Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Whitestone University felt like Keyleth was stepping into a dream she’d had when she was seventeen years old. 

Oak trees across the campus. Old but pristinely maintained buildings with intricate arches above the doors and towering pillars, leather seated booths in the postgraduate floors of the library, an enormous floor dedicated to archival material, categorised by subjects. Winding corridors she could get lost in, posters documenting previous research and notable alumni lining the walls. An office - hers to share with two other PhD students - on the fourth floor of the vast Biology and Earth Sciences building. Keyleth already knew she was going to spend hours and hours having dragged the chair next to her desk over to the large, ornate framed windows, and foregoing any real work to look out at the city of Whitestone, stretching and sprawling out with humming life and proud grandeur. 

In her dream, she wasn’t wandering the building alone. Her wonder at the seemingly-infinite library was shared; arms brushed hers as she made her way through the building’s foyer towards the student admin offices; she collected her ID card mid-laugh at somebody else’s joke; afterwards, as she made her way through the town centre and attempted to build a map of the cobbled streets in her mind, the blanks of the roads she hadn’t walked and the shops she hadn’t peered into were filled by other people’s mental cartography, a shared wealth of exploration and curiosity that made it all the more exciting. She was tugged into small bakeries and cafés, bustled into bookshops, the magnetic pull of true north being this new, precious freedom two friends in particular had so desperately been searching for, spilling over to her too as they all claimed it with hopeful, grasping hands.

It was still beautiful alone. 

She’d given up her chance to attend university with friends - or rather, with those friends, specifically - when she made the agonising choice to complete her undergraduate and Master’s degrees a world away in Zephrah. They had all planned on leaving Emon, the city that had been home to them all over most (or all) of their lives, and some, of course, were leaving with more desperation than others. The plan - for all of them - had been Whitestone. 

It had been Pike first. Whitestone University’s pre-med programme had caught her eye in their junior year of high school, thereby bringing it onto Keyleth and the others’ radar. Grog had only really thought about following whatever football scholarships came his way, and it had been a wonderful stroke of luck that when offers went out, Whitestone was one with an impressive bid to make. With Pike already having received early acceptance, nobody was surprised when Grog quickly made his choice to follow. That left Keyleth and the twins. The twins, whose only real plan was to run as fast and as far as they could from their father. Keyleth, who had no idea how to imagine life without them. So she had been the one to steadfastly research every detail about the Whitestone University School of Business for Vex, to then fall in love with the Biology and Earth Sciences courses on offer, the research opportunities and career trajectories all over the website that had Keyleth yearning to be there, only to turn around and tentatively show Vax all that bottled up passion in the hopes that those interests the two of them shared might tempt him too. Might persuade him to come with them, rather than run so far that he left the rest of them behind. 

And it worked. They’d all been Whitestone bound. 

Until they weren’t. Until Keyleth wasn’t. 

(Family legacy, her dad had tried to explain. Her mom’s family had been going to Zephrah University for generations - it was tradition, and expectation, a privilege and opportunity to go to a hugely prestigious university that Keyleth’s name had apparently been down for basically since birth, unbeknownst to her. Her mother’s family were expecting it, Korrin had insisted. And Keyleth wouldn’t have cared less about that, if not for his quiet, imploring, “She really would have wanted you to, Keyleth,” that burrowed somewhere within her chest, tugging at the familiar longing and heartache and grief and curiosity of hoping with every part of her that the person she was growing into wouldn’t let her mom down.) 

She didn’t regret it now. Zephrah had given her so much that she’d needed; the chance to find the pieces of her mother she’d spent half her life searching for, to explore a place she barely remembered that was and would always be ingrained deep within her bones, and the chance to get to know her cousins properly, too. She’d make the same choice again if she found herself back at that fork in the road.

It had just demanded that she pack up those dreams of Whitestone and leave them in her childhood bedroom for safekeeping, tucked securely into a cardboard box beneath her bed.

It was years now since her high school friends had all moved here. Undoubtedly, they’d all have left this city long ago; they’d each had their own dreams to pursue that would long since have taken them elsewhere. 

But this could still be a fresh start, and Keyleth was determined for it to be. She’d meet plenty of new friends through the Ecology department, and hopefully more through the Tal’dorei Ecological Association research project she’d been lucky enough to get a place on. Stubbornly resolute as she had always been, Keyleth’s internal mantra the last few weeks had repeatedly been this will be great! with such cheerful pep, it had made her internally wince. Necessary though, with setbacks like losing her dream PhD supervisor, Allura Vysoren, who had been unexpectedly pulled away for research in Marquet. But Keyleth had since been hastily given a replacement supervisor who she was sure would also be great, even if he wasn’t Allura, and she had the kind of scholarship and research funding that was once in a lifetime for PhD students. And above all else, she was here. At the university that had sparked her dreams for this kind of work, in the city that looked just like it had in the pictures she’d first seen all those years ago.

Excitement and anticipation had been humming lighty beneath her skin since the moment she’d stepped off the plane and collected the two large suitcases she’d packed the last six years of her life into from the baggage carousel in Whitestone Airport. It only intensified now, feeling a little more like bees buzzing in her veins with a thrumming, anxious impatience as she followed her new supervisor - a junior lecturer called Stephen Keriyk, who, if she was being completely honest, she was yet to make her mind up about - and her two office-mates down a second floor corridor, past one of the entrances to the library and a small computer lab. The plush red carpet that lined the hallway muffled their steps beneath their feet. 

The place was almost deserted, besides them; term hadn’t officially started. The meeting they were headed to was off the books, holding no weight other than getting the ecology PhD students together before everybody began drowning in the stress of research proposals and literature reviews. It also gave Keyleth a chance to scope out the other students who’d been selected for the Tal’dorei Ecological project, which she was still a little nervous to be a part of. 

Her anticipation mingled with apprehension as Stephen slowed, then turned to push open a heavy, dark oak door. Instantly, mid-afternoon sunlight poured out, catching on the door’s varnish and causing the wood to glow. The beam sliced up Keyleth’s hand, then her forearm, and she found her gaze inexplicably drawn to the warmth of it, momentarily distracted from what awaited a few steps in front of her. When she looked back up, she caught the eye of the student to her left, who exchanged a small smile with her, his teeth caught on his lower lip, a glint of anxious excitement in his eye. Keyleth couldn’t help but return his smile. There was a little girl somewhere deep inside of her, building houses for worms in the garden, who would never in a million years have believed she’d end up here.

Stephen stepped into the room, followed by the others, and Keyleth paused for a brief moment, her palm flat against the wood.

Her mother was waiting, when she closed her eyes. Knelt on the grass in their garden in Emon, her hair caught in the same sun, fire-bright and glowing. The sleeves of the old sweater she was wearing pushed up to her elbows, mud streaking her forearms, her hands on top of Keyleth’s much smaller ones as they pressed compost around plant stems, taking care not to jostle them. Vilya reached for a small watering can but laughed, softly, upon finding a rare, iridescent beetle crawling across the handle, and held out a hand so it could crawl on her finger.

PhD, Habitat Conservation, it said on Keyleth’s office door.

She exhaled carefully, and stepped forwards.

It was larger than she expected, inside. Like almost every university office she’d ever been in, the walls were lined with bookshelves which held beautifully bound books and academic texts, along with vast collections of journals and an abundance of trinkets. At a small table on the left hand side of the room, two students sat with an older woman Keyleth had been introduced to a few days prior, a lecturer who specialised in microbial ecology. They seemed deep in conversation, so Keyleth let her gaze to wander across the art on the walls and over to the window, noting the knick-knacks on the windowsill, the ‘neck deep in research for years’ clutter piled up alongside them, familiar from the organised chaos of her Master’s supervisor’s office in Zephrah. The girl leaning against the windowsill gave Keyleth a smile. The sun highlighted lighter streaks in her wavy brown hair, cut to just beneath her chin, and behind her thin-framed glasses, her eyes were warm, and excited. 

To her left, a guy with short, curly hair gave Keyleth a nod of recognition - he’d been picking up his office key, the same day she’d come to collect hers.

And in front of the desk -

Keyleth stopped short, her scan of the room coming to a skidding halt. Her heart made a frantic leap up towards her throat. 

She blinked, somewhat expecting the impossible sight in front of her to waver in the thick, summer heat of the office, but everything stayed as it was: a little sun-hazy, the noise of the chatter making her ears ring even as her heart hammered louder than anything against her ribs. A breeze from the open window brushed across her skin, too hot and too cold all at once, and the hairs on Keyleth’s forearms prickled. 

His head was tilted away from her, and he was deep in conversation with the woman behind the desk. It could have been anyone. Should have been anyone. Years had passed since the last time Keyleth had found dark hair at the corner of her vision and snapped her head around, somewhere between hopeful and terrified, foolishly expecting something she’d known with a sinking feeling in her stomach that she wouldn’t find. But as the air of the office grew thicker, as she was jostled by another student brushing past her to duck into the corridor, as that long-forgotten lurch of exhilarated fear lanced through her fingertips and made her fingertips feel numb, she shifted her gaze from the braided half-up half-down hairstyle she could see and across the figure’s jawline, the curve of his ear, his olive skin, tanned darker by the summer sun, and she knew.

She knew. Before he looked up to survey the new people who’d walked in, before his eyes fell on her as though drawn to her by a magnetic pull, then widened with shock, before he turned -

But then he did , and -

Keyleth’s breath left her in a rush as she stared at a face she could have drawn with her eyes closed, etched into her memory with such crystal clarity. The crooked curve of his smile, the dark sparkle of his eyes, the tiny birthmark almost hidden in the shadow of his bottom lip. The creases of his eyes. The thrum of Keyleth’s pulse slowed as time reached a standstill, six years hanging in the air whilst she took in every detail of his face over and over, the familiar and the changed intricacies that tugged at her heart in equal measure, breath trapped in her chest and unsure where to go.

Vax stared at her. 

She watched hazel eyes flood with disbelief that she was certain matched her own, and his head shook, slightly, as if she was a dream he could dislodge, rather than flesh and blood and a pounding, treacherous heart.

“What the fuck,” Keyleth said. Too loud, because despite the chatter and conversation, only a handful of people were in the office. 

Silence fell in a domino-like hush across the room. 

It was the snort of laughter from beside her that dragged her back to the present, time slamming back into itself, speeding up like a jam in the cassette tape now smoothed out, the world in a rush to catch her back up. Mortification swallowed her when she caught sight of Stephen’s disapprovingly raised eyebrow and the rest of the room’s stares. Heat began to flood to her cheeks, patchy and uncomfortable on the surface of her skin, but the corner of Vax’s lips quirked and the embarrassment mellowed a little at the sight of his fondness, his joy, his smile that seemed to creep wider when her flush spread to the tips of her ears. 

“Sorry,” she said, the words coming out a little horse and scrambled, “I didn’t mean - it’s just -”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip, and she deliberately steadied herself, forcing her racing pulse to slow. 

Breathe, Keyleth. (As it had for the past six years, that soft, steadying voice in her head was her mother’s. Kind but firm. Full of faith.) Take a breath. 

Keyleth did. When she spoke again, it was softer and more measured, though she couldn’t hide the ever so slight edge of uneasy apprehension from the marked edges of his name. “Hi, Vax.”

His smile remained, the shock in his eyes melting, just a little. “Hi,” he said, even softer than her. The shape of the word, the curve of his accent in it, felt the whispered breeze of a memory.

“You two know each other?” The woman behind Vax - presumably his supervisor, Keyleth now realised - shifted, the amused expression on her face morphing into surprise as she looked between them. Vax cleared his throat slightly. His eyes didn’t leave hers, but they were difficult to read as they skimmed her expression, indecipherable to her perhaps for the first time in all the years she’d known him.

A hysterical, wildly out of place laugh bubbled up in her throat, but she swallowed it down before it could betray them both. 

Knew each other. That was one way of putting it. 

The last time she’d seen him, he’d been sprawled out among tangled bedsheets, skin glowing in the early-morning sunlight that illuminated his teenage bedroom, marks she’d made on his skin the night before trailing down his neck, across his collarbone -

And then she’d left, with tears choked in her throat and brimming behind her eyes, while he was still soundly asleep. Creeping through the eerie quiet of the Vessar house without the goodbye she’d promised him and -

“We were friends in high school,” Vax answered quietly, the words far more casual as they left his mouth than Keyleth would’ve had any hope of making them. 

Understatement of the century. But… it was the truth. That was all they had been, all the way until that last night before she left for Zephrah, when the what ifs and maybes had caught up with them in a rush and her lips had ended up on his, that vast, lonely house he and Vex had never truly called home empty that night aside from the two of them, just for that one last evening, with Vex and Syldor both away. Her tearful goodbyes to Vex, and Pike, and Grog had already been said. It was always planned that she would sleep over, so Vax could drive her to the airport early the next morning - but sleep over , not sleep with him . And certainly not slip away instead of waking him, as the sun crept over the horizon . 

Keyleth’s stomach fluttered as nerves made another vicious reappearance, but while Vax’s expression was still guarded, his eyes, despite every reason to not be, were so wonderfully warm.

He smiled, and hesitantly, Keyleth returned it.

The moment melted away as other introductions overtook the conversation, but the weight of Vax’s gaze on her remained, even as she greeted other students, introduced the research her PhD would focus on, and  tried as hard as she could to pay attention as others did the same. When the group migrated into a conference room across the hallway to discuss the Ecological Association project, Vax’s hand hovered just behind her back for a handful of seconds as he followed her out of the door. Her heart thumped traitorously in her chest, a little painful as though its muscle was remembering the action of being this close to him, that faint memory of loving him still in the twinge of her chest and the hum of the blood in her veins. She hung back in the hallway to let others pass them. 

“It’s good to see you,” she whispered, and Vax’s exhale wouldn’t have been audible if he hadn’t been so close. 

“You too, Keyleth,” he whispered back, his smile soft in every way she didn’t deserve. The words were nothing less than genuine, and despite the years that had passed, despite the questions and hurt and betrayal and loss she knew she’d left in her wake as she ran away from him in the way she’d always begged him not to do to her, despite everything , she allowed herself to believe him. 

“ So ,” Vax said as they walked out of the front exit and across the courtyard, his eyes bright with a delight that was as infectious as it always had been, “tell me about Zephrah. Seriously, tell me everything. And how the hell you wound up here , after all this time - what did you end up doing your Master’s thesis on? You weren’t even sure you’d do well enough to do a Master’s when you left, now look at you! And your family, you have to tell me about them, what were they like -”

Away from the eyes and attention and respectability of their PhD cohort and the prestigious project they were both saddled with, it was like Vax had come alive in a whole new way. The warm end-of-summer sun illuminated the carved stone of the beautiful old building that Biology and Earth Sciences shared as they left it behind them, and questions bubbled out of him, rapid fire. He turned, a couple of paces in front of her, walking backwards to keep in step with her. It felt oddly like being fourteen. Needing a friend who understood the things going on in her life and Vax materialising at her side, insistent.

In the six years she’d been away, she thought she’d managed to smother the bone-deep ache that came from leaving the first and best friends she’d ever had behind, but with Vax standing in front of her again and the distance melting so easily away, it was quickly becoming evident that she’d been fooling herself. She couldn’t help her smile growing, spreading across her cheeks to match his. “Coffee?” she asked, and his intensity quickly softened, recognising her slight fumbling like it was as easy as breathing. 

“Coffee,” he agreed, a reassurance and a slight apology for the barrage of questions rolled into the gentleness of it.

He led her out of the gates and over to one of the coffee shops across the road. In a few weeks, it would be unbearable, swamped with freshmen along with every other inch of the campus, but for now it was blissfully empty aside from a lone, dishevelled looking grad student. Keyleth eyed them with sympathy. She had no doubt that within the next six months, she’d find herself in the same position. 

It didn’t surprise her when Vax gave the barista behind the counter a quick wave, then hesitated, turning back to her. The spark in his eyes was mischievous, a little teasing and Keyleth’s stomach flipped. “You’re not still pretending you like black coffee, are you?” he asked with a warm smirk.

She flushed, a patchy pink heat over her cheeks all the way up to the tips of her ears, similar to her mortification earlier, but this time, it felt sweet. Familiar. She couldn’t help but laugh as an unbidden memory floated to the forefront of her mind; she remembered with unexpected fondness the awed kid she’d once been, all freckles and frizzy hair, swallowing down scalding hot, bitter mouthfuls in the hope that Vax’s wonderful, beautiful, terrifying twin sister would think she was cool. 

“Ha,” she said, trying for reproachful but only really managing sheepish and amused. “Yeah, uh … no. That was a short lived endeavour.”

Vax chuckled. “Oat flat white?” he guessed in lieu of further teasing.

“With vanilla,” Keyleth added, and Vax turned back to the counter and ordered for them both, then picked a table over by the window. He existed in this space with the ease of someone for whom the cracks in the floor tiles, the give of the booth seats, and knowledge of when the sun would pour through which windows, was all instinctive, woven into Vax’s tangled web of six years in this place that Keyleth had only ever imagined all this time. Imagined him in all this time. Even in these small minutes they’d spent alone, it was easy to see that the university buildings and the roads beyond them were as familiar to him as breathing, and that the winding streets of this city had become his home.  

She remembered, back in Zephrah, when her Master’s supervisor had sent through all the best choices for where to apply for her PhD, the physical tug in her chest she’d felt seeing Whitestone University on the list. For the first time in so, so long, she’d indulged herself in that same, far away imagining, the longing, the traitorously hopeful part of her heart wishing and wondering and wanting that dream from long ago. But somewhere between wishing for it and wanting it came the realisation that if he was still here, that meant seeing him, and perhaps worse, facing up to the last time she’d seen him, so she’d quickly, determinedly pushed all that aside. 

In 500 words, provide a preliminary abstract for your proposed PhD thesis - and Keyleth had answered while telling herself, over and over again, that there was no reason any of them would still be in Whitestone. Vex and Vax had wanted to finish their degrees and travel the world together. Pike could’ve gotten into any med school she put her mind to, and there were countless better than Whitestone. Grog was probably playing for the NFL by now. 

In less than 300 words, please tell us why you have chosen to apply to the Whitestone University - and Keyleth didn’t write ‘because coming here was what I thought my life would look like when I was sixteen and in love with my best friend and maybe I don’t want to come here after all because I’m afraid that it won’t be anything like I’d imagined.’ 

But it was, in the end. 

Because the dark, rich brown of the faded leather booth seats covered in dappled, mid morning sunlight made Vax’s eyes glow, intoxicatingly warm. 

“I really didn’t think any of you would be here,” Keyleth confessed. “Maybe it’s stupid, but -” She blew a small strand of hair out of her eyes. “I don’t know.” 

“It’s not stupid,” Vax said. “I don’t think any of us would’ve thought back then that we’d still be here. But we met people here who became family, and the house we moved into - seriously, Keyleth, you’d love it.” Vax leaned forward, forearms resting on one of the sunny spots on the table. The light caught on the glass face of his watch, casting a flickering rainbow onto the ceiling up above them. “Pike got a place in med school when I started my Master’s.” He must’ve seen the surprise on her face because he added, “There were better programmes elsewhere but this was still the closest she’d be to Wilhand and Grog. She’d never admit it but I don’t think she wanted to leave Scanlan either.” 

“Scanlan?” asked Keyleth, the name unfamiliar on her tongue. Her eyebrow arching of its own accord. “Get out. Does Pike have a boyfriend?” 

A sharp, unexpected laugh escaped from the back of Vax’s throat, although the rough edges were softened by an undercurrent of warmth. When he pinched the bridge of his nose, it was with something akin to fond exasperation. “Now that’s the question. No, she doesn’t. She and Scanlan are … Well, it’s this whole thing - you’ll get it when you meet him, trust me.” 

When you meet him. Keyleth tried not to flush again at the certainty of it, the promise. “And Grog’s not playing football?” 

“Nah, he had a bad injury in senior year. Pretty much decided that he wouldn’t be going for a professional career.” 

“Shit, really?” Keyleth’s eyes went wide. 

Vax nodded with a grimace. “He was pretty cut up for a bit. But he’s okay now - coaches a team with this development programme for kids from rougher neighbourhoods, and works security jobs to cover costs.” 

Keyleth nodded, slowly letting the information settle, readjust the image she had of all these people in her head. “If you’re here, then I guess Vex …?” 

“Kicking ass,” said Vax as an answer, his voice drenched in a familiar kind of pride that made Keyleth’s chest ache. “She studied politics and economics in the end, the second of which is the dullest thing in the world to me, but you know Vex. She’s a genius with numbers. She’s working for a company whose clients are predominantly aid organisations and charities. She deals with a lot of the accounts when it comes to distributing funds for various causes and the like. It’s amazing, she’s gotten to go on some crazy trips for work to see the other end of it all, how the money is being used to rebuild countries after war and stuff.” 

“Wow,” Keyleth breathed. She couldn’t help but laugh, nothing more really than a puff of air. Vax gave her an inquisitive look. “I mean, yeah - yeah , it’s amazing! But also, of course that’s what she’s doing. I can’t imagine her doing anything else.” 

“I know,” said Vax. “Me neither. And yeah, she’s here. Whitestone has one of the company’s biggest branches.” And she wouldn’t have left while you were still here , Keyleth thought, although there was no need to voice the sentiment - it went without saying. “I’m the only one insane enough to chase a PhD though,” Vax continued, a wry but not at all insincere smile twisting his lips upward. Keyleth half-hummed, half-laughed, both sounds of agreed resignation while trying not to think about the fact that she didn’t count - she wasn’t one of them anymore. But Vax caught it - at least, caught her agreement - and tilted his head with a smile of acknowledgement. “Not the only one,” he corrected and fucking hell, Keyleth’s neck was hot again. “You’ll see what Whitestone was like for us in time, it barely changes. I’m more interested in what you’ve been up to Ki-” His mouth closed abruptly, his first real hesitance in this whole conversation. The heat on Keyleth’s cheeks sank through her skin, weighed down and down until it became a burning inferno in her chest. Kiki. 

She let the fire rage in her chest, all consuming. She took a breath, which of course only stoked the flames, but she’d learned a lot about being angry - holding anger, whether at herself, the world - in the last six years. And Vax so, so rarely deserved her anger. 

What he did deserve were answers. 

So it all came spilling out in an effortless way that, if she’d been asked a few days ago, she never would have expected.

She should have. Because despite the years of distance between them, he was the same person who’d sat with his chin on his arm peering at her laptop screen as she scrolled through images of the University of Zephrah’s campus, the one who’d encouraged her to go chase the pieces of her mother she desperately wanted to find despite how much her flying off to study so far away would sting. The one who’d stayed late in their school library and flicked through course options with her, weighing up botany vs plant physiology vs pure biology. 

Warmth spread through her chest as she tucked one knee up onto her chair and told him about the cousins she now knew well, about falling in love with the mountains and the way the wind floated across the cliffs, about studying beneath cherry trees and her botany degree gradually leaning more and more into environmental science and conservation, about finishing her Master’s and seeing a PhD position open here for habitat preservation research and jumping at the opportunity.

Something complicated crossed his expression for the briefest of moments, but disappeared before she could grasp hold of it. 

“What about you?” she asked impulsively, searching for more than he’d already given her, despite how little she deserved it. Tell me everything, she wanted to beg. Every detail. She couldn’t, though - she didn’t know where the lines were, in this coffee shop that was his far more than it would ever be hers. How much could she ask someone whose childhood was woven into her bones alongside her own, but who she’d left without saying goodbye to? 

“And - and Vex and the others?” she added hastily, as if it could cover up the yearning her previous question held. But her tongue betrayed her for a second time, unable to pause when she intended it to, instead curling carefully around a third question before her nerves could stop it; the one she wanted the answer to most of all. “Are you happy here?” 

It was too sincere, too quiet, for a sunny café and a regular Monday afternoon. For the first time since she’d walked into his supervisor’s office, that six year distance felt cavernous.

Keyleth watched dust flicker in the sunlight as it drifted down towards the floor, her breath caught in her lungs, until Vax’s expression flickered and softened, eyes impossibly fond. His foot lightly nudged hers beneath the table, silently acknowledging the life he and Vex had been on the verge of leaving in their rearview mirror last time Keyleth had seen them, and the world that’d been at the tips of their fingers. “Yes,” he told her, steady and certain in every way she’d wanted for him back then. 

He matched her sincerity, until the moment was broken by his crooked smile.

In exchange for her updates, he told her about the friends they had made in undergrad who now lived with them too: bright-eyed Percy who’d studied engineering, and Scanlan, a musician bursting with talent, still finding his way into the scene. More names followed - Gilmore, Kash, Zahra - a whole family he and Vex had clearly built from the ground up and adored with every inch of their being. 

“You’ll meet them,” he told her, as if it was a given that her presence in Whitestone was enough to warrant an introduction to these new people he held dear. As if any of these people would even like her, given what they’d inevitably heard.

Vax didn’t seem to notice her hesitance - either that, or he simply did her the service of brushing past it. She was grateful for it, because he continued on with stories that gave her a shape of these new friends’ character, and of the life he, Vex, Grog and Pike had been leading. Prank wars between him and Grog that had escalated since their high school days, nights out where they’d lost half the group and then been kicked out of three bars in quick succession, the Sunday morning family pancake routine Pike had instigated when she, Grog, the twins, Percy, and Scanlan had all moved in together. Standing in the pouring rain watching Grog’s football matches in first year, just like they had in high school but under brighter lights, and this time, with their own cheers accompanied by the roar of a crowd. Vex getting her first paycheck from her full-time job and taking him out to dinner, to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant where spices lingered in the air.

He handed six years worth of life over to her in his open palms. 

Keyleth wasn’t naive enough to assume the stories she was offered were given thoughtlessly. Despite how easily they fell from Vax’s tongue, the occasional pauses gave him away, subtle moments where she could see him considering the depth to go into, or measuring up his words. It was to be expected. She didn’t know what hurt more - the thought that he could read her desperation for any scraps he was willing to give her, or the thought of him not being able to read her the way he used to, but offering these stories up anyway.

Even so, more than anything, it was a relief to hear the life that poured through every crack in Vax’s stories and pooled on the table between them, the warmth and the homeliness that the lives he and Vex left behind in Syngorn had lacked. 

And underneath it all, despite the subtle hesitation, she could feel Vax’s ease - the trust that he extended to her as if she’d never broken it, the way he treated the lives of his friends as the lives of her friends even though she wasn’t certain herself whether she still had the right to consider them as such. 

The flickers of fear she’d had to convince herself out of before moving here seemed unwarranted.

Vax finished telling a story about him and Vex carrying two bookcases across the city, trying valiantly to convince the bus driver to let them on, but failing miserably. “Vex was glaring daggers at him,” he told her, unable to hide his fond grin. “We could have just abandoned them, but we found them outside a house for free and they were such good quality - god knows we didn’t have the money to buy our own -”

“Don’t,” Keyleth grimaced, torn from her reverie by the harsh reminder that she was about to be in the same position, having to source furniture for a room on her small summer-job-savings-and-PhD-bursary budget. That was, if she could even find somewhere to rent.

Vax’s expression turned sympathetic. “You’ve just done the same?” he guessed, but Keyleth shook her head.

“Not yet. I’m in temporary postgrad accommodation. Just for a week or two, hopefully - I’m still looking for somewhere to stay. But when I do find somewhere, that’ll be me, trying my hardest to convince bus drivers to let me bring furniture on with me.”

“They’re not a fan of it.”

Keyleth hummed a vague acknowledgement. 

The University of Zephrah offered accommodation to anyone who requested it, despite its small size. Unlike in Whitestone, each student received a room of their own, already furnished with a bed, desk, bedside table and wardrobe, for as long as they wished to keep it. She’d only had two rooms - one for her undergrad and a different one for her Master’s, because she’d moved to be on the same floor as a friend, and she’d loved both of them for their wide windows and beautiful views, their slightly-worn appearance that told of previous lives lived within those walls - and for their convenience, too. Which she told Vax, when he asked, because somehow he seemed to remember conversations they’d had about applying for university accommodation, over half a decade ago. 

This time around though, she’d have to do things the hard way.

“Trying to take furniture on public transport in your twenties is a right of passage,” Vax told her, and when she ran her fingers through her hair, he shot her a familiar, boyish grin. “Plus, I’d help,” he added. Despite the house hunting misery she was embroiled in, there was that permanence that had her chest tightening; again, it assumed Vax would be in her life going forwards, not just for the afternoon.

Keyleth curled her hands around her now-cool coffee and took a slow sip, then swirled the dregs around, momentarily distracted by the wish that she was someone who could look at what remained at the bottom of the mug and let it tell her everything would be okay.

“Not that it looks like I’ll find anywhere,” she said dismally. “It’s too late - I couldn’t view anywhere while I was in Zephrah, but it seems like most postgrads sorted out where they were staying months ago. Rent’s too high to get a place by myself, but I don’t know anyone, and all the rooms I see advertised are either with complete weirdos, or have been taken by the time I enquire.”

Vax’s eyebrows curved down into a thoughtful frown.

“University accommodation wouldn’t be too bad,” Keyleth added, unconvincingly. The postgrad block she’d been put in was mostly Master’s students a few years younger than her, but it’d do if it was her only option.

Vax shook his head, the thoughtful expression still on his face, but nothing could have prepared her for his simple, but deliberate, “Come live with us.”

Her eyebrows shot up of their own accord, and Vax held her gaze boldly, unapologetically. 

Keyleth set her coffee back down on the table. “Live with you,” she repeated, hoping it didn’t land too flat, or too incredulous, as Vax looked at her like it was the simplest solution in the world. 

“What?” he said with a shrug

“ Vax .”

“We have a spare room,” he added, as though that was what had made her hesitate, rather than that fact that she’d left six years ago with the bittersweet taste of his lips on hers and hadn’t explained herself or seen him or any of the others since. As though she’d stayed in contact with them and been the wonderful friend they all expected her to be, rather than disappearing from their lives because it hurt far too much to see them move on without her.

The deep brown eyes that looked so carefully back to her were exactly as reassuring as she remembered every time she’d needed them to be years ago, somehow managing to settle the flutter of nerves in the pit of her stomach. 

Maybe, if this wasn’t the first time they’d had a proper conversation since they were eighteen, she would have seen it coming, in the familiar shape of his mouth as it moved, or in the warmth of his expression, tinged with a knowing sadness that he seemed to have kept at bay until now.

“Kiki.”

It was as soft as a breath of air. Rolling off his tongue as easily as it ever had.

(Every day, casually, teasingly. Petulant and drawn out when she covered the answers of their bio homework from him at their lunch table, accompanied by pitiful pleading eyes until she gave in. Quietly when it was just the two of them and the world twisted around them, one or both of them reaching for the other. The night before she left - whispered against sun-kissed skin as fingers trailed across her freckles and lips followed, both of them seemingly unable to let each other go.)

Keyleth swallowed down memories of her fingers combing slowly through Vax’s hair as he slept the morning afterwards. Peaceful, in a way that was so hard to come by back then. Dark eyelashes stark against his pale cheekbones. Her thumb tracing the curve of his jaw as she stole a moment to say goodbye in - a luxury she didn’t extend to him.

Vax’s expression flickered again. “I’m not - it’s okay. I mean, if it is to you, it’s been six years and I… we’re good. We’re good, right?”

“We are?” 

It was far too rushed to disguise the desperation trapped within, and Vax’s fingers shifted where they rested against the table, before curling into themselves.

“ I am,” he told her, quiet, but firm.

His gaze didn’t leave hers for a second, and it made him easy to believe. “Me too,” Keyleth told him. Heat crept across the back of her neck and she tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, tongue feeling thick and uncoordinated in her mouth. “Okay. Good. That’s good.”

Vax visibly fought back a smile, and Keyleth felt the tips of her ears flush too (for the third time today), but he didn’t comment on it, just nudged her ankle with his own again under the table and gave her an imploring look. “At the very least, come say hi. No one will forgive me if I go home and tell them you’re back in Whitestone and I didn’t give them chance to see you too.”

Uncertainty returned in full force, but Vax’s ankle bumped into hers for a second time under the table, warm and reassuring in the exact way he’d been to her all afternoon, since the moment his eyes had first landed on her in his supervisor’s office, hours and what already felt like lifetimes ago.

 “C’mon,” he told her, twirling his keys easily around his finger. “We missed you.”

We . Not I, but we - and that was what did it. Warmth curled around Keyleth’s chest as she thought of Vex’s smile, the warmth that had always been imbued in Pike’s hugs, and the delight she could so easily imagine lighting up Grog’s face at the sight of her. 

“Okay,” she agreed, causing Vax to grin brightly at her. He pushed himself up from the table and sunlight caught on the spark of delight in his eyes. His excitement was infectious, the way it always had been, and for what felt like the hundredth time today, Keyleth found herself returning his grin with unexpected ease and warmth. She took a breath, then exhaled. “Lead the way.”

Chapter Text

The house Vax led her to sat a little way back from the road, the three stories that belonged to it stretching up above her in cool grey stone, which matched the majority of the houses they’d walked past on their way here. It was taller than the houses surrounding it, and was clearly old, like so much of this city seemed to be. But loved, rather than tired.

The ground and first floor bedrooms had beautiful bay windows, partially obscured by the large tree next to the fence that split the left side of the property from the neighbours’. The leaves were just beginning to show hints of orange. Wisteria crept up the wall and across the porch, gradually making its way across the top of the lower bay, just like the one that spread across the front of her aunt and uncle’s house in Zephrah. Keyleth followed the winding vines with curious, awed eyes, the branches hugging window ledges of rooms she couldn’t see into but desperately wanted to, just as she wanted to know the lives lived inside, the ones she had missed like a hole in her heart. In late spring, when drooping flowers appeared, it would be a stunning array of lavender and lilac hues. Keyleth desperately hoped she’d get to see them.

To the right hand side of the house sat a small alley, presumably leading down to a garden or back entrance, but Vax didn’t lead her there. Instead, he pulled out his keys.

There seemed to be some resistance to the lock - it was an old house, so Keyleth supposed it was to be expected - but in that strange and lovely way in which a place belonged to its people as much as people belonged to it, Vax seemed unfazed, leaning his weight in a little as he jiggled the key, then turned it all the way to the right with a half-creaking, half-groaning click. With it, nerves erupted in Keyleth's stomach, an uncomfortable buzzing that she could almost feel in the tips of her fingers. It felt a little like those days she had far too much coffee. She squeezed her fingers into fists in the pockets of her jacket, taking what was meant to be a calming breath but was a little too quick, too shallow. Vax didn't seem to notice, thankfully, just turning to offer her another warm smile.

“Ready?” he asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be." She wasn't sure if she meant for it to sound sincere or joking, but it somehow landed as neither. A slightly too high-pitched, high-strung laugh bubbled from the back of her throat and she saw the moment Vax's expression shifted as she became entirely transparent. He paused. There was something behind his dark eyes, an odd churning, like a choppy sea, unknowable in its enormity. Keyleth couldn't help but think about whether she would have once been able to interpret the look on his face. 

For a second, it seemed like he might say something, but instead, he just held her gaze with that achingly unreadable expression until he found whatever it was he was looking for.

He pushed open the door.

And instantly, Keyleth was caught off guard by how strongly the house felt like it was theirs . 

The wooden floorboards of the hallway were worn, but polished (mostly) smooth, save for some scratches and scuffs, and a little wear right by the doorway (though that was mostly hidden by a warm-coloured, faded rug).  The hall stretched out in front of them, a staircase against the right wall leading up to the first floor. A slightly wonky bowl of keys sat on a dresser by the door beside a large lamp, and Keyleth couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to trace one finger along the edge of it; she wasn’t sure whose handiwork it was, but the uneven coat of paint and faint wobble on the rim gave the quaint, fond impression it had been homemade.

She found Vax half-leaning against the bannister at the base of the staircase, when she turned away from the bowl and let her hand drop back down to her side. 

Under her breath, so soft that he almost definitely hadn’t heard, Keyleth found a hushed laugh falling from her lips. It tasted incredulous on her tongue, matching the disbelief that briefly superseded the loud buzz of nerves. How far away they’d all ended up from the eighteen year olds in Emon they had once been. And yet, this place, these walls, the smell of the jackets hanging on the coat rack and the domestic mess of the pile of shoes beneath it was so familiar. It felt weighted to add her shoes to the pile, but she did so with little fanfare, worried Vax would find it silly if she said it aloud. (He wouldn’t, she knew that.) Instead, she wordlessly followed him down the hallway, revelling in the intimacy of her socked feet padding through these well-loved, well-lived halls and corners, resisting the urge to peer into every room she saw. 

