Chapter Text
Lady Vex'ahlia de Rolo, Baroness of the Third House of Whitestone and Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt, was not in the business of feeling sorry for herself.
She was far too pragmatic for that; too responsible.
And honestly, it felt a little silly—all things considered. She’d seen much of the world, seen those with nothing and less than even that, seen lives and livelihoods stripped away, seen fields torched with dragon fire, city slums, and plenty of gruesome ends.
Sitting inside her very own castle, in the warm dining room at their oak table amongst her children and a delicious home-cooked meal prepared by the finest chefs in Tal’dorei, Vex knew she ranked among some of the most privileged people on the continent—and probably all the continents beyond.
It was almost disgusting how lucky she was. How much she’d been blessed with.
To complain would be even worse.
So, Vex sat and ate her food—every bite—doing her best not to glare at the empty seat beside her. Because of course it was empty. It had been all week.
“Darlings, how was tutoring?” she asked between each bite, nodding her head towards the twins who were locked in a silent stare-down over their own plates.
Leona offered her mother a sugary smile which meant she was about to lie through her teeth. “It was great.”
Wolfe rolled his eyes and offered a slightly different take. “It sucked.”
Typical.
“Good grief, is that any way to speak at the dinner table?” Vex tried not to remember the stuffy formal Syngorn dinner tables of her youth, and how she swore never to recreate that in her own home.
She chalked up tonight’s parenting to somewhere near abysmal. The children stared at their own plates, engaged in small conversation with each other. Vex took another bite of the (truly, delicious) meat pie that had been prepared for their meal that evening and noticed that Little Gwen was struggling to cut hers.
“We’re just bored, Mum.” Leona did her best to smooth over her brother’s previous outburst. “Lessons don’t quite compare to hunting with you or doing something more… exciting.”
“Lines. Yawn,” Wolfe agreed.
“I see.” Vex leaned over to help with the current meat-cutting disaster to her right. “Here, Gwennie, try this.”
It helped. Gwen ate a few more bites, her bright eyes dancing just to the left near that empty chair Vex was so studiously ignoring. “Where’s Daddy?”
Ah.
It was the question of the evening, wasn’t it?
“In his study, I suppose,” Vex answered lightly. “He’s a busy man, darling.”
“Every night?” Wolfe groaned. “If he gets to eat in his study, I want to eat in mine.”
“Wolfe.” Vesper blinked at him, then kicked him under the table. Not at all subtly. Despite being all grown up, Vesper still managed to attend family dinners on most occasions when she wasn’t working late with Cassandra on Chamber of Whitestone business.
Even Vesper made it tonight, Vex thought, quite unhelpfully. She forced the thoughts away, gritting out a smile.
“You don’t have a study,” Leona was telling her brother.
Wolfe returned the kick to Vesper. Not gently.
Vex cleared her throat, tapping her wine glass gently. “Children, please.”
The arguing didn’t stop. Vex sighed and motioned for the servers to cancel the desserts. She was at her wit’s end for the evening.
Oh, Vex loved each and every one of her children. She hadn’t known it was possible to care so much about someone before creating such perfect life with her own mortal body. But these days, it was like she barely knew them. Vesper had grown up before her eyes, far faster than Vex had anticipated. Gwen spent more time Percy’s study than anywhere else. And between the endless cycles of tutors and governesses, Vex sometimes couldn’t help worrying that she never really raised her children at all. They belonged to Whitestone almost as much as they belonged to her—perhaps more.
The new, long-awaited de Rolo generation.
With hot, red de Rolo blood pumping through their veins.
Red like the wine Vex was sipping, hoping it would silence the thoughts in her head for a few blessed minutes. She was almost relieved when one of her attendants rushed into the room, handing Vex a still-glowing sending stone.
“Lady de Rolo,” the woman said in a hushed tone. “Council business.”
Vex smiled, taking the stone and rising to her feet. Her dress swished as she smoothed it out. “Children, I must attend something,” she told them, doing her best to sound put-together. “Vesper, give Cass my regards. The rest of you—finish your supper and wash up for bed.”
They weren’t really listening, but each of them nodded respectfully to her as she made her exit. At the very least, her children had learned some manners.
Gwen was already wriggling out of her chair, likely to go find Percy. She was the only one allowed in his study when he was working. Whatever. Vex didn't care all that much. Gwen was allowed to have a favorite parent. Vex herself had certainly preferred her mother over her father. It was fine.
As she retired to her chambers, Vex selfishly hoped the Council needed something of importance—some earth-shattering decision on the line to help take her out of this sour space—but alas, it was just another proposed revision to their annual population counts and delegate numbers.
