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Chapter Text

The call had started early.  Songs of hammers striking metal, heat of the roaring fire, the smells and sounds of the forge.  Finicky details and puzzles.  Taking things apart to learn.  Devouring books to understand the gears and cogs that made up life.  Percy was born to create and build and, most importantly, tinker.  He was a twitchy, skinny, speedy whirlwind.  He was always getting into trouble trying to learn.  Luckily for him, his parents found it adorable.

“What’s got your attention, pup?” His father’s voice was warm and affectionate.  Percy’s little ears went red but he resolutely stared at the simple, gorgeous clock on the mantle.  Lord Frederickstein de Rolo, who shared a love of science with his third-born though his was directed towards botany and agriculture, scooped the boy up and grabbed the clock, “Shall we take a look?”

“Can we?”  Percy’s blue eyes lit up with absolute joy and Fred laughed, kissing his mop of brown tangles.

“Of course!  We’ll figure out clockmaking together, eh?”

So Percy grew in an encouraging home.  A loving home.  A very loud home.  Six siblings—a future paladin, the next lady of Whitestone, an eventual bard, twin wizards, and an irritating rogue-in-training—made for a chaotic, wild, noisy castle.  The seven De Rolo children provided hours of free entertainment with their shenanigans.  Percy was by far the quietest of the lot and was usually found in the library or playing with some sort of puzzle.  Even if that puzzle happed to be his Mama’s favorite pocket watch from Kraghammer.

It wasn’t until he met a grizzled, easily irritated dwarf traveler that he realized what was happening.  Within weeks, he was spending most of his free time at the palace smithy with his new teacher.  At night, he poured over books of mechanics and science and metals.

Percy was being called by the Allhammer, like his brother Julius was called by Pelor.

He threw himself into his studies.  The Allhammer called for worship through doing.  Creating.  Building.  Leaving a legacy.  Within months, each of his family members received trinkets made of clockwork and metal and innovation.  Percy produced with a fervor and a fury.  Designs, schematics, theories, and more flew out of his new workshop on the lower levels.  He created and created.  A perfect pocket watch for his father so he wouldn’t miss any meetings while lost in his books.  A fencing foil for his mother and a longsword for his brother to use on their future quests on behalf of Pelor.  A beautiful jewelry set for his beloved twin and the future Lady of Whitestone, enchanted against poisons by a talented wizard.  Elegant pens with replaceable nibs for his wizard siblings to create their own spellbooks, along with personalized belts to carry their supplies.  A crossbow for his young bard sibling, something he could use to defend himself from a distance, and a match to Percy’s own preferred weapon.  Lastly, for his baby sister, for the child he was closest to besides his twin, he made perfectly balanced throwing blades.  His uncles and grandfather, who lived in Whitestone, also received presents of jewelry and clocks and writing implements.  Each gift had been made with love and were treasured by his family.

With time, his master departed ad he was left alone to innovate.  His father brought on a new tutor, a Whitestone native and second noble son, trained in the advanced sciences across the see in Wildemount.  Professor Anders saw the potential in Percy, but did not understand his faith.  Anders only craved power.  He could not understand service and legacy.  He was no fool, though, and carefully hid this deficiency from his young student.  Instead, he faked understanding and drew the young man in.  He became Percy’s confidant and mentor.  This trust allowed him too much freedom in Whitestone.

For the de Rolos could not even imagine the evils this old ‘friend’ was capable of with proper motivation.

Within two years, just after Percy’s 17^th birthday, the Tragedy of Whitestone occurred.  The castle was taken, many of the nobles killed or captured, the common folk slaughtered and terrorized, and the town held firmly under the boot of tyrants.  The monsters, for the Briarwoods and their ilk were monsters straight out of the Abyss and hells, tortured and murdered and coated the ground with gore.  Pleas and screams went out to the gods, but replies were weak.  Muted.  Blocked by something unholy and wrong.

We do not need to describe the abominations and destructions.  To speak of such things in detail is to invite the darkness into one’s mind.  All we must know is very little was not employed in the Briarwoods’ torture.  There were few lies the mad couple refused to cross, few restrictions placed on their people as they released hell upon the people.  Percy was one such victim.  He survived, to an extent, but he would always be changed by those experiences.  He would forever bear the scars both mentally and physically in any universe, no matter his course.

In one timeline, he was reduced to pure instinct.  Every single thing that made Percy himself was stripped away.  He had no reason to continue his fight as the people and home he loved were violated just as he was.  Were destroyed.  Percy fled without a thought, an animal in flight from a predator, blind to everything around him.  This was a vulnerable Percy de Rolo.  A lost Percy, adrift, who bore no name but Minnow and Bilgerat for a full year before remembering.  A Percy willing to make any deal for revenge.  A Percy with absolutely nothing to lose for far, far too long.

