[ They're all processing what happened in their own way. Percy vanishes into his workshop. Pike prays to her goddess. Grog terrorizes the new recruits. Keyleth hovers, worried and watchful. Scanlan sees himself into Whitestone's library. No one talks about what happened, neither Vex's near-death or Vax's promise or the fight that came after even though Percy wears the bruise in vivid purples and greens on his cheek the entire trek back to Whitestone.
Vax doesn't talk about it. But he dreams. Vex'ahlia gives him back the armor they drew from the tomb and he puts it on, but a weight comes with it. He bargained for this. He asked for this. (Take me instead.) Vax doesn't regret it. He could never, ever regret it, but he's finding it very hard to look his sister in the face just now, so he doesn't. He vanishes from her sight, and he doesn't complain when she takes Trinket and slips into the trees. In the meantime he exhausts himself in the training room, and lies awake most nights, but there's only so long he can avoid the inevitable. Sleep will come. The dreams will come. She will come.
He dreams of threads. He dreams of Her face, looming over him. Her voice rings in his ears. He is paralyzed by it, like prey scenting a far larger predator bearing down on them. Each dream reminds him: something very old and very powerful has laid a claim on him. He imagines he can feel it in his chest, as if the threads from his dreams are tied neatly around his heart and cinch tighter with each passing moment.
This night, he drinks terrible liquor with Grog and Keyleth and Pike. He was hoping, when he finally staggers back to his room, that he would pass out and see nothing, but he sees Her anyway. When the mattress dips beneath him, he startles awake with the terrible sensation of falling, clammy with sweat, and has a breathless moment of confused fear when he realizes someone is in his bed that only abates when he realizes— ]
Hello, Stubby.
[ His voice is very quiet in the dark. He thinks of getting up, but instead curls towards her. They slept like this as children, a pair of closed parentheses. His knees knock hers. He takes a breath, exhales slowly, letting the clashing impulses settle into tired resignation. She is here. He wants her here. There will be no avoiding her this time. ]
no subject
Vax doesn't talk about it. But he dreams. Vex'ahlia gives him back the armor they drew from the tomb and he puts it on, but a weight comes with it. He bargained for this. He asked for this. (Take me instead.) Vax doesn't regret it. He could never, ever regret it, but he's finding it very hard to look his sister in the face just now, so he doesn't. He vanishes from her sight, and he doesn't complain when she takes Trinket and slips into the trees. In the meantime he exhausts himself in the training room, and lies awake most nights, but there's only so long he can avoid the inevitable. Sleep will come. The dreams will come. She will come.
He dreams of threads. He dreams of Her face, looming over him. Her voice rings in his ears. He is paralyzed by it, like prey scenting a far larger predator bearing down on them. Each dream reminds him: something very old and very powerful has laid a claim on him. He imagines he can feel it in his chest, as if the threads from his dreams are tied neatly around his heart and cinch tighter with each passing moment.
This night, he drinks terrible liquor with Grog and Keyleth and Pike. He was hoping, when he finally staggers back to his room, that he would pass out and see nothing, but he sees Her anyway. When the mattress dips beneath him, he startles awake with the terrible sensation of falling, clammy with sweat, and has a breathless moment of confused fear when he realizes someone is in his bed that only abates when he realizes— ]
Hello, Stubby.
[ His voice is very quiet in the dark. He thinks of getting up, but instead curls towards her. They slept like this as children, a pair of closed parentheses. His knees knock hers. He takes a breath, exhales slowly, letting the clashing impulses settle into tired resignation. She is here. He wants her here. There will be no avoiding her this time. ]
What are you and my nephew doing in here?