And while Vex simply adored being Coinmistress, her role lately seemed… perfunctory at best. Like she wasn’t quite making a real difference in the world anymore.
Not like she used to, anyway.
You swore not to complain tonight, she scolded herself, patting her hair. You may be many things, Vex’ahlia, but I won’t let you become a hypocrite.
She’d worked so hard to fit in with them. No longer the poor, determined half-elf desperate to please the authorities who would never be proud of her heritage. She had a station now—titles galore and money to back it all up. So, Vex wondered how long it would take to stop feeling as though she’d donned a very elaborate costume and fooled them all.
As the call droned on, Vex paced across the bedroom floor. When she tired of that, she stood by the window and stared out at a darkened Whitestone—the silhouette of the Sun Tree just visible against the navy sky.
Finally, she found herself at her vanity—studying herself in the mirror for a moment while she zoned out. Really, it was just small-talk now. Nothing pressing.
Vex had always considered herself above-average when it came to beauty. Okay, fine, call her vain, but she knew her worth. Looks were her weapon, as much as her bow. She knew how to get what she wanted by flashing a wink or her tits.
Every so slightly, Vex ran her finger along the corner of her eyes and forehead, squinting at the faint signs of would-be wrinkles. She wasn’t old by any means—half elves had healthy and long life expectancies—but she supposed birthing five children took its toll on even the most sought-after bodies. Her tits hung a little lower. She had the barest streaks of silver starting at her roots. Most days, she still felt beautiful, though.
Most days.
Vex continued to sit for a few moments in utter silence, hardly noticing that the sending stone had stopped glowing. She changed into her evening robes, taking down her hair and wiping off her makeup. When she’d completely transformed from Lady Vex'ahlia to just… Vex’ahlia… it was long past the usual hour she and Percy turned in for the night.
Her husband was still nowhere to be found.
Likely, he had no idea the time, and Vex knew someone had to remind the poor man before he ended up working the night away. Wouldn’t be the first time.
So, she quietly headed to the other wing of the castle, pulling her robe tighter. The halls were cold—the weather was already rapidly chilling in the evenings. A reminder that winter was on its way to Whitestone.
Percy’s study had a grand oak door and several locks—overkill, most definitely—but she’d married a paranoid man. She rapped her knuckles against the door a few times.
“Darling?”
Clanking could be heard inside and then a few choice curses.
“Percival?”
The door made a clicking sound, and as it swung to the side, a very rumpled looking Percy de Rolo peered out. His spectacles were askew and (faintly receding) white hair stuck up at odd angles. There was an odd coating of grease or perhaps black powder on his cheeks, ringing his eyes.
“Good gracious,” he said, blinking. “That late already?”
Vex smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Indeed. You should come to bed.”
Percy glanced over his shoulder at whatever he was working on behind him. It lay in several pieces on his desk. “I’m so close, dear.”
“You said that last night.” Vex didn’t mean to sound so pathetic about it. She was just sick and tired of going to sleep on her own. “Surely, it can wait until tomorrow.”
Percy sighed. Rubbed his eyes. “Alright. I’ll be right up. Just give me another half hour or so.”
Vex nodded, giving him another soft smile. “Hurry back. Maybe you’ll get lucky tonight.”
If Vex was being truthful with herself, she knew Percy wasn’t going to come to bed. He would mean to, of course, but the enticing allure of just one more twist, just one more gear, outshone even the promise of sex these days. And eventually, he would pass out on his desk, glasses half falling off his face, until he awoke sheepishly in the morning with an apology.
She waited for him anyway, though, tracing her fingers across the lovely linens on their bed that she’d spent so many hours picking out.
Just as she was deciding whether or not to lie down, another singular sending stone on her bedside table began to glow—bathing the room in a blue-green glow.
Vex usually kept her “business” sending stones with one of her several attendants; it had just become entirely too much to manage them all by herself. However, this was one she kept near her at almost all hours.
“Vex?” came a familiar voice, projected into her room by the best kind of magic. “Are you there? I’m sorry—I know it’s late. I meant to return your call earlier, but today’s just been one big hassle after another. I do need to talk to you about this weekend, so, uh, whenever you get a moment—”
Vex reached over to take the smooth stone in her hand, clearing her throat. “Kiki, darling. How lovely to hear from you.”
There was an immediate warmth that filled the room as memories of red hair and freckles swam to the surface. She could hear Keyleth breathing on the other end of the line, a calming presence as usual.