Vax led her further into the house, then out through an open doorway into the living room, where she pulled up short for a second time. 

It was larger than she'd expected, and curved around the corner to become a somewhat open-plan kitchen, separated from the rest of the room by a breakfast bar. The floor was lined with the same floorboards as the hallway, but two thick rugs covered them, both a deep grey. These rooms, too, felt instantly theirs. She didn’t know what the place had looked like when they’d first moved in, but she was willing to bet it hadn’t been this homely, filled with collections of books and plants, and on the two large sofas, an assortment of brightly coloured cushions and thick throws.

A large set of double doors sat in the centre of the far wall, with vast windows on either side so that the small wooden veranda and well cared for garden could be seen through it. Sunlight streamed through from overhead. 

It was beautiful. All of it. Down to the unwashed coffee mugs from the morning on the side of the sink, to the Whitestone University sweatshirt hung on one of the dining room chairs, to the slippers abandoned under the coffee table. It was a home, beautiful in all its imperfect sprawl of belongings and absent-minded clutter. Perhaps more than anything, it was beautiful in Vax’s ease; if she had thought he was comfortable in the coffee shop, it was nothing compared to this. As he let his bag fall to the floor by the stools at the breakfast bar, draping his jacket in the same place and weaving around the bar to tug open a cupboard door and grab two glasses, Keyleth watched him, a little transfixed. She’d never seen what Vax was like somewhere where he truly felt at home . 

Several sets of footsteps heading down the stairs broke the spell, reigniting the nerves in Keyleth’s stomach with ferocity.

It was the sound of paws, however, that reached her first. Oversized, slightly clumsy paws, nails skittering against the hardwood floor. Keyleth turned, her body reacting before her brain caught up, even as the scratches on the floors suddenly made a whole lot more sense; a familiar wet nose, big floppy ears, warm brown eyes appeared from the hallway. She gasped, dropping to a crouch. “ Trinket !”

He bounded into her arms with a force and strength he’d definitely not had six years ago, almost bowling Keyleth over as he pawed at her legs, sloppily licked her face, yapped and ran circles around her, his tail thumping excitedly on the ground. 

“Easy, Trinket,” said Vax, a stern edge to his voice even as he chuckled. 

“It’s okay,” said Keyleth, taking Trinket’s furry face in her hands and scratching beneath his jaw. He made a pleased little whining noise, trying to burrow into her. “Oh, look at you, you got so big! I missed you, buddy.” 

“I think it’s safe to say he missed you too,” said Vax, a little softer. 

Keyleth swallowed, but wasn’t quite brave enough to look at him, keeping her attention on Trinket who yapped again, nudging his wet nose against Keyleth’s jaw.

He was still barely more than a puppy in her memory, abandoned and bedraggled, his big brown eyes too large for his face as he cowered in a back alley, whimpering. He’d spent some time at her house, before Wilhand volunteered to look after him until the twins were able to, but he’d always been Vex’s, really, from the very first moment she’d laid eyes on him and insisted they take him home. 

She ran her hand through fur that was far thicker and more well-kept than the last time she’d seen it, and from behind Vax came a soft, familiar laugh.

“Should’ve known he’d remember you,” Pike teased lightly.

When Keyleth looked up, she found Pike’s eyes sparkling with delight that just - just - masked a sheen of more fragile emotion. She looked older than she did in Keyleth’s memory - faint laugh lines tugging at the corners of her eyes, her hair longer, blonder. She’d filled out her features, stood with so much more brimming confidence and self assured peace than Keyleth remembered her having at eighteen. She and Pike had shared that in common, back then. Pike glanced from Keyleth to Vax, then back to Keyleth, and something caught in Keylth’s chest as she rose from the floor. Vax seemed like a dream. The house, too, in its way, was too good to be true, something better than she could have even imagined for the people she’d once known. But Pike, somehow, felt more familiar, more real. 

And appearing behind her, broad shouldered and a good foot and a half taller than her, Grog. He too had changed just enough that Keyleth could catch it in a once over. Stubble lined his cheeks and jaw and his hair was buzzed short now. What Vax had told her about his injury was clear in his figure. He’d once just been hard muscle, fit and ridiculously strong, his muscles squeezing the air out of Keyleth every time he’d hugged her, but the years away from intense training had made him ever so slightly softer, less hard lines against fitted t-shirts and more like the big, goofy teddy-bear they’d always teased him to be. (That being said, she had no doubt he could still bench press her without even cracking a sweat if she dared him to.)

The shape and sound and smell of those memories was so vivid, forming a lump in the back of Keyleth’s throat that she forced herself to smile through, small and shy and hopefully less shaky than it felt. “Hi.”

A huff of a disbelieving laugh slipped from Pike’s lips, but it was Grog who guffawed, his own smile entirely unfazed, bright and beaming. “Fuck off , what do you mean hi? Get over here!”

She barely had time to blink before she was enveloped in strong arms, lifted up onto her toes by Grog’s infectious joy as he hugged her. The moment he let go, lighter arms pulled her in immediately, Pike’s hug warm and easy, although far briefer than Keyleth would have liked.

Pike glanced to Vax after pulling away, her smile still in place but something Keyleth couldn’t read in her eyes. “We only just saw your message,” she told him apologetically, although he instantly shook his head to brush it off. He’d texted the house group chat just after they left the coffee shop, asking who was home - but when Keyleth had seen him check his phone a little further into the walk and given him a curious look, he’d shrugged one shoulder and told her the text hadn’t been read. 

(“It’s fine. We’ll find out when we get there,” he’d said easily, and she’d done her best to ignore the way his casual attitude didn’t seem to sit right on his shoulders.)

“It’s just you guys home?” Vax asked now.

“Scanlan too,” Pike said, and he nodded easily. “Just getting out the shower though - he was at the gym.”

Trinket, on cue, let out a low, coarse bark, tugging fond laughter out of Pike and a smile out of Keyleth. Pike dropped to a crouch, scratching the top of Trinket’s head. “And you, I know,” she said teasingly, and the tail that hadn’t stopped wagging since she and Vax walked in increased in speed, thumping against one of Keyleth’s calves. For what felt like the tenth - fiftieth - millionth time in this strange, strange day, Keyleth felt the years she’d been away stretch and pull at her, faced as she was with a level of familiarity she was now an outsider to.

“He’s still gotta be the centre of attention,” Vax chuckled with an eyeroll, tugging back her smile, which had briefly slipped. There was that something in his eyes again as he looked at her - unreadable, but soft, somehow both light and heavy - before he blinked and it was gone.

“So, what, you guys just bumped into each other?” Grog asked, shucking off his hoodie and depositing it messily on the couch cushion, to which Pike tutted and folded it, placing it much more neatly on the armrest. 

Keyleth bit back a fond smile and shifted her attention back to Grog. “I’ve just moved here,” she explained. “I honestly didn’t think any of you guys would still be here, though I was hoping.” 

While she spoke, Grog moved across the living room towards the kitchen and flicked on the kettle, disappearing from view briefly before reappearing with mugs and setting them down on the breakfast bar.

The conversation was diverted, briefly, when a third set of footsteps made their way down the stairs, and an unfamiliar face appeared. A sharp jawline, tan skin, hair damp from the shower. He wore grey sweatpants and a WHITESTONE UNIVERSITY FOOTBALL t-shirt (clearly Grog’s) that had been cropped at the waist and cut at the sleeves. The blue-grey eyes that surveyed her weren’t sharp in a way that cut; instead, they were brimming with curiosity, and Scanlan’s gaze flicked briefly over to Vax as he introduced the two of them, before returning to her with a smile. “ The Keyleth?” he asked, and Grog’s confirmation travelled across the room from the kitchen, where he was pouring just-boiled water into mugs of tea.

“That’s her!” Excitement buzzed in Grog’s voice and that lump was back, making Keyleth want to cry. 

It was easy to see how well Scanlan’s easy energy complemented the rest of this group, as he seamlessly joined the conversation. Vax shifted to perch on the arm of a couch, giving Trinket’s head an absentminded scratch when he plodded over looking for attention, and Scanlan took a seat on the couch beside him, gesturing for Keyleth to sit too as Grog headed back over to them. Sun streamed through the windows, slicing across the hardwood floor and causing the varnish it was finished with to glow a warm orange-brown beneath their feet. Trinket, satisfied at last, took a seat on the floor in front of the couch, sun glinting off his fur as he sank down into the warmth and closed his eyes.

“So,” Pike started, taking a mug from Grog as he handed it to her. “Elaborate. You just moved here?”

“I’m doing a PhD,” Keyleth told her, glancing between her, Grog, and Vax. “Like I said, I was sure all of you would’ve long since left Whitestone.”

Pike hummed. “Yeah, that was the plan back then, wasn’t it? I don’t think we expected to be here this long, honestly. But… well, you’ll see, I think. Whitestone would be hard to let go of. The place and the people.”

Scanlan leant back against the back of the couch, taking a sip of the tea he’d been handed. “What'cha studying?” he asked her, his expression still that knowing, sharp, slightly off-putting-ly observant curiosity, as though he could see things in Keyleth she wasn’t even aware she was putting on display.

“Take a guess,” Vax said dryly, and Pike paused, her mug halfway to her lips. Doubt crossed her expression, but Keyleth watched pieces slowly slot together, almost-forgotten memories dredged up from the corners of her mind. Keyleth could almost hear the gears whirring, as the trail of breadcrumbs was followed. But it was Grog, not Pike, whose short, sharp laugh reached her ears.

“No fuckin’ way,” he said, looking between the two of them. Vax tilted his head, and the laugh came again, this time accompanied by a shake of his head.

Scanlan’s surprise seemed to quickly mellow into warmth as he exchanged a split second glance with Pike, whose eyebrows had crept halfway up her forehead in disbelief. “Also Ecology?” he guessed, not that it really needed to be said by then, and Vax huffed a humour-filled exhale as confirmation. This time, in the split second where his eyes met hers, Keyleth found something she could read: a shared, fond mirth. 

Keyleth hummed an agreement.

“Imagine my surprise when she just walked into Lieve’tel’s office for that Tal’dorei Ecological meeting,” Vax said, still sounding a little incredulous. He paused, a spark of boyish mischief that Keyleth recognised all too well crossing his face, his lips twitching upwards. “Although, at least I didn’t immediately swear in front of a roomful of academics I want to impress.” 

Keyleth groaned, her cheeks flushing as the mortification she’d felt earlier came rushing back unapologetically, the memory of locking eyes with Vax reappearing at full force now that she’d gotten over her initial shock of seeing him. “Don’t,” she said pitifully, as he recounted the tale to the others, and Vax’s teasing smile spread into a full grin. “That is not the introduction I was aiming for. And everyone was there, all those staff members involved in the project, and I already think my supervisor thinks I’m a ditz -”

“Well then, he’s an idiot,” said Grog and Keyleth’s chest felt as warm as the floorboards beneath her feet at the protective fierceness in his tone.

“Keyleth,” Vax said warmly, more sincerely, his eyes softening. “It’s fine. I guarantee you they’ve heard much worse.”

“Vax has always said the Ecology professors are cool,” Scanlan confirmed, and Keyleth grimaced.

“Maybe, if they already know you.”

“Lieve’tel - Professor Tolousse - liked you, I could tell,” promised Vax. “The other staff will too, and I mean - it was a pretty good icebreaker, so there’s that, at least?”

“Let’s talk about literally anything else,” she begged, wincing every time a new, embarrassing facet of the afternoon decided to highlight terrible details. Thankfully, Pike took mercy on her and shifted the conversation away from university and back to her move.

Just like with Vax, it was far easier than Keyleth expected to follow the thread of conversation she was led down. She wasn’t sure why it surprised her; she’d known everyone - except Scanlan - for as long as she’d been away from them, longer in Pike’s case. Even with all this time and distance apart, they were woven into the lines of each other’s skin, in the scars and freckles, the smile lines and the way they all did their hair and makeup. Pike still had that little flick in her eyeliner that she, Vex, and Keyleth had spent weeks trying to perfect at fifteen. Vax still braided his hair the way Keyleth had taught him to. Grog still wore the fidget ring on his index finger that Keyleth had gifted him for his sixteenth birthday to help him pay attention in class. 

Time slipped away as Keyleth sat in the sunny living room, sipping rapidly-cooling peppermint tea, hearing more details about the lives that had been lived in her absence and the people her friends had grown into. Small flecks of dust drifted through sunbeams as Grog talked proudly about the football team he was working with, made up of underprivileged kids from the neighbourhood, all of whom where growing better and better each day and had been so filled with pride the week before when they’d been gifted end-of-summer football jerseys, their names emblazoned on the back of them. (Keyleth’s heart swelled when Pike pointed out that Grog had paid for the jerseys out of his own pocket, and Grog made an absentminded so what? motion with his hand, even as Keyleth and Pike exchanged small smiles.) 

It felt like a blink of an eye later that the sound of another key jiggling in the front door lock reached all of them. Trinket’s ears pricked up. He paused to listen just for a moment longer, but the moment the latch clicked and the door opened he was off, bounding out into the hallway before the door could even click closed, paws clattering again against the hardwood floor.

The thunk of shoes being kicked off followed, accompanied by a fond kind of laughter that Keyleth remembered with vivid, radiant clarity. (Vex, crouched on Keyleth’s dad’s bathroom floor with an armful of wet puppy, the bathroom in an atrocious state after Trinket had jumped out of the bathtub. Lying on the floor in the living room with a puppy insistently licking her face clean, later, on that very first night with him, after Korrin had taken a look at three sopping wet, abashed teenagers, and with a sigh that poorly hid amusement had agreed that Trinket could stay with him and Keyleth for now.) 

“What’s gotten into you, boy?” Vex murmured, her voice growing closer, but Trinket’s gruff back-of-the-throat woof was the only answer she received.

Nerves that had been mostly quenched by the warm welcome from Pike, Grog, and Scanlan reignited within Keyleth’s chest, flickering embers that threatened to grow into a roaring inferno. Because everyone else might have been softened by these years, by this new place that had lovingly shaped them into people beyond their wildest dreams, but Vex - 

Vex was Vex . 

Even if she could’ve forgiven Keyleth for leaving, for making the painfully deliberate choice not to stay in touch, Keyleth knew she would still find herself on the edge of an enormous chasm in which Vex would be standing firmly on the other side. Because in the space between them was Vax, just as he had always been, and if Keyleth knew anything it was that there was no one in the world Vex kept closer, or worked harder to protect.

“Clearly, he’s excited to see me,” said another voice from the hallway, mirthful. Masculine, clipped. It sounded like what Keyleth had already picked up as one of the native Whitestone accents. 

“Oh, of course,” said Vex with a snort. “Because you’re the one who spoils him by feeding him under the damn table and letting him sleep on your bed.” Her laughter was light, unburdened in a way Keyleth couldn’t remember it ever having been before. “At this rate, the poor boy’s going to be put on a diet and I’m the one he’ll be mad at when he doesn’t get treats anymore.” 

“I’ll take him on some runs.” 

“Will you now? Tell me, Percival, when was the last time you went for a run?” 

“Excuse you -” 

Two figures finally reached the doorway. An unfamiliar man ahead, and the barest glimpse of Vex’s familiar braid, the identical slope of her jaw caught by a tiny ray of sun breaking up the shadow of the hall. 

The man’s hair was shockingly white and his sharp features were softened slightly by round, silver framed glasses. He was tall, dressed in very office-appropriate navy trousers and a crisp, white button up, though the top two buttons had been undone and his sleeves cuffed to the elbow. He had a leather shoulder bag hanging off one arm and a suit jacket in the same hand, pausing in the motion of going to deposit his things by the breakfast bar when he saw the cluster of people in the living room. 

Keyleth quickly stood.

She wasn’t sure whether Percival - clearly the Percy Vax had told her about - had any inclination as to who she was, but his eyes widened a little when he saw her, quickly glancing over his shoulder to where Vex was shuffling into the room, very much still encumbered by Trinket looping circles around her legs. 

“Good grief, Trink, let me walk -” Gaze fixed on trying not to trip on her very excitable dog, Vex walked straight into Percy with a yelp, immediately flicking the back of his neck. “Not you too. Can I at least -” 

Finally, she saw past Percy’s shoulder, past the small gathering of people whose company she was no doubt more than used to, and her eyes found Keyleth. 

This time, there was no hope of Keyleth even managing a hi through the even bigger lump in her throat. With horror, it felt like she was about to actually, properly, start crying for the first time in this whole, insane day. 

“Keyleth,” breathed Vex with stunned disbelief. 

Trinket yapped happily, darting away from Vex back towards Keyleth, jumping up and pawing at Keyleth’s thighs. 

“ Down Trinket,” Vex scolded but it was a weak command, and her eyes didn’t stray from Keyleth’s face even for a second. 

“He -” Keyleth’s voice cracked a little. “He’s fine. I don’t mind.” She swallowed - the lump didn’t move - and absently moved to pat Trinket as a desperate, grounding distraction. “Hi, Vex.” 

For a second, something fierce, something full of fire and emotion and all of Vex’s carefully compartmentalised fury seemed to rush to the surface, igniting in the incredulity of her expression and making Keyleth tense in anticipation. But before Keyleth could even blink, it was gone, and Vex was hurrying around Percy, depositing a jacket and a bag of her own by the couch and throwing Keyleth’s already teetering emotional state out the window as she gathered her into a hug. 

All the breath was knocked out of Keyleth’s lungs - more than when Grog’s suffocating bear hug - and her arms hesitantly closed around Vex’s middle. She didn’t know if it was better or worse that, unlike the others, nothing about Vex felt familiar. 

The soft waft of her shampoo, the last hints of her perfume from the morning, both scents that Keyleth had never smelled before. The grip of her arms, the lean muscle of her body, was stronger than Keyleth remembered her from before. Her skin was darker, more tanned than it had ever been in all the summers they’d known each other, a beautiful, warm, rich olive that Keyleth had adored on Vax, but that Vex had done everything to avoid, knowing it would earn her yet another mark of her father’s disapproval. 

“Hi,” Keyleth said again, this time a tearful whisper she didn’t really mean to be heard, and for a moment, she thought she could feel Vex’s breath hitch too. Then she was pulling away, taking a step back to look Keyleth up and down. She’d smoothed her expression over, her smile careful, still warm, but without the shock and shakiness from before. 

“Well, darling, what on earth are you doing here?” 

Keyleth could hear the slight distance to her now, as though she’d scrambled back to her edge of the chasm between them. But even still, there was a warmth to the question, a smile offered readily, perhaps tinged with more politeness than openness, but there nevertheless. 

Keyleth didn’t understand. 

Vex should hate her. 

With everyone else, Keyleth could reason herself into their joy, their forgiveness. They had been her friends for a long time, through so much tumultuous grief and growth in all their lives. They were good people, good enough to decide that one mistake - even if it had been the worst mistake of Keyleth’s life, cutting them all off without looking back - wasn’t worth the penance Keyleth thought she owed them all. 

But what Keyleth had done to Vax had destroyed any chance of Vex’s forgiveness, she knew that for certain. And whoever Vex had grown into, this beautiful, self-assured, confident person, surely couldn’t have changed so much that Vax wasn’t the most important person in her life, the person she would do anything for. 

Unless - 

Keyleth’s eyes darted to Vax. Even from the tiniest sliver of his expression that she caught before immediately tearing her gaze away, the pieces clicked with resounding certainty. 

They didn’t know. They couldn’t - Vex couldn’t - know, not if she was asking questions like this, looking at Keyleth with a compartmentalised but still welcoming smile. Which meant that Vax hadn’t - 

Keyleth’s gaze found Vax again, this time more tentatively, and the way he avoided her eyes was as much of a confirmation as she needed that he’d kept that very last night they’d shared to himself - or at the very least, the parts of it she treasured most. The realisation caught itself up in her lungs and twisted like circling vines, but worked loose a large portion of her nerves too, allowing them to sink into the ground, relief threatening to swallow her whole even as confusion crept through her chest. Trinket huffed a breath and hopped up onto the couch, whining once again for attention and thankfully breaking the silence the room was on the verge of lapsing into. Keyleth scratched the top of his head again, grateful for the temporary distraction whilst her emotions swirled. Trinket made a soft ruff in the back of his throat, his eyes closing.

It was too big to even begin to unpack while surrounded by literally everyone . But as Vex’s gaze flicked between Keyleth and Trinket, a small, almost unreadable smile - one that felt very similar to those Keyleth had seen on Vax all afternoon - made its way onto her lips, and Keyleth recognised Vax’s silence for the gift that it was. Whether he’d intended it or otherwise. Right now, it was the one thing making sure that the welcome she was receiving was untarnished by the hurt she’d caused him.

“Long story short, she’s in Vax’s PhD programme,” supplied Scanlan. “Small world ‘n all that.” 

Vex finally glanced over at her brother, eyebrow arching. “Oh?” 

“We ran into each other today, at the project meeting,” said Vax. “Figured Keyleth should see everyone else too. I messaged the house chat.” 

“Ah,” said Vex with a hum, taking another step away from Keyleth, untucking her own very smart, crisp, light grey button up shirt and sinking onto the couch next to Trinket. “I was putting out client fires and was on my work phone all day. My regular phone has been at the bottom of my bag since 8am.” 

“Our corporate superstar,” Vax teased. 

“Fuck off, it’s not corporate ,” Vex fired back, shuddering. “Can you imagine?” 

“Think of the perks , Vex,” said Scanlan with a grin, and Keyleth gathered that this was clearly a familiar topic of banter. “Expensive dinners. Endless alcohol. Absurdly expensive office snacks. Fancy summer parties. Tickets to shows. Think of the luxury .” 

“Yes, and for the small price of my soul,” said Vex, rolling her eyes and flinging a cushion in Scanlan’s direction. 

Pike leaned over towards Keyleth. “Vex gets very impressive, very lucrative job offers from some corporate hell hole at least once every three months,” she explained. 

“You could buy us a house after like, five years,” continued Scanlan. 

“Why don’t you go become someone rich and famous in the music industry and do it for us, hm?” said Vex, and the room descended back into warm, bubbling chatter. Keyleth returned to her spot on the other couch, next to Pike, trying to coax her body into remembering how to breathe like a regular person. 

At least for now, nobody hated her. 

She let the conversation ebb and flow around her, accepting a top up of her tea from Scanlan, listening to Vex and Percy each recount their days, watching how they fit into this now complete dynamic of the six of them. Vax leaned against the back of the armchair, the look he eventually exchanged with her hesitant and fragile but full of shared relief. Enough time passed that tension unwound from Keyleth’s shoulders, and when conversation finally drifted back to her, the lump had finally disappeared from the back of her throat. The sun had began to dip below the horizon by now and Keyleth really should’ve left - she needed to walk back across town to her sublet, and she’d been here for hours - but it felt so easy to sink into the warmth, the comfort of it all. 

“You gonna tell us about that hippie mountain village you ran away to live in, or what?” Grog asked, the directness to it softened by the teasing glint in his eye. Still, Vax flicked him on the back of the head, silently reprimanding, and the high-pitched yelp Grog let out made Keyleth roll her eyes. 

“Grog, Zephrah’s not a hippie commune,” she said. “It’s a pretty big, very beautiful, quite diverse city.” 

“What, you were expecting Grog to know geography?” said Scanlan from the armchair, smirking. 

“Oh, fuck you Meat-man,” said Grog, flipping him off. As the two descended into bickering, Keyleth glanced at Pike, nose wrinkled with confusion. 

Meat-man?, she mouthed. 

Pike shook her head, mouthed back, Don’t ask.

Grog and Scanlan’s dispute settled as Scanlan’s timer for the oven went off and he pushed himself up from his chair to deal with it. Grog promptly returned his attention to Keyleth. 

“Nah, seriously, Key,” he said, “What was it like?” He was earnest and curious this time in a way that made Keyleth’s chest ache. Oh, she’d missed him. “I mean, we looked at photos ‘n shit for months before you left but it always kinda felt like a made up place back then.” 

Pike nudged Keyleth’s knee lightly with her own. “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked softly, and Keyleth found the dangerous hint of tears returning at the look on Pike’s face, the reminder that these people knew her, down to the cells that made up her bones.

Even Vex’s eyes were on her, reserved but yearningly curious. 

“Yeah,” said Keyleth, softer, more reverent than she’d planned on, but all the more sincere for it. “Yeah, I did.” 

Keyleth’s friends - if she could call them friends, after all this time - seemed determined not to let her slip away, even if she’d wanted to. (She didn’t. She hadn’t ever wanted to, not for a second - that was just how the cards had fallen.)

Vax’s schedule was penned onto the family calendar that hung on the fridge, with SEMESTER STARTS in bold, impossible to miss letters. She didn’t recognise the handwriting, so presumably it was Percy or Scanlan’s doing; she could imagine it, either of them stood in front of the fridge with a pen in hand, being instructed by various people to add things here and there, when they’d inevitably only intended to add one thing to their own column. All of which was to say, these people knew Vax’s schedule. They knew the semester hadn’t started yet, and that this meeting, although important, had been an informal, pre-everything-kicking-off kind of affair. Therefore, by extension, they knew her schedule - so when Pike messaged and insisted - without really allowing no to be an answer - that the two of them meet up, Keyleth folded and said yes without much (or any) fight.

(Despite the flutter of nerves that accompanied the suggestion. As much as she’d tried to avoid thinking about it, Keyleth knew that in the eighteen or so hours since she’d walked out of that far too lovely house she’d been offered a room in, she would’ve been talked about extensively behind closed doors.)

(Although, again, unbidden, the reminder crept in: Vax hadn’t told anyone. It repeated like a mantra, confused and undeserved, in the back of her mind. Vax didn’t tell anyone .)

Pike’s hug was tight as she swept Keyleth into her arms, and her smile was full of beaming delight and kindness, so bright it could’ve almost outshone the summer sun that greeted them through the window. Just like Vax had the day before in the coffee shop opposite his - their - university building, Pike too moved through the café she’d sent Keyleth directions to that morning like she knew it as well as the back of her hand, had been here countless times before. Keyleth thought about how well she now knew the winding streets and mountainsides of Zephrah, how she knew exactly where to look to see the first spring bulbs poking through the grass, how she knew so many footpaths through the fields on the outskirts of town, how many small shops and cafés she herself could have walked through blindfolded because six years was long enough for a place to etch itself upon a person’s bones. In a different life, she would’ve known Whitestone just as well. As it was, when Pike reappeared next to her with two miso chocolate chip cookies in a paper bag, she was reminded that now, she had the chance to learn at the tips of her fingers.

“These are incredible,” Pike told her, breaking one of the cookies in half and holding it out in her direction as they waited for the takeaway iced coffees they’d ordered. “One day I’m going to convince their chef to give me the recipe. I’ve tried to recreate it at home like, a million times and there’s always something I’m missing.”

Keyleth took the cookie Pike was holding out to her with a smile, grateful for the ease of Pike’s presence. 

“If anyone can win them over to sharing trade secrets, I’m sure it’s you,” she said with a chuckle, nervousness flaking away when Pike laughed. 

Their drinks appeared up on the counter, both loaded up with ice, condensation already beaded on the outside of the plastic cups. Keyleth’s had oat + vanilla scribbled in permanent marker on the side, while Pike’s read americano + caramel. Keyleth gratefully thanked the overworked student behind the counter, then followed Pike out through the swinging glass door, handing Pike her coffee as they left.

The conversation flowed similarly to the day before as they wandered aimlessly through cobbled Whitestone streets that Keyleth was slowly becoming a little familiar with. Pike, with the same earnestness as Vax, wanted to hear the details that had slipped through the cracks the evening before at their house, due to her surprise arrival. So many little pieces: her favourite places in Zephrah, whether it matched up with the idea she’d had in her head, whether she’d been there the whole time or done exchanges elsewhere, how she got on with the cousins she’d barely known at eighteen, if she missed it.

“I do,” Keyleth admitted, relieved to have the space to put that, to be honest about it beyond the messages she’d exchanged with friends in Zephrah. “This feels like a new adventure, and - I assume you know  from Vax about the research project for Tal'dorei Ecological?”

Pike nodded.

“It’s huge . Like, the kind of thing that academics with decades of experience are jumping to be a part of, let alone people as early in our career like Vax and I. That plus my scholarship was just too good of an opportunity to pass up - and obviously, it’s crazy and amazing that you’re all here too - but I -” She took a moment to catch her breath, her inhale a little shaky on the aching truth of it all. “I do really miss Zephrah, Pike. More than I ever would’ve expected to when I first moved there.”

“I remember how torn you were about going,” Pike said gently, and Keyleth exhaled an old but heavy agreement. She’d been so set on Whitestone - on building new lives with the friends she had, on helping the twins find their feet somewhere new, on chasing what she could here - until the rug had been so thoroughly pulled out from under her feet. 

“I was,” she agreed. “But I… I really did adore everything I found. The people, the family… just, all of it. It’s incredible to be here, but it’s hard not to be homesick too. Six years is a long time.”

Pike nodded, thoughtfully. “Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t. I feel like we’re all such different people to who we were at eighteen. But then, the moment you started talking yesterday, it felt like no time had passed at all. Like we just pressed a pause button on those friendships, and you’d walked back in and pressed play.”

“You feel the same to me. Or rather - I don’t mean the same .” Keyleth paused, tapping her condensation-damp fingers lightly against her slightly slippery coffee cup, trying to assemble the abstract notion of what all of this felt like into clearer words. “You all feel older - and I can tell I have so much catching up to do - I mean, that is, if you -”

“Don’t think for a second you’re getting away from us,” Pike interrupted with a flash of her trademark determination before Keyleth could even finish the thought. 

Keyleth’s cheeks flushed. “Yeah, I - I don’t want to. For the record. If you’ll have me.”

“ Keyleth .” A combination of fondness, certainty, and exasperation slipped into the word, impossible to misread. Warmth bloomed in Keyleth’s chest. 

“Right, yes. Good. Okay.” Keyleth’s cheeks remained flushed, and Pike looked for a second as if she was resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she reached down and squeezed Keyleth’s wrist. 

“You were saying?” 

Keyleth nodded. “You all feel older, and… not the same as I remember, in a lot of ways. You’re all so grown up and seem so much more secure in yourselves. Maybe one evening isn’t enough to get a solid grasp on what your lives are like now, but Grog seems to have really found himself through this football coaching, with the way he talked about it. You’re in med school and, I mean, we all knew you were gonna do that and kick ass but seeing it is something else entirely. And I mean - I don’t even know where to start with the twins.”

“I know,” Pike said, the two simple words somehow managing to capture so much of Keyleth’s fondness and awe for the comfort both Vex and Vax now had in their own skin, the confidence, the steadiness that emanated from them both, which at eighteen and trapped within Syldor’s rigid framework, had been beyond a pipe dream.

Keyleth found herself once again attempting to find words she wanted to say but doing a hopeless job of expressing a feeling she had no name for. Nostalgia and warmth and homeliness and new and old all mixed up into one bag and shaken around to make something indistinguishable, but so very, very hopeful. “And yet, you’re all… I don’t know. Still you guys.”

Pike surveyed her quietly. The moment dragged out, and Keyleth swirled her iced coffee to hear the ice cubes clatter against each other and the plastic, before taking a sip, vaguely wishing for a way to worm her way out of Pike’s view. As teenagers, people had always seen the twins’ narrowed eyes, and often forgot that Pike was just as shrewd. From down the street came the call of a grocer advertising deals from behind his market stall, and the chatter of passers by. Doors to other shops they walked past swung open, then closed, as the customers made their way out onto the sunny streets too, and still, Pike watched her thoughtfully.

“I know you haven’t had much time since last night,” Pike said eventually, steadily meeting Keyleth’s gaze. “But have you had any more thoughts about our spare room?”

Keyleth’s teeth lightly caught the inside of her lip, her uncertainty making a reappearance. Yes, she’d thought about it. In fact, she’d hardly stopped thinking about it. It was a generous offer and it would have been so easy to immediately take them all up on it, to abandon the miserable house hunting she’d been doing until now and move her things into the empty bedroom she’d been shown the evening before. 

Vex, of all people, had been the one to ask if she’d had a house tour, immediately chastising the others for having neglected it ‘til then. Pike and Vax had shown her around while the others continued winding down for the evening. The bedroom Vax had offered to her was exactly as they’d all described it; it stood currently unused, except for when guests slept over on what looked like a creaky old bed that had long since seen its prime. (“I’d get a new one, if I were you,” Scanlan advised, leaning against the bedroom doorway. “We basically just kept it because it’s so shit, it deters anyone who stays over from deciding they want to get freaky after a party.” Keyleth had flushed furiously, Pike pinching the bridge of her nose and trying not to laugh, and Vax had pointedly avoided looking at Keyleth.) The room was sandwiched between two rooms on the first floor which, even from just a quick glance, were easily identifiable as Pike’s and Vex’s - Pike’s at the back of the house, leading out onto the roof, Vex’s at the front, with a beautiful, vast bay window.

But despite Vax’s earnest, quiet offer, despite his openness and the thought he’d put into it, (despite his assurance that between the two of them, there were no hard feelings about the way things had been left), where to live was an enormous choice to make, and Keyleth wasn’t going to make it on impulse. Even though everyone else had agreed with him, and chimed in with their own invites.

“Is everyone really on board with this idea?” she asked, trusting that Pike, at least, would be perfectly up front with her.

Pike nodded. “‘Course. We talked about it after you left yesterday. Feels almost like it’s been waiting for you, in a way.”

That, Keyleth didn’t have the faintest idea what to do with. “What about Percy, and Scanlan? They don’t even know me.”

“They know us,” Pike told her easily, with a vague shrug of her shoulder. “And I mean - it’s not like they haven’t heard your name before, or know nothing about you. They have an idea who you are. But you can ask them yourself, if you want.”

Keyleth had already promised to come round for dinner the evening after (“Percy makes excellent bolognese, you gotta try it,”) which would provide plenty of opportunity anyway. Pike’s expression remained open, and when Keyleth nodded, she broke back out into the kind of smile Keyleth had always found impossible not to return. “You’re stuck with us now,” she teased.

Keyleth didn’t have a response for her. 

A car beeped its horn at a cyclist as they crossed the road into a park, and Keyleth followed as Pike led her down a clearly well-familiar path, the flower beds alive with bright pinks and purples and yellows. The feeling that washed through her was one she’d first noticed when she was eighteen, walking alone through an airport arrivals lounge, her whole life packed into the same two suitcases it was right now. An apprehensive, bubbling curl of anticipation, and with it, fragile fingers of hope carefully cradling her heart. 

A beginning.

It wasn’t a difficult decision to make, truthfully. Despite Keyleth’s initial uncertainty, she would have been a fool to turn down the welcome she’d been offered, particularly when it came with such staggering warmth and delight for her presence. 

Dinner had been a bustling affair, with Vex arriving back late from work, and both Scanlan and Grog needing to head out in the evening - Grog for a night security shift and Scanlan to attend a gig - but the slight chaos only added to the homeliness of the affair. Keyleth got the impression it happened often, watching the ease with which Percy, Vax, and Scanlan wove around each other in the kitchen, removing plates from cupboards and spreading them out across the breakfast bar, passing glasses over to Pike so she could set the table, reaching around each other for salt to add to the homemade garlic butter and extra chili flakes for the bubbling pot on the stove. The air was filled with the scent of oregano and basil, and as condensation settled against the inside of the kitchen windows, the popping of corks from the wine she’d turned up with joined it too.

Keyleth had been unthinkingly swallowed into the conversations that flitted around the room, as they moved first from the kitchen to the dining table, then over towards the couches; only this time, it wasn’t about her at all but instead, the mundane chit-chat that felt as though it often found its way into the end of days. An asshole at Percy’s work, a dog Trinket had befriended while out for a walk that morning who lived a few streets away, a story from Scanlan about a friend of his who’d accidentally gone on a date with their ex’s brother, only for both to be absolutely horrified when they met up in person.

Percy had exchanged a look with her, at that. They’d both returned to the breakfast bar to refill glasses of wine, and were a little separated from the rest of the group - enough that no one could overhear Percy telling her, “Expect more of that kind of story, if you move in,” with a small smile. Keyleth allowed her gaze to scan the room, taking in Vax and Grog’s laughter and Vex’s over-exaggerated disgust, Scanlan with his hands up attempting to explain that it was a blind dating app so there was no way for them to know, Pike’s wrinkled nose. All of them, distracted.