But this was a Percy with a reason to keep his mind and heart alive.  He had a connection to his god, faint and weak as it was in those days, and a living daughter to keep him centered.  Anna loved to torment Percy in all worlds.  In some, the girl was never born.  In others, Anna disposed of the child when she became too much work.  In this world, Anna used her as a tool.  Percy behaved when given his girl—his child, not Anna’s never Anna’s—and he would bide his time to rescue her.

So, the familiar story happened.  His youngest and favorite sister—a twin could not be a favorite, a twin was a part of your soul and oh how Percy’s ached so deeply now—had escaped, avoided capture for a year, liberated the child, and saved her brother.  She had shoved the baby into his arms, weak as they were, and ordered him fiercely to protect her niece and his daughter first.

In this world, Cassandra still falls but she does so with pride.  She is not abandoned.  Instead, she leads the parties away from her half-dead brother and little niece so they could escape to the river.  To a small boat she had set up.  She had driven Percy on until he ran on pure adrenaline, blind to anything but the path before under his bare feet and the warm weight of his daughter in his arms.  Then, Cassandra turned to face the monsters with pride in her heart and a fire in her belly.  Her brother would save her niece.  He would raise her.  It was a worthy sacrifice.

Percy dove into the river once again, drawing on his inner fire to keep his little one alive, rescued by a fishing vessel that took them further south.  He worked on that ship for two years, allowing his girl to grow safe under the protective eye of the crew.  Only the encroaching Briarwood forces drove him from the vessel.  Drove them both south.  Straight into the arms of a new family.  One that would help him protect his daughter.  He could not use their real names on the journey, of course.  To do so would attract far too much attention.  They were the Smiths, a transient Tinkerer and his child, driven from the North by family tragedy.  But Percy never forgot their true names, his daughter’s name.

Beauregard Cassandra de Rolo of Whitestone.

Chapter Text

Percy had learned to keep his head down in the years since Whitestone had fallen.  The world was hard and cold to those in or on the edge of poverty.  He had been lucky.  The Ice Wind had scooped him and Beau out of the frozen sea and given them a home.  His magic, intelligence, and dexterity had made him an invaluable crewmember.  Captain Smith had been a kind-hearted if gruff man, a giant half-orc that reminded Percy fondly of his uncle, who had understood why his two rescues desperately needed shelter.

Fuck, the old orc had given him and Beau a name to use to stay safe.  De Rolo was noticeable.  Smith was not.

He had been a giant man with a long, scraggly white beard in direct contrast with his bald head.  Beau lived on her father’s back in a sling Heri, the Captain’s wife and first mate, taught him to tie or on the old man’s hip.  Smith and Heri were long in the habit of taking in lost souls to crew their ship of all races.  A half-orc and a drow helf-elf understood better than most the cruelties of the world.  Percy was one of the few to stay more than a few months.  He grew close with Pip, a halfling that practically lived in the rigging and never spoke of his life beyond the ship, and Daetre, a firbolg from Wildemount and the ship’s cook.  Each taught him new skills.

Smith taught him to sail and fight for real life and speak some orc.  Heri taught him to raise a child while working, how to keep your head down and shrug off insults, how to smile at even the vilest of people, and how to say NO and back it up.  Pip taught him to climb, to tie knots, some halfling, and to fight dirty.  Daetre taught him how to bargain and barter, hands-on healing, a bit of Sylvan, and how to cook in a kitchen and over a campfire.  From all of them, he learned to trust again.

He would never have left if not for the Briarwood guards and ‘diplomats’ coming further west.

Smith, Heri, Pip, and Daetre had saved enough gold to kit him and Beau out for travel.  They had sent him off with enough supplies to last at least two months, a horse, and nicer clothing to help him get jobs.  Using their gold, he outfitted himself with a new sword and a crossbow for defense purposes only.  So began another transient life, traveling south, picking up as much work as he could as he went.  Few were willing to hire on a single father and few were willing to rent out rooms.  Thankfully, Percy had found kindness in brothels.  They were the main congregation of single parents, were more than willing to let out a private room in the living spaces rather than in the public ones, and would watch Beau for him during the day.  Even the temples were not as hospitable, though a few were willing to mind his daughter for him.