“Vex!” Keyleth squeaked. “You’re there!”
“I am, dear.” A pause. “You said you wanted to talk to me?”
“Oh, right.” Keyleth seemed a little flustered. “I just don’t know if I’ll make it out to Whitestone after all this week. There’s just so much happening here in Zephrah. The Ashari leaders are particularly concerned about this one faction in Issylra, and I can’t possibly leave at such a pivotal time.”
Vex’s heart sank, her previous flutter extinguished some. She hoped the disappointment didn’t show in her voice. “Oh, that’s quite alright, Keyleth. We’re all busy these days, aren’t we?”
“Are you angry with me?” In some ways, especially like this, it was hard to remember that Keyleth was the revered Voice of the Tempest. She looked every bit the part, but stripped of visuals, sometimes all Vex could hear was the awkward, young girl she’d once traveled alongside.
“Never, Ki.” Vex wished she could comfort the woman better. “We’ll see each other soon, alright?”
“It’s a date. Not like a date, date. Oh, you know what I meant.”
She did.
The stone slowly stopped glowing, line disconnected, and Vex was once again left alone in the dark. Placing it almost reverently back on her table, she settled beneath the covers and closed her eyes.
It seemed as though Percy wasn’t going to join her after all.
Maybe tomorrow would be different.
///
Funny enough, tomorrow was worse.
Vex had been haunted by nightmares of a woman whose greatest flaw was partially resembling her since the day she saw the bodies hanging listlessly from the Sun Tree all those years ago.
More than once she’d woken up in terror, only finding comfort in Percy’s arms, just as he often woke with visions of the necromancer herself clouding his dreams. Whitestone may have healed, but the memories hadn’t gone away. They crept up on the Lord and Lady of Whitestone when darkness closed in and stayed there until the light chased them away.
Until one of the nightmares came straight through their doors and lay on the floor of their foyer—as lifeless as the day Vex had seen her last, only this time… far, far worse.
Vex was almost certain her heart had truly stopped beating in that moment.
Laudna. The woman’s name was Laudna.
And she had a life and a love. Vex couldn’t help smirking a little, just for a moment, at the thought of the lavender-haired young woman and the way she clearly thought she was doing a bang-up job hiding her feelings. The amusement didn’t linger long, though. Laudna had apparently been wrestling with Delilah for thirty odd years.
And it was their fault. Her fault.
Pike, the darling, had worked her magic and put a band-aid on the situation, while Vex had sat there helplessly. Again.
The young (naive, she’d privately thought) adventuring party was gone now, the dust from their whirlwind come and go settled, but Vex couldn’t find that same rest. She couldn’t seem to absolve herself of the blame and guilt that had existed just below the surface all this time—now drug up and suffocating.
The early morning hours were gray and dark. She hadn’t slept a wink.
“Vex’ahlia, please,” Percy sighed. “You’ve been pacing long enough to wear holes in the floor.”
Oh, yeah. She was angry with him, too.
Nothing is to be done without my permission.
His earlier order— his demand —still rang in her ears, along with the way it had settled in her limbs just like all those Syngorn elders, just like her fucking father.
His permission. Vex scoffed at the idea. Percival de Rolo knew her better than almost anyone else in the world, which meant he knew which words were guaranteed to send her into a furious rage.
“You’re angry,” he sighed. It wasn’t a question.
She turned on him, razor-sharp sugar on the tip of her tongue. “ Whatever gave you that idea?”
“You don’t understand—”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll tell me,” she snapped. The children were in bed now. All of Whitestone was no longer watching. And finally, she could let the corked bottle of emotions crack a little.
“Delilah murdered my family.” Percy was on his feet, lips twitching. Anger was an equally natural emotion for him. “In this house, Vex’ahlia. In this bloody house.”
“I know that.” Vex wrung her hands, pointing down the hall. “You don’t think I know that? I’m reminded of the legacy of this castle every time we gather in the dining room for dinner. Every time we watch the children march off to their lessons. We wiped up the blood, Percival. That’s all. It stained down to the very core of these floors.”
“And yet, you went against my wishes today.”
“Your wishes?” Vex felt her eyebrow arch dangerously.
The glasses were in Percy’s hands now, his palms scrubbing at his eyes. She could tell she was riling him up, and she didn’t care. “Yes, my wishes. You undermined me in front of our guests .”
“I was only returning the favor, you absolute prick.”
Percy inhaled sharply, his fists clenching. “You were foolish. You were risky. You damn near put our whole life here on the line so you could, what? Play glory days with Pike?”