“I was wanting to ask, actually, what you thought of that idea?” Her volume matched his, and for a second, as Percy finished topping up her glass and slid the almost empty bottle back onto the countertop, Keyleth wasn’t sure if he’d heard her. When he looked up, however, he considered her, sharp blue eyes flickering over her face as if he was reading her like a wide-open book.

It was curious, that the two new housemates her friends had found were, in many ways, such polar opposites. Where Scanlan was an oversharer, Percy seemed reserved. She’d met each of them twice, and Keyleth was pretty sure she already knew enough about Scanlan to at least fill an A4 page, whereas for Percy, she’d barely have been able to manage a handful of bullet points. Which wasn’t to say he hadn’t been welcoming - he had, and from the questions he’d sent in her direction, he seemed interested in getting to know the person she was now , rather than the ghost who’d haunted his friends’ stories for the last six years - but he seemed more careful with his words, particularly around strangers.

Percy’s fingers drummed lightly against the edge of his wine glass as Scanlan launched into another, equally high-energy tale, and the silence between the two of them grew, a thoughtful weight sinking in, until eventually, Percy’s eyes found hers again. 

“We deliberately made this house into a family home,” he said, his gaze sharp in a way that seemed to see right through her. “And I don’t know you.” 

Keyleth nodded, and Percy’s pause hung in the air between them. She swallowed. The words were nothing but truthful, yet still stung a little, direct as they were. But barely a moment later, Percy’s gaze softened infinitesimally, the sharp edges stripped away. Perhaps by the laughter that made its way to them from the couches, the wine, the way Vax glanced over to the two of them talking, his eyes bright. Or maybe, because of something else entirely that she currently had no hope of understanding. He tilted his head ever so slightly towards the others. “But I’d have to be blind not to see how much you matter to them,” he added quietly. “We have a free room, and they all want you in it, and there are few people whose judgement I trust more.”

Which, truthfully, had been exactly what Keyleth had needed to hear.

Now, she stood in the doorway of her new bedroom, a large, battered suitcase at her feet and worn carpet beneath them, out of breath from carrying half of her belongings up the stairs. 

This room was the smallest - on par with Vax’s, which sat above this on the third floor - and had been the one none of the others wanted when they’d first moved in. It wasn’t as interesting as any of the rooms above, lacking the sloping roofs that the attic bedrooms all had in parts, and it didn’t have the charming bay windows of Vex’s and Grog’s rooms, or the rooftop access of Pike’s. Nevertheless, it was lovely. 

She’d ordered a bedside table and a clothes rack, and almost everyone had offered to take her into the city centre to shop for anything she hadn’t been able to bring over from Zephrah. On Scanlan’s advice, the old bedframe had been dismantled and left on the side of the road. Her new bed wasn’t built yet - that was this evening’s task - but more people than could probably fit into her room had already volunteered to help, and there was a perfect bed-shaped nook to the left of her door for it to fit into. A desk sat in front of the window, and beside it, a chest of drawers that had been left there by the landlord, but the rest of the room was sparse in a way her previous university accommodation in Zephrah had never been.

The contrast was a stark reminder how odd it was to be starting again. 

In Zephrah, rooms had always come furnished with the standard furniture provided by the university: a bed with a carved wooden headboard (creaky from decades of use but well made by the woodsmith the university had first employed), a desk and chair in matching hardwood, a small bedside table, and a mismatched, paler wooden wardrobe. The bookshelf she’d had for the entire six years she’d lived there had been a gift from her aunt and uncle, Derrig and Nel, when she first moved to Zephrah; originally tucked away in their spare room and lovingly offered to Keyleth without hesitation. It had carried her slow collection of new possessions over the years that followed, and staring at the almost empty room in front of her, she missed it - the possessions, yes, but the bookshelf, more than anything. It, too, had been lovingly made, with carved vines creeping along the edges and across the top, polished to perfection. It had gone to a good home, at least; Leeta had taken it off her hands.

Because her last room had been hers for so long, it’d had pieces of her all over - market-acquired trinkets, chestnuts from nearby hikes and seashells from trips down to the coast, jewellery, art that Maeve had helped her frame and hang (though it always seemed to be a little crooked, no matter how hard they tried to adjust it), the print of native plants that was a gift from a coursemate on the back of her door, the second-hand stereo from Will. A large, bushy green shrub had sat beside her desk, a fern with silver backs to the leaves on her bedside table beside her lamp, and she’d had ivy cascading down the side of her wardrobe. 

Most of those things that had become familiar landmarks, cornerstones, comforts, in the place that had been her home over the past six years, she’d had to leave behind. Packed carefully into boxes, and stored in her family’s attic, what felt like a whole world away.

Moving somewhere new was always going to be odd, she’d known that. It was especially odd, though, to be moving into a place that was so achingly, wonderfully filled with the lives her friends - and their friends - had been leading in her absence. This house was so full . Everyone's rooms felt so theirs . 

The communal spaces, too. Now that she’d had the chance to have a more thorough look around, she knew that the shared bookshelves in the living room held an eclectic mixture of fiction and non-fiction, sandwiched between recognisable titles of cookbooks that had come all of this way with Pike and Grog (shiny and new, when she’d first flicked through them, sat at Wilhand’s kitchen table in their last month of high school in Emon, but now considerably more well-used and with oil stains on the spines). A battered laptop she knew was Grog’s - although she was completely bewildered over how the thing even still worked - had been sitting on the coffee table when she’d first walked in. The plants artfully arranged in the living room screamed Vex and Pike, and the photos tacked onto the door of the fridge - alongside reminders, a letter from the city council, and a communal shopping list - showed countless adventures through the years. The six of them up a mountain, a group photo in the living room, a few photos that contained all of them in various combinations, in graduation caps and gowns, Whitestone’s colours shown through the silk linings of the hoods.

Keyleth exhaled, forcing herself to let the vague out of place feeling go, as she heard Grog and Vax’s huffing and puffing as they headed up the stairs, alongside the clatter of the second suitcase she’d squeezed into Vax’s car colliding with the stairs. 

It took time to make a home, she knew that now better than she ever had before. 

She placed her new house keys down on the desk and took a second to just breathe in the room; the way the carpet felt beneath her socks, the rustle of the gentle wind through her cracked window, the sound of chatter downstairs. She had time. At least a year, according to the lease she’d signed - at least three , according to her PhD scholarship.

She just had to take it one day at a time.

Chapter Text

The life Keyleth was adopted into by moving into the house was a whirlwind, and far easier to get swept up in than she had expected. She should have, really, knowing just how vibrant Vax and Vex and Pike and Grog were, and how likely it was that the people they’d collected along the way would match that.  

In the weeks before moving in, she had come to know a little about what the lives, routines, and habits of the house looked like; mainly from Vax, Pike, and Scanlan, the three who she saw the most of while still heading home to the bland, unhomely dorm she’d been staying in. She would have liked to see the others more, but Grog’s schedule was unpredictable and had him mostly on the other side of the city, and Percy and Vex both worked long days in office jobs that didn’t leave a whole lot of flexibility for mid-morning coffees as a study break, or dinners at the famous ramen place hidden away on a side street near campus. But Pike’s current med-school placement was only a ten minute walk away from their university building, and Scanlan was working with a lot of final-year music production students, so in the weeks that Keyleth was tossing up whether or not to move in with them, she found herself tugged into the rich warmth of their day-to-day without even meaning to.

Once she took the leap, packed up the handful of belongings that had made their way out of her suitcase, and hauled it all into the trunk of Vax’s car, it was a whole new life to get entangled in. 

First, there were her own meetings with her supervisor, the undergraduate tutorials she was teaching for a meagre amount of extra cash, and endless hours of reading journal articles and textbooks and conference papers until her vision blurred. 

But then there was everything else: the way the house smelled of a home cooked dinner every time she stepped through the front door. Scanlan’s shower playlist (always a bizarre and eclectic mix) humming through her bedroom walls in the morning (thankfully after her alarm had already jolted her awake). Climbing up the stairs to muffled chatter coming from Pike’s room, which meant some collection of people were out on the roof. Playing with Trinket in the back garden during sun soaked late evenings after dinner, the light pouring through the tree tops and making the other houses around them gleam as though they were on fire, all golden warm and soundtracked by the chirping of crickets. The comfortable, quickly familiar morning routine of her and Vax walking to campus together, the morning sun just on the cusp of becoming too hot (only really bearable with the promise of iced coffees, picked up en route to their offices). The card games around the coffee table on Sunday mornings, the smell of Pike’s famous pancakes hanging in the air, syrup-sticky plates abandoned around them and cards dealt out between multiple mugs of tea and coffee and beneath stories and rants and hilarities of the week just passed. 

She’d seen plenty of photos of Whitestone before; sat at a computer in Emon State High School’s ageing library, sandwiched between the twins as they’d flicked through university options, and from Pike and Grog as they’d narrowed down their own university choices. She’d researched the city on her own, too, when she’d been going back and forth about studying in Zephrah, where she’d have the chance to find the pieces of her mother she’d always wanted to look for, or here, with her friends.

Keyleth returned to the photos last year with hopeful, tentative curiosity. She’d very intentionally put Whitestone at the bottom of a long list of potential PhD programmes, diligently reading up on every single university, every supervisor, every opportunity. She hadn’t known what it was she was hoping for back then: that Whitestone was the perfect place for her to go, or that it wasn’t. 

Some days, now, she still wasn’t sure. 

It helped that it was so different in person, more real than the place that had lived in her imagination for all these years. Tall white towers belonging to the university and government buildings stretched up above in the city centre, all intricate stonework and carefully chiseled detail, while houses spiralled out and past the old city walls. In many ways, Whitestone’s rigidity completely contrasted Zephrah’s nature-filled sprawl and bustle; but the charm of this cobble-stoned, quietly humming city was easily found in the glow of the warm orange streetlights that flickered on at dusk and illuminated paved streets, in the dark oak-beamed houses grouped together in the older districts, in the nooks mentioned to her as places she had to visit, favourite food markets and restaurants and sights whose names were thrown into conversations and carried history and love with them.

Helped, of course, by a fierce determination for this place to become her home, spearheaded by the people whose ghosts had haunted the imaginary version of this city and who also were so much more real in these strange, whirlwind days. Pike had almost immediately shown her what she’d decided was the best grocers in town, the wooden crates out the front piled high with bright reds and oranges and greens, fresh herbs sold in loose bundles to the side of the till, in-season flowers neatly wrapped in a brown paper by the door. Once they got home, she’d helped to clear out space in their big kitchen for Keyleth to squeeze her groceries into, and had sat on the counter with a grin, watching as Keyleth unpacked. Grog and Scanlan had strong-armed everyone into a pub trip the first night they were all free, Percy quietly asked how she was settling in, something guarded in his eyes that thawed a little as she asked him questions about the city. Vex, distant in a way Keyleth could almost, almost convince herself she was imagining, still went out of her way to place a vase of flowers on the desk of Keyleth’s new room with a small, nearly hidden smile.

And, then, of course, there was Vax, who’d made a habit of appearing at her office door at least once every few days and dragging her into the city for a real lunch break, or if neither of them had the time, just eating at her desk, alternating bites with questions about her research proposal and answering her own in return. Groaning about the mountains of work they both had to do despite it only being three weeks since the start of semester, his forehead comically resting on his desk as she swung by to walk home with him in the evening. And of course, it was Vax who kept taking every opportunity to introduce her to his people.

As Keyleth had somewhat expected, it all culminated in a start of semester party that brought together everyone Vax and the others knew. Keyleth had tried to help out with tidying and setting up and decorating, but she’d been unceremoniously ushered out of the living room by Pike and Grog (“This is your first Whitestone party, you’re a guest tonight! Now fuck off and go get ready.”) 

She’d found herself upstairs instead, joining Percy as he hovered in Vax’s doorway while Vex steadily held her brother’s chin in place with one hand and applied careful, shimmering navy blue eyeliner. Catching movement in his periphery, Vax glanced over and smiled when he saw Keyleth. 

“Anyone here yet?” he asked. 

“Not yet,” said Keyleth. “Pike and Grog banned me from helping downstairs.” 

“Good, you’re a guest for your first party,” said Vex, and Keyleth tried not to preen at the absentminded warmth in her voice. It promptly disappeared as Vex huffed exasperatedly and tugged Vax forward to face her. “Stop moving around, idiot. Do you want perfect eyeliner or not?”

By the time they were all ready and made their way back downstairs, people had started to arrive, Scanlan had cranked up the music, and Pike was wrapped up in conversation with two people that Keyleth faintly recognised from the intense Instagram stalking she’d done in the last few weeks. Without really meaning to, she tensed, tripping over her own feet a little as she came to an unexpected halt in the living room doorway. 

What if none of these people liked her? They’d very clearly become family to her friends in these years she’d been gone. Everywhere she looked, she saw people with so much … life to them. They moved around this house with the ease of knowing it as intimately as the people who lived there, an ease that Keyleth hadn’t learnt as yet. She wasn’t family. Not anymore. An old friend, sure, but if the people at this party didn’t like her - 

“Hey. Keyleth.” 

She blinked, staring at Vax who seemed to have doubled back when he realised she hadn’t followed him into the room. There was a slight apprehension to the look in his eyes, as though he didn’t want to make assumptions, but he waded through it nevertheless, giving her a small, comforting, crooked smile. “You’re gonna love ‘em,” he offered gently. 

“I know,” said Keyleth, a little weakly, and probably not at all convincing. 

“They’re gonna love you too,” said Vax. “You trust me?” 

Keyleth managed to restrain herself from laughing at the absurdity of the question. Did she trust him? Implicitly. 

“Yes,” she said, quieter than she meant to. Something crept into his eyes at that, a flicker of something Keyleth didn’t have time to grasp in the split second it was there. Vax covered it with a wider smile, nudging her shoulder with his. 

“Who d’you wanna meet first?”  

Keyleth nodded towards the duo with Pike. “They look cool.” 

Percy reappeared beside them, a drink now in his hand. His eyes followed her gaze, and he grinned. “Zahra and Kash,” he informed Keyleth. “They were in the same dorm block as us in first year. Zahra and Vex had this whole thing -” 

Vax snorted with laughter. 

“- it was ridiculous, really. They hated each other’s guts for what, a year? And -”

A sharp elbow met Percy’s ribs, Vex’s withering gaze making Percy roll his eyes and relent while Vax chuckled, patting Percy sympathetically on the shoulder. Keyleth fought back a smile, and crossed through the doorway into the living room. 

Lights swirled around them, the tacky USB disco ball that’d apparently been a spontaneous purchase three years ago illuminating the room in time with the music from Scanlan’s speakers, thanks to Percy fiddling with the wiring. The kitchen and living room were already filling with friends from these past years at Whitestone University, (many of whom had stayed in Whitestone after graduating) and others who’d been sucked into this chaos along the way, namely a handful of Pike’s friends from med school, two friends of Vex’s from work, and some of Grog’s football buddies. 

Kash, Zahra, Jarett, Alina, Kynan - the list went on, more and more people who smiled and threw a warm hello her way, and she followed the trails of conversation as if they were the swirling winds that made their way across Zephrah’s cliffs, intensity ebbing and growing but never far from her skin. 

The house felt so alive. Full of warmth - both figuratively and more literally, as the night went on - and delight. The kitchen table had been pushed back against the wall and the couches rearranged to create an impromptu dance floor, and the laughter from that direction blended perfectly with chatter from the kitchen as people caught up with one another - many for the first time in several months, it seemed - and poured fresh drinks over by the breakfast bar. This spacious room was usually sectioned off into a vague kitchen, dining table, couches arrangement, but like this, Keyleth could understand what the others had said about it being the perfect home for hosting. 

She re-screwed the lid onto a bottle of rhubarb and ginger gin and set it back down on the counter, giving her drink a stir with her straw. Ice cubes clinked against the glass.

Like so many other things had since she’d stepped out of the airport and inhaled her first breaths of this air, the night was leaving a bittersweet taste on her tongue that she hoped - but doubted - Pike’s gin would be able to wash away. It was hard to keep up, at times. She blinked and Pike was at her elbow with a smile, blinked and Jarett was tugging Kash and Scanlan onto the dance floor, blinked again and the song had switched and Pike was swiping the wine glass Grog had just managed to precariously balance on top of a bottle of tequila from the air before it could fall and smash, rolling her eyes at his comical whine.

Blinked again, and Percy and Vex were on the dance floor, his hands on her hips, her eyes visibly sparkling even from where she stood, close enough that -

“Don’t,” Vax said pitifully from beside her, despite the fact that moments ago she was sure she’d seen him on the other side of the room. He shook his head with a stubborn faux-ignorance and her gaze flicked from Vex and Percy, Vex’s lower lip caught in her teeth as she tipped her head back on the beat and then laughed, breathlessly, and Vax, whose face was stuck somewhere between resignation, nausea, and a the kind of acceptance that betrayed a long history of similar moments from across the years.

Pike laughed from beside her, and Vax turned a wounded look on her. 

“You’d think you’d be used to it by now,” Pike said, and Vax huffed a breath. Out of the corner of her eye Keyleth saw Vex lean further into Percy’s space, somehow. Percy , who even after a few weeks she’d noticed tended to lean away from touch more often than choosing it. “Jury’s out on whether them fucking again would make this better or worse.”

Keyleth felt her eyebrow quirk at the again and Vax sighed, then clarified “First year, before we all moved in together. It was a whole thing. Not something serious though, they ditched the ‘benefits’ part of the friendship at the end of the year. Now it’s just… this nonsense. Every fucking time.” 

Keyleth opened her mouth to speak but Vax held up a tired finger before she could and finished with, “If you want to talk about Vex’s sex life in more detail, I am not the twin to ask.”

She might’ve had more sympathy for him if Pike hadn’t immediately choked on her drink with a snort of laughter. It was hard to keep a straight face with Pike’s shoulders shaking beside her, and Keyleth’s lips twitched too, her smile growing at Vax’s dejected sigh. She nudged his elbow lightly as an apology though, after, and turned her attention away from the dance floor. “You came over just to say hi?” she asked instead, and Vax tilted his head in a vague sort of gesture, but then shook it.

“Actually, to get you. There’s one more person I want you to meet - then I’ll stop introducing you to new people, I swear.”

For a second, Keyleth would’ve sworn she saw a hint of nerves. The same kind she’d felt when she first came downstairs. Completely unwarranted in his case, because if these people mattered to him and to the others too, then she’d happily spend all night being introduced to them - even if it ended up being the whole population of Whitestone. “I like meeting your people,” she pointed out, taking a sip of her drink. She wanted to learn everything she could about the people they’d all grown into, and the friends that had come with them for the ride. 

Vax’s smiles felt easier to come by these days, but the one she got in response still felt special. “Okay,” he nodded, glancing one last time over to the dance floor and wrinkling his nose, then looking past it towards someone she couldn’t see. “In that case… come meet Gil.”

He didn’t notice her absence until much later - or rather, he didn’t notice her absence at all, not with the whirling lights and glittering disco ball and the chaos that always swallowed rooms whole when all of these people he adored ended up grouped together. It was only when that lessened, when the volume on their speakers was turned down a little and the kettle was put on, when Vex had started to coordinate who was staying and calculate complicated sleeping arrangements, and Pike pulled a loaf of banana bread from the cupboard and started passing thick slices around, that Gilmore’s hand slid over his shoulder, as steady as always. Vax leaned into the touch. 

“I haven’t seen Keyleth in a while,” Gilmore said quietly, too low to be overheard. “Maybe worth checking she’s okay?”

Vax glanced around for the flash of auburn hair he’d gotten used to seeing again, and when he found no traces of it, he was powerless to stop the flood of ice that crawled through his veins. When had he last seen her? Chatting to Grog, from the corner of the dance floor? Laughing with Alina in the kitchen as they’d both poured themselves another drink? Had it been before or after he’d been pulled onto the dance floor by Scanlan, before or after the sweaty heat of the summer night through the open windows, before or after Gilmore’s hands on his hips and his head tipping back in laughter? Before or after he’d used Gilmore’s loose, sheer purple top to tug him into a messy, alcohol-hazed kiss that was all teeth and tequila and hadn’t meant anything beyond friendship because that's who Gil was to him, but probably looked like it, to someone who hadn't been here for the past six years. 

An uneasy tension crept into his spine and uncertainty started to tug at the corners of his mind. He didn’t owe Keyleth anything and he wasn’t going to change anything about who he was, who his friends were, what they meant to him, because of her. Especially not Gilmore, Scanlan, and the rest of the queer friendship group he’d collected when he’d first moved away from Emon, who had helped him out of the shell he’d been so desperate to break away from and had provided steady hands on his back and advice and understanding as he found his way. But even so, she was Keyleth . He wasn’t going to assume her feelings for him had lingered the way his own had, but he was well aware from the past few weeks that he still meant something to her. If this was reversed - if he was the one who’d walked back into her life, with memories of her still woven into the fabric of his heart the way he couldn’t deny they were - and he’d stood across the kitchen a few weeks after moving in with her and watched her kiss someone else - 

Vax swallowed the ridiculous, unwarranted discomfort in his throat.

She wasn’t going to be funny about it being Gil, she wasn't, because she was Keyleth rather than one of the shitty exes who’d been weird about things like this, but he couldn’t tame the nerves squirming in his stomach about that, too.

A hand squeezed his shoulder again, grounding him, and when he looked over to Gilmore, the look he received in response clearly said calm down. And oddly, despite Gilmore only having met Keyleth for the first time that evening, it had him nodding and deliberately taking a pause to slow the urgent thrum of his pulse beneath his skin. Gilmore was the only one of his friends he’d told the full story of everything that had happened between him and Keyleth to, so if he thought things were okay, they most likely would be. 

Vax’s hand found the one on his shoulder and squeezed lightly before letting go and stepping away, half an eye on the dwindling houseparty behind them. “What do you think of her?” he couldn’t help asking, soft beneath the layer of music filling their living room. 

He received an easy smile in return. “I think she means a lot to you,” Gil told him quietly, nudging him with familiar warmth. “‘Course I like her. Maybe we have this chat later, though.” 

His reassuring smile was a simultaneous prod out of the door, and Vax huffed an exhale but nodded, and slipped into the hallway, then up the stairs.

He found her exactly where he expected to: perched on the roof outside of Pike’s bedroom window, one knee pulled up to her chest with her chin resting lightly on top of it. In daylight, on a clear day, the roof afforded a beautiful view of Whitestone’s snow-topped mountains in the distance; since coming back, Keyleth had shown him photos of the mountains surrounding Zephrah, the sight of them from her bedroom, her and her cousins having hiked every one, the tattoo Will had of those Zephran ranges curling around his upper arm. Whitestone’s Sierras weren’t her mountains, Vax knew that. But they were, in whatever way they could be, a reminder for Keyleth of the home she’d found on her own, slowly merging with the home she could make here with them too. If she wanted. 

Now, lingering in the doorway to Pike’s bedroom, he could see that the mountains were obscured by darkness and instead, Keyleth gazed out at the city that stretched beyond these walls, streetlights caught in her hair, a pensive look on her face that felt almost too private for him to be observing.

Vax took a soundless step into the room, only then noticing Trinket, who tended to disappear halfway through any party and fall asleep in Vex’s bed. Tonight, he had instead taken up a quiet watch on Pike’s. His ear twitched in Vax’s direction, and tired eyes cracked open.

Vax briefly crouched beside the bed and gave the top of Trinket’s head a light scratch. “Good boy,” he whispered softly.

Whitestone evenings were still clinging onto their summer warmth, autumn not having settled into place yet, and the gentle breeze creeping in through the open window was a welcome change from the stuffiness of the party downstairs. When he stood and looked back out to Keyleth, he nearly changed his mind and left her here in peace. He would have if not for the taut line of her jaw, the tension in her shoulders that he had always known too well, and the lingering, uneasy thought that he might be the cause of it. 

Vax cleared his throat, and when Keyleth tilted her head up, she seemed unsurprised to find him hovering in the shadows. She gave him a small smile of acknowledgement, and he ducked his head to climb through the window. 

He nodded to the space next to her. “May I?”

Keyleth nodded, although her smile was hesitant, so Vax left a few inches of space between them as he took a seat on the roof. The wall was cool beneath his thin shirt as he leant back against it. He pressed his palms onto the rough surface, inhaling hints of the sweet sesame, ginger and garlic that could always be tasted on the air late at night, carried from the noodle bar one street over by a gentle breeze.

That same worry from before gnawed at his stomach, amplified when he caught sight of the apprehension in Keyleth’s eyes. “You okay?” he asked quietly, the words a little muffled by the laughter and music escaping through the kitchen windows out into the night.

Keyleth gave him a tight-lipped smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just needed some fresh air.”

Not for the first time, Vax wished he still knew her as well as he had six years ago. She’d changed - like he had, like they all had - and there was an ache in her he couldn’t make sense of, a guardedness that was unfamiliar to him and had him swallowing down flickers of guilt in his chest. 

No, not guilt. Not quite, because he would never feel guilt for this person he’d clawed into being over the time she’d been gone. But it was something adjacent, something that pulled tight at his ribs, that made his hands restless, something that he couldn’t quite put a name to. An urge to make things right, even though he knew there was nothing either of them owed each other. Despite everything else that they were tiptoeing around, they were on the same page with this, Vax could trust that.

Nerves fluttered beneath his skin, like rousing, feathered wings, like the skittering birds he had been sketching his whole life. He searched for the lightest, most tactful way to broach the conversation, but between the beers he’d downed and how beautiful Keyleth’s hair looked in the dim, street lamp-lit glow, tact seemed far beyond his reach.  “So, uh - Gilmore.”

To his surprise, he watched a bright, genuine smile spread across Keyleth’s cheeks. She tilted her head to meet his gaze properly, her chin cushioned on her arms. Warmth radiated from her, a fierce joy that lit up the dim night around them and took him entirely aback. “Oh, he’s so cool.” 

He shouldn't have doubted her, not Keyleth, because now the strange, unbalanced vertigo he’d been feeling, teetering on the ledge of some high-up cliff, a height he wasn’t usually afraid of, all seemed to clear. He looked - properly looked - and he could see the secrets he’d handed her in another life, still cradled carefully in her palms. The ones that Keyleth - for a long time, only Keyleth - had been allowed to hear; in soft admissions, when it was just the two of them in the messy bubble of teenage adolescence, both yearning for something more than they had then. Back when Vex had been so intent on being the daughter Syldor wanted, despite the olive tint of her skin and the thick, dark hair Elaina had passed on to both twins forever a stain on the children Syldor wanted to see. As their time at high school began to narrow towards its final laps, Vax had been old enough, had distanced himself from Syldor enough, to assemble dusty, forgotten pieces of the family history Elaina had shared with him and Vex into a faint, faded picture. 

A culture with a reputation for being religious, strict, and conservative. A grandmother who had fled her family, pregnant, because she wanted a freedom that was forbidden to her. A mother who had been raised with love, and kindness, but with a fierce attachment to her roots, too.

Vax had never really been ignorant of his own queerness. He’d had crushes on girls and boys alike as a child, had said as much with all the chatty, excitable naivety of being five years old, and Elaina had never batted an eye. Those first eight years of life in a tiny, run-down two-bedroom house in Byroden were faint at the edges of his mind, but that blurred feeling of childhood sense memory was as clear as ever;  of unconditional love, of warm-coloured rugs covering cold, drafty floorboards, musky, smoky incense that chased away the smell of dampness in the winter, the floral sweetness and pleasant burn of Elaina’s evening cup of rose and ginger tea that Vax had once snuck a sip of and burned his tongue with a yelp. He didn’t remember the boy he’d come to her upset over, seven and a half and caught up in a childish mimicry of a relationship, but the smell of cumin and cardamom on her apron as he’d been swept into her arms was still seared into his mind, as was the kiss she’d pressed to his hairline. 

But the years in Syngorn gave a name and a fear to parts of Vax that had before then, been unapologetic, unthinking. He’d never craved Syldor’s love or acceptance, not the way Vex had, so he’d taken the bitterness and fury roiling in his veins and used it to cling on tightly. He traced those feelings back to a time when they tasted like love, when bitterness was just accidentally biting into a cardamom pod in a stew, and when the heat of indignance was the comforting burn of ginger tea. It became armour in a place where he and Vex were constantly vulnerable. 

Queerness hadn’t fit there. Not the way it had when nothing needed language or logic, not in the safety of that house, in the undefined warmth of childhood. 

It wasn’t at all for a lack of trying - he’d been a good researcher long before stepping foot in the halls of Whitestone University. He found every book in the Emon City Public Library (checked out on Keyleth’s library card), watched every movie and documentary he could find (also downloaded on Keyleth’s wifi). He traced pink triangles in old magazines, learned names, dates, and places until they became familiar weights between his tongue and his teeth, and in the space between his ribs. But the beauty and resilience and infinite hope of it all never looked like the safety he’d remembered from all those years ago. And no matter the sincerity of Elaina’s quiet tributes to the strange, beautiful, abstract and far away home that seemed to always be on the periphery of their lives, the older Vax got and the more he understood about his grandmother and mother’s stories, the more he wondered whether the possibility that had thrummed within the walls of their Byroden home - queerness and culture and constant, unyielding love, always - would never be able to exist anywhere else.

But he’d wanted it to, with all the ferocity that Vex didn’t - couldn’t - back then. Keyleth was the one with whom he’d shared the holes that seemed to fill his chest. 

Now, her smile held such warmth, and it made her eyes crinkle at the corners, catching a little of the dim light coming through Pike’s window, as if she’d put together more than his nerves had given her credit for. “You've known Gilmore since first year?” she asked, and he nodded.

“He’s one of the first friends I made here.”

“How’d you meet?”

Instinct made the nerves creep back for a moment; wings in his chest, feathers thrumming under his skin. He took a breath of the welcomingly cool night air, forced the restlessness in his tapping fingers to still for a moment. “Uni, actually,” he said, and the words felt too simple, too casual for it all. He wasn’t sure how exactly to say it in a way that felt the way the memory did now. 

“Gilmore doesn’t seem the type to study Bio,” said Keyleth, a little teasing but all warmth. Knowing. Careful. Intentional. She saw him in the same way she had all those years ago, knew what he needed, but she seemed to nudge him towards it with more quiet subtlety now, grown into new, quiet maturities he didn’t as yet recognise on her. 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, hell no. He studied Anth and Archaeology. It was a language class - optional extra for me, obviously, but Gil and Zahra were in it.” He knew he didn’t have to explain, wouldn’t need to give her any specifics for her to know , but he wanted to. “I didn’t have that much wiggle room for taking things outside of my degree - I’m sure yours was similar.” 

Keyleth nodded. 

“But it just … it felt like a chance to reach out for something , you know? Some part of my mum, some part of whoever Vex and I had been back then and lost over those years in Syngorn.” 

“Vex didn’t take it too?” she asked, still ever so delicate in how the words landed. Perhaps already suspecting his answer. 

“Not then,” he said quietly. “She was still -” The words trailed off without destination. “She needed a little more time,” he rephrased, and Keyleth just nodded again. 

“Was the class what you were looking for?” 

Vax chuckled, curling the fingers of one hand around the other wrist, resting them against his knees. “Somewhat,” he said with a hum. “A little stiff. Not particularly authentic. But it gave me Gil and Zahra and that - that was much more than I could’ve ever dreamed to look for.” 

He would never have tried to keep the fondness from creeping into his voice, but a spark of nerves cracked alongside it, fluttering again, making his arms prickle in the cool air. He’d climbed out the window and sat down beside her to make things better, not to rub salt into wounds. But unexpectedly, Keyleth’s cheeks flushed a little, barely visible in the scattered light, and she tucked some loose hair behind her ear. “He said - Gilmore - that he’d heard a lot about me?” The question was clearly accidental, the words coming out shy. And oddly, paired with a hint of the ache he’d seen in her earlier. Wistfulness, almost. 

The feeling of something that had been missing.

Oh - 

Oh, shit. Of course. 

It wasn’t him at all. 

It wasn’t him, and it wasn’t Gilmore. (How could it have been, when Keyleth had been proud of this part of Vax before he’d ever really known or how to be, known what it really meant at all?)

It was every part of it - the swirling lights and the laughter, the familiarity of everyone who’d come through their front door, this vibrant life that’d been so deliberately curated by them all, one she’d never been here to see. That she’d chosen not to see.

Vax had never truly known loneliness, not with Vex by his side, but he knew what it was like to be on the outside of something you desperately wished was yours. The ache of imagining Keyleth feeling that about this , about them and Whitestone and this life he wanted her so much to be a part of, tugged painfully at his chest. But almost immediately, Vax found himself at odds with the wave of relief that coursed through him as he realised this hurt was hers alone, she’d just needed some space to feel it. 

He didn’t mean for his exhale to be audible, but the flicker in her eyes gave him away. Gilmore, Scanlan, Zahra; these people who’d helped him learn how to fit queerness in and around everything else he wanted to keep hold of, family in a way Keyleth had once been but also hadn’t , couldn’t have been no matter how hard she tried. But the idea that he might have caused her to flee out here by kissing Gil -

She nudged his ankle with her own, interrupting the thought. “Seriously, Vax,” she said, soft and just as deliberate as before, as though she could still read him as easily as she always had. “Gilmore’s - he’s so cool.” Her head tipped back, falling gently against the wall behind them as she gazed up at the night sky. “This might actually be my favourite thing to see out of all of your lives since coming back.” 

“What is?” asked Vax, glancing across at her with a curious arch of his eyebrow. “Our other friends?” 

Keyleth rolled her eyes. “No, Vax. This. ” She gestured to him, and even though there was nothing in front of them for him to catch his own reflection, he’d spent enough time before the party fussing in front of the mirror to know exactly what it was she was seeing. Long hair, braided intricately along his scalp and then falling loose over his shoulders; jeans with worn down, tearing knees; a scattering of silver ear piercings and chunky rings that glinted from the streetlamp ahead of them, their sharpness muted by the dark brown, leather bracelets that encircled his wrists and the faded golden chains around his neck; the beautifully blended eyeliner, courtesy of Vex; the dark, prussian blue of his nails, professionally done, a treat also courtesy of Vex. 

“Oh,” said Vax. He swallowed an unexpected lump in his throat. I only get to be this now because of you, he wanted to say. Did you really see this person in me back then? Do you know how much I’ve wanted you to see a version of me that never had to hide? “And you - you really like Gilmore?” is what came out instead, what he couldn’t stop himself from asking. The words sounded like they belonged to the person he’d been years ago, whispered and far more tentative than they should’ve been. It just -

It mattered .

And again, Keyleth had to know that. She nodded, short but so sincere, and a knot began to pick itself apart inside his chest, the strings falling loose back where they should’ve been. “We’re not - Gil and I, he’s not my -”

“I know,” she promised, bumping her shoulder lightly against his.

Because she was Keyleth, the first person he’d ever dared mention crushes on guys to since he’d been a child. The person who’d sat on her bed beside him with her head on his shoulder as he’d researched the things he needed to, heart beating unsteadily in his chest, using her laptop and internet as his queerness entangled itself in the sinking realisation of danger and shame for the first time. The one who’d nudged him to tell Vex, the one who’d rented Beetlejuice from the library and dragged him over to her house for a movie night, because she’d done research of her own and wanted him to believe in the possibility he was convinced had only ever existed in those precious, fleeting years in Byroden and couldn’t grasp hold of whilst stuck in Syngorn, to know it would be out there, waiting for him, when he and Vex were free.

(Even if Keyleth wouldn’t be there by their side.)

“He’s a friend,” he clarified quickly. 

“I know, Vax,” she said reassuringly. “But I also don’t need to know.” For the first time, she fumbled a little, flushing at the tips of her ears in a way that was only visible because of the hallway light streaming through Pike’s bedroom. “Not in a - not that I don’t want to know, that’s not - if you guys are or aren’t a proper thing, that’s so fine either way, obviously -” 

The rambling was so delightfully familiar, such a refreshing break from this new bout of quiet maturity in her that it forced a laugh from Vax’s ribs, the warmth of it floating into the night with a puff of cold breath. 

Keyleth smiled too, a little wry and a lot sheepish. “I just mean that you don’t owe me that, okay? With Gilmore, one way or another. That’s yours. And that’s about a whole lot more than romance or hookups or anything in between. I know that.” 

Maybe the part of Vax that had never quite forgotten how to be in love with her was a little more so because of this whole conversation, but she certainly didn’t need to know that. 