However, that could lead to the situation he now found himself in.  Percy was, as always, staying at the local brothel under the protection of the Madame.  Urna was a protective, tough, vicious bitch of a dwarf who guarded hers fiercely.  Her employees were treated and paid well, never hurting for work as the village rested on a major crossroads.  Travelers were a constant as caravans moved in and out.  Percy had quickly found work with the local smith.  Urna or her daughter Lee would watch Beau.  Worst case, Father Gregory at the local Pelor Temple was overjoyed to watch the intelligent, precocious three-year-old.  Because he stayed at the well-known building, some people assumed he was for hire in that way as well.  Which he wasn’t.  But ‘no’ doesn’t mean no to some people.

So Percy would sneak around the village to avoid him as often as possible to avoid those people and ger to his rented forge.  He rolled his neck and stretched before concentrating on repairing a crossbow for one of the caravan guards.  It was a simple repair for him and left him free to think.

Percy had to keep his head down, pinch his coins, and pray that he could save enough for them to settle down.  Sadly, life was expensive and he couldn’t afford to buy his own forge.  Nor would ay smith take him on as he was too old to apprentice or they had children to inherit the shop.  Percy was left struggling to make coin and living on the kindness of others, usually living hand to mouth.  As a result, no one could really stop men like Captain Shirken from hassling him ceaselessly as Percy tried to go about his life.

“Excuse me.  I heard there was a tinkerer in town?”

Percy looked up from the repair, stretching and standing before moving to the counter, “That would me, sir.  What can I do for you?”

A rather handsome half-elf, fine Syngornian features paired with the rounded and deep dark eyes common to southern Issylria, stood there.  Some sort of rogue based on the daggers and dark leathers.  He looked rather charming, wide eyes and a sheepish smile on his face, “I broke a dagger and could use a repair.”

Percy raised an eyebrow, “May I see the piece?”

“Here,” he handed Percy a dagger snapped cleanly in half.  Percy winced as he took in the cheap metal and poor make, “Can you fix it?”

“Not with the forge.  It can’t take the hammering.”

“It was 5 gold!”

“You were cheated.  This is barely worth one.”

“Dammit!  I need it!”  The distress on his face was very real.  Percy winced, recognizing familiar desperation and exhaustion, the struggle of poverty.  He rolled his shoulders and reached out to cast his favorite but rarely used cantrip.  In a flash of flame and a few seconds, the dagger was mended, “H-how-  Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

“Here!”  The half-elf shoved a handful of coins, silver and copper, into Percy’s hand, “Thank you!”

“This is too much!”

“No, it’s not.  My name is Vax, if you need anything.  I’m at the Traveler’s Bed Inn.”

“Thank you?”

The half-elf was out the door before he could protest more.  Percy shrugged and added the coin to his purse.  He could use it to work on his weapon, the one the Allhammer had insisted he build months before.  It was fiddly, new, and dangerous.  His god had insisted it was necessary despite the danger inherent to the weapon.  Percy preferred to use his crossbow or swords instead.  The consequences of this thing worried him but Moradin was insistent.

Of course, he would only do so after he had bought a little something for Beau.  Maybe a toy or a new book.  She had been so good lately, not fighting other kids or giving her minders trouble.

***

Vex was utterly furious with her brother.  He had overpaid that cleric grievously for the use of a basic mending spell.  Not even Vax’s apologies could help.  They needed that coin to buy supplies.  Without it, they couldn’t afford the new cloak Vax desperately needed.  Her twin had insisted it was fine, sheepishly explained that he had been cheated out of his coin for the dagger in the first place, and that the smith had been stunned by the amount of money shoved into his hands.

She needed to at least get their money’s worth out of it!  If he could fix things, maybe he would fix her quiver strap.  It was frayed and close to breaking.  Not to mention, it had already been repaired a few too many times.  If this smith was so good, he would fix it.

Thankfully, it had been relatively easy to track him down.  Though a few people had made faces when they told her where he was staying.  Vex hadn’t understood until she saw the place.  It was the local brothel, which made her scowl.  Of course a man chose to stay at a brothel rather than a regular inn!  So typical.

She stomped up to the front counter before the common area and bar, “I need to talk to the Smith.”

The dwarf woman behind the counter scowled at her, “You aren’t going to give Percy any trouble, are you?  He’s a good tenant and a nice young man.”

“No.  Just need to talk to him.”

“Fine.  Through the kitchen and storeroom, up the back staircase to the third level.  He’s in the first room on the right.”

She blinked, “Third floor?”

“He ain’t interested in the girls, just a relatively safe place to sleep that doesn’t break his purse.  So he rents one of the rooms I have for servants.”

“O-oh.”