“You had best hop off that high horse, Percival. It’s not a very attractive angle on you.”
“Vex’ahlia, watch yourself.”
“She’s a girl, Percy,” Vex spat. “She’s a young girl with a bright future. We owed her a debt.”
“And you owe Whitestone a loyalty.”
She felt something inside her snap. A physical breaking as the words flowed without filter or pause. And Vex’ahlia de Rolo saw red as she lost her shit.
Domineering.
Selfish.
She wasn’t thinking. Just yelling. He was yelling back, of course. Words, snatches, some registering, some bouncing off and coming to rest deeper.
You need to feel needed, Vex'ahlia. Always have.
Savior complex.
Disrespect. Always looking for that hero worship.
Controlling, Percival.
Vex’s chest clawed with the lack of oxygen as their shouts suddenly died down. They stared at each other, breathing heavily. Adrenaline flooded her system, and she was cruelly reminded of fighting alongside Percy and the rest of Vox Machina, staring down enemies with the same feeling coursing through her veins.
Only now she was staring him down.
They were the monsters now.
Vex inhaled through her nose, forcing her volume back to a safer level. “If you wanted an obedient wife… you should’ve married someone else.”
She turned on her heel and strode swiftly down the hall.
Vex couldn’t afford to fall apart in the castle. There were too many prying eyes—servants, children, and otherwise.
So, she left the grounds entirely, throwing a cloak around her shoulders and marching out into Whitestone proper. The sky promised dawn in an hour or so, but for now, the city was largely asleep. Her feet knew where she was headed even before she did.
At the edge of town, beyond the farming fields, there was a lovely little stone outcropping with a mountain spring. This time of year, the leaves in the trees would be shifting to vibrant hues of gold and crimson, the ground crisp with their fallen blanket. In the early days, she and Percy would picnic in this spot—especially once she’d become pregnant with Vesper. She’d insisted the fresh air helped, and he’d taken her here as often as she’d liked.
As Vex tread back into the storied space, the ground still curled with wisps of early morning dew. She was suddenly struck with the crystal clear memory of watching Percy waltz around with a tiny Vesper on his feet—their matching white hair beacons of sunshine as she’d lounged and laughed.
She hated to call them happier times. They’d struggled in those days, too, adjusting to pregnancy and parenthood. But they were certainly simpler times. She longed for them.
Vex blinked, suddenly aware that her knees had hit the dirt. Her gasping breaths made clouds in the air, puffing out in front of her. The warmth on her cheeks told her she was likely crying.
My marriage is falling apart.
The realization had been there for a while, teetering its way into the forefront of her mind. But now, it was unavoidable, and it crashed into her like the coldest ocean wave.
Gone were the days of romance and youthfulness between her and Percy. Oh, she’d always known he had a temper. It wasn’t exactly the first time they’d fought. She’d always been aware that his ego was somewhat insufferable and how he so often picked himself over anyone else.
Percy came first. Always.
And now, he’d fully embraced his role as Lord of Whitestone.
But the mantle of his Lady had begun to tighten like a noose around her neck as of late, and she’d had no idea that was possible until this very moment. The mantle and this life were all she’d ever wanted. Begged for, prayed for, fought and stole for. She’d sworn to make something of herself, and now she had. Why hadn’t anyone warned her how empty it would make her feel?
Maybe she’d always been empty, underneath it all.
Maybe she always would be.
She fumbled around in her pocket, fingers closing around something cold and round.
Activating the sending stone, Vex managed to get a few words out:
“Keyleth, hi.”
Good start.
She tried not to sound as broken as she knew she did.
“It’s so early—gods, what time is it? I’m in the woods. I need…”
What did she need?
Vex blinked hard, doing her best to ground herself with the sounds of the trees rustling and nighttime insects putting themselves to bed as light crept closer.
She needed freedom. She needed to run until her lungs gave out and collapse into the shade of a tree—far away from city blocks and political dinners and Council calls. She wanted a place where she could be Vex instead of Lady Vex’ahlia de Rolo.
Mostly, she wanted Keyleth to answer the goddamn stone.
Apparently, the woman had enough time to drop a dead body at her door, but not to stick around.
“I need you,” she said at last. It was… risky. And if she were thinking more clearly, she never would’ve allowed it to slip out.
The sending stone remained stubbornly dark, and Vex couldn’t tell if that made things better or worse. It didn’t stop her tears, either way. They ran down her nose and her chin until they dripped onto the dirt in front of her. Vex had never thought of herself as a pretty crier.