Voices and chatter drifted up to them, barely more than undefined murmurs. “So everyone knows now?” Keyleth asked after a while. It caught Vax off guard; fuck , it really had been a lifetime since he last saw her. It had been just her and Vex who knew, back then. He’d come out to the others in their first year of university - half a decade ago.

“Yeah,” he said, perhaps a little more whispered than he meant it to be but she took the accidental vulnerability with grace. Smiled warmly at him. She looked so gentle, illuminated just by the lights of the city. 

She didn't add anything else, but she didn’t need to - she’d always been someone he could exist with in comfortable silence. Vax sank back against the brick wall and let the last remaining tension wash from his shoulders, hoping some of hers would leave along with it, despite now knowing the hurt she’d brought up here with her wasn’t something with an easy fix (or any fix at all). This whole world they had was unfamiliar to her, and it was a world she’d given up on her own. She’d simply made different choices - good choices - that had led her down a separate road to the one he and the others had followed. Maybe it would always sting.

Music and laughter softly travelled through the night, joined by the faint hum of distant traffic and passers-by in the street down below, until eventually the playlist Scanlan had painstakingly curated grew softer, the clinking of glass bottles tossed into recycling bins outside muffling lyrics every so often. 

Keyleth lightly nudged him, one last time. “We should go help,” she said, using his shoulder to steady herself as she got to her feet. For the briefest of moments her fingers hovered, brushing featherlight against his neck. “I’m really proud of you,” she said softly, with a curl of fondness for the scrawny, sharp-edged, scared teenager within him that he still struggled to be kind to. 

The night almost stole the soft words away; he would have missed them, amongst the hoot of owls and the thrum of cars in the streets below, if not for his complete inability to tear his eyes away from her face. He caught her hand before she could pull it away, squeezing gently in acknowledgement. 

It meant a lot, coming from her, but the lump in his throat had reappeared and there were no words he could use to express it. She silently squeezed his hand back, then pulled him to his feet.

It was almost a full week later that Keyleth stumbled into Gilmore in a small, sunny coffee shop. 

The place wasn’t busy. She’d left university earlier than she’d intended to, the sky outside bright blue enough to tempt her to slide her notebook and laptop into her bag and lock her office door behind her, and the streets she’d been wandering through were quiet. Most people in the neighbourhood seemed to be out at work, or otherwise occupied.

Except for the man in front of her, it seemed.

Gilmore reached out to take the steaming paper cup that was passed over the counter to him, giving Keyleth a fraction of a moment to tame her surprise before he caught sight of her. Not that she utilised it - when he did turn back and come face to face with her, all that fell from her lips was a surprised, unprepared, “Gilmore.”

He blinked, eyebrows creeping up as his gaze flickered over her. The shock disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared, instantly replaced by warmth when he noticed who stood between him and the coffee shop’s door. He had kind eyes, she decided. The type that you could fall into without a second thought. It was no surprise, really, that the eighteen-year-old version of Vax she’d known had fallen so willingly into his orbit.

 “Keyleth,” Gilmore said, with an easy smile. His palm curled around his drink as he passed it from his left hand to his right. “I see you’ve become acquainted with the best coffee in Whitestone. Let me guess - Vex?” 

“Percy, actually,” said Keyleth, trying not to think about the fact that with the current, uncomfortable distance between her and Vex, Vex would probably rather drink shitty instant coffee for weeks than direct Keyleth to a precious, favourite coffee shop. 

“Ah, yes,” said Gilmore. “This place truly saw that boy through his Engineering degree.” For all the jovial, conversational ease of his words, Gilmore tilted his head a little, the look in his eyes sharp, as though he could see something uncertain wavering in Keyleth no matter how little he knew her. Whatever it was he was searching for, whether he found it or not, the momentary lapse in conversation lasted barely a beat before Gilmore said, “Are you in a rush anywhere? With all of us scattered across the city doing very boring, adult things, I never find myself running into anyone for a spontaneous coffee anymore.” 

“Oh,” said Keyleth, the words tumbling out a little clumsily. “You want to - with me?” 

“If you want,” said Gilmore. “After all I’ve heard about you, it would be nice to talk to you properly. Especially without Grog, Kash and Scanlan doing tequila shots on top of the dining table.” 

Keyleth snorted with laughter, perhaps more so at the memory of Grog falling ass over tea kettle onto the ground after three shots, but the amusement relaxed the tense tug of her shoulders. “Yeah,” she said with a shy smile. “That’d be nice.” 

Gilmore’s light-hearted, kind-eyed, mischievous-smiled generosity from the party was just as alluring and comforting now, if a little more mellow. It was easy to see why her friends were so enamoured by everything about him, by his sincerity and sense of fun and the warmth in his eyes. It unexpectedly dragged Keyleth’s thoughts right back to the way Vax had perched nervously beside her on the roof the week before, his fingers tapping against his wrist as the party wound down beneath them while he carefully, anxiously probed for her thoughts on Gilmore, braced for some kind of judgement that she would never have given him. Vax was so transparent sometimes, and she wouldn’t have needed to know him half as well as she did to see that he wanted badly for her and Gilmore to like each other. 

Which was how she ended up sitting at the furthest table from the counter, her oat latte in a mug on the table in front of her, rather than in the reusable cup that lived in the bottom of her bag. 

A large, emerald-green monstera sat on the floor in the corner of the room in a chipped terracotta pot, and a string of pearls draped haphazardly down from the window ledge, just brushing the edge of their table. The spider plants that lined the rest of the windowsill were thriving, too, almost glowing in the golden light that made its way to them. Gilmore sank down into the seat opposite her with a warm, easy smile. “So,” he said, arms resting on the worn, sun-dappled wooden table between them. “How’s your day been?”

He was so easy to talk to. She’d come a long way from the teenager who could barely manage to string sentences together with strangers, but getting to know people had never come easily to her without her friends there to act as a buffer. It felt oddly natural, though, to be sitting here in the sunlight that flickered through the cafe windows and explaining the section of her research proposal that had been occupying her every waking thought this past week, absent-mindedly mentioning a journal article she’d been meaning to read, answering Gilmore’s surprisingly specific questions about her PhD and the way it followed on from her previous research, getting distracted by a train of thought about the distribution of alpine cliff ferns before she caught herself mid-sentence, cheeks flushing. 

“Those are native to Zephrah, right?” Gilmore asked, with genuine curiosity.

Which was a completely, utterly bizarre piece of knowledge for him to have. Except - 

Except she remembered going on hikes in her last year of high school, on weekends when the itch of the city and everything within it had wormed beneath both of the twins’ skin, making Vex quieter and withdrawn, and Vax restless. Her dad had never minded them taking the car, and it had grown even easier, once Pike and Grog had both passed their driving tests too, to take spontaneous trips out to the woods, or the lakes, or the closest thing to mountains they could get to, with a picnic packed in the boot of the car and and a trail map tucked into Vex’s rucksack.

It must have been towards the end of those final few months in Emon that she’d found a small patch of ferns whilst out on one of their hikes, growing on an exposed, rocky patch of hillside. She remembered pointing them out to Vax, her fingers gently unfurling leaves after she tugged him down to crouch beside her, unnoticed by the others as they walked on ahead. The intrigue in his eyes, the way he’d listened to her talk about how her mother always said the sturdy, stubborn little plants reminded her of home. 

When he pulled a small illustrated book of Zephran plants from her bookshelf weeks later and found the fern embossed onto the front cover, he’d run his finger reverently over the ridges, and asked to borrow it with a curiosity that meant even more, right then, when they’d already known she was leaving.

“It grows here?” she asked, and Gilmore nodded.

“Here and there - it must have been introduced, at some point.”

Keyleth traced the grain of the wooden table with her thumb. There was no doubt about it, but Keyleth couldn’t help the question from slipping out. “Vax?” she asked quietly.

She watched realisation flicker through Gilmore’s eyes, as if he’d only just caught on. A lump grew in Keyleth’s throat at the thought of Vax scattering pieces of knowledge around, pieces of her around, in conversations with someone he cared so much about.

It didn’t need confirming. Gilmore left her to her thoughts, until she swallowed, and his head tilted slightly to the left. “They’re something you’re studying?” he asked.

“I … not exactly. Although, perhaps they could be, I think they’d link -” It said something about how deeply Keyleth was already buried in her research, that she didn’t really notice that the ramble that followed her winding, curious, slightly distracted train of thought was to someone who, for all intents and purposes, should have no idea what the fuck she was talking about. But Gilmore kept up in the way the others in the house seemed to have learned to do with Vax’s research. Gilmore’s questions were unwaveringly interested and unexpectedly knowledgeable and to Keyleth’s own surprise, it was oddly touching.  

Of course Gilmore, bound to Vax’s life and heart and sense of self (in a way Keyleth could never be and would never want to be), had asked enough to understand the foundations of his - and by extension, with how much their research overlapped, her - PhD.

The conversation moved on with an ease Keyleth would never have expected. Gilmore had questions about Zephrah and her choice to move here to Whitestone, and the curve of his smile as he asked was an unspoken reassurance that he understood the subconscious things that had tugged her in this direction far better than she could explain. The handful of the blanks Friday had left in her mind were filled as they talked, and he answered plenty of her own questions about his work (a large antique store on the far end of town, with a side of political activism), where he was living (a flat a few streets away, about fifteen minutes from their own place), his connections to the group (various and far reaching, seemingly, although he’d originally befriended Vax and Zahra).

Keyleth curled her fingers around her coffee cup and blew on the surface of her now lukewarm latte, leaning back in her chair. The chimes on the cafe door twinkled softly as people began to come in and out for post-work pick-me-ups, with the occasional dog walker meandering in and briefly attracting the attention of everyone in the cafe. Her phone vibrated in her pocket incessantly - most likely the nearly-always-in-use house group chat she’d been added into - and she flicked it onto mute. 

Gilmore had trustworthy eyes, she decided. Perhaps that was why he felt like someone familiar rather than a stranger she’d only met once before, like their conversation had the right and the expectation to teeter on the verge of something more vulnerable, something Keyleth would usually never share with near-strangers. Although if she was more honest with herself, that was also Vax. The shape of his smile and comfort of his laugh entwined into an invisible thread tying her and Gilmore together. The warmth in Vax’s gaze when she’d caught sight of him chatting to Gilmore on the other side of the room last Friday, mid-party, how he’d leaned into Gilmore’s personal space with an ease the eighteen year old who still occupied the corners of her mind never would have allowed himself, the joy in his expression as he’d tugged Scanlan onto the dance floor. Vax’s laughter and delight and that beautiful deep blue nail polish, and the glint of streetlights in his eyes as they’d talked up on the roof.

She hadn’t quite had enough pieces to tie it together on Friday, but watching how casually Gilmore leant back against his chair, the soft yellow glow of the sunlit coffee shop making his dark skin glisten, pale golden eyeliner highlighting the matching flecks in his eyes, it was obvious where Vax had learnt the comfort he now had in his skin.

“Can I ask you something, Keyleth?” said Gilmore. 

Apprehension coiled in the base of Keyleth’s stomach but she nodded anyway, trying to lean into the warm, instinctive trust she felt towards the kind smile in front of her. 

“What’s your first memory of the twins?” 

Keyleth blinked in surprise. “I guess -” It cut off with a hushed, fond laugh. “I guess it must have been seventh grade Art class.” 

They’d existed to her before then, of course. While Emon was a big, buzzing, sprawling city, for those Emon born and raised, things usually stayed familiar, predictable, and someone always had an ear to the ground of what might be changing. Keyleth remembered the chatter whispered behind locker doors and in hushed gossip in the back rows of classrooms, curious eyes across the cafeteria as everyone tried to get a read on the Vessar twins. Syldor Vessar’s estranged children, yanked out of a run-down, never-heard-of town a few years earlier, but never deigned to step foot in this part of the city, confined to Emon’s wealthiest, most exclusive suburb of Syngorn. That they were attending Emon State High School in the first place was a hotly discussed conspiracy within the first weeks of the school, everyone eager to know why on earth one of the richest men in the city would allow his children to slum it here . (This was the part of the city where kids played sport on the roads when traffic was quiet, where the law practice Keyleth’s father had worked at for most of Keyleth’s childhood had been primarily for immigration law. Keyleth had always been grateful that even when Korrin’s career took him to much wealthier circles, much more prestigious networks, he never made any indication to move them out of the neighbourhood Keyleth, her mother, and her father had all loved all of Keyleth’s life.) 

But as it had turned out, the twins were nice. Reclusive, a little quieter than any twelve year olds had any real reason to be, but nice. Gossip about them quickly lost traction, moving on at rapid speed the way it always did in high school, and Vex and Vax faded into the blur of Keyleth’s seventh grade periphery in the months that followed. 

That the twins could ever have faded away from Keyleth’s mind and attention felt abhorrent now, unbelievable. They were both so vibrant , so alive with warmth and fierceness and resilience, captivating in a way that Keyleth had never known how to look away from. How she ever had then, she didn’t know. 

Except that she did. She had been twelve, and they were nobody she had any reason to pay attention to. 

And in the space between starting high school, growing several inches, trying not to fail Math, and wondering whether she had a crush on a guy named Callan who had nice, messy hair and smiled at her during P.E., somewhere in all the messiness, suddenly, her mother was dying. 

It was after spring break, that art class. 

After the strange haze of the funeral, after Keyleth had learned for the first time what it felt like to have her chest hollowed open and heart carved into with grief. After the last of the winter chill seemed to thaw from the frosty sidewalks and crisp air. 

They’d been meant to do something with clay, Keyleth remembered. But some eighth grade boys had started a clay fight yesterday during lunch and there was none leftover for Keyleth’s class and while assumedly, there must have been something else they could do, Keyleth’s art teacher had decided it wasn’t worth it. It was a warm day, a tantalising hint of the summer months to come and all the students were restless and rowdy. The dramatics of spring break flings and break-ups - with all their seventh and eighth grade world-stopping importance - were taking precedence for pretty much everyone Keyleth knew. She felt so far away from it all. It wasn’t like she was anyone particularly special in the social stratifications of her grade, or the school, or her neighbourhood, but she’d grown up with most of these kids, was liked enough, friendly enough, happy enough. Or had been. Now, it was like she was floating away, fading into the blur and whirl of high school until the sharp, viscous tug of grief brought her hurtling back down to the ground. 

Their art teacher that year had been one of those who wore big, colourful cardigans and chunky glasses. She had long hair, always tied up but tight coils of curls that Keyleth had been deeply envious of. She’d been young, as far as Keyleth’s teachers went - early to mid 30s, probably. And she had been the one to change Keyleth’s life. 

Keyleth was painting Pike’s nails. Pike had asked her to, when the class had been informed that this was now a study period. The other girls at their table promptly moved to find a spot closer to the boys they’d apparently gone on a double date with over break, and Pike made a long-suffering, exasperated noise that seemed more than a little tinged with relief. It almost made Keyleth smile. 

“Our teacher told them already,” Keyleth explained to Gilmore. “So that they knew why they were being deposited at a desk with two girls they didn’t know, I guess?” 

“What did they say?” asked Gilmore, his eyes soft with curiosity. It occurred to Keyleth that after all these years of knowing the twins, knowing Pike and Grog, it had probably been a long time since Gilmore had heard any new stories about them, seen them from a new perspective. 

Keyleth glanced down at her hands, curled around her mug. Her slightly chipped nail polish was the same dark green of the leaves of the tree out her bedroom window in Zephrah. Nothing nearly as immaculate as the perfect gels the twins had gotten together the morning of the party.  “Vex asked me to paint her nails,” she said with a smile. “Syldor never let her, he thought it was tacky. But he was overseas for work for a full two weeks and it was the most freedom Vex and Vax had had since they first moved to Emon. So Vex asked if I could paint her nails.” 

“Was she anything like she is now?” said Gilmore with a grin. 

“You know what?” said Keyleth. “Yeah. She was. Even through whatever haze I was in back then, she was kind of terrifying, in an enormously cool kind of way. Like some force of nature that could probably kill you if you get too close, but you can’t look away, and you just want to be as close to it as you can for as long as it's there.” It ached as she said it, thinking about the way Vex looked away from her now, the cold shoulder, the indifference and hurt that had carved out a seemingly endless space between them. 

Gilmore hummed. “That’s Vex, alright.” 

“And Vax …” Keyleth exhaled, the memory of it so tightly wound into the fabric of her skin that for a moment, paint and nail polish replaced the smell of coffee lingering in the air, her beautiful wooden chair and table became tacky plastic and fraying lamination, the cafe’s chatter turning into the raucousness of a seventh grade classroom. “Vax was Vax. He didn’t blink, he didn’t flinch, he didn’t tiptoe around it. He just said, ‘If your mom was still here, what would you most want to talk to her about?’ I think I must’ve stared at him like he’d grown a second head or something. Vex gave him this look that was probably meant to be like ‘hey, twelve-year-old-idiot-tactless-brother-of-mine, maybe be more chill.’” 

Gilmore snorted but his eyes were even more gentle than they had been before. 

“But I didn’t want chill. People had been trying to sidestep talking about her and keeping me at some kind of tentative distance like I was a bomb about to explode.” Keyleth shrugged. “Later, Pike said I talked more during that class than I had since before Mom died. And right before the bell rang, Vax asked if I could paint his nails too. So I did. And both the twins kept the terrible, god-awful, sparkly gold polish on right until the day before Syldor came back.” 

“I think that certainly says a lot about the person you were to them, as much as who they were to you,” said Gilmore thoughtfully. 

It made Keyleth pause. She’d never really thought about that first day of knowing Vex and Vax as her doing anything for them ; all she’d really remembered it as was the day the clawing, suffocating bubble of grief finally burst. 

“You met them at the start of university, right?” she asked, and Gilmore nodded. 

In the same way Gilmore had reached to her for a piece of Vex and Vax he’d never known, Keyleth too was desperately curious. This in-between was a chunk of time she’d missed in its entirety; the person Vax (and Vex) had been back then was an unknown to her - although, unknown in the way of a daydream, or a future chapter in a novel, or a lingering scent in the air. 

“Second week,” he confirmed.

Such a short time after she’d left.

He’d evidently been Vax’s … steadiness. His friend. But far more importantly than that, perhaps: someone Vax had trusted, with every fiber of his being. Someone he entrusted with his vulnerability, his anger, his shame, his grief, his heartbreak - 

Keyleth’s breath caught on an inhale. Wait. 

Her gaze instinctively darted to Gilmore, though how he’d know what she was thinking was beyond her, but he seemed to just have that kind of insane intuition. Then just as rapidly, she looked back down to the table. She didn’t need to see his face for confirmation, whether he’d read her sudden panic or not. It had already been there, all of it, from the moment she met him. 

Vax had trusted Gilmore with his secrets the same way he had once done with Keyleth. 

Vax might not have told anyone who was family to her about her last night in Emon, but Gilmore -

She was instantly and unwaveringly sure of it. If there was anyone in this city who had the full story of what happened between her and Vax, it was him. It had to be him. 

She pushed her coffee mug an inch further from the edge of the table, so that it sat in front of a small pot of sugar sachets and stirrers, and swallowed the sudden roar of deafening, churning uncertainty.

“You said last week that you’d heard a lot about me,” she said carefully, proud of how even her voice stayed. “How much?”

A long, thoughtful pause followed. The question was light, deliberately so, and surprisingly, Keyleth found that the weight of it didn’t increase as the silent seconds ticked onwards. If anything, it was the reverse, although Keyleth had no idea whether to attribute that to Gilmore, Vax, the person she’d grown into, or some combination of all three.

“A lot,” Gilmore eventually admitted, quiet, but an acknowledgement all the same. He said it with equal ease, nothing beyond honest, but his gaze held hers. “More than your other friends, I believe.”

Keyleth nodded, then exhaled. 

The strength of the relief that washed through her caught her off guard, but it continued to multiply as Gilmore’s meaning sank further through her skin. Someone, at the very least, knew the truth of how much she’d hurt Vax. Someone had known as it was happening, had quietly and deliberately picked up the pieces. She was grateful for the way Vax’s choices had allowed her to rekindle friendships without that mess coming in between it all; it was a selflessness she would never be able to thank him enough for. But the thought of her best friend, full of endless love to give and so desperate to fly free, left fast asleep in bed and waking up alone, locking that night so deeply inside himself that there was no one to mention it to, made her chest split open with a grief and guilt that was too enormous for her to stare down. It was a selfish relief Keyleth hadn’t even thought she needed, knowing that he had found someone unconnected to it all who he could trust with the pieces of his heart she’d played with.

Someone he could trust with himself, too.

He’d expanded the family of four he’d turned up to Whitestone with six years ago and found such good people, who he could show his heart and his uncertainty and his buzzing, bone-deep craving for a life outside of Emon to. People who could tug him headfirst into a world full of bright lights and dancing and warm arms around waists, the history he’d never been able to own as his , the community he’d looked in on longingly from afar, now in the thick of it all with tequila shots and laughter and carrying his sorrow with pride, wearing clothes that made him look so much like himself - sort of like she’d seen Vex that first day, like an eclipse she didn’t know how to tear her eyes away from. Full of all of the life she could now see coursing through his veins.

“I worried about him,” she found herself saying unexpectedly.

“When you left?” 

“Through the years, too. Thinking about him - them - and not knowing whether they were okay, what kind of life they’d built and managed to hang onto. But mostly -” She smiled, and she felt the tears burning behind her eyelids, hoped maybe, Gilmore would pretend he hadn’t seen them. “Yeah. After I left.”

She’d imagined the new life he and Vex would have in Whitestone over and over again. She’d known Vex would thrive. But Vax …

“I feel like you know why,” she said quietly, and the creases at the corners of Gilmore’s eyes confirmed what she’d expected; he remembered first year Vax with crystal clarity. He couldn’t have been too far from her imagination of him, finally free but cut loose at the same time, stumbling headfirst into a desperate attempt to make his and Vex’s lives their own. Fiercely determined, stubbornly independent, but untethered, too, his feet slipping out from under him as Vex found hers and didn’t need to rely on him the same way she had before. Searching for things he knew were missing but wouldn’t have been able to find on his own.

Burning so brightly.

She tapped her fingers against the tabletop, thinking a little fondly of that restlessness in Vax that night on the roof, then stilled her own distracted fidgeting. She met Gilmore’s eyes, let her gaze skim slowly over his face, reading a history of drunken late nights, sweaty clubs, and freedom, then smiled. “I guess what I’m saying is just - I’m glad he had you.”

Chapter Text

Keyleth had never thought of herself as someone observant, but it had eventually become an unavoidable skill she needed for her research. She liked to think of herself as much calmer, much more sharp-eyed than she had been before going to Zephrah, but it was something else entirely to realise how differently she saw the world beyond her studies with older, keener eyes than she’d ever had before. Most notably, in relearning the people around her. 

Who they’d all been growing up in Emon had been such a strange melting pot of necessity and circumstance and faint, fleeting hope. Keyleth knew - had always known - that her experience of the city had been vastly different to all of her friends. For all the grief and tumult her family had experienced, Emon had always been kind to them. It was a rich, sprawling city, full of grit and bustle but somehow still so colourful and exciting. Every so often, Keyleth remembered to taste the sea air that wisped past in the breeze, remembered to take note of children’s laughter ringing out around her, remembered to capture the feeling of this place and time right now before it morphed into something new the way a metropolis like Emon always did. Zephrah had been so still in contrast. The mountains, the trees, the people, the traditions and old town halls and intricate libraries and generations-old storefronts - Zephrah was unmoving, steadfast. Like the streets Keyleth walked and the trees she studied at the base of and views she woke up to were the same as the ones her mother had grown up with all those years ago. She understood why her mom had loved it, and equally understood why she’d yearned to leave and been so taken by Emon. She’d been raised loving, and then grown up to fall in love, with the same things but in reverse.

In the end, Zephrah’s timeless, resilient promise of something slower and older and unchanging had been the first sparks of Keyleth’s early, undergraduate research. And six years later, the other side of it all, the fast-moving, ever-changing, ever-evolving world she’d grown up in had made her look back at Emon and Whitestone with a new, brimming curiosity. 

But for the rest of Keyleth’s friends, while far from the worst place to grow up, Emon had always come with its crosses to bear, ones that had only become heavier with each year that passed. 

Vex and Vax had never liked living with Syldor. He became all the more controlling in their teenage years, made worse than ever by his marriage to Devana. She came from an even wealthier background than him, and Syldor had no intention of ruining the affiliative ties she brought into his life with his ‘embarrassing, illegitimate children.’ Every effort Vex had ever made to be the daughter he wanted seemed to be more and more futile, not that it ever stopped her from trying. It only served to make Vax angrier, made him flighty and reckless, desperate to get out. 

Pike shared a fondness for the same parts of the city that Keyleth did - the coastline, the market stalls and bakeries, the rolling fields beyond the city’s borders - but her growing up in the city had never been planned, and had its own curls of bitterness attached. When her mother had gotten pregnant, barely out of high school herself and no idea who the father was, she’d committed to having the baby. Wilhand had come to Emon to help, despite the estranged relationship he had with his daughter. He hadn’t expected to be abandoned with a newborn, or for his daughter to all but disappear, showing up a mere handful of times throughout the years with late birthday gifts or indifferent cards. The minimal contact faded away once Pike grew into her big, blue eyes and front teeth, and Pike didn’t deem it worth the effort to chase someone who didn’t want to be there, but Keyleth knew it had stung.

Grog knew Emon better than most, having spent so much of his childhood and early teens shunted around foster homes in different areas of the city after being removed from his uncle’s care. He’d told her once, when they’d been sat in the school library putting together college applications, that he’d never expected to make it beyond the city boundaries. At fourteen, failing every class Pike wasn’t there to help him through now they were at high school, he’d been a hair's breadth away from dropping out and allowing himself to be dragged back down to the depths his uncle and cousins had chosen. The criminal underbelly of the city had been calling, and with nothing to his name and no future he could see ahead of him, the siren song seemed futile to resist. It was only Wilhand’s intervention that prevented it. Without the warm, steady home, the dyslexia testing Wilhand had signed him up for, and the unwavering belief both Pike and her grandpa had in him, Emon would have chewed him up in a heartbeat. 

Keyleth wasn’t sure any of them - her included - had noticed the parts of themselves that had skittered away into the safest, darkest depths of their hearts, beaten down by grief and tension and expectation, but it was suddenly so strikingly obvious now. As though she had completed some kind of loop now, finding herself back somewhere she had forgotten about. Where Pike had a kind but unyielding certainty to the set of her shoulders that she had lost somewhere around age fifteen. Where Grog and Vax weren’t shielding their hurt and insecurity behind buzzing, bubbling anger that made them impulsive and reckless, but were instead full of such warmth and sincerity, confidence in who they were growing into. In Vax, it was an ease to the set of his shoulders, a light in his eyes that Keyleth remembered catching intoxicating glimpses of back when she’d first met him, only for it to dim over the years that followed. Where the softer edges Vex had so rarely let anyone see - even Keyleth, back then - were back in smiles she shot to Percy every now and then, crinkled warmth at the corners of her eyes and a lightness tugging at her features that was starkly unfamiliar to the Vex Keyleth had known all those years. 

She’d thought she knew them at eighteen, but they were so much more now.

She knew she was, too. The person she remembered being when she’d been in Emon felt so small to her now, someone who was still curled so tightly into her shell and didn’t have a solid grasp on how to get to the places she wanted to be, or what the world could have in store for her. Her world, her city had been comfortable, a shelter and a haven and a home. Leaving that had seemed unimaginable for a long time, and then only possible with the promise of her friends by her side. It was impossible now not to feel a curl of fondness at the thought of that version of herself: shy, hesitant, trying her best but so very full of uncertainty. Taking steps that she wasn’t sure were in the right direction, but that she’d eventually started to believe in as the years passed by and she little by little found the pieces she’d been wanting along the way.

She felt like that nervous girl now, as she stared into the mirror. 

It would help, Keyleth thought with mounting frustration, if she could just do her fucking braids right, because despite spending six years with the family she was about to get dinner with, she still felt that she had something to prove. 

Or perhaps, she wanted to prove something new. That this move to Whitestone had been worth it, that she’d finally found her way back to something here that she’d painfully given up to be in Zephrah in the first place, that she got to carry both - all - of these parts of herself together now, that she was growing into a new version of herself that they didn’t know yet. 

Maybe that was a lot of weight to be putting on a hairstyle. 

She huffed, hot air sending loose strands flying as she combed auburn tresses back with her fingertips until she was back where she had started, nearly half an hour ago. 

It was silly to be nervous. But most of her mother’s family hadn’t been over this way on the map since her mom died and she’d certainly never thought her grandparents ever would again. It was such a big deal that Keyleth’s dad was coming too (though he’d come to Whitestone under the guise of wanting to see how she was settling in). Even without the fact that this was going be the first time Keyleth, her dad, and her mom’s family had all been in the same room since her mom’s funeral, Korrin had never really got along particularly well with Vilya’s family and the thought of sitting through the entire evening to come made Keyleth sweat. It had never really occurred to her when she was younger, that she’d only ever been to Zephrah as a baby and her mom’s family had never come to Emon. Korrin had never visited her in the time she’d been away either, and Keyleth wouldn’t have wanted him to. Not with the way her grandfather’s jaw clenched and her grandmother’s eyes hardened whenever Keyleth talked in any great detail about her dad. 

Keyleth weaved a portion of hair beneath the other two and twisted, trying to keep the tension even. It would be fine, she told herself firmly, a strand of hair slipping from her fingers. They were all adults. Korrin had managed fifteen years of marriage to Vilya without any dramatic fall out with her parents. He could manage one dinner, and so could they, for Keyleth’s sake. And Derrig and Nel would be there, which they truly didn’t need to be but they’d been just as eager to see Keyleth and hear about her new life in Whitestone, and admittedly, within all the dread, seeing them was one thing Keyleth was truly excited for. Everything else was just niggling, squirming, building doubt in the base of her stomach and the nerves fluttering beneath her fingertips. 

She sighed and let the half-completed, uneven braids fall to her shoulders, then combed roughly through her hair again with a force that solved not a single one of her problems. Her teeth caught her tongue, digging in with frustration and what felt humiliatingly like tears. No. She was older. She was an adult. She’d grown into someone new. She was living a cool, exciting, impressive life with people she had loved since she was a kid. What did any of that mean if she couldn’t even do her fucking hair - 

A dull knock thudded against Keyleth’s open door, startling Keyleth so suddenly that she nearly punched herself in the face as she yanked her hand down from her hair and whirled around. 

Vax stood in her doorway, leaning against the doorframe. The last time Keyleth had seen him like this was their high school graduation. She also somewhat suspected that had been the last time he’d worn something like this, full stop. 

A crisp, white shirt followed the lines of his shoulders and her gaze flickered down across his smart black trousers, then back up to the untied bow-tie tucked beneath his collar, hanging loosely at the front. What did surprise her, though, was the lack of Vax’s now-patent dark eyeliner and the soft shimmer of subtle, glittery eyeshadow he donned whenever venturing out into any kind of adventure beyond their normal, everyday routines. Thankfully, a series of small silver rings adorned his fingers - though not the thick, funky ones he’d once made at a jewellery making workshop with Gilmore and Zahra - and a delicate chain hung against his collarbones, just visible beneath his collar. Without them, he looked so strikingly like the Vax of Keyleth’s memory that her stomach flipped with a different kind of nauseating uncertainty. 

Even without the suit jacket, his slicked back, intricately braided hair and the sharp line of his jaw and the way his clothes made his dark eyes seem to sparkle - 

He looked like he’d stepped straight out of a James Bond movie and Keyleth firmly pressed her lips together. The only thing worse than standing here in an outfit she was starting to doubt after staring at herself in the mirror this long and messy, unbraided, starting-to-frizz hair and makeup that would’ve been a million times better if Vex liked her enough these days to offer to help, was Vax seeing her like this as he stood there, dapper and dressed to the nines, glowing in that absolutely breathtaking way of his, and about to take another girl on a date. 

Apparently, as Keyleth had discovered recently, Vax had been talking to a girl named Sara over the summer. It was a casual thing, Pike had explained last week with a careful, curious look in her eyes that Keyleth had to actively pretend not to see. But they’d been in classes together back in undergrad, and Sara had moved back to Whitestone after a couple of years of travelling the world since graduating. 

She sounded very cool. Keyleth sort of wanted to set her on fire. 

“Wow,” Keyleth said before she could stop herself, immediately flushing. “You uh … you look - ” Heat crept into her cheeks and she hoped desperately - futilely, probably - that it wasn’t visible beneath her makeup. “Nice. Very, um … fancy.” 

Vax smiled, but it was tinged with something a little unsure, a little apologetic. Keyleth wondered, for a moment, whether he felt the absence of his eye makeup, his regular jewellery, in the same way she missed seeing it on him. He scratched the back of his neck. “If me having to steal a tie from Scanlan is any indication, I’m not really used to this kind of thing.”

“It suits you,” Keyleth said, hoping it was reassuring even though she wasn’t really sure she believed it herself. If she wasn’t so distracted herself, she was sure she’d have some surer promises, more sincere advice to offer. 

As it was, the words hung in the air, suspended between breaths, and something unreadable passed behind Vax’s eyes. “Thank you,” he said quietly. 

His gaze lingered on her, flickering to the mirror, then the strands of hair she’d dropped defeatedly back down to lie flat against her scalp moments before he’d interrupted. It gave the vague impression he’d been watching her for a little while before announcing his presence. He reached up to smooth the black silk of his borrowed bowtie where it lay flat against his shirt.

“You look nice too,” he said, much more sincere than she had been. A different type of heat rose in her chest and she laughed a little awkwardly, looking down and frowning as she tried to smooth out a rumple in her shirt. 

“Thanks?” She didn’t mean for it to come out as a question. 

Vax tilted his head slightly. “Nervous?” 

Keyleth hesitated, just for a moment. He could see right through her anyway, she knew he could.  “I feel sick,” she admitted quietly with a small nod. “I can’t even do my hair, my hands are so jittery.”

She couldn’t shake the feeling that this dinner was going to be a disaster and for every second that passed by she could feel her nerves flickering in her chest, in time with the beat of her pulse.

Korrin had explained, once or twice, that Vilya’s parents had never approved of him. While it never made sense to Keyleth as a child because her father was the best and Vilya loved him completely and her parents loved her , she’d accepted it without question. Keyleth was sure that Vilya’s death certainly hadn’t helped that situation, but her grandparents’ lack of effort to ever see Keyleth in Emon had led to uncharacteristic resentment in Korrin. They could more than afford it, and they were unhesitatingly adoring toward all their other grandchildren. Keyleth’s teenage naivety had awarded them the benefit of the doubt; she was the only grandchild this far away, hopefully her going to Zephrah would build a stronger relationship and change things. 

And it had. She loved her grandparents, truly. But she wasn’t sure what was so different now that they would make the trip they’d refused on for over twenty years just to see her. Had spending six years near them, in Zephrah, really bridged that gap? The prickle on Keyleth’s arms wouldn’t settle, unease tugging in her gut that there was something else. 

Vax studied her thoughtfully. “Want me to do it?”

“You would?”

Vax nodded. “‘Course.” 

She wasn’t sure how to respond, still caught somewhere between how stunning he looked, the thought of him dressed up for Sara , and the feeling that she was drowning in a huge, endless chasm between Emon and Zephrah. He crossed the distance between her doorway and mirror easily and nudged her back to face her mirror, not saying anything else but reaching for a few hairbands and sliding them onto his wrist. Then, like he’d done it a thousand times before, began to part her hair.  

He had done it before, she reasoned - plenty of times. He just hadn’t done it in six years, since everything that happened between them, since she left him asleep and flew across the country and didn’t give him the chance to say goodbye. And yet, he was so gentle. She tucked one leg beneath herself and watched in the mirror as he began to recreate the intricate crown braids she’d been trying and failing to weave by herself, his motions steady and practised. His gaze didn’t stray from her hair. 

Hers didn’t stray from the mirror.

It wasn’t until he’d finished one braid and moved onto the second that he quietly asked “Is it seeing them you’re nervous about, or the memories it’ll bring up?”

Keyleth chewed on her lower lip as uncertainty swirled, and Vax rested his hand briefly on her shoulder as he leaned over to pick up some hair clips. She missed his touch as soon as it disappeared, but his fingertips moved to comb hair from her temple instead. 