Well, that wasn’t typical.  She followed the instructions up to the room, more confused than angry now.  A bit curious, too.  She knocked at the door and felt her ears blush at the man behind it.  He was tall and skinny—almost too skinny, like her and Vax—with a shock of white hair.  He was also young, maybe early twenties at most, with tired blue eyes and a very handsome face.  Vex stared at him and then at the little girl snuggled against his chest, sucking her thumb and clutching a plush dragon.  Suddenly, that coin Vax had so thoughtlessly handed over seemed to be too little.

“Yes?”  Oh, his voice.  Rough, strong, but posh still.  Educated.  His eyebrow went up with the corner of his mouth, “You aren’t Vax, right?”

“His sister.  Vex.”

“Vax and Vex?”

“Our mother always claimed baby brain on her name decisions,” Vex said without thinking, making him laugh, “My brother said you knew mending?”

“I do.  He overpaid me today.”

“If you can fix my quiver, we can call it square.”

“Come on in.  I’ll take a look.”

Vex followed him into the cramped room.  A few toys were scattered around—a pair of wooden swords, two toy soldiers, a soft dog toy—and there were tools scattered across the desk in the corner.  One bed, a child’s quilt tangled in the sheets.  Very little to mark this as more than a transient space for the duo.  Her heart hurt a bit.  At least Elaina had owned her home and a little plot for a garden.  This man didn’t even have that much.  He settled the child into the bed and tucked her under the quilt, pressing a gentle kiss to her head, before turning.

“Quiver, please.  And try to keep it down.  Beau is a deep sleeper, but it’s hell getting her down,” he took the quiver over to his desk, settling down to look at it, “This is old.  I can Mend it, but you will need to replace it soon.”

“Thank you.”

“You can call me Percy,” he hummed, gripping the symbol resting on the desk and casting the cantrip, “Easy enough to repair.”

Vex was still staring at the human, head tilted as she observed him, “Thank you, darling.  I best be off.”

“I feel like we’re even,” he smiled at her.

Oh, shit.

He was absolutely gorgeous when he smiled.  She grinned back, winking, making him color, “Come by our inn.  I’ll buy you a drink, darling.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Goodnight, darling,” Vex made sure to add a little role to her hips as she exited.  She grinned.  He was handsome, that was for sure.  She could probably get some more work out of him before she and Vax left this village.

***

Percy held in the shivers.  Vex’s eyes on him, her smirk, that fucking wink.  It had lit a part of him he thought far too damaged to function.  His whole body had wanted to shiver under her heady gaze and that sharp slash of a grin.  Fuck, his childhood crushes paled in comparison.  His heart and instincts had screamed to hand her his purse, to go to his knees in the Northern style.  The rest of him, still too scarred from Anna, had rebelled.  Holy shit.

“Daddy!”  Beau tugged on his hand, pouting.  Shit.  He had actually stopped in the street, “I wanna go to the temple!  Father Greg promised to let me start a new book!”

“Oh, my deepest apologies, princess,” she stuck her tongue out at him and he grinned, leading her to the temple.  Beau loved to learn.  At least other clerics respected him enough to willingly help teach her.  It wasn’t like he could afford school or a governess. 

He was just a smith and tinkerer now.

Percy sighed and began his walk to work, desperately trying not to think of fine eyes gleaming with sardonic wit and keen intelligence.  Dammit.  Well, at least Percy knew he was capable of both physical and emotional attraction still.

“Hello, Smith,” a slimy voice and sweaty arm went around his shoulders.  Percy ducked, clutching his satchel, shivering.  Fuck.  The captain.  Not that the captain wasn’t a handsome man.  Just.  Not Percy’s type.  Apparently, his type was sarcastic and intelligent and entirely too beautiful for a wreck like him.

“Captain,” Percy forced a smile, inching down the path.

“I was wondering if you’d reconsidered my offer,” pale green eyes ran down Percy’s form and he shuddered.  Ugh, “I could offer you steady work.”

“I have plenty to do at the forge.  Did you here that the mayor had me fix his clock last week?”

“Hm.  I didn’t think you were serious with this tinkerer ruse.”

“I am a tinkerer, though,” Percy curled into himself, pulling his satchel closer.  Control.

“We both know you stay at Urna’s for a reason.”

“Well, yes, I can’t afford an inn longterm.  Urna is more willing to work with me on prices and will watch Beau on occasion in exchange for some handyman work,” Percy took in a deep breath.  Control.  He couldn’t afford to attack the captain of the guard.  He would be jailed or executed.  He had to control himself.  But he was afraid and cornered.  That made him angry.

“Percy, darling!”

Oh, thank the Allhammer.  Vex’s arm went through his and squeezed.  Vax leaned against his side.  He smiled, small and tight and strained and just so relieved, “Hello, Vex.”