She let herself sob until the sun rose, the darkness providing a convenient deception if necessary. As the edges of the horizon shifted from pale blue to orange, she dabbed her cheeks with the edge of her cloak and took another big breath.
“Pull yourself together,” she told herself quietly. “You’re a big girl. This is big girl shit.”
Marriages didn’t always last. Hell, Scanlan and Pike had split in the last year or so, even if they still fucked on occasion. Relationships—even happy, wonderful ones—ended. That was just the way of things after a while.
Husbands fell out of love.
Families moved away and drifted apart.
Brothers died.
(Not dead. Somewhere else. New life.)
Vex clutched the black feather in her hair, just to make sure it hadn’t fallen with her unceremonial drop to the ground. It was still there, tucked behind her ear where it belonged. A reminder that not even the most steadfast of people could stick around forever—no matter how much they’d promised.
“Oh, brother,” Vex muttered as she got to her feet. “I think you’d have punched him right in the dick if you’d heard all that.”
She tried to smile at the thought of Vax kneeing Percy in the balls. Mostly, it just made her want to cry again, wishing so badly she could see it.
She would return to the castle. She would greet the children. She would meet with her attendants and head into the city for the Town Hall meeting and be perfectly and wonderfully diplomatic, as usual. It’s not like she really had a choice.
Her feet lingered, and Vex wished—not for the first time—that she could get out to the woods a bit more often.
It took a few moments for her keen senses to detect footfalls, but once she did, Vex immediately stiffened. She never left the castle without a weapon, but in her haste, she’d only grabbed her light bow. It would have to do for now.
The footsteps got closer—an animal, definitely—until a large, hulking shape lumbered into view.
Vex instantly lowered her bow, sighing in relief. “Trinket, darling, you frightened me.”
A low groan from her bear confirmed the beasts’ identity, and within a few moments, Trinket was nuzzling into her side. She patted his head comfortingly, fingers latching snugly into his fur.
“Are you worried about me, dear?”
Another groan.
“Yeah, me too.” She kissed the top of his head. His uniquely bear scent bothered some folks (namely, Scanlan), but never her. She found comfort in it. It was likely the only constant thing in her life anymore.
Vex blew a kiss to the clearing as she and Trinket made their way back through town. The sun was mostly up now, bathing Whitestone in a soft pink glow. Farmers and shopkeepers were awake and bustling, nodding to her as she passed.
Likely, they all just assumed she’d been hunting with her trusty bear.
It made a convenient cover, and she wasn’t about to admit the truth.
No one knew.
Well, almost no one.
The sending stone felt heavy in her pocket as she remembered the spur of the moment call for help.
Somewhere, a certain ginger half-elf was going to be very confused when she awoke.
-----
Keyleth was exhausted.
And it wasn’t because she’d slept poorly.
Keyleth just existed in a perpetual state of exhaustion these days, and she really had no one to blame except for herself. She rose early in the mornings, liking to greet the dawn with some of the other Zephrah elders. It gave her a few moments of peace and quiet in nature before the bustle of her day.
Keyleth half-heartedly ran her fingers through her hair, which was still a bit tangled from sleep. Carefully, she put on her antler headdress and straightened it before draping the Tempest mantle across her shoulders.
“Time to greet the morning,” she told herself, inhaling deeply. When she was small, Korrin had started their day with the same phrase. She hadn’t really meant to adopt it, but she found herself saying it more often than not. A sort of mantra.
Zephrah was bathed in a gold glow by the time she strode out onto the green. The usual gentle whistling of air and wind tickled her ears, and mountains around them crested high and bright. The snow-capped peaks caught the rising sun even before the sky did.
She wasn’t the only one awake at this early hour, and several nodded respectfully or bowed as she walked by with a muttered, “Tempest.”
Keyleth smiled at them in return.
She found two familiar figures had beaten her to the sunrise overlook. Korrin’s long silver hair fluttered gently, his arm looped around that of Vilya as they stared out at the view. It wasn’t quite the same shock to see her mother as it had been seven years ago, but there were still some moments when Keyleth had to pinch herself. Now, both her parents served as elders of Zephrah—just like she’d always dreamed.
Korrin knew it was her before he’d even turned around. “No security again,” he said lightly, still facing the mountains.
Keyleth cringed. “It was just a walk across the green.”
Vilya embraced Keyleth with a kiss on her forehead. “He’s just worried about you.”
Ever since the black assailants had attacked Zephrah a while back, Korrin insisted Keyleth keep a regular, around-the-clock security detail with her wherever she went. He’d eased up a bit in recent months, but now with Orym’s concerning updates, he was right back to twenty-four hour surveillance.