“All of it,” she admitted. Vax hummed under his breath but stayed silent. She watched his steady motions for a while longer before managing to summon the courage she wanted, because if there was anyone she wanted to be honest with, it was him. “Talking with her family makes me want to run back to Zephrah again,” she said softly, the simplest truth she could put to words, “and I don’t want to. I want to be here with you guys, I want all of it. The research for Tal’dorei Ecological, my thesis, everything about this place I always imagined. Finding a place for myself here with you all after wondering what it could be like for six whole years. Zephrah has so much of my heart, but I don’t want to be scared and homesick for a place that was only part of a home, or end up chasing more from it when there’s not more to find.”

She looked down to her fingernails, painted deep emerald green for the occasion, and ran her thumb gently over the paint to feel the texture. The comfortable silence of her bedroom held, and she looked back up.

“You always understood why I needed to go,” she said softly, and for the first time Vax’s fingers stilled as he met her gaze in the mirror. Keyleth exhaled softly. “I found exactly what I was looking for there. And now I want to see what there is to find here, too.”

Vax neatly pinned the second braid into place, then moved and perched against the edge of her desk, facing her. His eyes flickered briefly to her earrings - a gift handmade by Pike when they’d still been in high school, beautiful pale green and white beads, hanging like droplets - then returned to her face. There was something still in his expression that she couldn’t quite pinpoint, that ever elusive flicker she couldn’t recognise, even after all these weeks of seeing him up close every day, seeing the shape of his laughter and the sleepy, heavy-lidded softness of him late at night and the sparks of his stress and frustration. She was trying not to think about whatever it was in him that she didn’t know anymore, perhaps would never know. 

“Whatever this family dinner is, or isn’t,” he said quietly, “We’ll all still be here to remind you you have a family with us.”

Family. “I’ve not even been back two months, Vax,” Keyleth couldn’t help saying. Vax shook his head. She caught a flicker of hurt, and wished she hadn’t.

“So what?” he said with that familiar, defiant challenge of his. “You’ve always had a family with us. I wish -” He stopped abruptly, the words disappearing into a loud, heavy exhale. A silent apology hovered behind his eyes. Keyleth couldn’t find the words to tell him he didn’t need it.  “Pike and Percy are staying in this evening, and the rest of us will all be here in the morning too. If you need to hear me say that again, I will. Over and over.”

She’d never known what to do with his sincerity in moments like this so she nodded, and swallowed the lump in her throat. Vax lightly took her chin in his hand, tilting her head first left, then right, his fingers warm and steady against her skin. After a moment, his lips twitched upward. “Your hair looks amazing,” he said matter-of-factly. “Salon quality, in fact.” 

Relief crashed over Keyleth as she jumped to latch onto the mellowed conversation, the olive branch of easy, joking banter. “Oh yeah?”

He chuckled, offering a hand to help her up. “You gotta tell me the name of your hairdresser. Does he do birthdays or it just big, daunting family dinners?”

“Great question, feel like I’m gonna have some conferences I’ll need him for.” 

“Better book him in in advance.” 

Keyleth snorted softly and reached out to straighten his collar, then smoothed a light crease from the fabric. “Vax,” she said softly, the laughter fading from her voice so that genuine emotion could bleed through. “Thank you.”

Vax smiled at her, a little crooked but warm in every way it could be. “Anytime, Kiki.”

Everything dissolved from polite, amicable civility so fucking fast. 

The restaurant was a classy one, chosen by her grandparents for its cosily-lit interior and excellent reviews, which the delicious scents swirling through the air and a glance towards the dishes people on other tables had selected seemed to confirm. Rich, buttery prawns laid on a bed of fresh greens, thinly-sliced potatoes slathered in a creamy, herb-speckled sauce, steaming, freshly baked bread with assortments of oils and vinegars.

She’d been swept into her grandmother’s arms the moment she'd bumped into her outside the restaurant, enveloped by the now familiar lily-rose-hayacinth of her perfume, and the scent had lingered even after the embrace ended. Her grandparents seemed genuinely delighted to see her, and Derrig and Nel’s warmth as they took their seats at the table seemed like it could thaw any lingering frost, despite the tension Keyleth could see in the faint lines around her dad’s eyes. 

Starters were ordered, glasses were filled by wait staff in crisp shirts and waistcoats, questions were asked about her move and how she was settling in. Keyleth allowed herself to be absorbed into the conversation, lulled into a false sense of security.

All it took was one, stupid, unnecessary, passive aggressive comment from her grandmother. 

“It really is unbelievable that it’s taken us this long to do this, it’s been lovely. Though perhaps that was only to be expected, Korrin, when you stole Vilya away to the far reaches of Emon.” 

The only for her to then die here that followed went unspoken, but every person at the table heard it regardless, and tension settled among them all like a thick blanket of snow. Unmelting. 

Keyleth’s hand tightened on her fork as she glanced over at her father. 

Most people who knew both her parents said that Keyleth got her passion and fire from her mom. Very few people recognised the spark Keyleth got from her dad. She saw the dangerous glint of it in his eyes now and stiffened in her chair. 

“I suppose,” Korrin said a little coolly, “that stealing my daughter away to Zephrah for all of her adult life until now was recompense, then?” 

Vilya’s father - who Keyleth personally liked a whole lot more than her grandmother - gave Korrin a look that seemed to rest somewhere between gently insistent and disparagingly exasperated. It made Keyleth hackles rise in her father’s defense. “Come now, Korrin, don’t be silly. It’s not as though Keyleth could replace Vilya. We just wanted the opportunity to get to know her better.” 

Korrin arched an eyebrow at his mother-in-law. “But that was what you wanted out of it, wasn’t it? To mould Keyleth into being her mother?” 

Keyleth, who’d attempted to take a large sip of champagne to, at the very least, tug her thoughts away from whatever the hell this was turning into, found her gaze snapping to her father in shock. “ What? ” 

“She deserved the chance to reconnect with her mother and the legacy Vilya had left behind!” Keyleth’s grandmother said sharply. 

“She could have done that at any point in her life, on her own terms!” Korrin shot back. “She had plans of her own, plans you and I destroyed because of the ultimatum you gave me. Well, now that we’re on the other side of you getting exactly what you wanted, you may as well tell me. Would you have done it? Would you have withheld the inheritance Vilya left Keyleth if Keyleth hadn’t come to Zephrah for university?” 

Keyleth’s heart dropped into her stomach. “What?” she said again, this time hoarser, quieter, and she wasn’t even sure her father or grandmother heard. She wasn’t sure she wanted them to. 

Nel moved a hand to Keyleth’s knee comfortingly. 

“Maybe this isn’t the time -” Derrig tried to interject. 

“You had every right to tell her at any time that’s what this was all about,” Keyleth’s grandmother said, still looking only at Korrin. 

“Well of course I wasn’t going to!” Korrin hissed furiously, “because then why would she have gone? You didn’t know her - all you knew were life updates through monthly phone calls that Keyleth initiated half the time. You knew nothing about the kind of person she was, and I was never going to make her feel like she was some kind of transactional arrangement!” 

“Need I remind you that she is at the table right now?” Nel said with glimmers of her own anger starting to make her voice shake, the way water rippled in the breeze. 

Nobody appeared to hear her. 

As Korrin’s raised voice hurtled across the table, as Keyleth’s grandmother sharply lanced back with a vicious bite in her voice, as Nel’s hand rested firm and desperately reassuring on Keyleth’s leg, Keyleth stared down at her plate and wondered, ridiculously, somewhat hysterically, if she’d ever be able to eat prawns again without feeling the nauseating, acidic, broken disbelief lurching in the pit of her stomach the way it was right now. 

Korrin narrowed his eyes. “You got what you wanted in the end,” he said bitingly. “But I gave her the real reasons to go. And she loved being there - raved about it every time she came home - and I’ve seen that it turned her into a better version of herself. I’m glad she got that, I’m glad she got to know you all and connect with Vilya and I can promise you, I’m not bitter about the fact that you won, even if it doesn’t sound like it. But you don’t get to act like she’s following in her mother’s footsteps, or that she or Vilya betrayed you by leaving Zephrah. Keyleth came back to Whitestone because she chose to, and god knows she deserved to finally make that choice for herself and you don’t get to take that away from her, not this time.” 

Finally, finally , the table fell silent. 

Keyleth wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or scream or both. At some point, Nel’s hand had tightened on her knee, added to with a hand on Keyleth’s shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, Keyleth could see Derrig giving her father and grandmother severe what the fuck is wrong with you both stares, an expression Keyleth had only previously seen in home movies when he’d discovered any combination of his children being menaces. Keyleth preferred when it had been a look that made her laugh, rather than … whatever this was. 

Korrin’s eyes found Keyleth. She could feel them, even without glancing up to meet his gaze. She couldn’t have, even if she’d wanted to, because she knew the guilt that would be there. And in the same way that they were always used to getting the last word, her grandparents quickly launched back into conversation, finally deigning Keyleth worthy of being spoken to directly as they tried to explain themselves. 

Keyleth couldn’t hear it, everything was just roaring in her ears, guilt in all of their eyes, the overlapping sounds of different, selfish voices vying for her attention and the humiliating feeling of realising she might as well have still been a naive, oblivious child after all, every choice she thought she’d made in the name of growth and maturity and opportunity puppeteered by the people sitting around her. 

“I’m -” Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. It took several tries to remember how to use it. “I’m gonna go.” 

“Keyleth -” Korrin tried to say. 

Keyleth ignored him, snatched her bag and jacket from behind her chair, and walked as fast as she could from the table. The eyes of everyone else in the restaurant felt like they followed, waiting and watching for whether Keyleth made it out to the street before the tears caught up with her. 

She did. 

She also didn’t look back. 

His name fell from Keyleth’s lips in surprise the instant he opened the front door to her, and for the briefest of moments the world stood still. 

She still looked just as beautiful as she had before leaving earlier that evening. Her auburn hair was pinned up, still intricately woven into the perfect crown braids he’d done for her beforehand, and not a hair was out of place. The delicate necklace she’d said her aunt and uncle had bought her for her twenty-first birthday hung around her neck, golden pendant glinting as it caught the light, bright against the simple, classy black top she’d chosen.

Vax gave her a soft smile, but as he did, he watched something crumble. Keyleth’s throat bobbed as she swallowed and when she stepped into the house, Vax felt a leaden weight crawl into his stomach and settle there, heavy and foreboding. 

He’d desperately been hoping the uneasy feeling their earlier conversation had left behind had been unwarranted. Family was so complicated; everyone in this house knew that better than most. Vax had always been glad that Keyleth did have some kind of family to build bonds with, a father who was one of the best men Vax knew and a connection to her mother she’d actually had the chance to trace back. If he’d had to accept losing her all these years, it wouldn’t have been for anything less. He wanted her to at least have this, when leaving Zephrah and losing that piece of her mother was hard enough to be okay with.

She stood just beyond the still-open doorway with October threatening to follow her inside, and wiped her feet on the new doormat she, Pike, and Grog had picked out the week before. Hung her coat on the coat hooks beside Vex’s smart woollen one, beside his dark jacket and the zip-on outer layer Grog could attach to his tracksuit when he had training in the rain, beside several of Scanlan's weathered bomber jackets. Vax clicked the door shut. By the time Keyleth turned back around, tears were involuntarily beginning to pool against her eyelashes, glistening as they caught the warm orange light of the hallway. Vax blinked.

He’d first met Keyleth just after her mother died. He was familiar with her tears. But there was something about standing in the hallway of their house, on the worn but polished parquet floor, with no context for how Keyleth’s evening had been beyond a suspiciously early, abrupt message in their group chat about forgetting her keys, that momentarily caught him off guard.

His chest twisted painfully, six years caught between the beats of his heart. 

“You have family here,” he reminded quietly.

He wasn’t sure how she ended up in his arms. It didn’t seem to matter. As soon as she was there, the only thing he cared about was her fingers, curling tightly against the back of his shirt, her face, tucked into the crook of his neck. The way she shuddered when a warm palm rested in between her shoulder blades, like she wanted more than anything to curl up in a ball and fall apart but was trying her hardest not to. “That bad, huh?” he asked quietly.

Keyleth’s voice cracked. “Awful.”

When she inhaled shakily, Vax rested his chin lightly on top of her hair and curled his arms a little more tightly around her shoulders. He wasn’t sure if the warm, homely yellow lights of their hallway and the lingering scent of Pike’s pea and mushroom risotto were making things better or worse, so at the very least he would offer her all of the comfort he had to give. Or just a space to hide in, for as long as she wanted to before she inevitably had to resurface and face the world.

“You’re meant to be on a date,” Keyleth eventually mumbled into his shoulder.

He’d never been more glad he wasn’t. He’d felt awful about leaving; Sara was sweet and kind and interesting, and deserved a whole lot better. He’d argued with Vex about it earlier in the week; she’d claimed his heart wasn’t in it and he’d indignantly insisted otherwise, that it wouldn’t be fair on Sara to cancel so last minute and that he wouldn’t know, truly, what this could be if he didn’t follow through and spend time with her. But he knew for certain now, with Keyleth’s slightly unsteady breaths falling against his skin, that he wasn't meant to be on a date - he was meant to be right here. 

Percy laughed softly from the living room, the sound just barely reaching Vax’s ears. It made him smile, and pull Keyleth a little closer. Percy didn’t laugh like that when they first got to know each other. It had been this family, the shambles of a friendship group they all were to begin with, that had tugged it out of him. Kindness when it was needed, love when he would accept it. The occasional cancelled plans or cancelled dates on days he was convinced to talk, just to sit on the floor of their shitty first year halls and listen.

Keyleth took one more shaky breath before letting go and stepping back, surreptitiously wiping the corners of her eyes. She put enough distance between them that she could look him up and down, her eyebrows drawing into a faint frown at the sight of the shirt he was still wearing, top button undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The black satin tie he'd borrowed was now loosely rolled up in his pocket, waiting to be returned to its owner. 

"Didn't work out?" she asked, quiet, a little shaky, and Vax gave her a halfhearted shrug. 

This wasn't the time for her to be concerned about him , and besides, he didn't really want to go into it. He didn't have much reasoning he was willing to offer her or anyone else right now, despite being unable to think about anything except this on the endless walk home from the restaurant. He just ... hadn't wanted to be there. He hadn't been able to put on his regular charm, the warm smile, the attention Sara deserved, hadn't been able to appreciate anything in front of him because he couldn't get the image of Keyleth, nervously chewing her bottom lip as the minutes ticked down to her needing to leave the house, out of his mind. 

He'd spent every second sat in that fancy restaurant thinking about how Keyleth had looked for a version of him he’d watered down for the evening; he hadn’t expected the way her eyebrows furrowed as she clocked his no eyeliner, no eyeshadow, no obnoxious, clinking rings and rich, dark nail polish. She had taken to seeing him - this him - so quickly, as though the person he got to show to the world finally matched the person she’d always seen. He’d already been unsure about this whole thing, hating stepping anywhere near the obnoxious wealth and luxury that always reminded him of his father, but the moment in her bedroom had been something else entirely. Gilmore saw him like that. Scanlan, too. Vex, always. The others in the house and their friends beyond it, they knew that Vax, that bright, real, unapologetic version of himself with so much familiarity and love. The girls Vax had found himself dating over the years never had. They weren’t sure what to make of it, or if they liked it, became unsure of his closeness with Gilmore, or wanted something Vax hadn’t known what to give. 

Until he looked at Keyleth tonight and realised she was searching for everything he’d already tucked away for his date with Sara. 

Keyleth held his gaze, that concerned furrow between her eyebrows, and he shook his head as though he could shake it from her face too. "I'm glad I'm here instead," he said, because he could at least offer her honesty. He'd work out the rest when she wasn't standing in front of him with faintly red-rimmed eyes and a downward curl to her lips, her arms folded around herself as if she hadn’t quite been ready to pull away. 

He gave her a wry, ghost of a smile. "Didn't work out?" he echoed. 

Keyleth shook her head, swallowing. “No.”

The word could’ve been swallowed whole by the room, it was so small. 

More laughter beckoned from the other room. Pike’s, this time. Vax nudged Keyleth’s shoulder with his, nodding towards what had, over the years, become the sound of home. It was meant as an unspoken question, really, because he would completely understand if she had no desire to tell him - or any of them - what had happened, but she seemed to take it as a gentle direction of what to do next and her expression folded into exhausted relief. 

Still, she made no move on her own so he took the lead, fingers brushing the old wood of the stairs as they passed them. 

The living room smelled sharp with the sizzle of white wine steaming into the air. 

“Is that risotto gonna be ready soon or are you just planning on torturing us with how good it smells all night?” Vax asked teasingly. 

Pike turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand and an eyebrow raised with an expression that was somewhere between adorable and unexpectedly humbling. “Excuse you, you had dinner at Shepherd’s, thank you very much. I wasn’t cooking with you in mind.” 

“Aw, c’mon Pickle,” said Vax, leaning his arms against the breakfast bar. “The portions they serve there are miniscule .” 

“And he left before dessert,” said Percy, not looking away from the TV. “Which, arguably, is the only real reason to go to Shepherd’s. ” 

“Thanks Freddie, wish you’d told me that before I spent half of my last paycheck there,” said Vax dryly. 

Keyleth laughed. A small, tired, trying-too-hard kind of sound, but it made Vax’s chest deflate a little with relief and caught Pike’s attention. She crossed the space between the stove and breakfast bar until Keyleth came into view where she was hovering by the couches, quiet and clearly hesitant. Pike’s eyes brightened and Vax bit his lip, wracking his brain trying to think of how to caution her, silently say tread carefully and she’s had a shit night in a way that he could only really do with Vex, but he should’ve given Pike credit; she’d known Keyleth as long as he had. 

“Hey you,” said Pike in that soft way of hers that always melted anyone and everyone she spoke to. “I know you were at dinner but - you still hungry?” 

Vax made an affronted noise. “Hey!” 

“Shush,” said Pike, not batting an eyelid. “Keyleth?” 

“Yeah,” said Keyleth. “I mean - no, I’m not -” She shook her head. “Sorry. No. I’m … not hungry.” 

Even Percy, who was still getting to know Keyleth’s tells, glanced over, eyebrows furrowed. Vax kind of wished Vex were here; she always knew the right moment to break through hesitant, weighted tension, when to use her directness with careful precision. And for all the weirdness currently between Vex and Keyleth, he liked to think that Vex would table it right now , when Keyleth was clearly going through something. 

“Family’s a weird thing,” Percy said quietly, looking at Keyleth in a steady way that shouldn’t have surprised Vax, but did. “What happened?” he asked.

Of course, of all of them, Percy could match Vex’s precision that’d been so needed, cutting down the edge of the wound like a surgeon’s scalpel. Apart from Vax, Percy was the person who’d spent the most time with his sister (though he tried to avoid thinking about that for any real degree of time). But beyond that … he was Percy . Possibly the leading expert on family trauma amongst their friendship group, although several of them could’ve given him a good run for his money. The conversations he’d had with Percy about Cassandra over the years had all happened quietly, late at night and only with Vex, if anyone, present, and Percy still remained adamant that reconnecting with her wasn’t something he could handle. Nudging him in that direction hadn’t yet been successful, but the topic had been touchier than usual, lately. He hoped that meant Percy was getting closer to making a move. There was no way in hell that the topic of his family had come up between him and Keyleth yet though; it had taken such a long time for Percy to begin to trust the rest of them, and he was still just beginning to get to know Keyleth.

Yet as Keyleth’s gaze settled on Percy, the momentary, taken aback hesitance faded from her eyes, as she seemed to find something there that was to be trusted and she sagged to perch on the arm of the couch. 

The story of it all came tumbling out far quicker than Vax and Pike could have carefully coaxed from her, trying to tiptoe around Keyleth’s exhaustion and fragility in a way that Percy cut straight through. Keyleth was a rambler in any context - Vax had always found it endearing about her - but tonight, as she pieced the picture together for the three of them, the image of it all was stitched with threads of biting anger, a bitterness sharpening the edges of her words.

It was so achingly unfair.

Worse still, there was nothing any of them could say or do to make it an easier pill to swallow. 

Choosing Zephrah had dictated over half a decade of Keyleth’s life. It had mattered , had weight , both back then and now in ways that Vax understood better now than he ever had before. Seeing who Keyleth had become since coming back made it all the clearer how wonderfully and lovingly Zephrah had shaped her into this new version of herself, how those mountain peaks and winding streets and above all else, the people , had settled firmly within Keyleth’s heart.

For all of that to now be tinged with some kind of lie , the threads between it all growing rotten with deceit and betrayal … Vax knew bitterness better than most, and he didn’t want to see what the sharpness of it did to Keyleth. 

Keyleth swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, her tears furious and frustrated as their anger joined her own, until eventually, a numb, resigned exhaustion seemed to take over.

“I know my dad meant well,” she said, voice thick but still shaking with anger. “Him I can forgive, eventually. But them …” 

“You don’t owe them forgiveness,” said Pike, her voice harder than most might expect of her. It didn’t surprise Vax; he - and the rest of them - knew just how much it took for Pike to be as soft as she was. “You deserved honesty from people you were trusting to take care of you all those years.” 

“That’s just basic human decency,” said Percy.

“It just -” Keyleth swallowed, digging her knuckles into her eyes for a moment as she took a shuddering breath. “I gave up so fucking much to go there. I gave up all of you. I gave up every other dream I had, everything I knew and loved and trusted and all the best things I had in my life that I wanted for my future, and I gave it up in good faith that what I would find instead would be just as important. And it was , that was why I stayed and why it was worth it, and I never regretted it for a minute. Until now, because it … it just feels like it wasn’t even real -” 

“Hey,” interrupted Pike, gentler this time but no less firm. Vax watched as she reached out, gently tugging Keyleth down from the arm of the couch and into the comfortable embrace of the cushions. “This doesn’t make the reasons you chose to go to Zephrah any less real,” she said, quiet, steady, perhaps even a little stern, and Keyleth’s throat bobbed, her gaze not meeting any of theirs. Pike’s hand slipped into hers, their fingers interlocking, then she ran her thumb back and forth over Keyleth’s first knuckle. “Why you went, the things you found there, who you became, all of that was real because you did it. Whatever the fuck anyone else’s reasons were for you being there, whatever was happening that you didn’t know about, that doesn’t change what Zephrah was for you. Don’t let them change what Zephrah was for you, okay? They sure as hell shouldn’t get to take that from you.” 

Keyleth couldn’t seem to find any kind of response within her, now the fury and fight had faded. Her eyes traced the path of Pike’s thumb across her skin, and Vax watched the silence sink in, for a few minutes, before carefully gathering his own still-simmering anger up into one corner of his mind, and attempting to fence it in. It would stay there, waiting, easily within reach. Tonight, the time for it had faded.

Candles had been lit before Keyleth got home, but when conversation lulled, Percy rose and turned off the tall lamp behind the couch, leaving just the dimmer one beside the TV to accompany the candlelight. He flicked on the kettle and unmuted the TV, leaving it playing soft background noise whilst he carefully spooned cocoa powder into mugs and whisked four hot chocolates. (It was the type of quiet, understated kindness that was maybe as unexpected in Percy as fury was in Pike, but that made it suddenly so obvious what Vex had always seen, what she’d fallen in love with back when they were eighteen.)

Keyleth let the quiet and the dark envelop her, sinking into the couch and drifting away from the quiet conversation that restarted between Vax, Pike and Percy. Once disappointed that he was going to get any food from Pike in the kitchen, Trinket padded over, settling himself at Keyleth’s feet. Keyleth didn’t even seem to notice. 

Fuck. Vax hadn’t seen Keyleth like this in a long time.

This wasn’t the kind of revelation that could be easily brushed under the carpet. Decisions she’d made based on what she’d once thought was true had rippled out from their origin point and through all of their lives, and knowing now how much had been kept from her, it would be impossible not to look back. After all, that was what she specialised in: looking forward, looking back, finding the points where branches split and different possibilities became realised - or, where the branches ended.

A key jiggled in the door and Vax heard the handle turn, followed by the sound of boots being neatly placed on top of the shoe rack. He knew Vex’s footsteps better than anyone else’s in the world.

Her eyes were bright from the drinks she’d had with Zahra, but the sight of the four of them seemed to sober something within her. Despite their attempts these past few hours to soften Keyleth’s landing from the freefall she’d been unceremoniously dropped into, it seemed like Keyleth was still just falling. Vex’s gaze flickered around the room. Three mugs sat empty on the coffee table, a spilt dribble of hot chocolate on the wood beside them, whilst Keyleth’s remained half-finished, still clasped in her hand.

Vex hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing up options on her tongue. Vax left her to it. Once, she would’ve been the perfect person to help Keyleth sort through this, but now, he didn’t know.

When she found her words, they were stilted, although Vax could appreciate the effort. It took a lot, to tentatively step onto a bridge that was halfway through burning. “How was dinner?” she asked, her eyes flickering over the faint red that rimmed Keyleth’s, and the smudge of eyeliner at the corners.

Keyleth’s fingers tensed around her mug, before exhaustion seemed to swallow her whole. “Awful,” she said plainly, not bothering to dress up the answer. She didn't give Vex time to ask anything further, just slid her mug onto the coffee table beside the others. “I think I’m gonna go to bed. Try sleep it off.” 

“Let us know if you need anything,” said Pike and Keyleth managed the barest hint of a smile in response. 

“Night,” she said quietly, glancing at him, then Pike, Percy, and ever so briefly, skittishly, at Vex before looking quickly away. 

Keyleth had already slipped out of the room when Vex quietly, almost whispered, said, “Night.” 

For all the strange tension and distance between Vex and Keyleth all these weeks, Vax watched as Vex’s eyebrows furrowed in undeniable concern, gaze snapping to him in search of the unspoken confirmation only he could give her, that something was clearly wrong. He doubted any ounce of his own worry was hidden from his face, and even if it was, Vex would’ve seen right through it. She glanced back towards the stairs, looking as though she was warring with herself over following Keyleth up. Vax couldn’t decide whether he wanted her to or not, whether it would help. Vex had often been able to get through to Keyleth in ways he, Pike and Grog never could; it was just a matter of whether that would still be true now. 

In the end, Vex seemed to decide otherwise, shucking off her jacket and exchanging a brief look with Percy before heading to the kitchen. The blanketing worry stayed though, heavy as it settled between them all, eyes constantly darting up to the stairs and conversation thin, short and tense. 

“She’ll be okay,” said Pike suddenly, fiercely. 

“Of course she will,” said Percy, quiet but sure. 

Staring intensely into her steaming mug of tea, Vex nodded, a little absently as though she wasn’t aware she was doing it, but with every bit of determined certainty as the other two, as if she could personally make it so. For everything else this night had brought, it made Vax’s shoulders relax ever so slightly, the weight on his chest lifting. 

If nothing else, no matter what happened, at least Keyleth wouldn’t be alone.

Chapter Text

Some days proved harder than others to bridge the Keyleth of Vax’s memory with the Keyleth he was coming to know now. Today, he was finding it hard to believe that the person stood at the front of the lecture hall - voice unwaveringly sure, words refined and eloquent as passion and confidence shone in her eyes - was the same person he had once watched from across their lunch table tip apple juice down her front out of nerves as she practiced her part of a Social Studies group presentation. 

Coherence hadn’t been one of Keyleth’s strengths, back when Vax first knew her. She’d been so painfully shy, tips of her ears flushing red as she stumbled through stories they all tried their hardest to follow, bursting with uncertainty and indecision. Even Pike - sweet, kind hearted, endlessly loving, Pike - had a fierceness and confidence Keyleth seemed to lack. Keyleth’s fire, her moments of unthinking, challenging bite and grit, was somehow reserved for just them. Being angry at Syldor. Defending Vex, sometimes - often - from Vax. Being protective over Pike and Grog when their own family shit reemerged. But as soon as the time came for her to stand up for herself, to straighten her shoulders and look someone in the eye and show them what she was worth, she always seemed to cower. 

Her clumsy, earnest shyness had been charming in its own way, Vax would never deny that - it was part of what had made him fall for her in the first place. But he knew the others wanted as much as he did to see all of that heart and fire they knew Keyleth had poured into her own life and passions and hopes. 

Like it was now. Keyleth, commanding every ounce of attention in the room. Third year biology students, Master’s students, other PhD candidates, lecturers, and researchers alike, all listening to Keyleth with undeniable respect and interest. An expert in her field. 

Vax knew that technically, he was too; that was the whole point of the somewhat ridiculous niches they squeezed themselves into when doing their PhDs. But he’d always been able to redirect his charming smile and easy confidence (“ Arrogance, you mean?” Vex would say beneath a cough with a pointed smirk) to this side of academia. 

With Keyleth, the enrapturing confidence in her was earned , even if he was the only person in the room right now who knew it. He’d be proud enough for all of them. Especially after everything Keyleth had been through these last few weeks. 

This conference had been in their calendars since the start of the academic year, circled and underlined, but the timing felt oddly convenient. All PhD students involved in the Tal’dorei Ecological project had twenty minute slots to introduce themselves and their previous research, and then outline the foundations of their portions of the project, and their long term goals and aspirations for their own, entwined future study. Keyleth needed it. As a distraction, first and foremost, whilst the anger and hurt from her family dinner simmered, but far more importantly, as a reminder: regardless of the ultimatum her grandparents had given Korrin, and the reasons the three of them had pushed her to choose Zephrah over Whitestone, she’d found wonder in those years away. Flicking back through old notes and fieldwork when putting this presentation together had been a far better balm than anything the rest of them could say.

Vax wasn’t foolish enough to assume any of this - her confidence presenting, her academic expertise, getting out of her head over everything with her family to focus on this conference in the first place - came as effortlessly to her as it seemed to right now. He’d seen the build up, the late nights and the chewed lips, both of them at the kitchen table fussing over notecards and slides and frantically searching for lost citations. When he’d come downstairs this morning, there was a thick, nervous energy crackling in the air that didn’t abate even with Pike’s reassurances. 

Now, however, as Keyleth flicked through the slides focusing on her PhD research proposal and the bare bones of her literature review, she did it with a calm, passionate steadiness. He wished Vex could be here to see this. Keyleth’s fumbling had always frustrated her, and that, in turn, had frustrated him , but it had never been out of unkindness. Vex had fiercely wanted the world to see this - brilliance, intellect, certainty - rather than the self-doubt Keyleth had been hiding behind.

A voice from a few rows behind Vax’s seat called out a question. “While I’m sure the varying climate between Zephrah and Whitestone is an integral part of your own research, how are you applying these differences to the Tal’dorei Ecological project?” 

Keyleth nodded, looking as though the question hadn’t fazed her at all. Vax was a little in awe. The questions were the worst part, for him. It was the one point of this whole, performative part of academia that he didn’t have control over, that felt too much like a challenge, a confrontation, a demand for him to prove his worth or else. He always fought to keep his composure, keep his smile, remind himself that he did, in fact, know the answers, and if he didn’t, that was sort of the whole point of research communities. Keyleth, meanwhile, didn’t even blink. She leaned over to tap back a handful of slides, a picture of Zephrah’s Summit Peaks side by side with Whitestone’s Alabaster Sierras filling the projector screen. Keyleth reiterated that the project was interested in a wide range of environments and was, uniquely, looking to incorporate more traditional and indigenous forms of conservation to its eventual policy proposals. Zephrah was an ideal study for this, Keyleth explained, and its surrounding regions were unexpectedly similar to Whitestone’s own mountainous coast and lush forests. Warmth crept into Keyleth’s voice as she mentioned the steep cliffsides and winds Zephrah was known for, the plants that thrived there, admitting without a moment’s unease that she was still getting to know Whitestone’s climate and geography in comparison, though it was providing interesting contrast and overlap so far.

“But I will say,” she said with a performatively conspiratorial grin, “needing to ‘get to know the landscape’ is a pretty good excuse to ditch the books and go for a hike on a nice day.” 

It earned her a round of laughs from across the room, including from the usually stuffy Geology professor who’d asked the question in the first place. Vax barely held back his own incredulous, impressed laugh. 

In the momentary distraction, the chuckles that rippled out and sparked hushed, whispered conversations of intrigue and approval, Keyleth stole a second to catch Vax’s eye. Amidst the blur of her presentation slot winding down and the chatter of people deciding whether they had last minute questions, Vax found himself the sole focus of all of Keyleth’s absolutely radiant confidence for a single moment and all the breath left his lungs in a rush. A small, private smile, just for him, tugged at the corners of her lips, one that seemed to say, can you believe we’re here? And then her gaze flitted away, back to surveying the room as she raised her voice over the hubbub and asked, “Any final questions?” and Vax remembered how to breathe with a shaky, distracted inhale.

No, he thought to himself, he couldn’t believe they were here. His thumb absentmindedly traced over the grooves of the thick, silver ring on his index finger. It felt too lucky, sometimes. In a way that unnerved him, made the back of his neck prickle with the idea that in some other reality, they weren’t here. This felt too right for there to be any alternative, like the strings of fate had and always would be tying the two of them together, like she’d lingered at the corners of his mind for all this time because some part of him had known deep down that she’d return. In other ways, it felt like a complete coincidence - like they’d stumbled back upon each other completely by chance, like this was a one in a million piece of good fortune. Not that the why mattered, when it came down to it. She was here.

Or rather, there , five rows ahead of him in this echoey old lecture hall, her classy emerald green sweater pushed up to her elbows about thirty seconds before her presentation started, her hair falling soft around her shoulders and glinting in the early afternoon sunlight creeping through the high windows at the top of the hall. Curious delight sparkled in her eyes as she fielded the final barrage of interested questions until the morning session’s moderator cut in. 

“I’m afraid our time is up,” he said apologetically to the crowd. “I’d love to continue the Q&A longer but unfortunately, this room is needed for a pesky undergraduate class.” 

More laughs filled the hall, along with the familiar shuffle of papers tidying and laptops clicking shut. 

“The afternoon session will begin at 2:30, and there’s a catered lunch available next door, where I’m sure you can corner Keyleth with one or two more questions,” said the moderator and Keyleth grinned goodnaturedly. Vax pulled out a notebook, and on the page next to the questions from his own talk, jotted down the last few questions called out that Keyleth hadn’t gotten to answer. 

He lost track of her as the crowd filled the floor, thronging with Whitestone students and academics and visiting scholars and researchers, some demanding her attention and others, to Vax’s surprise, coming to talk to him about his own research and part in the Tal’dorei Ecological project. People dispersed in the foyer outside the lecture hall, chatter muffled by the plush red carpets beneath their feet. Vax strained his neck a little trying to catch a flash of red hair, but Keyleth seemed to have vanished. Maybe next door, getting something to eat. He was still a little too wired for bland cucumber sandwiches, and he definitely wasn’t touching the atrocious excuse for hummus and falafel wraps (not when Vax knew what authentic and homemade tasted like, courtesy of Kash). 

A hand on Vax’s arm had him nearly jumping out of his skin before he recognised the accompanying, “Ah, there you are,” as Lieve’tel appeared beside him with a proud smile. “Fantastic presentation, Vax.” 

“Thanks,” said Vax, shoving his notebook and pen into his back pocket. “You gonna get some lunch, or …?” 

“What, that food?” said Lieve’tel, wrinkling her nose. “Ha. No. We’re taking the visiting scholars to the Pho place down the road. I think the shitty sandwiches are mainly for the undergrads.” 

Vax tried not to roll his eyes. Free food was free food when you were twenty and student-broke. He wasn’t about to judge.

“You and Keyleth want to join?” Lieve’tel asked. “Conference lunches are always good for networking.”

“Yeah, if I could find her,” said Vax “Maybe she’s got plans with the others from her department.” 

“Go find her, chat up whatever prestigious seventy-year-old professor is lured in by the finger sandwiches. Text me if you want me to grab you something on our way back.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to -” said Vax, trying not to sound ungrateful but certainly not masking his surprise. He wasn’t used to this kind of warmth and kindness from anyone in any kind of position of power above him. He liked Lieve’tel a lot, but this was the sort of nurturing mentorship he had only ever encountered in Allura. Maybe she’d mentioned something to Lieve’tel? 

She waved him off a little. “Don’t be silly. Just get me that lit review draft on time.” 

Vax laughed. “I’ll do my best.” 

It was close to forty-five minutes - filled with a few genuinely interesting conversations, a couple of incredibly boring ones, a third year Development Studies student’s slightly embarrassing attempt to flirt with Vax, and one admittedly not-so-terrible cucumber sandwich - later that Keyleth reappeared, hand latching onto his arm before he could get swept away in a new crowd of lingering conference-goers. 

Vax grinned at her. “ There you are. Careful there, Kiki, seems like you’re at real risk of upstaging this thing’s main panelists.” 