“You promised to talk upgrades with us today!  You were almost late to our appointment!”  Vex steered him away, “Pardon us, Captain.  Business to conduct.”

“We’re on a time limit, after all,” Vax fiddled with a dagger.  Together, the twins steered him away from the frustrated captain.  Percy got them all inside before slumping against the door with a relieved sigh.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“Fine, Vex.  I just nearly shot him is all,” Percy offered her a strained smile, hanging his satchel on the spare hook and stripping down to his shirt, “He will not take no for an answer.  I’ll likely have to move on soon because of it.”

“He shouldn’t be able to get away with that,” Vax scowled, crossing his arms as he leant against the door.  Percy and Vex both turned incredulous eyes at him, “What?”

“Vax,” Vex spoke slowly, as if she genuinely thought her brother was an idiot, “Any man in power can get away with it.  You are just sufficiently tall, threatening, and dour enough to avoid the worst of the harassment.  Why do you think I prefer the woods?”

“I-  Oh.”

“So, Percy dear, what are you going to do?”  Vex turned to face the human, frowning.  His heart thumped a bit.  She looked so concerned, so genuine.  Oh, he really was in trouble.

“I’ll head out in a day or two,” Percy slumped into his chair, leaning back, “I need to avoid trouble.  Beau will be disappointed.”

“Why not travel with us, dear?  We can protect each other on the road and help you look after your girl.”

“I-  Are you sure?”

“I’m more than fine with it.  Vax?”

“I like him,” Vax grinned, winking at Percy, “He’s handsome.”

Percy blushed, squeaking out a thank you, running through plans in his head.  It would definitely be cheaper and safer to travel with these two rather than alone or pay for a caravan.  Plus, he could trust that they would not hurt Beau.  He had a good feeling in his stomach.

“I’ll gladly travel with you both,” he nodded, grinning.

“Excellent!  I think I can procure some more coin for our ventures,” Vax grinned, “I’ll meet you at the inn tonight.”

“Be careful, Scrawny,” Vex chastised him.  Percy chuckled and set to work.  He could finish out all of his orders, get paid, and inform his landlord in the hours until dusk.  Vex settled herself on the counter to keep him quiet company.  They chatted a bit to whittle away the time he needed to wrap up.  Slowly, they learned a bit about each other.  Vex took over all customer interactions, casually and carefully manipulating people into paying him more than was promised for ‘such excellent work’.

That woman was a vision.

As Percy cleaned up his tools and gear, after informing the old man he would need a new tenant for the forge, he bit his lip.  Vex was obviously brilliant.  Intelligent, kind, good with coin.  He was already trusting her with his and Beau’s lives.  Plus, she wouldn’t understand the gesture.  Only his fellow Northerners would understand the significance.  Or, well, his former countrymen.

“Vex, I’d like it if you took care of this for me,” he settled his coin purse into her palm, turning to finish packing, unable to meet her eyes because it made him just too vulnerable, “I trust you with it.”

“I-Are you sure?”  The shock and vulnerability in her voice made him shudder.  He nodded silently, “I’ll take good care of it, darling.:”

Percy knew she would.  Everything in him, his heart and inner flame and the vague, rumbling voice he had grown so used to hearing in his ear, told him Vex would care for him and for Beau as she did her brother.

So, just like a far more scared Percy in another lifetime, he took a leap of faith.

Chapter Text

“Daddy!”  Beau sprinted across the floor to throw herself into her father’s arms.  He laughed as he scooped her up, snuggling her into his chest, pressing kisses to her cheeks as she giggled.  Vex couldn’t help the soft smile that covered her face at the sight.  Beau was certainly older than Vex had expected.  She was maybe three and Percy was certainly in his early, early twenties at most.

It painted a much different picture of the man.

“Say thank you to the father.”

“Yes, Daddy!”  She turned to beam at the old priest, “Thank you for letting me read your books!  I liked the ones about the angels best!”

“You’re welcome, little one,” Father Gregory bowed, “Master Smith, I believe you have a future member of the Cobalt Soul in your arms.”

“What’s that?”

“Monks who collect and guard knowledge.  They defend and maintain libraries.”

“Whoa,” Beau breathed out, “Daddy, can we go?!”

“Well, maybe we can head over to Westruun.  They have a library there,” Percy chuckled, pressing another fond kiss against her hair.  It was odd to see a father so blatantly affectionate.  At least, for Vex given she was used to the stiff and harsh elven styles.  She tilted her head to observe the two.  Percy’s clothing was of decent make, sturdy but simple, and mended.  The repairs were done well, but she could still see them.  His daughter was dressed in far nicer and far newer pieces.  Percy obviously prioritized her above himself.  Her opinion of his character certainly rose again at that.