Keyleth didn’t really blame him for it, and she was lucky to have some of the most wonderful warriors in Tal’dorei looking out for her, but by the gods was it annoying to have to be guarded even while she so much as pissed in the woods.
“I suppose a walk is fine,” Korrin grumbled, finally turning to greet his daughter. “I just worry about you.”
“I know, Dad.”
Keyleth was taller than both her parents, and her headdress made it even more apparent. She awkwardly maneuvered the antlers to stand shoulder to shoulder beside them. She heard Korrin begin his morning prayers, and she bowed her head as he spoke in low, hushed tones.
She’d never been a big prayer person herself, but she added a quick thought for Derrig and the others lost in the assassin attack, just as she’d done every morning since they’d given their lives for her.
They weren’t the first people to sacrifice their lives for Keyleth, and to her great sorrow, would likely not be the last. Their spirits and souls weighed heavily on her conscience.
After some time, her mind wandered to the odd message she’d received earlier that morning from Whitestone. Messages from Vex usually occurred at least once a week, sometimes more, but this one had been particularly confusing.
Keyleth. I need you.
She’d sounded so broken. So lost.
Of course, the whole thing had been cryptic as fuck. Leave it to Vex to have a mysterious breakdown before dawn and fix herself up by the time the sun rose. Keyleth had already been sent a follow-up message assuring her “not to worry” because “the temporary matter of importance had been resolved.” It had been delivered in that curt, closed-off Vex'ahlia way, but Keyleth still couldn’t shake the tone of the first message.
She could count on one hand the nights that Vex had sounded that wrecked, and nearly all of them had to do with Vax’ildan.
“Your mind is loud, Keyleth,” Vilya said, planting her hand firmly on Keyleth’s arm.
“Lots going on.” Keyleth wasn’t lying. Between meetings with the Ashari elders, trips across the globe, and now this new information from Orym, she rarely had a moment to breathe. She didn’t know how to broach the Vex topic, though. Not even with her mother. Somehow, it felt like saying Vex was breaking would make it true.
“How’s the Issylra situation?” Korrin asked.
Keyleth laughed nervously, twisting at her wrist. “Getting worse. I fear I’ll have to intervene. Our informants in Vasselheim are certain the faction is planning their moves around the Solstice.”
Korrin’s mouth twitched a little. “Intervene how?”
Keyleth cursed a little under her breath. “Oh, you know. The… normal way.”
Her father stared at her, unbelieving. “The Council has advised a periphery approach, yes?”
“I agreed.”
“But you feel it may not be enough?”
Keyleth opened her mouth to argue, to tell Korrin that as Tempest, she was entitled to make decisions on her own, and that she’d spent many sleepless nights evaluating the entire situation, and what was even the point of being this powerful if she couldn’t actually do anything good with the power , but he cut her off with a gentle chuckle.
You’ve grown up so fast,” he mused. “You’ve proven yourself a wonderful leader, and our Zephrah is lucky to have you. I trust that you’ll know what to do.”
She let his words sink in, trying to ignore the urge to curl in on herself. Most days, she cursed whoever had put her in charge of this whole place. She was awkward and fumbled her words and didn’t always say the right things in diplomatic situations. She drank too much and was too loud and often couldn’t read the room.
Still, she thought about Korrin’s words all morning—unable to get them out of her head. She played them over and over as she met with the Ashari elders, as she checked in with her security detail, as she ate her lunch. For some reason, she couldn’t help applying them to the situation with Vex.
I trust you’ll know what to do.
Over the years as the Tempest, Keyleth had learned that whenever she couldn’t make a decision, it was usually because she was missing some vital piece of information. There was something Vex was leaving out in her messages.
And she needed to figure it out.
The Ashari elders were none too pleased when she announced a spur of the moment visit to Whitestone instead of Issylra as planned. She did her best to assure them it was just a pitstop.
“Are you sure this is wise, Tempest?” one of the elders told her. Their white hair was accentuated with streaks of green and blue feathers braided between the strands. “Our contacts will be expecting you in Vasselheim by nightfall tomorrow. You said it yourself that stopping the Dura Faction is of utmost importance.”
“I know what I said.” Keyleth adjusted her grip on the Spire of Conflux. “And I meant it. But Whitestone is a powerful ally. I find it best to alert them of major world going-ons.”
“Very well.” The elder gave her a curious look. Their eyes narrowed and a bit of amusement danced behind their green irises. “Feelings can play an important role in these types of conflicts. It’s best to sort yours out before they cause more trouble.”