Keyleth’s face, that had been flushed with pleased relief as she’d been ushered out of the lecture hall, had an odd tension to it now. If she hadn’t already done the hardest part of their role in this conference, Vax would’ve thought it were nerves. Was she unsure about how the presentation had gone? Keyleth did have a tendency to overthink. 

“Hey,” said Vax, nudging her. “You were so good. Seriously.” He tried to infuse warmth into every word, intentionality and promise chipping away at the more professional personas they’d gotten used to having around one another when working on the Tal’dorei Ecological project. 

Keyleth smiled. “Thanks,” she said quietly. “And you were too. Your talk was amazing.” The thanks and the congratulations were sincere, but the stiffness in her shoulders didn’t seem to fade, making her words fall oddly flat. 

He’d never been to a conference like this with her, with academics whose work they’d referenced milling around right next to senior staff from their own department, every corner of these halls filled with all sorts of people it would be well worth their while to network with. They’d both taken such care with their planning, their talks, their appearances. But this felt different to the anxiety he’d seen the evening before. Before Vax could glance over his shoulder, find a spot to pull her aside to some kind of privacy and ask, properly , if she was okay, a figure just a few feet away from them fell into his view, taking a strangely close spot next to Keyleth. 

A man, seemingly around their age, his brown hair short and somewhere between waves and curls. He had dark eyes and the kind of self-assured smile that didn’t feel earned, instead made Vax want to harden his. 

“Vax,” said Keyleth, her voice having completely lost every single ounce of its confidence from earlier, “this is Ryan. Ryan, Vax.” She gestured between them, her eyes staying firmly away from either of their faces. Ryan’s eyes flickered over him intently, and Vax resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. He felt a little like a cell under a microscope. 

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Ryan said smoothly, holding out a hand.

Vax considered himself good at reading people. Not as good as Vex - nowhere near - but spending a lifetime glued to her side had imparted at least some of her shrewdness and sharp observational skills, and when Ryan smiled, the sense of self importance in it set him on edge.

“Likewise,” said Vax, taking the hand extended to him and indulging perhaps a little too easily in a ridiculous show of masculine arrogance he usually would have rolled his eyes at; he tightened his hand slightly more than would be socially acceptable, just enough to maybe hurt, before letting go. (If Gil ever found out about this, he was going to give Vax so much shit.) “Here for the conference I presume?” 

“We took Bio together in Zephrah,” Keyleth told him before Ryan could even open his mouth to answer. “We … we know each other from uni.”  

Keyleth had embraced every friend Vax had introduced to her with wholehearted delight and unfailing warmth, eager to see the life he’d lived and the people he’d found a home in. 

Suck it up, Vax, he told himself, hoping the grimace he felt wasn’t visible on his face. You owe her that. 

“You’re involved with Tal’dorei Ecological?” he asked Ryan conversationally.

“No.” The response came from Keyleth, quick as a whip, again before Ryan had chance to get a single word out. Vax watched her sink her teeth into her tongue, and for the second time since the conference started, he wished that Vex was here, this time to interpret what he was sure to her would be very, very obvious subtext. 

“Just visiting,” Ryan said easily, as Keyleth crossed her arms rather than elaborating, fingers curling into her sweater. “Doing a second Master’s at the moment - Climate and Environment Studies over in Wildemount. The conference was a bit of a trip but hey, too up my alley to miss, right?” 

“Yeah,” said Vax, trying to gauge Keyleth’s expression out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, absolutely.” 

“Plus, doesn’t hurt to get to scout out some of the PhD programmes around here,” said Ryan with a shrug. Something akin to panic seemed to flash across Keyleth’s face in a millisecond before she determinedly smothered it. If Vax hadn’t been desperately waiting for any flicker across her face, he would have missed it. “My supervisor thinks if I end up finding a good programme out this way, maybe I can jump onto this Tal’dorei Ecological thing next year.” 

“Is that so?” said Vax, wondering whether Lieve’tel liked him enough to throw her weight around the Ecological Association and bar this guy from even breathing in their general vicinity. 

“And I mean,” said Ryan with a smarmy sort of smile that had Vax’s stupid, reckless, seventeen year old self wanting to clamour to the surface and punch him in the face for literally no good reason, get a grip , Vax , “it was a great coincidence to run into Keyleth, and get to meet the infamous Vax’ildan.”

Vax’s brain snagged on several things all at once, like a bird’s wing snaring in a trap mid-flight: Ryan’s hand lightly grazed Keyleth’s elbow; Keyleth’s teeth caught on her lower lip; her eyes snapped to Vax’s for another weighted, flighty second, before darting away again.

The uncertainty radiating from her, the confidence oozing from Ryan -

Oh no. Oh fuck. 

They’d dated. 

He knew, the moment the realisation settled in, that he was right. 

They’d dated; it was in the set of Keyleth’s shoulders, the look he hadn’t been able to read when she’d first approached. The nervousness he’d mistakenly attributed to pressure, to the crowd, to networking. 

Distantly familiar bitterness made a long forgotten home for itself on his tongue. At least he hadn’t just been jealous because he was an asshole - he had good reason, now. 

But if Vax had learnt anything from his miserable years in Syldor Vessar’s home, it was diplomacy. Vax wasn’t a resentful seventeen year old, and Keyleth never had and never would owe him anything romantic, so he smoothed out his expression, pulled a matching smile onto his face, then picked up the conversation exactly where it had been left.

“What did you think of the morning’s speakers?” he asked, almost goading Ryan to even dare say something less than glowing about Keyleth’s talk. 

“Very interesting,” said Ryan. “We both know how easily Keyleth can steal attention, huh?” He grinned at Vax as though they were both in on some kind of inside joke, but Vax got the impression he wasn’t talking about Keyleth’s research, or her eloquence. Keyleth’s ears burned red and she looked like she wanted the ground to open up beneath her. Vax wasn’t sure what to say that would sound adequately civil, and while he really didn’t want to have to keep listening to Ryan talk, Ryan thankfully didn’t really wait for a reply. He followed on with some semi-interested comments about the rest of the panelists, making stupid, congenial small talk about the beautiful building, the travel from Wildemount, stopping in Zephrah on the way, how good it was to see Keyleth again. 

Vax nodded, and offered as convincing a smile as he could manage, if for no other reason than realising that his deceptively open, easy attitude was softening the tension in Keyleth’s shoulders. As he and Ryan spoke, he watched his patience pull free the tightly held breath from Keyleth’s lungs. She let Vax carry this strange bubble of awkward small talk with all the charm he had remaining after his own presentation. 

Vax thought of the roof; warmth clinging to the night air, the taste of beer and Gilmore’s lips still lingering on his tongue as the gut-deep fear coursing through his veins seemed to just settle when Keyleth’s warm fingers curled around his ankle. Her genuine warmth and affection and pride. 

He thought of Keyleth just a few days ago, laughing with Gilmore in the kitchen like they’d known each other forever. Whoever - whatever - she and Vax had ever been, had ever almost been, could have been, hadn’t at a single point stopped her. Not from loving Gilmore, not from gently encouraging his date with Sara (though one of those things mattered far more to Vax than the other.) Keyleth deserved the same from him. 

He could be objective.

He was exceptional at being objective. 

(Most of the time.)

And objectively speaking , it was nice knowing Keyleth had had people in Zephrah. Had had a full, rich, expansive life. Which, admittedly, yes, he knew already. He knew about the friends from her dorms, from the Zephrah University Hiking Club, the ones her cousins had introduced her to, slow bonds over passions and stress forged between her postgraduate cohort. He knew about the way the sun sparkled on the Zephran mountaintops and how the trees sounded in the early autumn breeze. But Vax also knew better than most how easily stories and photos could make time spent somewhere sound like something it wasn’t; years in Emon could easily be stories filled with chaos and joy and laughter, photos overexposed from brilliant sunshine, sunglasses crusted from seaside salt and books splattered with spilled drinks shared across lunch tables and bedroom floors. And none of it would ever show the dark, suffocating parts that had overshadowed it all, the things that lingered in Vax’s memory even all these years later.

Vax had no way to know whether or not the Zephrah of Keyleth’s stories was its whole, real truth, or whether it was a mask for something she wasn’t ready to show them yet. He was more certain than not that it was the former - her devastation after that family dinner had proved how precious her time in Zephrah had been. But all he’d really wanted was for those years to have been that same beauty and fullness that had changed him so profoundly in Whitestone. Littered with laughter and tears alike, mistakes and growth, and above all, love. 

He’d only ever been able to picture her alone, all these years. Her people were around Vax, making up his wonderful every day, and in his mind, she had nothing to fill that gap all the way in Zephrah. 

So it was good, that she’d had people.

Even if those people had to include … Ryan. Who Vax personally thought seemed wildly uninteresting, but he could admit to himself that maybe he was biased. 

He shoved down the prickling feeling at the base of his spine with all the force he could muster.

Ryan knew who he was. Seemed to know just how close Vax and Keyleth had once been. So clearly Keyleth had trusted him enough, and he deserved Vax’s benefit of the doubt. Maybe Keyleth’s teeth still gnawing on the inside of her lip was because she was afraid of what Vax would say, of his teenage temper and possessiveness making a roaring reappearance as he stood next to someone who had actually gotten to have a real relationship with Keyleth. 

Vax firmly relaxed his shoulders and directed the conversation to the most neutral topic he could think of, then wished he didn’t notice the way Keyleth’s fingers uncurled from her jumper in relief. 

He didn’t ask, and had absolutely no intention to. If he was honest with himself, Vax didn’t want to know, and while he’d unhesitatingly listen if Keyleth brought it up, he had more than a sneaking suspicion that she just as desperately wanted to let this drop awkwardly between them and for neither of them to pick it up again. 

Except Scanlan and Pike were giving them a ride home after the afternoon session, and while Vax was given a grateful reprieve from dealing with Ryan again by Lieve’tel introducing him to a researcher from Issylra, Ryan must have cornered Keyleth again, lingering long enough for Scanlan to catch a glimpse. And Scanlan had a sixth sense for these kinds of things. 

To his credit, the short drive home was mainly occupied by questions about the conference. Scanlan and Pike had seen Vax and Keyleth’s endless stress about it over these past weeks - as had everyone else - and it was going to be like a pressure valve released in the house now that it was all over. By the time they reached home, (the finicky lock giving them a little more grief than usual and Pike cursing exasperatedly as she nearly broke her keys in an attempt to wedge the door open), Vax was midway through telling Pike and Scanlan about the Issylran Ecological Research Institute and the researcher he and Lieve’tel had been talking to. 

“Vax, that’s nuts!” said Keyleth, wide eyed. “You know he basically single-handedly went up against the oil company that wanted to start offshore mining in the Ozmit? He’s a badass! ” She hung up her jacket, shucked off her shoes and rounded the corner towards the living room with an unthinking ease and instinct that she’d only just started to sink into the past couple of weeks. It made Vax’s chest warm. 

“I know,” he said with a grin, hoping he looked more excited about the networking than dopey about them having a home in the same place. (Thankfully, he wasn’t pretending in the slightest about the former.) “And he knows my name! And my research! I’m gonna buy Lieve like, so many coffees. Maybe a pony.” 

Pike snorted with laughter and from the kitchen, Vex said, “You aren’t buying anyone a pony, Vax, you’re scared of horses.” 

“I absolutely am not, the fuck!” spluttered Vax, dropping his bag and jacket by the breakfast bar and shooting Vex a glare. “I got thrown off one one time, it almost broke my arm! I think it’s very reasonable to be wary, thank you very much.” 

“Sure,” said Vex with a smirk as Keyleth and Pike snickered and Percy grinned goodnaturedly. 

“There were ponies at the conference?” he teased. 

“Oh fuck off,” said Vax. 

“Went well then?” said Vex, smiling. 

“Very,” said Vax. “I have a lot of ass kissing emails to send to some very cool and important new contacts.” 

Vex and Percy had cooked - spaghetti bolognese and meatballs, homemade garlic bread, and there was even some celebratory wine for Vax and Keyleth - and sweetly, everyone had coordinated being back in time for a very homely family dinner around the dining table. It was so different from the cool, silent, uncomfortably formal dinners at a long, dark table that Vax had gotten used to in Syngorn. Bowls clinked as salad and garlic butter was passed across the table, conversations overlapping, chatter tired but comfortable as Scanlan, as always, connected his phone to the living room speakers. Trinket settled himself between Percy and Vax, his head on Percy’s feet, knowing far too well by now that they were the two he was most likely to get dinner table scraps from when Vex wasn’t looking. 

“So,” said Scanlan, during a lull in conversation as Grog and Pike cleared the dishes from the table and stacked them by the sink. “Keyleth. Who’s the friend you were talking to when we picked you up? Don’t think I recognise him from the conference programme.” 

The meatballs that had been sitting heavy in Vax’s stomach gave a sudden, nauseating lurch. “ You read the conference programme?” he tried to interject derisively, hoping it would derail the conversation but of course, it wasn’t going to. 

“I was being a supportive friend,” said Scanlan with a shit eating grin, flicking a crumb of bread at Vax and returning his focus to Keyleth. 

Keyleth winced. 

It caught everyone’s attention. 

Vex leaned in curiously, arms on the table with an arched eyebrow. “Friend?” 

“Friend or friend ?” asked Grog, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Grog,” Keyleth groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. The embarrassment in her voice gave just about everything away. 

“Oh ho ,” said Pike with a wide grin.  “So a friend. ” 

“No,” said Keyleth, her tone unexpectedly sharp and curt. “We’re not friends. Or friends , or anything in between.” 

Vex’s eyebrows crept up at the vehemence, the uncharacteristic tinges of anger in the clipped, forceful edges of Keyleth’s words. Vax watched his sister’s spoon linger over her dessert bowl briefly, attention piqued, ignoring the steam rising off the apple crumble and condensing on her fingers. Beside her, Scanlan hummed curiously under his breath.

Keyleth exhaled. Her ears were red again. 

Vax found himself completely caught off guard when her gaze flightily landed on him. She’d tossed her hair up into a loose ponytail when Pike and Scanlan picked them up, formality and respectability finally off the table, but the shorter strands near her face had fallen free at some point before dinner. Now, they framed her face, giving her conference-ready look a softer, more casual, at-home air. Her green sweater was draped over the back of her chair too, the cream coloured button up beneath it rolled to her elbows. Her thin, dangling earrings kept brushing against the collar. She was beautiful. 

But a guarded expression pulled at her features, hard with uncertainty that Vax hated seeing on her. He knew the silent question she was asking; whether he had put together the her and Ryan equation by himself, already, or whether this moment was going to be infinitely more uncomfortable because he hadn’t. He gave her a small, hopefully reassuring nod. Her shoulders sagged with relief. 

(He could feel Vex’s eyes on him. Even if nobody else quite caught the moment between him and Keyleth, there was no way Vex hadn’t.) 

“Were you … once … y’know … friends ?” asked Grog awkwardly, entirely failing in his attempt to tread lightly. 

Pike bit her lip, hiding something that seemed halfway between a laugh and a grimace. 

Keyleth sank a little in her chair. “Yes,” she said with abrupt bluntness. “We … dated.” 

Chaos erupted.

“Wait, fuck off, I thought maybe he was a crush or something, he’s an ex? ” 

“Okay, what do you mean by dated? Like, went on some dates? Hooked up? Or are we talking serious relationship?” 

“No, no, backtrack, I need an image in my mind. What does he look like? Someone find his Instagram.” 

“Was this in Zephrah? What the hell is he doing here?” 

“Can we meet him?” 

“Do we like him?” 

“What’s his name?” 

Vax swallowed, trying to ease the feeling of cotton wool in his mouth. He curled his fingers tightly around the base of his glass of water and tried to claw back the sensible, respectful peace he’d insisted on portraying around Ryan earlier. 

Keyleth’s lips curved up in slight amusement, seeming a little fond even as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Yes, he’s an ex. Dated as in we were exclusively together for around eight months. I’ve blocked him on Instagram but he’s probably liked one of the official conference posts Vax and I are tagged in. Yes, this was in Zephrah. He was here for the conference, though he seemed like he wanted to scout out possible PhD programmes in Tal’dorei which, please, god, I hope not. No, you can’t meet him. No, we don’t like him. And his name is Ryan Walsh.” 

“ Ryan Walsh? ” Percy echoed. “God, he sounds even whiter than me.” 

Vax smiled to himself with petty satisfaction. 

Keyleth looked like she wanted to laugh a little but couldn’t quite remember how.  

It was clearer to him now that Keyleth’s tension from earlier - tension that still lingered in the corners of her eyes - hadn’t been because Vax was meeting Ryan; it was because Ryan was there at all. The stiffness in her shoulders, the way her fingers had curled into the fabric of sweater with enough bite for her arms to snag free a thread of wool, the skittishness of her gaze, and currently, the tap of her nails against the dining table - Vax hadn’t recognised any of it for what it was, but he could now. They were the tell-tale precursors to Keyleth’s rare bursts of genuine anger. Her anger had never lasted long when they were teenagers - it didn’t seem to crackle off her skin and sink deep into her bones the way it had for Vax and Grog. Keyleth’s politeness and neutrality, her kind sweetness always seemed to bring her back and leave her uncomfortable and abashed at having snapped in the first place. 

Vax couldn’t help but notice that it hadn’t seemed to fade yet, even hours after the conference and Ryan and despite all the comfort and warmth and support of the people around the table. It made Vax feel uncomfortably at a loss. This was a side of Keyleth he didn’t know. 

This was a hurt of Keyleth’s he didn’t know. 

Even everything with the dinner, with her grandparents, had come back to Keyleth and her mother, the disconnect between that part of her life and her family, the hollow void of loss and grief and longing that Vax had carried her through before and had known how to empathise with. 

“How did you meet?” asked Scanlan, less of a mischievous tease to his voice now, replaced with something more careful and gentle. 

Keyleth shrugged, biting her lip. “We were … friends first.” A flush had risen to her cheeks and she was very pointedly avoiding looking at Vax now. Vax found an interesting spot in his cooling apple crumble to stare at. “He was in my dorms in my first year. And he was doing Bio too so we were in a lot of the same classes and we just wound up spending a lot of time together that first year. He wasn’t from Zephrah either so we were both figuring out the place at the same time.” 

“How did you end up … y’know?” asked Grog with a vague wave of his hand. Vax expected her to flush more. Instead her expression wavered a little. 

“Everyone else was dating,” she said, teetering on vulnerability for the first time in the whole conversation. “I … wasn’t. It wasn’t why I was there but I also -” She stopped, breath hitching audibly. All Vax could really see in her face was the lines of her forehead, her tight knit eyebrows as she frowned. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Vex’s fingers twitch, as though wanting to reach out.

Pike got there first, placing a comforting hand on Keyleth’s wrist. 

Vax knew what she wasn’t saying, knew that at the very least, this wasn’t about him. Vex and Pike and Grog knew too. But Scanlan and Percy certainly didn’t, and Vax desperately didn’t want Keyleth to feel obligated to explain something to them she didn’t feel comfortable sharing when she’d only known them a couple of months, when this was meant to be a silly conversation over dinner. 

He remembered how hard it had been for her to make sense of it when every other fifteen year old around them became suddenly consumed with dating and relationships and sex and desire. When it was the topic of every second conversation at school, when people hooking up at parties and going to junior prom together and fooling around became hallway gossip and back of classroom chatter. She’d confessed to him how lonely she felt when she realised that even Vax, Vex, Pike, and Grog weren’t exempt from it. Grog had lost his virginity to a cheerleader he knew through football, Pike had been crushing on a boy from her English class, Vax had hooked up with a pretty girl who worked at their local cinema he’d ran into at a party, then had to be physically stopped by Keyleth and Grog from beating up the boy he found out Vex had hooked up with at the very same party. 

She’d been honest enough with him about the things she didn’t understand with how everyone else seemed to experience attraction, but he also hadn’t been the one she’d really talked to about it. 

He glanced at Vex. Twin telepathy, maybe, or perhaps they both just knew Keyleth too well; she was clearly thinking the same thing. Vex now studied Keyleth shrewdly, fire burning behind her eyes.

(“I don’t feel like it’s something I’m missing,” Keyleth had told him, seventeen, the memory of her lower lip catching on her teeth as crisp as it could be. They hadn’t talked about this in quite a while, but Vax knew she and Vex had spent a lot of time having quiet, achingly vulnerable conversations that Keyleth never would’ve had with Vax, not with whatever unspoken thing they had hanging between them. Keyleth seemed less uneasy about it now, the words measured and sure on her tongue. “People seem to… I don’t know. Want sex. I’m not saying I don’t ever, but it’s not what would draw me to someone. I don’t think that’s something I understand. And if I’m going to sleep with someone, I’d like it to be someone who loves me for who I am , you know?”)

“I’m not really the ‘dating on a whim’ kind,” were the words Keyleth eventually decided on. Vax spared a glance at Scanlan and Percy, and whatever unsettled nervousness had been rattling around in his chest calmed at how very clear it was that both of them understood what Keyleth wasn’t saying. “But Ryan and I were friends and we had a lot in common and we both really fell in love with Zephrah over that first year we were there. We knew the same people and he was just … really nice. To me, especially. He hung out with me when everyone else was out getting wasted at parties I didn’t want to go to, he came hiking with me and a couple of my cousins. It was just easy, I guess? And when he asked me out, it sort of felt like if he wasn’t someone I wanted to be with, who would I date? On paper, he seemed like everything I should - or could - want.” 

Vax tried to hang onto the very clear caveats she was using to pin the but in the story. He still felt a little like he wanted to throw up. 

“What went wrong?” asked Percy, speaking for the first time. There was an unexpected sharpness in his voice that shook Vax out of his seething stupor. His tone was layered the way everything Percy ever said or did was, but Vax knew him well enough to know that it was fury, and that it wasn’t directed at Keyleth. He hoped Keyleth would pick that up too. 

“It wasn’t really me he was after.” 

It was said far too casually. Like some kind of it is what it is fact, an inevitability. The kind that Vax wanted to wrestle against with his bare hands. Keyleth just shrugged again, a resigned, bitter smile on her face as her eyes flickered between Percy, Scanlan, and then finally, Vex. “It fell apart after he’d gotten what he wanted.” 

Vax’s fingers curled into his palms, nails digging in hard enough to hurt. The only sliver of validation he could find was watching Vex, fierce roiling fury in her eyes, do the same. 

The comedown of conference adrenaline hit Keyleth hard enough that she could have very easily taken the entire rest of the week to remember how her brain and body worked when not stressing every second of every day. As it was, she didn’t quite have that option. Though she and Vax had finished their presentations, the conference itself was a three day affair. Had they been regular PhD students, there would’ve been no real expectation for them to attend every presentation, panel, or event, but as students part of the Tal’dorei Ecological project, it would’ve been a bad look not to show up. 

An alarming amount of coffee got Keyleth and Vax through the rest of the conference, culminating in a final, formal dinner with very expensive champagne that Keyleth paid for with a splitting migraine all of the next day. With absolutely zero let up at all, the second year course she was tutoring had handed in their first big essays of the semester the previous Friday, and Keyleth spent most of Thursday glaring at her computer screen, willing herself to start marking them. With Friday came a birthday dinner for Alina, which admittedly, was fun, but took almost all of Keyleth’s last, lingering reserves of energy for the week. 

It hadn’t been just her, either. Vax’s schedule hadn’t cleared much since the conference, Pike and Grog had both found themselves on night shifts, Scanlan had been out most nights helping with gigs, Percy and Vex were both entangled in hectic work bureaucracy, and it seemed that the rest of their friends had been equally hit by an unexpectedly frantic October.

So by the time Saturday rolled around and everyone realised a party had been scheduled for that night, it was a very unanimous collective decision to change the plans into a very, very chill hangout instead. But while they had all been adequately stocked on alcohol for the planned party, the fridge and cupboard shelves were alarmingly barren, both for regular life and for any kind of hosting get together. 

“Fucking balls,” said Vex eloquently, staring at the pantry with a ferocity in her eyes that Keyleth would have believed could’ve made food magically appear before them. Alas, it didn’t. 

“Should we just cancel altogether?” Pike asked from a similar position staring at the fridge. “Or tell people to bring their own food.” 

“Yes, but then what about us ?” said Grog, frowning. 

“And I haven’t seen Zahra in weeks,” said Vex. “This is the only day she’s free before she goes back home for her cousin’s wedding.” 

Scanlan, Vax and Gilmore weren’t going to be there for the party-turned-get-together, all three of them helping out at a drag show fundraiser put on by a friend. 

(“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather we all came to that?” Vex had asked Vax, to which Vax made an amused sound and shot back, “Given that we all unanimously would’ve taken getting hit by a truck over having to host a party tonight, how exactly are you planning on finding the energy to go to a drag show, Stubby?”) 

“I gotta pick up some food and snacks for the volunteers before I go,” said Scanlan. “Why don’t I give us a ride to the store and I can drop you back home on my way to the bar?” 

“I could kiss you,” declared Pike. 

“Why don’t you?” Scanlan shot back, and received a flick to the forehead in response as Pike walked past, rolling her eyes. 

Which was how Keyleth, Vex, Percy and Scanlan wound up at their favourite little supermarket, end-of-week disheveled but uncaring as they trailed through the aisles. Despite her exhaustion, Keyleth found herself unexpectedly content. There was something about the last hints of the day’s sunshine peeking through the big front windows of the shop, almost engulfed by the bright fluorescence above them, that felt like time had slowed down for the first time all week. Something about Percy’s old man flannel pyjamas and Vex’s big, chunky glasses she never wore out of the house but that Keyleth thought really suited her, Scanlan’s drop-dead outfit that looked even more stellar with the rest of them around him, which in itself felt so silly that Keyleth wanted to laugh. She felt properly a part of this. This place, these people. 

“M&Ms or Malteasers?” asked Vex, hip leaning against the trolley as she stared intently at the Confectionary section. 

“Both,” said Keyleth, half joking. She didn’t expect Vex to take a jumbo sized packet of each and toss it into the trolley Percy was pushing. Keyleth made a slightly protesting noise. “Vex, nothing we’ve bought here constitutes a real meal.” 

“That’s what the others are for,” said Vex immediately, but when she glanced over and saw Percy’s arched eyebrow, she scowled with resignation. “Ugh. Fine. ” 

“I’ll make some kind of potato bake,” said Percy. “That’ll be quick and simple, and I can get out of the way once it’s in the oven.” 

“You’re better than me, I was just going to force them all to fend for themselves,” said Vex with an over dramatic sigh. 

“No you weren’t,” said Percy with a fond grin. “You would’ve caved eventually. You like them all too much.” 

“Take that back!” said Vex, jaw dropping in mock horror. 

“Okay, okay, gross you two,” interrupted Scanlan. “So we’re getting some ingredients for Percy. Anything else? We’re on a clock people, I’ve got drag queens to look after.” 

“I’m sure you do,” Vex snarked with a suggestive wink before tugging the trolley towards the Produce section. Percy hauled an enormous bag of potatoes up from the bottom shelf. Vex gathered a couple of onions, two leeks, and a bunch of fresh parsley to toss atop the rest of their shopping. Keyleth watched, struck by the unexpected intimacy of it; Vex, not only knowing what Percy had been referencing in his generic potato bake suggestion, but also knowing it well enough to get the ingredients for him. It made Keyleth’s chest pang a little and she couldn’t have explained why. 

She shook it off. Weird week. 

“Should we be making something else?” said Vex, frowning as she surveyed their groceries. “In case anyone doesn’t have time to make or bring something?” 

“ I was just going to let them fend for themselves , she said,” mocked Scanlan. 

“Be quiet,” sniped Vex. 

“I can make a green papaya salad,” suggested Keyleth, worming her way into the conversation before Vex and Scanlan could start outright bickering as people squeezed past them to reach the milk. Today wasn’t the day for it. “It’s easy to make lots of it. I think we’ve got basically everything else I need at home.” 

“Is that your dad’s recipe?” asked Vex with sudden, unexpected warmth and familiarity. 

Keyleth blinked, trying not to smile too wide. “Yeah! You remember it?” 

“Remember it?” echoed Vex. “I’ve described it in near pornographic detail to beg Zahra to try and recreate it. She’ll love getting to finally try the real thing.” 

Keyleth laughed, a little nervous, a little surprised, and quickly moved to expel the restless energy by snatching up the ingredients she needed. She was crouched near the floor, trying to find a not too ripe papaya, when she heard Scanlan say with genuine-sounding alarm, “Oh mother of fuck, shit -” 

“What?” asked Keyleth worriedly, glancing up. 

“Don’t look now, but Ryan is coming down the aisle.” 

“ What? ” Keyleth half-yelped, half-hissed, standing up with so much force that she slammed her head against one of the shelves and would have sent a crate of carrots tumbling to the ground had Vex’s hand not shot up to stop it. Keyleth brought her free palm to her head with a pained wince. 

“Are you alright?” asked Percy, eyebrows furrowed with concern. 

For a second, Keyleth wondered with horror whether she might start crying right here in this supermarket that, until now, she had liked quite a lot, in clothes that could very well be her pyjamas, head throbbing, holding an unripe papaya in her hands as someone she had up until this week sworn she would never speak to again currently walking towards her - 

“Keyleth,” said Ryan in surprise. “Hi.” 

Keyleth didn’t cry. Instead, out of nowhere, her entire body burned hot with an inferno of white hot rage. How fucking dare he be here? In Whitestone, at the university, at that conference, here , down the road from her fucking home . How dare he be this close, this tangled up in the places and the people she was determinedly building a home within, after how he’d left her in the last home she’d found herself trying to build into something real. 

“Hi there,” said Scanlan when Keyleth didn’t reply. “You were at the conference this week, right?” 

Ryan looked at Keyleth with a curious look in his eyes that made Keyleth seethe even more. “Yeah, I was. You too?” 

“Oh, no, no,” said Scanlan easily. “I was picking Vax and Keyleth up. Saw you and Keyleth chatting. Ryan, right?” 

“That’s me,” said Ryan. “You their chauffeur or something?” He said it jokingly, grinning. It wasn’t even remotely funny. Keyleth doubted he would’ve said it to Pike, or to Percy, if they’d been in Scanlan’s place. She wanted to hit Ryan across the face with the sack of potatoes Percy had deposited into their trolley. 

“No,” Scanlan said, his voice ever so slightly icier than before. “I’m Scanlan. I live with Keyleth. We all do.” 

If Ryan was fazed by Scanlan’s cooler demeanour, he didn’t show it. “Nice to meet you, Scanlan. And …?” He glanced at Percy, then Vex. It was a demanding silence, the kind left by someone who was used to having weight and expectation to throw around conversations. The memory of it made goosebumps flare on the back of Keyleth’s neck, an uncomfortable prickle crawling up the back of her spine. 

“Percy,” Percy said in a voice so flat that in any other situation, Keyleth would have snorted with laughter. 

“Vex,” Vex said. Unlike Percy, her voice was stone cold, filled with so much unmissable disdain that Keyleth almost expected Ryan to take an uneasy step back. She should have known that he was too fucking full of himself to do anything more than blink in slight surprise. 

“Vex,” he repeated. “From high school, huh?” 

“Yes,” said Keyleth, finally speaking to cut through the conversation the same way she had with Vax, before Vex or Ryan could say anything else. “Hi Ryan.” She wished, desperately, that she had whatever smooth, easygoing skills with small talk that Vax had employed to get them through that mortifying conversation earlier in the week. 

“This your local?” asked Ryan with all the easy conversationalism that Keyleth lacked. Panic clawed at her chest as she read the question beneath: do you live near here? 

“No, we’re en route to a friend’s place,” lied Scanlan without missing a beat. “Closest spot to them.” 

“Nice area,” said Ryan cordially, boringly. Keyleth furiously wondered how she’d ever found him even remotely interesting. 

“So, Ryan,” said Vex, dragging out his name with audible derision. If Keyleth hadn’t so badly wanted to see Ryan put in his place, she would’ve looked away from the second hand embarrassment of being on the receiving end of Vex’s judgement. “How long are you in town for?” Her question beneath: when the fuck are you leaving? It almost made Keyleth smile. 

“Just ‘til tomorrow evening,” said Ryan, leaning against one of the shelves. No produce went tumbling on him. Shame. “Wonder how many times we can squeeze running into each other again before I head off, huh Key?” He shot Keyleth a smirk, one with far more familiarity and closeness than he deserved from her. It felt like he was taking it, taking whatever he wanted from her. Like he had full control over what had happened between them, and could mould every moment, every conversation between them into exactly what he wanted it to be. The realisation of it made Keyleth’s ears ring a little. Key. Why did he still get to call her that? Why, after how much she’d grown and put walls up and mended her bruised and battered heart, was he still, still , walking all over her like she wasn’t even there? 

“Not many, I should think,” said Vex sharply. “Keyleth’s got plans tomorrow.” Keyleth did not have plans tomorrow. “Which, speaking of, we have somewhere to get to this evening so we should head off - friends to see and all that. Safe travels out of Whitestone tomorrow.” And without even waiting for a reply, she curled her hand around Keyleth’s arm and pulled her down the aisle, Keyleth still clutching a papaya in her right hand, the two of them leaving Scanlan and Percy with both their trolley of groceries and Ryan. 

With Vex’s very insistent pull and Keyleth not resisting at all, they cleared the bakery, the deli, and their house’s personal favourite - the international aisle - in record time. Vex found a spot mostly hidden in a sharp corner, a blind spot from both the front and the back of the store. The shelves were an explosion of colour - bright, colourful ramen packets, bean pastes and chilli oils, vegetable pickles, salsas, boxed candies that Keyleth couldn’t read the packaging for but looked delicious. Opposite, a few little crates held a smaller selection of produce. These were mushrooms Keyleth had never seen before, odd sized fruits she couldn’t place, spiky vegetables she’d seen on Scanlan’s fridge shelf a couple times. The sight of them made her suddenly, very bizarrely aware of the papaya still clutched in her hand. 

She’d been holding it so tight, her nails had dug into the skin. 

“I guess I have to buy this now,” she said. Her voice sounded far away in her own ears, oddly calm. 

Vex eased the papaya from her hands. “Isn’t this too ripe?” 

“Yes,” said Keyleth, trying not to think about how or why Vex knew that, remembered that, because that would end up being why she started crying. 

Vex put the papaya down in a crate with a different indistinguishable yellow fruit. “Well. He was about as delightful as a wet towel.” 

Keyleth snorted, every bit as undignified as she felt, and sagged against the shelf of ramen. “Fuck. Fuck. ” She could feel her voice wavering with every syllable dragged out of her mouth. “I um. I think I need to go.” 

“Percy and Scanlan can get the groceries,” said Vex. “Let’s walk home.” 

“What if he sees?” asked Keyleth, craning her head around the corner they were hidden behind, heart thumping in her ears at the idea that Ryan might be anywhere nearby. 

“There’s a shorter way home that avoids the main roads,” said Vex. “Passes by Gilmore’s house, we could pick him up on the way.” 

Keyleth didn’t bother pointing out that they looked more ready for a teenage sleepover than an adult dinner party. Vex wouldn’t have suggested it if she wasn’t okay with it. And the thought of seeing Gilmore made some of Keyleth’s scattered, festering anxiety calm a little. 

“Okay,” she said in a small voice. “Let’s go.” 

To everybody’s credit, it didn’t come up for hours, the same way it had earlier in the week. 

Vex texted Percy and Scanlan, then she and Keyleth slipped out the side entrance of the shop. They immediately ducked into a side road and walked quickly in silence until they reached the more familiar houses and shops and cafes of Gilmore’s neighbourhood. Keyleth wasn’t sure if she also texted Gilmore to give him some kind of heads up, but if he was surprised to see them, their outfits, and the odd, crackling tension radiating off Keyleth, he didn’t show it. He ushered them in warmly, told them he just needed another ten minutes to finish getting ready but to make themselves at home, make a cup of tea if they wanted, and if Vex could turn the stove off in a couple minutes, that would be great. 

Keyleth let the distraction of Gilmore’s house push against the noise in her head. She tried to fix how detached she felt from her body by touching all the strange and lovely trinkets and ornaments on the mantelpiece, bookshelves and windowsills. She forced herself to remember how to talk to make easy conversation with one of Gilmore’s housemates, and ignored Vex’s sharp, thoughtful, bordering on concerned eyes on her the whole time.