“Oh…  Are we leaving?”  Beau bit her lip, conflict obvious in her soft and sweet face.

“Yes, pup.  We’re heading out.  Thank you, father, for all of your help,” he hugged her tightly, offering the father a sad smile, “Thank you for everything, Father.  I really appreciate all of the help you gave me.”

“We’ll miss you, Percy,” the elderly human patted his arm gently, “And your girl.  A cleric of the Allhammer was an excellent addition to the village.”

“I am sorry to leave, but there are… Unforeseen complications.”

“Safe travels,” he patted Percy’s arm once again and trundled off into the depths of the temple.

“Who are they, Daddy?”  Beau still had her arms wrapped around his neck, sharp eyes focusing on the twins.  Vex had to physically restrain the cooing sound at how adorable Beau was, at the brilliantly intelligent blue eyes shared by the pair.  Beau also shared Percy’s heavy brows and defined nose, but the rest of her features were definitely inherited from her mother: dark skin, sharp cheekbones, a full mouth.  Vex was reminded of a few Dwedelian traders she had met on the road, hailing from the western regions of the country.  Perhaps her mother hailed from those regions.

“That is Vex and Vax.  They offered to travel with us so we stay safe,” Percy grinned at them, “They helped keep me safe from the captain earlier.”

“I don’t like him.  He’s gross.”

“I don’t like him, either.”

“Is that why we have to go?”  Beau scowled, “Just ‘cause he won’t leave you alone?”

“Yes, pup,” Percy sighed deeply, brushing a kiss against her head as they walked back to the brothel, “We’re going to say good-bye to everyone and pack, then go with Vex and Vax to their inn to sleep for the night.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

“We can meet you there.  If you need time,” Vax offered with a small smile, eyes soft.  Vex could tell that he was already on the verge of adopting these two.  Good thing she was in complete agreement.  These two definitely needed the twins to look out for them.  And Percy was absolutely adorable.

***

Beau liked the twins and their bear.  They were so nice and funny and friendly.  If Daddy got tired carrying her, one of them would scoop her up.  Trinket let her ride on him and cuddle him all the time.  It was so much fun.  Vax had the best games to play and jokes.  Vex told the best stories and taught her lots of cool stuff.  Daddy was still her favorite, though.

He seemed so much happier, too!  He was smiling lots and more relaxed.  They had lots more coins after a month with Vex ad Vax than she had ever seen!  Her daddy and the twins would take ‘jobs’ while she stayed with Trinket in the woods or with a local priest.  Then, they’d come back with lots more money.  Daddy still did his tinkering, but not as much as he worked with the twins.

They always had food and new clothes and she even got new toys!  She loved traveling with them.  She missed her old friends a bit, but moving was a big part of their lives.  It was how they did things.  Daddy never really explained why they never settled.  He always promised he would when she was older.

Beau wished she could be older sooner.

“That is a deep thinking face,” Vax teased as he cleaned his daggers.  Beau scooted over to snuggle under his arm.  He laughed and tucked her into his cloak, “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Why does it take so long to grow up?  Daddy says he won’t esplain certain things to me until I’m older.”

“Well, you need to grow,” he hummed, tapping his dagger against his boot, “It’s like bread.  You need to be mixed together just right, given time to rise, then baked.  Rushing bread just makes it gross, right?  So you need to be patient and let it happen in the right time.”

“…  You’re weird, Uncle Vax.”

“I know!”  He laughed, ruffling her hair, “But do you get it?”

“I guess.  It reminds me of Daddy making clocks and toys.  He hasta be super careful and slow so everything works right.”

“Kid, you are smarter than me.”

“Duh.”

“Oh, hush, you,” he tapped her head, “Don’t get a big head like your Dad.”

“Okay,” she bit her lip, thinking, “Uncle Vax, I think Daddy likes Vex.  Like a princess in the stories.”

Vax blinked at her for a few seconds before a huge grin split his face.  He cackled, falling over, “Percy is like a princess, isn’t he?  All delicate and proper!”

“And Vex is the prince comin’ to save him,” Beau beamed at her third favorite person, “Do you think they’ll get married?”

“Maybe.  We’ll have to help them along.”

“Yay!”

***

Percy followed Vex through the forest as silently as possible, helping set snares and hunt, desperately trying not to be distracted by the gorgeous half-elf.  Vex was only growing more appealing the longer he knew her.  She was so intelligent and skilled and good to Beau.  Fuck, he wanted to lay open his whole soul to her.  Let her see the worst parts of him.