How very confusing.
Keyleth was really getting sick and tired of the cryptic messages. Sure, she was the Voice of the Tempest—not a fucking mind-reader. But she didn’t say any of that. She just gave a respectful nod to the elder and continued on her way. She had one last bit of business to attend to before she could make the jump to Whitestone.
The raven was waiting for her on the branches of the tree when she arrived, hopping from branch to branch impatiently.
“I know, I know,” Keyleth sighed as she approached. “I’m late today.”
She received a squawk in return.
There was no one else around. The people of Zephrah tended to give this place a wide berth when she approached. It was her place.
Their place.
“Well,” Keyleth said lightly. “I’m going to see your sister. I bet you’ll be pleased to know she’s infuriating as always. Panicked messages in the dead of night and then radio silence for the rest of the day. Makes a girl crazy.”
She could almost swear the raven smiled. But that would be silly, since ravens couldn’t smile. Vax could, though. And not a day went by that Keyleth didn’t miss seeing it.
For the first time all day, Keyleth sat. She leaned her back up against the gnarled trunk of the tree and glanced up into the branches, watching the raven hop about. She hoped he was happy. She wondered if the bird remembered any of their daily conversations or even whether it understood her at all.
Maybe it was just a lonely little thing.
She could relate to that.
Keyleth was never the first to leave their little meetings. After a while, the raven would eventually ruffle its feathers and take off, soaring high into the sky. She would watch until she couldn’t see it anymore.
Although she’d asked it over and over, Keyleth could never be sure if it was him. Maybe he just sent them from wherever he was now or perhaps… it was just a very-scheduled, regular raven. It didn’t really matter. Keyleth would keep visiting as long as the bird kept showing up.
“I’ll tell Vex you say hi,” she told the raven as it flew away this time. Her throat had become tight; her voice had dropped to a whisper. “I love you, okay?”
There was no response.
There never was.
Keyleth dashed her eyes and waved her arms, magic flowing from her fingertips. The tree trunk began to twist and unfurl—revealing a hole in the center. She could see Whitestone on the other side.
Just as she moved towards the opening, a voice stopped her.
“Tempest?” A member of her security team was standing a few feet away. “Korrin has requested we join you.”
She bit back a curse. “Meet me in Vasselheim, okay?” Glancing back at the portal, she took a step closer. She only had a few seconds before it closed. “There’s something I need to do first.”
And without leaving room to argue, she ran through.
A rush of cold air hit her upon her exit from the tree, and she was slightly off-balanced from the rushed entrance. Keyleth stumbled slightly, orienting herself and blinking. A few onlookers gasped and whispered, and she tried to ignore their stares.
No matter how many times she stepped out of the Sun Tree, her arrival never failed to cause a stir.
Glancing at the sun, Keyleth put the time at about four or five in the afternoon. The sky was darkening rapidly, which meant Vex would likely be up at the castle. She began her march up to the gates.
The guards, at the very least, knew her immediately and let her inside without much fuss. She was glad to leave the prying and awestruck citizens behind as she hurried up the front walk.
The castle windows were flooded with bright, warm golden light, and even the foyer was warm compared to the frosty dusk beyond.
“The Lord and Lady are having their dinner,” one of the guards told her as he took her mantle. Keyleth smoothed her green dress and wished she’d had more time to tame her hair. “Shall we inform them of your arrival?”
“No need.” Keyleth was already headed towards the dining room. “I’ll just go see them.” She knew they wouldn’t mind. Most likely. Not unless there were guests over. She paused, looking back over her shoulder. “Hey, there’s no state dinner tonight, right?”
“No, Tempest.”
“A Council gala?”
“No.”
“Cool.” Keyleth gave him a smile and a shrug. “Awesome. Thanks… I guess.”
She resumed her march to the dining room, already hearing the voices of the children and the sound of silverware scraping dishes as she approached. The meal smelled divine, even from the hall. Maybe the chef had some extra to spare.
Against her better judgment, Keyleth slowed her pace to try and listen to the snatches of conversation. Occasionally, she heard Percy chime in, but no Vex, yet.
“There’s the Harvest Close Festival on the third,” Percy was saying. Keyleth detected a tightness in his voice. “I believe we should both make an appearance.”
“I’ll check my calendar.” That was Vex. And there was definite stiffness there.
“And there’s a dinner in two days,” Percy continued stubbornly, as if he didn’t hear or didn’t care for the sourness in his wife’s tone. “It’s important we showcase a unified front for our Wildemount guests.”