Before Keyleth knew it, she was swept up in the relief and bustle of the hangout they’d all spent most of the day dreading. The house was filled with people, with laughter and music and conversations about anything and everything other than Ryan fucking Walsh, and Keyleth could let out enough of a breath to pretend that she’d never seen him today at all. 

(She didn’t make the papaya salad though.) 

Gilmore tugged Keyleth, Alina and Percy into a couple of games of cards. Keyleth was tasked with helping Jarrett organise all the food on the dining table. With Scanlan out, Keyleth found herself and Zahra in charge of queuing up music, which was its own terrifying responsibility. 

It was hours and hours later - the evening softened by a rich aroma of the patchwork dishes still on the table, Keyleth squeezed between Gilmore and Alina, the sour taste of anger and bitterness coaxed away by the floral warmth of the red wine Zahra had brought - that Jarrett asked, “Highs and lows of the week, go.” 

And when, after a flurry of answers, some joking, some genuine, others taking more consideration, attention then fell to Keyleth, she surprised even herself by saying, “High, my conference presentation. Low, my ex being in Whitestone for the conference. Extra low, running into him today.” 

“Wait, what? ” exclaimed Pike, eyes wide. “You guys saw him there? Is that why you and Vex came back separately?” 

Keyleth hummed her assent, taking a large and indelicate gulp of wine. 

“What was the verdict Vex, Percy?” asked Zahra, eyes narrow with curiosity. 

“Somehow, worse than I imagined when you described him earlier in the week,” said Percy unforgivingly. “Far, far too full of himself.” 

“Just gross in every way,” agreed Vex. “The way he talked, the way he talked about you?” 

“Oh, I’ve known about this man for two minutes and I already hate this,” said Alina with a shudder. 

“Why did you even date him, Key?” said Vex, pushing her hair out of her face and looking somewhere between bewildered and exasperated. “He’s such an unbearable dick.” 

It was taking absolutely every ounce of Keyleth’s willpower and maturity to not preen at the nickname slipping from Vex’s lips, absolutely coaxed free from the wine and the comfort around them and the familiarity of everybody else having started using it in earnest over the past few weeks. It was more than enough that Vex had started to occasionally instigate genuine conversations with Keyleth - like this one - every so often. More than enough for Vex to have been so patient and protective this evening. To get nickname privileges back? She suspected that maybe, Vex was trying to rewrite Ryan having said it in the store. Keyleth just hoped it wasn’t out of pity. 

“I don’t know ,” she said. The anger that had been taking her completely by surprise these past few days, hardening rather than fading away, finally cracked just a little. Beneath it was something far more vulnerable: humiliation, hurt, and heartbreak. Keyleth swallowed. “I was twenty, he was sweet on me, I was still kinda new to Zephrah.” 

“Oh c’mon,” said Vex, shaking her head. “That is not a good enough reason. You just said yes to the first boy who was nice to you? Keyleth. ”  

“It’s not like I had people lining up to date me,” Keyleth shot back. “We can’t all be you , Vex.” 

See, mouth, enter foot. 

The slowly growing warmth and openness in Vex’s expression seemed to drop in an instant, something closed off and unreadable replacing it. It reminded Keyleth far too much of the look she’d still had no way of deciphering on Vax. 

Vex looked away, very clearly extracting herself from the conversation. Panic - different from when it was about Ryan - swept through Keyleth’s chest, leaving her cold and clammy.

Fuck , just when things were starting to feel slightly normal between them -

“We’ve all been there and made stupid decisions over people who didn’t deserve a second of our time,” said Pike, gentle and diplomatic but with a careful eye on Vex that Keyleth also didn’t understand. 

All week, she’d felt closer to these people than ever. Their support in the lead up to the conference, the way they’d closed ranks around her with Ryan. Keyleth felt a part of this world they’d built without her, this family she’d been so welcomed into. 

But the endless, enormous cavern of distance between her and the rest of them felt ever expanding in moments like this. 

What had she said? What had been the thing that hurt? 

The insinuation that Vex was easy pickings for men? The implication that she’d slept around? The idea that because Vex had options, she wouldn’t end up with people like Ryan? 

Keyleth hadn’t meant any of that. None of it was true, anyway. 

Vex had always used her attractiveness and desirability like armour, even back when they were teenagers. That had been when Keyleth and Pike were worried it would catch the attention of the wrong guy, when Vax fumed at the thought of anyone staring lecherously at his twin, and Grog promised Vax that he’d beat up anyone who even thought about looking at Vex the wrong way. A lot of it had been a mask, then. Keyleth knew that with certainty. Vex didn’t like herself enough, didn’t have any reason amidst Syldor’s despicable disdain to find any inherent confidence in who she was or how she looked. 

That seemed to have changed now. Vex had a surety set in her shoulders, a glint in her eye, and an ease with which she held herself that glowed with hard earned, irrefutable confidence. It occurred to Keyleth suddenly that she had no idea when that shift in Vex had happened, how many years it had taken for it to slowly form, to become as unbreakable as it seemed to be now. God knows it had taken Keyleth years , after Vax, after Ryan. And Vex had had much more shit to work through. 

Keyleth found herself overwhelmingly grateful that Vax had been busy tonight. She knew the sharp, protective side of him that came out over Vex better than most people did; she’d seen it, been awed by it, and forced herself onto the receiving end of it many a time to push back and remind him that Vex was more than capable of making her own decisions, with or without him.

If she’d just taken one big, clumsy step into some very real, very fragile hurt that Vex had endured sometime in the last six years, Vax wouldn’t have hesitated to propel this whole night into uncomfortable awkwardness by lashing out in his sister’s defense. Keyleth wasn’t sure that she was comfortable enough, settled enough, to take whatever it was he had to give without it causing some kind of rupture between them. 

Things seemed to be slowly - very slowly - mending between her and Vex. Perhaps she’d get the chance to apologise for being wine-drunkenly careless with her words in the days to come. 

She couldn’t tell exactly what had been up with Vax for the past few days, although there was no doubt in her mind that it was Ryan-related.

Perhaps it was the spike of protectiveness she’d seen countless times when still in high school, usually in defense of Vex, her, or Pike, now with nowhere to go because they were adults and she had dealt with things on her own, four and a half years ago, and his anger couldn’t be taken out with sharp words and punches the way it would have been back then. He was old enough to know that bruised knuckles and a bloodied nose wouldn’t help.

Or, Keyleth couldn’t help thinking, he could be brooding because of the unwelcome reminder Ryan had provided: she’d been off in Zephrah, dating other people, living a life that didn’t include him. (Or rather, wouldn’t have included him, if she’d been able to keep half-formed questions and daydreams out of her mind, rather than returning to them over and over again throughout the years she’d been away. This was not the time to admit that moving on - although she had tried it - had been virtually impossible with him still lingering at the corners of her mind.)

She felt better about everything with Ryan, at the very least. Everyone’s insistence on hating him on principle, once finding out what he was like to Keyleth, had certainly been a fond kind of relief. 

Things were weird again between Vex and her, which was going to be keeping Keyleth up at night. It wasn’t like Keyleth had any intention to let whatever faux pax she had made settle between them; she’d apologised this morning, both of them squished into the bathroom to brush their teeth. 

“I’m really sorry about what I said yesterday, Vex,” she said, forcing herself not to say it through a mouthful of toothpaste. 

“What you said?” Vex repeated. “What do you mean?” 

Keyleth swallowed. “Um. Y’know? We were talking about Ryan and you were asking about why I dated him and I … I kind of made it seem like you had it better off because guys actually paid attention to you which was a shitty thing to say and I really didn’t mean it like that -” 

“Oh!” said Vex, and it sounded too casual to be real at all. “Don’t even worry about it. I know what you meant.”

“Yeah, but -” 

“You’ve had quite a week,” said Vex with a finality that Keyleth couldn’t argue with. “So it’s fine. And at least he’s leaving today, hm?” 

“Yeah,” said Keyleth, clutching her toothbrush about as tightly as she had the papaya the day before. “Seriously though, Vex -” 

“ Keyleth. ” Vex’s voice was sharper now, bordering on frustration and Keyleth’s mouth promptly snapped shut. Vex smiled with a seemingly believable reassurance. Keyleth didn’t believe it for a second. But the conversation was clearly over, and Vex repeated, “It’s fine,” one more time before leaving Keyleth to brush her teeth. 

So even though Ryan was gone, it felt like he had sledgehammered his way through Keyleth’s life, once again. It didn’t matter that Vex said they were okay, or that Vax had finally shaken off his very clear discomfort about Ryan’s presence, or that everyone had rallied to hate him, or that he was back in Wildemount, far, far, away. He was still in the shadows, in the back of Keyleth’s mind, in the prickling on her skin and the static in her head. 

It had been Scanlan, in the end, who had finally set Keyleth’s gnawing, festering anxiety and unease to rest, at least for now. 

“Did he hurt you?” he’d asked, his voice unusually quiet, calm and serious. 

It was abrupt, blunt and acute in the way that only Scanlan and Vex ever really were. It felt like it came out of nowhere, because Ryan hadn’t come up all day, and they - all of them, the whole house - were spending the afternoon at Taylor’s , the favourite bowling alley this end of town. Keyleth and Scanlan had offered to order food for the group, and were waiting by the counter in easy, companionable quiet. 

Except it wasn’t out of nowhere, not really. Because Scanlan had been the one, other than Vax, to see Ryan first. He’d been the one to ask that first day after dinner, and he’d then seen exactly what Ryan was like in person at the store yesterday. He’d seen the uncharacteristic silence that had fallen over Keyleth, had carried the conversation when she couldn’t, had watched her shrink into herself uncomfortably with every second Ryan spent with them. 

Keyleth laughed nervously, glancing around her to see if any of their friends were nearby. They weren’t. She knew they weren’t. Vex had a first place title to defend. Vax had a first place title to dethrone. “What are you talking about?” she said, pushing her hair away from her face a little restlessly. 

Scanlan tilted his head. With an unexpected start, Keyleth realised that he would let her drop it. He’d take whatever deflection she clumsily stumbled through if she wanted to. But in the tense, loaded silence between them, Keyleth also realised that Scanlan would react the exact same way if her answer was yes or no. 

There was enough going on around them that Keyleth could pretend to have not heard, or to say not here , or even, because they really hadn’t known each other that long, to say that he wasn’t the person she was going to talk about this with. But unlike anyone else Keyleth had ever talked to about this, Scanlan hadn’t looked at her like there was a right or wrong answer. She knew there was, technically. 

It was that yes, Ryan did hurt her. He treated her like shit and made her feel like shit and took advantage of her kindness and naivety and trust in a way she knew no one will ever do again, because she was more afraid than she ever had been before to let people in like that. 

But Keyleth also knew plenty of friends who had been in worse relationships. It wasn’t black or white, she never would’ve insinuated otherwise, but she had been able to turn her back on Ryan and break up with him and move on. 

So her eventual attempt to answer Scanlan was a little fumbling, a little unsure. “I mean - yes, technically, but it wasn’t - not like -” She huffed, looking down. The curtain of hair that fell to cover her face blocked the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes from Scanlan’s sight, but it wouldn’t have mattered. It was still too clear, too raw, when she instead, quiet and truthful and careful, said “He took advantage of who I was then.” 

It surprised her when Scanlan’s predictable, “I’m sorry,” was devoid of any pity. 

Keyleth shook her head, gave him an atrociously fake smile that didn’t even come close to meeting her eyes. “It’s fine. I learnt from it.” 

Scanlan hummed, leaning against the counter next to them. “I guess. I dunno - I just kinda hate the idea that everything’s gotta be a lesson, y’know? It doesn’t all have to have some kind of bigger purpose in making you a better person. Makes you feel like you have to be okay with it, or have moved on and left it behind you, or forgiven the people that did it to you, or risen above their bad choices or mistakes that they get to just walk away from.” He shrugged, looking at her with such a soft, understanding expression. The hot, itchy roar of anger that Keyleth had started to wonder if she would ever be without eased down to embers. “Sometimes,” Scanlan said, “it’s allowed to just be a shitty thing. And you’re allowed to still be angry, or hurt, or a little fucked up about it.” 

Keyleth had held tight to that. It made it easier to breathe, somehow, feeling like the hurt was allowed. Like she didn’t have to pretend. Like whatever complicated in between, all the messy broken parts of her Ryan had left behind, could just be there, didn’t need a quick fix for her to still be her.

She’d come second to last at bowling, only beating Percy who despite having grown up doing literal shooting and archery, seemed to have truly atrocious aim and zero arm muscles when it came to bowling. 

She, Pike and Vax had cobbled together leftovers from the previous night and had dinner on the floor around the coffee table, Trinket deciding to settle himself lovingly at Keyleth’s side with his head on her thigh. 

And it was nice, now, after the week they’d all had, for the house to fall quiet, for everyone to retreat to their preferred corners and sanctuaries, all the tension and busyness falling away.

Keyleth tapped the top of her pen rhythmically against her open notebook, then meticulously began to copy the list of research questions Vax had written down for her earlier in the week into her own notes. His neat handwriting spread across the page, the perfect cursive Syldor had drilled into the twins the moment they moved to Syngorn still recognisable, but a little looser at the edges, no longer picture perfect but feeling far more like it was his . 

It wasn’t as though she and Vax had been ignoring the topic of Ryan. It would have been impossible to do anyway, with the way Ryan had repeatedly come up in conversation, with his invasive, pervading presence in Whitestone all week.  But she’d been quietly waiting for whatever seemed to be on Vax’s back burner to finish simmering, and this evening after dinner, he’d joined her in her room after she’d headed upstairs.

Keyleth jotted down a few bullet points beneath the first question, based on the answer she remembered giving the professor who’d asked it when he’d come to speak to her over lunch. She switched out to a fresh pen so she could add additional thoughts alongside, the green biro sliding easily across her paper. 

She’d closed the door behind her on the off chance they ended up having a conversation that wasn’t for anyone else’s ears, but she didn’t need them to, necessarily. At the heart of it all, Vax was her best friend. He was easy-going and kind, interested in so many things that interested her and always so keen to share them with her. He was sincere and affectionate and smarter than he ever gave himself credit for. He’d sat in the audience of their conference earlier in the week and made notes on her behalf without her even thinking to ask him, he’d tugged her back into this bubble of familial joy that she’d been missing with his arms open wide. He was one of her favourite people in the world. If he wanted some time to be a little funny about their history, she would let him sit quietly against the headboard of her bed and have it.

She’d almost forgotten that he used to do this. More often than not, it would be when she’d tucked herself away in the stacks of their school library during a free period, and something or other had thrown him for a loop. He’d come and find her, and pull up a chair. His work would stay in his bag, but he’d watch her pen move across her paper until gradually, the tension in his shoulders would wane.

She left him to it, until eventually, quietly, he said “You told us it felt like Ryan had only gotten close to you to sleep with you.”

Keyleth put a cap on her pen.

She turned so she was facing him, then gave him a small nod, remaining silent and watching as his teeth nervously chewed on his lower lip. After a while, Vax reluctantly dragged his gaze up to meet hers. “Did I do that too?” he asked quietly.

Keyleth stared at him. It took a moment for the question to sink in, absurd as it was, and the words lining themselves up in order in her head so she could replay them didn’t help the swirling confusion in her chest or the deep, leaden weight sinking down towards her toes. “Vax - what? ”

The opening and closing of his mouth gave her just enough time to pull herself together, and she dumped her pen haphazardly on top of her open notebook, then crossed the floor, taking a seat in front of him on the bed with one leg pulled up onto the covers. He was looking at her with the kind of expression that had his whole heart on display, nerves chipping away at any kind of mask he’d had up before, unable to look away until he had some kind of answer. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. “ No , Vax,” she said vehemently, “not at all. Did you - you haven’t thought that all this time?”

He shook his head quickly. “Only since you told us what happened between you and Ryan,” he told her, offering her a hint of relief. She could hear the truth in the words. Although there was an edge to them too, and the answer had come so fast, and something still didn’t sit quite right about it all. Vax’s name left her lips imploringly, barely a breath, and she allowed her fingers to creep across the covers to brush his, watching as he chewed the inside of his lip further and eventually came to some kind of conclusion. He took a breath. “I never jumped to thinking you’d’ve thought our whole friendship was me trying to sleep with you, not before you telling us about Ryan the other night put that in my head,” he told her.

“But?”

Vax hesitated, reluctant to finish the admission he’d started. “But … if I’m honest, there was always a whisper at the back of my mind that wondered if - I don’t know … if you felt pressured into it. And that’s why you ran.”

He looked devastated by even the possibility, and Keyleth felt her heart cleave itself in two. “ Vax ,” she repeated, her lips curling around the syllable just as affectionately as they’d once traced across the faint birthmark just below his ribcage. She didn’t know what to say to him - there were so many things she’d spent years wanting to voice but the flickers of fear that accompanied them flared up and she swallowed them down, instead pulling him into a hug and curling her arms around his shoulders.

Fuck. 

Fuck.

“Never,” she murmured fiercely against Vax’s temple, as if proximity to his ear would better allow her words to sink in. “Not once, I promise. Not for a second .” 

He deflated against her, years worth of relief washing through him, and she crushed him tighter. When he brought his arms up to wrap around her too, she tucked her face into his shoulder and exhaled. “Never,” she repeated emphatically, and his fingers curled into the fabric of her sweater.

The worst part was that really, Ryan had no part in this. This was before they’d even met, and it was all her doing. She was the one who’d vanished without the goodbye he’d expected, and left him to draw conclusions like this in her absence. 

Keyleth’s breath was warm where it fell against Vax’s skin, and she repeated herself in a soft murmur. Maybe if she said it enough, it could ease the guilt from not having had this conversation sooner. Of making him think this, by the way she’d disappeared. She curled her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck as he held her, exhaling softly but not letting go of her, absorbing the reassurance she was offering through his skin.

“You were one of the reasons I kicked him to the curb when he started treating me like shit, you know,” she admitted quietly. “I never forgot what it felt like with you - even just for one night.” 

Vax’s thumb ran across her back and she was grateful for the way his shoulder hid the flush of her cheeks from view. She brushed her own thumb over his neck, echoing the rhythm of his touch and hoping he would understand how impossible it felt to say everything she wanted him to know, but how hard she was trying. “I remember us laughing and having fun, and you were … I felt so safe with you. That’s part of the reason why I never… y’know… until I dated that jerk in second year - I didn't ever want that night with you to feel less perfect than it was in my memory. Is that stupid?”

“Not at all,” came Vax’s immediate reply, his voice equally muffled but thick with emotion.

She took a deep breath and untangled herself from him, but she caught his hands as they dropped down to his lap and curled her fingers determinedly around them. “As soon as the way he treated me changed, you were who I thought of. And every time I thought about it more, I became more sure of why I needed to end things.”

“My voice in your head telling you your boyfriend was an asshole?” Vax asked, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. 

Keyleth returned it. “Actually, the voice in my head was more Vex,” she teased, and Vax huffed a breath that was almost a chuckle.

His cheekbone had an indented line across it from the shoulder seam of her sweater and Keyleth couldn’t help reaching out, her thumb brushing lightly across it. His eyes followed her, his breath caught in his lungs in a way that had had her stomach tangling itself in knots. “You think possibly this is something we should have talked about before I moved in?” she asked, not quite teasing but something adjacent, her words light enough that Vax would huff in response again rather than take her seriously.

His smile, this time, was easier. A little sheepish. “Maybe,” he admitted.

There was no way to put how completely, overwhelmingly fond she was of him into words without opening a door that it wasn’t the right time for, but she squeezed just above his knee and hoped he could tell regardless. He cleared his throat slightly, gaze flickering over to the abandoned notes on her desk. “What did I interrupt?”

“I hadn’t gotten very far.” She shrugged. 

He tilted his head inquisitively so she took the change in topic for what it was - an escape route - and swiped the notebooks off her desk to spread out between them, letting him tug the conversation back to more familiar territory. (And if she hugged him a little more tightly than usual before he went upstairs to bed, well… maybe they both needed it today, and maybe that was okay.)

Chapter Text

One of the best things about living in a big house was getting to watch other people cook. Keyleth had perched herself at the breakfast bar in the kitchen after arriving back from university, and had spent the last hour and a half reading the latest edition of Ecology Direct , skimming some articles and reading others more thoroughly. Whilst she’d been there, several people had come and gone. First Grog, who’d been running late for an evening shift at work, but had whipped up a quick spaghetti carbonara for dinner before rushing out of the door, filling the air with the crisp sizzling and rich smokiness of pancetta. (It was a Wilhand Trickfoot recipe, and one of Grog’s favourites.) Cracked black pepper had fallen onto the steaming plate, along with melting pecorino as Grog grated a mountain of it to finish off his masterpiece. Scanlan followed, also eating an early dinner before the concert he was going to on the other side of town. He reheated leftovers from the night before, the creaminess of his coconut chicken curry mingling into the air, and he sat with Keyleth as he ate it. 

She hadn’t expected, at their first introduction, that she’d get on with Scanlan as well as she did. She found him fascinating - his work, his creativity, his worldview - even if at times, his bold, roguish bawdiness made her flush. He treaded carefully with it though, knowing the time and place for inappropriate humour, otherwise settling into someone who was sharply observant and undeniably smart. It was easy then, to see why he’d slotted so well into this group of friends, but truthfully it was his thoughtfulness that stood out to Keyleth above everything else. 

After a few mouthfuls of curry, he nudged her ankle with his foot. Keyleth glanced up to find the same gentle look on his face that he’d had in the bowling alley; that warm kind of concern that made her feel so safe in his presence, but simultaneously had her wanting to shift away, to stop him from seeing right through her.

“I’m okay,” she said quietly. Perhaps a little too quickly. His lips curled at the corner, into a faintly amused smile at her having read him so well, and maybe also at how easily he’d already learned to read her. 

“I’m sure you are,” he said. (Almost certainly not true, because Scanlan had been one of the few unfortunate people privy to her near-breakdown in the grocery store. She appreciated him saying it to humour her, nevertheless.) “Look, seeing an ex is usually shitty in any situation. Seeing one you swore you’d never see again? Even worse. Especially if he comes with mountains of baggage you’d decided was a problem for later and now later comes knocking unceremoniously at your door.” 

Keyleth snorted with laughter, resisting the urge to shoot a wry smile in Scanlan’s direction. Undeniably smart, alright. That being said, she couldn’t let him know that he’d hit the nail on the head when it wasn’t exactly her nail. 

Vax had made a very deliberate choice in keeping his and Keyleth’s history to himself. While Keyleth was grateful for it and the chance it gave her to reforge these relationships on her own terms, it meant that any of Vax’s gnawing anxieties, all the insecurities that had made a home for themselves in his head all these years, were firmly off the table in conversations with anyone else. Despite her relief, Keyleth couldn’t help but wish Vax would take the weight and memory of all this off his shoulders, give it to someone else to smooth out for him. At least Keyleth could carry some of it, now that she knew. 

“I am okay,” she said to Scanlan. “Honest.” 

Scanlan’s gaze was piercing, even in all of its care. It didn’t take long for Keyleth to cave, dropping her eyes down to her laptop keyboard. She traced the chipped R key, tried to wedge her nail into where the plastic was perpetually stiff as Scanlan’s fork clinked against his bowl, the sound of unspoken, thoughtful patience. 

“It caught me off guard,” Keyleth admitted, eventually. “Seeing him, obviously but … seeing him here. ” 

“He wasn’t supposed to be here,” said Scanlan and Keyleth finally looked up with surprise, finding a knowing expression waiting for her on his face. 

“Yeah,” she said, more of an exhale than anything else. “It’s not like I expected to run into him when I was back in Zephrah - I stopped wasting my time thinking about him a long time ago. But he was there , y’know? I knew he was. I’d hear his name around the university and I knew which coffee shops to avoid and I recognised the voices of the people he was friends with. It was a part of the background noise of being there. I didn’t realise how aware I was of the space he took up in the periphery of my life, even after we broke up, until I stopped having to look over my shoulder for him.” A bitter, icy laugh slipped past her lips, surprising even Keyleth with how little it sounded like her. It felt ironic that that day of the conference, she’d looked up, searching for Vax, and instead found Ryan walking towards her with unearned confidence. Hadn’t that been how all this had happened in the first place? “Whatever baggage I have to deal with here, he wasn’t meant to be a part of it.” 

Scanlan hummed. “What about now?” he asked. “Now that you know he’s gone, that he’s left you with whatever baggage he stirred up. How does it feel?” 

It was simple and groundbreaking in the same way the conversation in the bowling alley had been; his sometimes, it’s allowed to just be a shitty thing had rewritten Keyleth’s entire inner monologue about Ryan in a single moment. Scanlan seemed to be good at that, she was learning. 

“It feels …” Keyleth’s eyebrows furrowed as she searched for the truth of it that she’d been avoiding looking at head on. When she found it, it was the last thing she expected. “Freeing.” The surprise of her reply tasted light on her tongue. New, unexpected. Bright with something brimming on hopeful. 

Scanlan’s lips curved upwards. “Like the world didn’t end, right? Felt like it should’ve, then it didn’t. All his assholery and bullshit didn’t have any power over you or your life here after all.” 

“Yeah,” said Keyleth with a soft laugh. “Exactly that. I hadn’t …” She laughed, short and relieved. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.” 

Because in the end, Ryan had been the reason she and Vax had finally had the conversation they’d been sidestepping around for three months, desperately needed and years overdue. She could never be grateful for Ryan waltzing back into her life, but she was grateful for the honesty it tugged out of Vax, for her chance to set the record straight with him. 

In the end, Ryan had been what made Keyleth finally feel like she truly belonged here in Whitestone, with these people. Their fury over dinner when Keyleth offered hazy but telling crumbs about her and Ryan’s relationship had been such a fierce, immediate show of indignant support that Keyleth had laid awake in bed that night, and rather than thinking about Ryan, about how he made her skin crawl, she’d thought about Pike’s steady hand on her wrist, the murderous expression in both Percy and Grog’s eyes, the bitter, sickened understanding on Scanlan’s face, and the rage pouring from both of the twins. It had settled deep within her, thrumming in her veins like a comforting heartbeat. 

And in the end, Ryan had given Keyleth at least some kind of surety that Vex did, in fact, still care about her. Vex had been the most unexpected part of how it had all unfolded - her rage, in particular. Keyleth had watched her fingers curl into her palm and her teeth clench, oddly satisfying after what felt like months of passive reactions to anything Keyleth said or did.

She’d honestly never been sure how much she mattered to Vex, if she even did at all. It felt unfairly harsh to consider, and confusing too, because they were friends, they’d been friends, Keyleth had never really doubted that. But Keyleth and Vax had been the ones to bond so quickly, connect through something so raw and vulnerable that yes, Vex shared too, but that she shied away from where Vax didn’t. She was more closed off, aloof, sharp-edged and sharp-tongued, beautiful and brilliant and endlessly too cool to be hanging out with Keyleth. It always felt like Keyleth couldn’t figure out what to say or do to get Vex’s consistent approval, that there was a distance Keyleth could never quite cross no matter how many years passed with Elaina and Vilya’s anniversaries tucked inside them, no matter how many notes they passed in class, laughter they shared with the others, afternoons with Trinket in Keyleth’s backyard, plans they made for the future. Vex was one of Keyleth’s best friends, and Keyleth had no doubt Vex would have said the same, but it’d always felt a little like when the twins were free of Syngorn and could spread their wings, Vex would be glad to find other people who were much more her style. She and Vax wouldn’t be glued to the hip, keeping each other afloat in their nightmare of a home, and they would finally have the chance to discover versions of themselves that were just theirs alone. Even if Keyleth had been there for that, she had always assumed she would be Vax’s in that new world outside of Emon, and to Vex, she would just be ‘an old friend from high school.’ 

Which, Keyleth supposed, was what she was now. 

The idea of it hurt more than Keyleth knew what to do with. 

Vex had mattered so, so much. She was so deeply, intricately embedded in the person Keyleth had become in Zephrah. Someone more confident, more assertive, more diplomatic. Someone who tried to see things several steps ahead rather than what was right in front of her in a single moment. Someone comfortable in her own body, in her strengths, her smarts, and her faults. 

Keyleth had meant what she told Vax: it had been Vex’s voice in her head pushing her to break up with Ryan. Vex had always been the one Keyleth turned to with sex-and-dating-related uncertainties, back when everyone at school had begun dating and sleeping together and Keyleth realised she was hopelessly out of her depth. Both then and now, Keyleth couldn’t have explained why she went to Vex and not Pike, when Vex was the first of them all to lose her virginity and Pike had been far more in Keyleth’s boat for a number of years. Perhaps it was that at least about this , Pike was sure of herself, of her sexuality, of who and how she was attracted to people, of the difference between things she wanted to do and things there were social expectations to do. Meanwhile, no matter how much confidence and charm and witty self-assurance Vex projected to the world, Keyleth had been one of the few people who knew how much of a facade she put on. Syldor’s disdainful voice in Vex’s ear had left her standing on such shaky ground with what about her had worth, what it was people wanted, what it was she wanted, conflating desire with worth and attraction with respect, and treading murky, dangerous waters that seemed to lap at Keyleth’s feet too. 

It was Vex who’d wiped away tears of frustration, who had fiercely sworn that Keyleth wasn’t wrong, and that it was okay not to want what everyone around her seemed to. 

Last week, around the dinner table, there’d been a moment where Keyleth half-thought Vex might swipe her car keys from the basket by the front door and head to the university’s temporary guest accommodation with a baseball bat over one shoulder. If looks could kill, when they’d bumped into Ryan in the supermarket, that would have been the last time he breathed the same air as her. Or any air. 

It had something undeniably warm curling in Keyleth’s stomach, although faintly disbelieving.

Part of her couldn’t help but think, recklessly, hysterically, that Ryan could come tornadoing back through her life if he wanted to and Keyleth would let him, if it meant getting relive the weight of Vax’s arms around her, his breath warm against her neck, or Vex’s protective fury, the unthinking familiarity of Key falling from her lips as though it hadn’t been six years since she last said it. 

“Closure, right?” said Scanlan, his voice jolting Keyleth back to the present. He seemed to have clocked that Keyleth was a little far away, tone softening. “Hell of a thing.” 

Keyleth made a thoughtful noise under her breath as he took a sip of his drink. “I don’t know if that was all of it,” she said. It couldn’t be, when so much of her relationship with Ryan, the things she hadn’t gotten closure for, were actually open ended threads that traced back to Vax. “When things fell apart with Ryan, I had friends in Zephrah who were there. I never felt alone . But … the people I really wanted, desperately, were here. They were the ones who’d been around when I figured things out, y’know? Being -” For a moment, the words dried up in her throat and the back of her neck grew hot. But Scanlan shifted, his knee pressing gentle and grounding, against her thigh, and he gave her a small nod. Words unfroze. “ - asexual. It got to be something I was certain of and comfortable embodying before I even went out into the world because the twins and Pike and Grog helped me settle into it over those years we were trying to figure out who the fuck we were together. I left some part of that vulnerability in their childhood bedrooms for them to keep safe and I -” Her voice cracked a little. “I didn’t realise I wouldn’t get the chance to come back for it. I guess having them here, when Ryan came back, felt a little like finally getting that piece of myself back. Different kind of closure, maybe.” 

Scanlan was looking at her thoughtfully, with the weight of understanding behind his gaze. Which was why she felt so safe telling him this, Keyleth realised quietly. She fought the urge to shrug and distract from the conversation, despite the itch beneath her skin, because Scanlan seemed to be considering his words carefully, for her. 

He pushed the remnants of his curry around his bowl, briefly checked the time on his phone before flipping it over, leaving it face down on the countertop. “The first time I properly dated a guy, the break-up felt like losing a piece of myself I’d fought so hard for,” he told her. His gaze flicked down to his fingernails, painted a deep navy by Vax the night before, prior to a club night the two of them had gone to with Gilmore. “It wasn’t, but I was sixteen and I’d tied so much of my queerness to him, and it … hurt.” He laughed, an unexpectedly fond sound. “Hurt is an understatement, really. Broke me, is probably closer to it. And immediately, I wanted to turn back time so I could sob on the shoulder of the first person I came out to.” 

It wasn’t as though Keyleth hadn’t known exactly why Scanlan had been one of the people to take Vax’s hand and pull him into the world he’d spent all those years in Emon searching for. But as early evening sunlight made the wood of the breakfast bar gleam golden, and caught the curling, new leaves of the herbs on the windowsill, and the sun-faded, colourful spines of books on the shelf, sending dappled colours flickering over the walls and floor, Keyleth realised Scanlan was reaching out to pull her into that world too. 

“I grew up with them,” Scanlan said softly. “Just one of those people who was always there in one of those tiny windows of your life. Bike rides in the summer, walking home from school the long way round, your mom getting you to run down the road and ask if you could use some of their milk because ours had gone off.” 

Keyleth exhaled a soft chuckle, reminiscently fragile. “Yeah, I remember those.” 

“I moved around a lot,” Scanlan explained. “My mom was a journalist and we didn’t spend much more than a few years in one place. It was just me ‘n her so around the world we went. But that kid who lived down the road … they were the one regret I had. The one person I figured I’d always be able to come back to, keep in contact. But their family moved away too, after we did, and I never found out where. And all those years later, they were still who I wanted to talk to when I got my heart broken, because they’d been there when I first worked it all out, and I knew they understood what had come before.”

Keyleth swallowed, and because Scanlan was still so very gently holding her gaze, she nodded.

Scanlan’s lips twisted up into a bittersweet, aching smile. “They had the keys to that part of me in a way no one else could, because they’d been right there with me the first time I unlocked the door.”

Keyleth exhaled. That was exactly it. 

Why she’d so desperately wanted the twins, Pike, and Grog, in the aftermath; why she’d wanted Vex, above all else. It didn’t matter whether or not she and Vex were compatible people, whether Vex had ever really thought she was cool or interesting or impressive, whether they would’ve stayed friends if they’d stayed in each other’s lives. It was the place and time that they had become the first, curious, tentative versions of themselves. 

Scanlan didn’t seem to be expecting her to follow up with any kind of coherent response, which was good, because she wasn’t entirely sure she’d be able to give him one even if she tried. 

Scanlan’s phone buzzed against the wooden countertop and moments later, the french doors opened, Vex coming inside from where she’d been playing with Trinket. His claws scrabbled against the floors as the last of his energy sent him zooming around the living room before he bounded up to Keyleth and Scanlan, staring intently and attentively at what remained in Scanlan’s bowl. 

“Nah uh,” said Vex sternly. “Don’t give him anything Scanlan. It’s bad enough that he expects it from Vax and Percy.” 

“Such a mean mom, isn’t she?” said Scanlan, scratching behind Trinket’s ears. Trinket craned his neck to try and lick Scanlan’s fingers. 

Vex rolled her eyes, ducking out of the living room to use the bathroom. 

“Jarrett’s five minutes away,” said Scanlan, sliding off the stool, picking up his bowl and glass, and weaving around the bar to the sink. Apology tinged his voice. Keyleth shook her head, waving him off. The interruptions had jolted the conversation enough, the weight and rawness of it settling like dust. 

“Go,” said Keyleth, smiling. “Have fun. I’d say don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, but I think that covers about half of your hobbies.” 

Scanlan snorted. “I’ll get you in the door of one of these concerts, mark my words. It’s a rite of passage.” 

Keyleth thought of the EDM she’d heard thumping from Scanlan’s bedroom as he’d gotten ready this afternoon, and wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I think you’re really overestimating my adaptability there, Scanlan.” 

He sighed overdramatically. “I guess we can’t all be perfect.”

Keyleth tossed the eraser she’d left on top of her notebook at him, and Scanlan cackled as it bounced off him. He saluted her goodbye, then ducked around the corner to avoid any further projectiles. Keyleth heard the front door click shut moments later, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She was somewhere between grateful for the reprieve, and restless from the conversation itself. Trinket must have sensed it in her, whining a little and pawing at her feet. 

“It’s okay,” said Keyleth softly, smoothing her thumb over the top of his head, down the little divot between his eyes. “I’m fine, buddy.” 

Trinket seemed less than convinced, but he stopped pawing, just pressed his body against her legs. 

Her laptop screen had faded to black, assuming she’d given up on reading, and even after wiggling her cursor to bring it back to life Keyleth found herself struggling to pick up from the place she’d left off. 

She flicked open her headphone case instead and put both earbuds into her ears, despite the fact that she’d never been someone who could listen to music and read simultaneously. She wasn’t intending on playing music - it just felt a little more acceptable to only give someone half of her attention when she looked busy, and for some inexplicable reason, headphones made people look busy. 