Wanted to go to his knees for real.

“Darling, we have a problem,” Vex had never sounded so furiously cold, pointing to a dim light flickering in the forest dusk, “Poachers.”

“Shall we handle it?  I do not want them coming near Beau or Trinket?”

“Would you mind terribly?”

“Not at all, dearest.”

They slipped through the forest like shadows, bow and crossbow ready, eying the four poachers.  Percy flinched at the carnage and the pained animal noises he could hear under the carousing of the assholes.  Vex signaled him and they flew into action.  The inebriation worked in their favor as they decimated the poachers in a matter of minutes.  They were all dead on the ground before they could even land proper attacks, too drunk to fight and defend.

Percy sneered at the men as Vex moved around the various animals.  Some she set free, others she healed, two she put out of their misery.  He flinched at the gory sight of the barely living boar and deer.  Percy kicked a corpse viciously, then paused as he heard a whimper.  He pushed his way through the camp to a cage.  A cage holding a half-grown pup.

A black blink dog, mottled with brown and red spots, cowering away from him in fear.  He crooned in his fractured, simple Sylvan as he worked at the lock.  The pup whined softly, still hunkered down but the head tilted curiously.  Percy chuckled, “Hello, little.  I help.  Sylvan not much good.  No teacher.  Who’s good pup?  You!”

The pup yapped happily, wiggling in the too small cage, allowing Percy to see the awful color around her—he could see she was a female—neck.  Finally, he broke the cage open and pulled her out.  Percy removed the collar with gentle hands.  The pup yapped and began to lick his face happily.  He couldn’t help the laughter than bubbled out of his throat.

“Did you make a new friend, darling?”

“Vex!  This is Pepper!” Percy beamed, carrying the pup despite the fact she was almost too big to carry, “She’s a Blink Dog!”

“Well, hello, Miss Pepper.  We should head back with the meat and Pepper.”

“Thank you, dearest,” he laughed and set Pepper down, “She’ll be an excellent teammate.  And Trinket will have a friend.”

“Of course, Percy Dear.”

He beamed and followed, Pepper loyally at his side.  This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship for sure.

Chapter Text

Percy worked well with the twins and Trinket and Pepper.  Beau was growing faster, healthier, eyes brighter.  He was gaining weight.  They no longer looked half-starved or transient.  He owed it all to the kindness of his new friends.  There was, however, still a weight sitting on his shoulders.  He needed to tell them what had happened to him.  As much of it as he could voice, anyway.  Before something happened that put them all at risk.

Especially when they were travelling on such rough terrain.  He knew they had noticed how he wobbled whenever the ground got too unsteady.  He was also sure that they had got a glimpse or two of his scars as well.  They were owed at least a small explanation.  He leaned a bit on Pepper as the ground got rockier.  Then, the exact thing he was dreading happened.

His leg gave out and he crashed to the ground.

“Daddy!”  Beau scrambled off Trinket and rushed over to hug him.  He gathered her into a close hug.

“I’m fine, pup.  It’s okay.”

“Percy, are you alright?” Vex rushed over, helping Percy sit up.  Vax watched with solemn, worried eyes as both their ladies fussed over the human.  Percy colored under the deep stare.

“I’m fine.  Just technical issues,” Percy settled Beau next to him, then reached for his boot.  He slid it off and rolled his pants up, revealing the prosthetic for the first time.  It had taken him months to build on the ship and tended to break if he strained it too much.  He sighed.  Shit.  He detached the prosthetic and revealed the stump.  His real leg stopped halfway up his thigh.

“What the fuck, Percival!”  Vax gasped, mouth dropping open.  Percy’s ears flushed.

“I was attacked by a dog.  The injury wasn’t tended to fast enough and gangrene set in.  Not to mention frostbite,” Percy focused on repairing the delicate mechanism that allowed the knee joint to function properly.  He bit his lip, “I was running, escaping from the people who killed my family and stole my home, trying to keep Beau safe.  Tending to a wound was less important.  I just kicked the hound off and kept running.  I don’t-I don’t like talking about it.”

“The bad lady hurt Daddy,” Beau offered, clinging to him, nestling between her father and their dog, “She hurt him and made him have me.  Daddy always tells me that she’s not my mommy and that she’ll never touch me ever.”

“Percy,” Vex whispered, eyes filling with wetness as she settled against his other side.  Her presence was warm and soothing to his frazzled nerves.  Her head settled on his shoulder and her arm went around his back.  His shaking stopped at the comforting weight and he rested his cheek on the dark curls.  Trinket let out a loud chuff and settled behind them so the three could lean into his soft fur.

