clean them. Vex catches this with her one open eye and frowns. With a huff, she stands and walks over to Percy, looping her arm through his and giving him a firm tug back towards the group. For a moment it seems he will resist, but he must see something, a need on her face, in her eyes, and instead he acquiesces. He follows her back, waiting for her to settle back down next to Trinket before he lays his head in her lap, his hand finding hers, their fingers entwined.
Grog and Scanlan bring up the rear. Grog furrows his brow at his friends already so closely pieced together. He watches them for a moment as if trying to solve a puzzle, before eventually choosing a spot next to Vax. His arms wrap around Vax much in the same way the half-elf is holding Keyleth, and there is a moment of tension as all those involved decide how to react.
“Thanks buddy,” Vax murmurs eventually, “I was sorta freezing my balls off.”
Grog half-grunts, half-chuckles a reply. “Yeah well you don’t got much of those to begin with so I figured I better save the ones you got.”
Keyleth giggles and Vax pulls her closer. Scanlan stands back with a knowing look.
“You’ve just got to plant the idea…” he mutters smugly to himself, climbing over Percy’s feet and one of Grog’s gigantic arms as he makes his way to nestle on Trinket’s large rump.
He lets a hand trail off one side of the bear, falling near Vex’s resting place. She shifts slightly so that his fingers just brush the top of her head.
It’s an odd sort of peace, a more intimate peace, yet something about it settles just right. It’s not until they return to Whitestone that they spend the night apart again.