“Well, Keyleth isn’t visiting anymore,” Vex said. There was almost no emotion in her voice, and Keyleth could practically see the way her lip must be curling. She twinged with guilt, a reflex from years of fighting Vex’s disappointment.
With a hurried rush, Keyleth surged forward—planning to storm into the dining room and prove Vex wrong—but one misstep caused her dress to tangle with her shoes and instead of a powerful entrance, Keyleth stumbled her way into view with a yelp.
“Not true,” she panted once she’d regained her balance, hands on her knees in a very un-Tempest fashion “I’m here. Hello.”
Two things happened then:
The children erupted in echoing cries of “Auntie Keyleth!” and other joyful shouts.
And Vex snorted wine through her nose, half standing up from the table in shock.
She covered her mouth and her nose, bright red as she spluttered. Percy immediately handed her a napkin which she took, then clapped her on the back.
“K-Keyleth,” Vex said at last, still coughing between breaths. “Darling, you certainly know how to enter a room.”
“Hi.” Keyleth gave a little wave. “I, uh, didn’t think that through, I don’t think.”
“No, you didn’t,” Vex laughed—but not in a mean way. She was gentle about it. “I thought you said you couldn’t make it.”
Keyleth grabbed another napkin and helped to mop up the spilled wine, ruffling little Gwen’s hair as she passed by her chair. “I changed my mind.”
Vex stared at her, eyes narrowed. It was a look that usually pierced right through Keyleth, unraveling her deepest layers. She stubbornly avoided eye contact, focusing on the wine.
“Dear,” Vex put her hand on Percy’s shoulder, and Keyleth detected only the slightest tension. “I’m going to catch up with Kiki if that’s alright. I would ask for your assistance helping the children get to bed, but I think I’ll leave that with the servants for tonight.”
Keyleth winced at the jab, giving Percy a stilted half smile. “Sorry.” She didn’t even really know what she was apologizing for.
“Quite alright.” Luckily, he was almost as awkward as her in these sorts of situations. Neither of them liked being on the other end of Vex’s anger. “Good to see you, Tempest.”
She’d once considered Percy one of her closest friends, yet their connection as of late had been… stunted at best. And she didn’t really understand why. She chalked it up to time and distance.
“Enjoy your… activities.” Percy coughed a little on the last word.
Keyleth blushed, casting her eyes down. She hadn’t visited with that in mind, although she could see where Percy’s mind might be traveling.
Vex took the opportunity to grab Keyleth’s arm, practically pulling her out of the dining room. She let herself get dragged, trying to keep up.
“ Ow,” Keyleth said once they were farther away, pulling her arm from Vex’s grasp. “I’m supposed to be the one with claws.”
Now that they were out of the dining room, Keyleth watched Vex sink a little. Apparently, she’d been putting on what Keyleth privately liked to call her “diplomat pants” and now, a hint of her true emotions were peeking through.
As they stood there, Keyleth realized it had been entirely too long since she’d seen Vex last. She looked absolutely ravishing (as usual) in a floor-length burgundy gown, gold piping sprayed up the sleeves and bodice. It hugged her generous chest and accentuated her curves, and honestly, Keyleth stared a little longer than perhaps she should’ve. Vex certainly knew how to wear a dress.
“What’s wrong?” Vex asked, taking Keyleth’s hands in hers and clutching them like a lifeline.
Keyleth blinked, snapping back to attention. “Nothing.” And then—“I didn’t send a very scary message in the middle of the night, did I?”
For just a second, something like embarrassment flashed across Vex’s face. “Oh, that. Didn’t you get my other message? I’m fine, darling. All good now.”
“What happened?”
“Just had a moment.”
“You’re being vague.” Keyleth put on her best pout. It was a childish thing to do, but Vex seemed to have a soft spot for it.
True enough, Vex heaved a sigh and started for the stairs. “I suppose it’s been too long since we had a girls’ night. You used to love our little sleepovers.”
Keyleth tried to hide her giddiness as she hurried to keep pace. “Oh, can we use the nice blankets?”
“Yes, darling. And lots of wine if I’m going to divulge my middle-of-the-night secrets.”
“Awesome.” Keyleth tested another sarcastic comment. “Maybe don’t spit it out your nose this time, though.”
Surprisingly, Vex threw back her head and laughed. It echoed up and down the grand foyer, a loud and wonderful thing. It made the fluttering in Keyleth’s stomach speed up, and her face grew hot.
It was a nice sound, Vex’s laugh.
Keyleth barely registered that it was the first real smile Vex had given her all night.