“Is that even your name?”  Vax asked, dropping down to the ground, offering his waterskin to Beau, “Because I wouldn’t blame you for giving a fake one.”

“My full name is Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III of Whitestone, Percy for short.  Smith was given to me by the people who rescued me, to keep us safe.  They were the ones who healed me and amputated my leg.  Beau was maybe six months old at the time,” he shuddered as he tested the joint then slipped the leg back on, “That’s better.”

“I’m Beauregard Cassandra de Rolo,” Beau added, proudly enunciating every syllable of her name, “Daddy named me after my Aunt Vesper and my Aunt Cass.”

“Vesper Beauregard and Cassandra Johanna,” Percy’s voice broke, “I was the third of seven children.  Now, I’m the only one.  Beau and I are all that’s left of our family.”

“Do you want us to kill them?  Because I would be happy to,” Vax’s eyes narrowed in rage as he gripped his dagger hilt, “Seriously.”

“The Briarwoods are too strong.  They turned or murdered every guard in the city in a night and took complete control.  The four of us…  We can’t take them.  And I won’t risk Beau’s life or future.”

“But if we had the opportunity and a guarantee-“

“Then yes.  I want them dead in the ground before they can hurt anyone else.”

“We can do that.  One day, when we’re stronger and have allies,” Vex squeezed his hand, nestling against his side.  He squeezed back, eyes going a bit wet, turning his face to bury it in her hair.

“Th-thank you.  But only if we’re sure we can make it.  I won’t risk my new family for vengeance, even if the guilt of abandoning my people eats at me every day.  I left my city to save Beau.  Who knows what Anna would have done to her in time,” he blindly reached to pull Beau closer, “It haunts me, but I know that I did the right thing in the long run.”

“Thank you for telling us, darling,” Vex brought his hand to her mouth and brushed a kiss against it, “We-We ran away from our father’s home in Syngorn after years of neglect.  He took us from our mother and we had no choice.  Nothing we did was good enough for him, nothing could overcome the stain of being half human.  He was cold and cruel and let the other elves treat us like shit.  We finally had enough and left.  Our mother died in a dragon attack before we could get home.  We’ve just… Wandered ever since.  I saved Trinket from some poachers who were, well, you saw when we got Pepper.  They threw me in a cage and I killed them before they could follow through on their threats.”

“I joined the Clasp to protect Vex and earn us gold,” Vax shrugged, “If we’re sharing all of our dirty secrets, I’ll share mine.  Some creep wanted Vex and the Clasp was ordered to bring her to him or kill her.  I traded a very, very bad man to them and my life to keep her safe.  They used some sort of freaky magic to change him into her clone and I was branded.  I have never, never regretted that choice.”

“I never knew that,” Vex whispered, softly, eyes bright with tears, “Vax.”

“Stubby, I would do it again.  You didn’t deserve what that freak would do to you.  The man I traded did.”

“We’re an interesting group,” Percy chuckled, pulling out his greatest secret, unwrapping it to show them his weapon.  The design gifted by the Allhammer, “This is to end the Briarwoods.  My god insisted I build it, warned of great danger at Ripley’s hand, insisted that they were going to sweep across the land because of her.  The implications scare me.  It’s so easy to kill with this.”

“May I?” Vax reached out.  Percy settled it into his hand, showing him how to hold it, “It’s heavy.  You pull this thing?”

“Yes.  The hammer.  It ignites the black powder and fires a metal bullet into the target.  Like a sling, but stronger.  More deadly and far easier,” Percy could feel the furrow appearing between his eyebrows as he frowned, “I use my crossbow instead because of how…  Easy it makes death.  It would be too appealing to certain parties.”

“I understand.  It makes a little too much sense to me,” Vax handed the gun back, face solemn, “I can think of several people in the Clasp who would love that kind of power.”

“Exactly,” Percy balanced the pistol in his hands, “I don’t want to give people ideas.  Motivate them to greater levels of destruction.”

“I think you should keep it in reach.  Just in case,” the half-elf looked solemn and serious, eyes hard, “If shit hits the fan, it won’t do us any good in your bag.  Wear it on your hip.”

“Vax has a point, darling,” Vex kissed his cheek, pressing closer.  Percy glanced around at his odd new family.  They were right, even if the idea of carrying the gun openly worried him.  The warm forge in his heart brightened a bit and that was reassuring.  If the Allhammer approved, Percy was not going to argue.  His god had never led him wrong before.  He’d carry the gun, but use it sparingly.

Wouldn’t due to give certain people ideas.