Maybe she’d also glanced at the clock, and knew people’s evening schedules by now. Maybe, she’d realised that the next person to head into the kitchen might be Vex, that that was why she’d come back from playing with Trinket outside. Maybe she wanted an excuse to distance herself a little, if Vex were to walk back into the room, given everything Scanlan had left swirling around her mind that she wasn’t entirely sure what she should do with. 

As she was learning he was prone to doing, he’d cut through all the hazy uncertainty and given it shape, put it into words that suddenly made a lot of uncomfortable sense. Yes, the aftermath of Ryan being here had been freeing. But it had also given Keyleth a brief, fleeting chance to feel the kind of warmth and belonging and comfort with the others - all of them - that she’d long since resigned herself to never having again. 

Like she’d told Scanlan, she hadn’t been alone when she broke things off with Ryan. She couldn’t have felt more supported, or more loved, by those who had become her people in Zephrah. But these recent weeks had made Keyleth realise what it would have felt like if these people had been there, if she hadn’t left them half a continent away. Vax and Grog would’ve immediately bloodied their knuckles in her defence, and honestly, Pike probably would’ve been up there right next to them, small but radiating anger. And Vex. Vex had never been one to throw herself into conflict that same way, but her anger, her protectiveness, had always been quieter, more calculated, more nuanced. 

Even now, Keyleth ached to talk to her. She sighed, trying not to feel bitter as she reached for her pen. Things between them had felt better, for a little while. After Ryan’s visit. There had been moments - at the supermarket, over dinner, in the kitchen the morning after Keyleth first told everyone about Ryan - when the distance Vex had been keeping from her felt like it was thinning at the edges, like it might be possible for them both to take steps onto a bridge that crossed the cavern stretching between them. Keyleth hadn’t quite dared to let herself believe it.

And she’d been right not to - it had faded away as quickly as it had come.

She was tired. 

There was only so much she could do, so much she could fool herself into believing, so much hurt she could pretend didn’t cut as deeply as it did. And there were only so many excuses she could make on Vex’s behalf. 

It had been months now, and Keyleth was starting to realise that no matter how much she threw herself into all the joy and beauty and excitement of this new-but-familiar life in Whitestone, Vex’s distance was the thing keeping Keyleth from truly feeling at home here. It would’ve been one thing if their relationship had always been like this, but even if Vex had never found Keyleth the most interesting person in the world, Keyleth remembered what it felt like to be close to her. Its absence, in comparison, was so starkly obvious. 

The way she so rarely found herself alone with Vex, the way Vex hadn’t given her lists of her favourite places in Whitestone the way all of the others had, or offered to show her anywhere around the city. The way Keyleth felt sometimes as if she were treading on a thin pane of glass, but there was no way to gain a firmer footing, because Vex was refusing to let her. The creeping curl of doubt in the pit of Keyleth’s stomach and the whispers at the back of her mind that pointed out that most times when Vex smiled at her, it didn’t come close to reaching her eyes.

Of course, Keyleth had initially expected worse. She knew Vex was fiercely protective of Vax, and before Keyleth had realised Vax kept their last night together in Emon to himself, she’d braced herself for Vex’s fury, or a refusal for any kind of civility. She’d prepared herself for vague approximations of friendship, or a much colder shoulder, or for an inevitable confrontation between them to erupt and for Vex to - somewhat rightfully - tear her to shreds. 

Vex’s anger had never been the same as her brother’s. When they’d been teenagers, Vax’s anger - at their father, at the world, at anyone he thought had wronged the people he loved - bled out of him. He was too crass, too quick, too reckless. She’d loved him, they all had, but there’d been more frustrated conversations about it than she could count. She remembered Vex shoving him up against corridor walls as his eyes flashed, or curling her fingers into the front of his t-shirt and gripping it, hissing sharp words at him under her breath. Father and hear and careful. She remembered Vax, at fifteen and sixteen in particular, wronged by the world and buzzing beneath his skin. Pike, dragging him home to Wilhand’s, fishing ice-packs out of the freezer for bruised knuckles Syldor shouldn’t see.

Vex’s anger, meanwhile, had definition at the edges in ways Vax’s didn’t. Her sharpness matched his, but the knife was more precise, and she’d always wielded it more deliberately. At times, it had a subtlety her brother’s lacked - instead of lashing out, she would be composed, collected, but cold. Impossible to read, impossible to get to know. When they were teenagers, it had set Keyleth on edge - but she’d been incapable of not finding it cool , in an aloof, unachievable kind of way. Everything Vex did was cool, back then.

While Vax seemed to have grown out of his teenage anger, it seemed that despite all the other things about Vex that had changed, grown, softened, evolved, this had remained the same. 

Keyleth, however, was not the same. Especially not in her anger. 

Trinket stirred by her feet, tail thumping on the floor as footsteps descended the stairs, and Keyleth promptly - and unsurprisingly - found herself abandoned as Vex and Percy both entered the living room. 

“Scanlan leave already?” Percy asked Keyleth with a hello smile. 

“Just a few minutes ago,” said Keyleth, returning the smile as Percy moved around the breakfast bar to survey the fridge. 

“Okay Trink, back outside,” said Vex sternly. Trinket whined mournfully with big, sad, wide eyes. Vex huffed. “Nope, not falling for it. Come on, boy. We can’t cook with you on our feet trying to catch anything that drops on the floor. Out you go.” Trinket reluctantly trotted over to the french doors so Vex could let him out into the backyard. She closed the door again and joined Percy in the kitchen. 

There had been a sweet, loving tenderness to Vex’s voice as she spoke to Trinket, even beneath the sternness. The greeting she gave Keyleth, meanwhile, felt curt, thicker and more reserved, her smile shallow. 

Keyleth resisted the urge to sigh again, or worse, to snap at Vex. She could feel irritation prickling beneath her skin, but forced it determinedly down, turning her attention back to her laptop and glueing her eyes to it as Percy and Vex moved between cupboards, fetching a chopping board and pans and a selection of small bowls. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Keyleth watched Vex direct Percy to the windowsill to pick parsley and mint, then to the cupboard beside the oven which held the sesame oil, lemon juice, flaked sea salt and pepper. As he began to dice the parsley, following her instructions for tabbouleh, she gathered the rest of the ingredients she needed, both for the meal the two of them must have decided on, and for something else - assumedly, lunches for the rest of the week. 

Keyleth’s gaze kept getting drawn away from her laptop screen, to the ease with which Vex and Percy moved around each other in the sun soaked kitchen. The intimacy of how unthinkingly comfortable they were with each other, aware of each other’s presence in such an intrinsic way. Keyleth wanted desperately to know more about whatever it was they had going on between the two of them, but there was only one person she could ask about it, and that, obviously, wasn’t happening. 

It was strange seeing Vex so at home in a kitchen. 

Keyleth had cooked plenty with Pike and Vax since moving in. With Pike, it had felt achingly, wonderfully familiar, truly like coming home. With Vax, it had been another one of the honours of seeing a side of him that hadn’t had the chance to exist back then. He introduced her to dishes that had been shown to him by Kash and Gilmore, tossing ingredients and flavours into sizzling oil that were so indulgently aromatic, aromas and tastes that would never have been allowed past the threshold of Syldor’s cold, bland house. 

Keyleth had learned that meals with Scanlan were often an I’ll owe you one situation; he was always so busy, ran on such odd schedules that the others tended to save him a portion of a dinner and he returned the favour when he could. Keyleth had started doing the same. 

Grog and Percy, on their own, seemed to cook more for the necessity of eating than anything else. With the others, they both relented to the inevitability of elaborate Thursday night dinners or enormous Saturday morning brunch spreads. Keyleth had found herself in the kitchen with them at the same time, trading conversation and spices as they each cooked their own dinners in comfortable companionship. 

As with everything else about settling into this house and city, Vex was the exception. 

Vex had never seemed to care much about food, or baking, or cooking, when they were teenagers. She enjoyed group study dates at their favourite diner as much as the rest of them, devoured Wilhand’s famous double chocolate brownies when Pike brought them to school, and as proved by that strange night in the supermarket with Ryan, Vex clearly had had her favourites of the many dinners Korrin had cooked for the twins (usually on nights where they’d spent as long as they possibly could at Keyleth’s house, to avoid returning home).

But Vex had always been the one sitting at the dining table, watching Vax and Keyleth fumble through new recipes they were learning from Vilya’s oil splattered recipe books, instead focused on her homework, or in later years, teaching Trinket new tricks. 

Now, Vex moved in this kitchen with a light footedness Keyleth would usually attribute to her twin. She reached for jars of vibrantly coloured spices, bottles with labels in languages Keyleth couldn’t understand, but that, when opened, filled the kitchen with rich floral sweetness, the scent of a garden in springtime bloom. Whatever spices she’d tossed into whatever was simmering on the stove caught slightly on the pan and charred, a rich smokiness clouding the air that settled in Keyleth’s lungs with each inhale. It wasn’t uncomfortable but she felt it there, like a taunting sliver of this version of Vex she wanted desperately to know. 

The evening was cooling quickly and the heat of the kitchen caused droplets of condensation to gather against the kitchen window, obscuring the view of the garden. As though she’d been thinking the same thing, Vex cracked one of the windows open. 

“You making enough for me too?” said Percy, a little teasing as he leaned over to see what Vex was stirring.

“Presumptuous of you,” Vex shot back, grinning. “What am I getting in return for cooking you lunch, hm?” 

“Free repairs on your car until the end of time?” 

“You promised me that years ago, you can’t use it as currency for new things.” 

Percy gave a long-suffering sigh. “What do you want from me, Vex’ahlia?” he said with so much put-on melodrama, it would’ve made Keyleth smile to herself if she hadn’t been so intently watching Vex’s expression. It was far from the first time Percy had called Vex by her full name - in fact, he used it quite often - but Keyleth still hadn’t gotten used to it. Vex had hated it in high school, enough that even their teachers had notes of it. It was one of Syldor’s main derisive, intimidation tactics and the shape and sound of the twins’ full names had such fearful, sour connotations that even Keyleth hated hearing them used. But now, Vex didn’t even flinch. Not even a little unease or discomfort flickered across her face. Her smile just widened and she bumped a hip against Percy’s. 

“Nothing I don’t already know you would give if I asked,” she said, much softer, all the humour mellowed from her voice. 

Keyleth realised with a start that Vex was definitely assuming Keyleth couldn’t hear them, her headphones playing something rather than just being the prop they currently were. Keyleth quickly dropped her eyes to her notebook, hoping her cheeks weren’t red, hoping she looked sufficiently distracted if Percy glanced over to check she wasn’t listening. 

He must have been sufficiently convinced because he hummed, a much sweeter, warmer sound than his usual reserved demeanour. “Almost done?” he asked. “I’ll let Trinket back in.” 

“Give him a treat,” said Vex. 

“Oh, and you tell me off for being soft on him.” 

“At least I put him outside rather than letting him eat food scraps he’s not meant to have!” 

“Yes, you just give him treats afterwards instead.” 

“Because you and Vax give him whatever he wants and now he thinks I’m the bad guy for enforcing rules on him! I have to make him like me again somehow.” 

“Vex,” said Percy, turning back towards the kitchen, “you’re very much underestimating how impossible it is not to like you.” 

In her peripheral vision, Keyleth watched surprise, insecurity, and then unexpected shyness dart across Vex’s face. It only lasted a second before Vex schooled her expression, gaze darting towards Keyleth guardedly for a moment. Keyleth kept her eyes fixed on her laptop screen. 

“Hush Percival,” said Vex eventually, voice light. “Go get Trinket.”

The french doors clicked open, then shut, and through the open kitchen window, Keyleth heard Trinket’s delighted yap and Percy’s soft chuckle. After a moment, it became clear that Percy was now briefly caught up playing with Trinket outside, and Keyleth felt the atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly grow taut as she and Vex now occupied the space on their own. 

Figuring she may as well sell that she hadn’t heard their conversation, Keyleth waited another couple of minutes, then slid off her stool, stretched, closed her laptop screen with a click and when Vex glanced over, took her earbuds out of her ears and returned them to their case. Vex didn’t say anything, her attention quickly back on the stove. Frustration bubbled in the pit of Keyleth’s stomach, patience wearing thin. She forced herself to claw black from the frayed edges of it, to stay on steady, calm, measured ground. 

“Smells good,” she said conversationally, pulling a box of leftover stir fry she and Pike had cooked last night from the fridge. 

Vex hummed noncommittally. “Kash’s recipe,” she said, too short to feel warm or casual. 

Keyleth was so tired of trying so hard. She kept going anyway. “Oh, yeah? Vax showed me a couple things he’d learned from Kash and Gilmore. Don’t think he made this one though.” 

“He’s got his favourites, I’ve got mine,” said Vex, and it sounded both like an end to the conversation, and like she was talking about far more than food. 

Keyleth deflated, breath rushing out of her, thankfully hidden beneath the clatter of plates that Vex retrieved from the cupboard. She bit her tongue, holding back whatever hopeful longing her seventeen year old self was reaching for, and shoved her food forcefully into the microwave, letting its buzzing fill the silence instead. 

Percy and Trinket came back inside and immediately, Vex was all warmth, laughter, and easy chatter. 

Keyleth’s heart found itself tangled somewhere between incensed and broken. So much so, that she stopped the microwave before it was done, gathered her things from the breakfast bar and beelined upstairs to her bedroom before the sound of Vex’s joy could make her burst into tears. 

Door closed, Keyleth sat on her bed and ate alone. 

Her dinner was still cold. 

Usually on days like this, Keyleth would reach a point where the only thing she could do was put her work to rest for a while and take herself on a hike on her own. Somewhere quiet, somewhere lush and far from the smell of garbage littered alleys, or car exhausts, or burnt coffee grounds, or even the overly sanitised cleanliness of the labs. Somewhere she could hear her mother’s soft reminder to just breathe , where she could find the reasons why she was doing all this in the first place. 

But today was the fourth day in a row of torrential rain. The backyard was so waterlogged that Vex was having to walk Trinket to the park down the road to take him out. All the gutters on the roads near their house were flooded, and Keyleth’s trainers still hadn’t dried from mistakenly wearing them on the first day of the storm. 

Normally, she wouldn’t have let rain stop her from being outside and clearing her head, but this wasn’t Zephrah; she still didn’t know Whitestone’s trails well enough to be okay on her own in bad weather. Besides, the last time she’d been scouting out places to explore, Percy had mentioned that although they were beautiful, most of the mountain hikes and forest trails around Whitestone hadn’t been well maintained in the last decade, and that Keyleth should be a little more vigilant walking them than she might be elsewhere. The look in his eye as he said it and the odd tension in his jaw wasn’t something she could pinpoint the cause for, but it was that more than anything that had her taking his words to heart.

So instead of losing herself in the smell of the rain and brushing her fingers through leaves covered droplets of water, letting it cool the simmering restlessness and clawing insecurity under her skin, Keyleth came home. But the walls of the house felt too dark in the bleak greyness of this week, too imposing compared to the open skies and rustling treetops Keyleth craved. There’d never been a moment where this house hadn’t felt welcoming and loving and homely, but today, Keyleth shuddered as she stepped inside. The collar of her sweater was soaked through, as were her socks. Her skin was cold and clammy from the walk back from the bus stop. Her shoulder ached from her bag, full of textbooks and papers to read and her stupid, stupid lit review draft with all of Stephen’s infuriatingly unhelpful criticism. 

She dragged her feet up the stairs, each step making her body feel heavier than the last. It was only as she reached the first floor landing that she heard footsteps. The rustle of movement. Nobody was meant to be home, but when Keyleth rounded the corner towards her own bedroom doorway she caught sight of a flash of dark hair from Vex’s room, and her stomach sank.

Right. Vex was back from her work trip today. 

She’d been in Vasselheim the last three days for a global conference on charity work. It had sounded incredibly interesting and Keyleth would’ve loved to hear about it, if Vex ever decided she wanted to have a real conversation with her again. As it happened, Vex had used trip prep, packing, and preparing for her own presentation as (admittedly reasonable) excuses to sidestep any opportunity for Keyleth to ask about it. 

Maybe now, Keyleth thought. Maybe it could be a good distraction from her own shitty day. A way to pass the afternoon without feeling the weight of her unopened laptop and the lit review feedback she wanted to toss into the steadily growing swamp of their backyard. But the tentative hopefulness of it started to sink before it had even really found life, drying up with bitter resignation. She was starting to get used to the feeling; any and all progress she and Vex had made recently became so infinitesimally small that it may as well have not been there. 

Still. There’d been some progress. That had to count for something, surely? And, even on days like this, Keyleth wouldn’t be her if she was someone who didn’t keep trying. It was one of the things that she hadn’t grown out of or matured away from in those years in Zephrah; it had just gotten stronger. 

She straightened her aching shoulders and took a deep breath. “Hey, welcome back,” she said with all the cheer she could muster. “Hope the conference went well.” 

She saw Vex’s posture change, the surprise of hearing Keyleth’s voice, and even with her back turned, Keyleth had no doubt that Vex had heard her, knew she was standing right there. 

Vex didn’t say anything. 

On another day, Keyleth would’ve given her the benefit of the doubt, as she had been doing for weeks. The conference might not have gone well, or Vex might have been tired from the travel, from the brown-nosing, from the packed schedule and long days. She might not have expected anyone to be home and been counting on an uninterrupted afternoon to unwind. She might have been in her own bad mood and wanting to avoid sniping at Keyleth. 

It wasn’t another day. 

Keyleth dropped her bag into her bedroom doorway with a loud thud . “ Vex, ” she said sharply. 

Vex’s head snapped to her in surprise, catching sight of Keyleth standing in the hallway, wet socks against the floorboards, hair drenched, mascara probably atrociously smudged, and she turned to face Keyleth properly. Her eyebrows rose, slow in a way that incensed Keyleth; as if Vex was fucking surprised Keyleth had grown a backbone, hadn’t stayed that spineless teenager she’d had to put up in high school, who’d let people walk all over her. 

“Hi Keyleth,” Vex said. 

Keyleth’s nostrils flared. “Oh, hi there. Thanks for acknowledging my existence.” 

“Excuse me?” Vex said, a lick of something bright and angry sparking in her own eyes. Keyleth welcomed it with furious, exhausted relief. 

“Please Vex, enlighten me,” Keyleth said through her teeth. “What exactly is your plan here? To act like this forever?” 

If Keyleth was a better person, she would have found a way to bring it up tactfully. Truthfully, she was still holding onto the vain hope that a productive conversation between her and Vex might leave something that could be salvaged, and snipping back at her wouldn’t help with that, despite how good it felt to finally push back. Until now, she had wanted to at least attempt to maintain the moral high-ground. They lived together, after all, and the majority of Vex’s friends were now also her friends, because they were Vax’s friends, and Pike and Grog’s friends, and she’d been swallowed into their circles with open arms. She’d had no intention of making things difficult or awkward for the rest of them, even though the possibility of that didn’t seem to bother Vex that much at all.

Tact, however, had well and truly vanished out of the window. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Keyleth,” said Vex. “Act like what?” 

“Like - like we’re strangers ?” Keyleth shot back, trying to ignore the lump growing in her throat. “Like you don’t want anything to do with me?” 

Vex’s smile was cool, and didn’t reach her eyes. It made Keyleth’s arms break out in goosebumps that had nothing to do with the rain. “You’re my housemate, Keyleth, we’re hardly strangers.”

Housemate . Keyleth felt familiar, frothing, seething, bubbling anger boil over in the base of her stomach. 

People said housemate in two ways: one, as an elevation to friend , meaning friend-who-I-also-share-a-home-with, friend-who-I-love-dearly, friend-who-I-consider-family, and two, meaning person-I-unfortunately-live-with . ‘Stranger’, but with a bitter twist to it. 

“Well, quit acting like we are , then,” Keyleth said harshly. 

Where was the warmth that she’d glimpsed, when they’d run into Ryan in the supermarket and Vex’s hand had curled around her arm as she’d led her away? Or as they stood in Gilmore’s kitchen, a mug of tea in Keyleth’s hands, Vex keeping a careful, concerned eye on her to check she was okay?

Once upon a time, she had admired Vex for her ability to always select the right time to speak, and the right words to use. Her own would tumble from her lips in a jumble that had to be untangled, whereas Vex’s always felt carefully chosen and pointedly placed. Right now, however, Vex’s silence was both infuriating and unfairly mean . 

Keyleth’s eyes burned and a rush of preemptive humiliation lanced through her, cold and malicious. A broken noise escaped the back of her throat as she cast her eyes up to the ceiling, blinking quickly. The only thing worse than how this seemed to be going would be crying about it in front of Vex, when she very clearly didn’t care. 

“Well, fuck, okay then,” Keyleth said with a hollow, flat laugh that felt like it was going to swallow her whole. “I see how it is.” 

She should have known the two of them would end up here the moment she got off a plane in Zephrah Airport and blocked Vax’s phone number. No one loved Vax as fiercely as Vex did, or was as furiously protective of him, and she’d hurt him. She knew she’d hurt him, and she didn’t doubt that Vex knew it too, despite not having the full details.

But that was years ago.

And that was between her and Vax.

And she and Vax were fine about it, and he’d been the most welcoming out of anyone, despite it all.

And they were adults . This wasn’t petty schoolyard drama, and no one else seemed to have a problem with her.

“ Do you?” said Vex, something other than apathy finally sneaking into her voice. Something that sounded like a confusing mixture of challenging and guarded.

Keyleth took a not-at-all-calming breath and looked back at her. “All I know, Vex, is you’re the one who seems so intent on hating me.” 

A flicker of something unplaceable darted across Vex’s expression for a split second, before it was replaced by a cold, hard wall.  “And you know that because you’re good at reading me,” she said, voice icy and bitter. “Because you know me so well, don’t you, Key ?”

The nickname she’d taken such pride in overhearing Vex say the week before felt more like a slap in the face, and Keyleth barely managed not to recoil. Vex finally took a step towards Keyleth, still firmly behind the threshold of her own bedroom, then folded her arms over her chest, as though they could act as another wall between the two of them. Her gaze felt sharp enough to cut glass.

“No, I don’t!” Keyleth burst out. “Obviously, I don’t, because you won’t fucking let me !” 

There it was again. That flicker; there, and then gone.

Keyleth took a reckless, restless step towards Vex’s bedroom. Vex tightened her grip on her arms, nails digging into her skin. “ Look ,” Keyleth said, shaking her head, pushing wet, tangled hair away from her face. “I - I know, okay? I know you have no reason to be friends with me again, or even to like me.”  She swallowed back another surge of oncoming tears. “I know you didn’t really anyway. If we’re finally talking about things, we might as well stop pretending about that, too.” 

Vex opened her mouth for a second, then closed it, tension shooting through jaw as she clenched her teeth. Her eyebrows creased into a frown before she pressed her lips into a taut line.

“And obviously, then I went and broke Vax’s heart and ran away from him for six years because I was too much of a coward to face him and be honest about anything, and yeah, if I were you, I would think that was a pretty spineless thing to do, and I’d be angry as hell if it were my twin brother.” 

“Keyleth,” Vex finally said, her voice still cool and sharp-edged. 

“No, just let me - you can finally yell at me as much as you want in a second, but -” Keyleth let out a trembling breath, fuelled by anger but dripping with tired, sad confusion. “You’re allowed to be angry at me for hurting him, I expected you to be, okay? And I’m sorry . I never meant to hurt him like that, and I know I don’t deserve the forgiveness he’s given me, and I don’t expect you to let go of it the way he has because he would do the same if it was you, but I can’t fucking do this Vex! I can’t do the whiplash, I can’t keep convincing myself that maybe you actually like me and then get the rug pulled out from under me three days later! If you’re going to hate me because I broke your brother’s heart, just be honest about -” 

“God, Keyleth!” Vex shouted, throwing her hands up in the air, her eyes burning with fury. “ Fuck Vax!”

Keyleth stopped mid sentence. 

I did , she thought deliriously. Kinda thought that was part of the problem here.  

But that clearly wasn’t what Vex meant - not standing in the centre of her bedroom, her emphatic outburst echoing out down the hallway.

“I don’t give a fuck about Vax!” she added harshly, her anger hitting the walls and ricocheting, folding back on itself again and again and again and again. 

Keyleth stood surrounded by it, her heart pounding in her chest, bewildered.

“I mean - not like -” Vex’s volume dropped to a more reasonable level, but her words still dripped with anger. They were shaking though, and that didn’t feel like fury. She looked at least slightly abashed, took a moment to clench her jaw to stave off the vulnerability threatening the corners of her words. “Obviously I care about Vax. And yes, I’m angry that he got hurt. I’m angry you hurt him. I don’t think you were right to cut him out of your life like you did.” 

The glare returned and she re-folded her arms, back straightening, the wall she had kept Keyleth on the other side of seeming to have even more bricks in it than when this argument had started. Perhaps Vex had started on a second layer the moment Keyleth had arrived back in Whitestone. Perhaps she’d had it ready to assemble, flat-packed and already laid out on the ground so that she could pull it up with a moment’s notice when Keyleth crossed over the line she’d drawn out in the sand. “Whatever the fuck happened between the two of you that night happened. I always knew something would, that he would finally be honest about his feelings or kiss you before you left or something - that’s why I volunteered to be the one our father took on his goddamn charity trip that weekend. I always figured something had to give between you two before you left, and I for one didn’t think it was necessarily going to be sunshine and roses when you were about to move across the world, though I certainly didn’t expect you to disappear off the face of the earth.” Vex scoffed, eyes bright with that same burning, blazing look that had awed and intimidated Keyleth so much when they were younger. “But whatever happened, I don’t fucking care Keyleth. That’s you and Vax’s business, he made that very clear when he refused to tell me anything about it afterwards. That was never why I was angry at you.” 

Keyleth stared. She could feel the dumbfounded, frozen confusion on her face, and her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment when Vex laughed, cold and bitter. Until she heard what was underneath it: hurt. Tinged with an odd hint of self-hatred that Keyleth could read - finally something that she knew and could see unequivocally in Vex, because she remembered it so achingly well. 

With great effort, Keyleth forced her frustrated anger-cloaked indignance to settle ever so slightly. “I don’t understand,” she said quietly. 

Vex shook her head, taking a step back from her, and unexpectedly, Keyleth watched as tears began to pool in her eyes. 

As if they’d been waiting there in the wings for months.

Vex swiped frustratedly at them with the back of her hand but gave up a moment later when they started to fall, leaving them to roll down her cheeks and drip onto the carpet. She held Keyleth’s gaze despite them, and Keyleth felt like she was poised on a precipice, toes curled over a cliff-edge, the dark drop beneath them both stretching as far as the eye could see.

Vex’s voice trembled again when she spoke. “You were my best friend , Keyleth . ” Her inhale shuddered, and Keyleth knew she should cross the distance between them, wanted desperately to take a step closer, but her feet were cemented to the floor. Vex sniffed, then looked up to the ceiling just like Keyleth had before, blinking fast. Tears caught on her mascara, dragging a trail of it halfway down her cheek. “You were my best friend. Vax was yours, I know that, I knew that then and I was okay with it. He was a better friend to you than I was, most of the time. But you were my best friend.” 

“ Vex -” 

“Do you know how long I waited for you to call?” All the anger seemed to have vanished from Vex’s voice, washed away like the tide being pulled away from the shore, and all that was left, scattered in broken, fragile pieces, was something desperate and pleading. “I wasn’t even home yet, I hadn’t seen Vax, he hadn’t told me that something weird had happened between you, whatever it was. I was still away with Dad and I texted you asking if you landed and the text never delivered. I kept fucking waiting, Key, to hear from you. About Zephrah, about your family. But nothing ever came. And when I realised whatever this was was because of the fucking thing you and my brother had, do you know how angry I was? At you? At him? But I couldn’t be, because he’d lost you too and he was heartbroken and he wouldn’t talk to me about it and it’s Vax , I can’t fucking stay angry at him.”

“But you could be at me,” said Keyleth, voice small, hoarse, an oddly cold but burning feeling spreading through her chest. She wasn’t saying it as an accusation, this time. 

“Because you left me too,” said Vex in barely more than a whisper. “And somehow, in all this time, that doesn’t seem to ever have occurred to you.” 

Keyleth watched something crack within Vex’s chest, the rage that had been fueling her fading and her knees threatening to buckle. She sank down to sit on the edge of her bed, and Keyleth watched fractures splinter out through her chest, down her arms, right to the tips of her fingers.

The air felt thick, suffocating. Vex sniffed again and looked away, wiping her tears more thoroughly with the sleeve of her jumper, and Keyleth found her own vision blurring too. She finally managed to unstick her feet from the carpet and took a few hesitant steps over to the bed, taking a seat near but not too near to Vex and curling her arms tightly around her own middle.

She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do, either.

Keyleth had barely even been in here; Vex’s beautifully decorated, homely bedroom, with its plush navy rug and plump pillows, warm orange lamp and cosy corduroy beanbags, had until now been viewed only from the doorway. 

The midnight-blue knit throw beneath her was soft as Keyleth ran her fingertips over the strands, back and forth, soothing. 

It was Vex who eventually broke the silence, eyes bleary. Her voice cracked. “You really thought I didn’t like you?”

Keyleth shrugged one shoulder, trying to piece letters into words, and words into sentences. 

Vex’s voice grew smaller again. “You thought I put up with you just for Vax?”

“I tried - ” Keyleth’s voice splintered and she paused, clearing it and swallowing before trying again. “I tried to tell myself otherwise. And I believed it, most of the time. But I know you thought I was naive and anxious and clumsy, and you were so frustrated by me sometimes, and you were so much cooler. Part of me thought you just sort of … tolerated me. Because we had the same friends. Because of Vax. I thought that even if I’d never gone to Zephrah, you would still’ve found something better once we left Emon.” 

Vex’s inhale caught on more tears, verging on a sob, her devastation threatening to crack them both into irreparable pieces. Guilt and frustration poured from her, visible in every inch of her expression. “That’s not true,” she managed. “There’s no one better than you, Keyleth. There never was.” 

Keyleth’s fingers twisted into the blanket, nails catching a little on the fabric. Like it seemed to in Vex, all the anger had left her in a rush, the adrenaline quickly fading with it. In its stead, Keyleth felt a light headed in her delirious incredulity. 

“Fuck, Key,” Vex whispered, unsteady and quiet but emphatic. Real , in a way almost every conversation Keyleth had had with Vex since returning hadn’t been. “You mattered so much to me. I know I didn’t show it well but … I thought you at least knew -” Her words caught in her throat, thick and a little breathless and with that self-deprecating edge creeping back in and Keyleth shook her head quickly. 

“It’s not that black and white, Vex. I knew you cared. I know you care. You always saw so much in me that I couldn’t see in myself.” 

“That doesn’t excuse me treating you like shit,” said Vex, her voice low and dangerously sure. “I’ve been horrible and I just kept justifying it because I was hurt. Both now and -” She swallowed, pulling her knees up to hug them to her chest. “The person you were to me when we were teenagers, everything you did for me and Vax. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been my friend. And I was such an asshole, even then -” 

“You weren’t!” Keyleth interrupted, immediately indignant, and Vex gave her a watery smile.

“I was,” she said, sounding sad. “More than I should have been. It’s … it’s easier to see, now that there’s some distance from it and Vax and I have built these lives for ourselves here. Losing Mum and moving to Syngorn made me so closed off. Dad made me so closed off. It’s not like Vax was much better at handling his emotions than I was, but he never stopped being so kind and open and warm to the people he loved. It’s like I … I forgot how to show people I loved them.” 

Keyleth looked down to her hands, fiddling with a loose piece of skin at the edge of her thumb nail. These were all things she’d told herself. She’d known Vex well enough to understand where her hard edges came from, once. And although Vex seemed to be readily taking all of the blame for the rift between them, she had her own faults, too, and they certainly hadn’t helped.

“I should have trusted you more,” she admitted quietly. “I knew what you’d been through. It’s not your fault that you’d learnt to protect yourself by not letting other people in, I should have recognised that rather than assuming the problem was me.”

“ Keyleth ,” Vex interrupted, her voice surprisingly amused despite the lingering thickness of tears.

Keyleth paused, this time, and at her hesitation, Vex’s expression softened, a faint, bittersweet smile finding its way to her lips. “You went through the exact same thing, darling,” she said softly. 

If Vex calling her Key had thrown Keyleth for a spin, this made all of Keyleth’s nerve endings spark with sudden, unexpected, broken joy that had exhausted tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. 

She clawed her focus back to the conversation, shook her head to try and insist that no, it wasn’t the same, the twins losing Elaina couldn’t be compared to Keyleth losing Vilya, not with everything that had happened to them afterwards . 

“Don’t say you didn’t,” said Vex, stern in such an unexpectedly gentle way. “Yes, obviously, the situation was different, but the hurt was the same. It was one of the reasons I always admired you so much.” 

The soft, sad look on Vex’s face was the only thing that convinced Keyleth she hadn’t misheard. Still, it didn’t feel believable in the slightest, until Vex wiped her cheeks dry and shifted, moving to sit with her back leaning against her bed’s wooden headboard. Keyleth moved too, still leaving a few inches between their shoulders when she took her place at Vex’s side. 

Vex exhaled carefully, 

“You went through this terrible thing - the same terrible thing as Vax and I. I know exactly how awful it was to lose your mother, Key, and we were all so very young. But where it made Vax and I guarded, and angry, where it made me cold and distant, you chose to let it make you kind . You never lost your belief that the world was beautiful and people had good hearts, that there was magic worth finding in all the little things. Vax and I became so jaded, suspicious of everyone and everything, convinced the world had nothing good left to offer us, but you never did. I was so impressed by it, even though I never said.”

Keyleth swallowed, and as she tried to think of an adequate response that wasn’t just crying some more, she felt the warm, tentative nudge of Vex’s pinkie against her own where it lay on top of the blanket between them. She looped hers through it, barely resisting the urge to burst into relieved, exhausted tears.

“Maybe you were guarded,” Keyleth said eventually, thoughtful and quiet and soft. “Maybe you were angry. But it did make you two close. It made both of you so determined to make your own family and your own lives away from your dad, with all the warmth you craved, even though you couldn’t have it back then. You were so set on finding the magic and love you had with your mom again one day, and you did , right here.” She took a breath, holding it in her lungs until it began to burn, then let it go. “I was kind. I like to think I am kind, and I think losing mom made me more determined than ever to cling to that. But Vex … it made me so afraid.”

There was a strip of four photos tucked into the side of Vex’s mirror that she hadn’t seen in the better part of a decade. Her, the twins, Grog, and Pike, all crammed into a photobooth they barely fit into. The first photo was overexposed, Pikes’s face a flash of white, Grog and Vax’s grins glowing from the darkness beside her. In the second, Pike and Vax were both blurs, halfway through falling off a stool that had never been meant for more than one, whilst Vex grabbed onto Pike’s shirt in an attempt to stop her from crashing into the ground. In the third, Grog had his arms wrapped around the rest of them, and through some miracle, five grinning, unblurred faces filled the shot.

The fourth had been a panic. A tick of three, two, on the tiny screen beside the camera, conflicting ‘do a silly one!’ and ‘pull a face!’ and ‘Christ Vax - get your elbow out of my - ‘ and then, at one! , Pike had pressed a kiss to Keyleth’s cheek, and because she’d been in the middle of their chaotic tangle of limbs, the others had followed Pike’s lead. Keyleth’s face was only half visible in the final photo: Grog’s chin rested on the top of her head, Pike’s hand was holding her jaw steady, Vax’s face was pressed up against the side of hers, grinning, and Vex … Vex had aimed a kiss for her temple, but the flash had come and gone and the photobooth had whirred and they’d all untangled themselves from each other, and when the prints slid out of the side, they showed Vex colliding with Keyleth’s eyebrow, a warm laugh on her lips, and Keyleth, nose wrinkled, catching Vex’s elbow before she could fall.

The photos had ended up tucked away under a false bottom in Vex’s desk drawer, where she kept her most prized keepsakes, away from Syldor’s prying eyes. Keyleth had forgotten about them. 

“I was so scared of losing people,” Keyleth whispered, and she felt Vex’s gaze linger on her, though she couldn’t bring herself to look away from that small, black and white strip at the edge of the mirror. “My mom was the one person who helped me to be sure of myself, and of who I wanted to be. There were moments where you guys filled that gap, but it was why, despite everything, I knew deep down I needed to go to Zephrah. Without her, I never wanted to let anyone in. I kept you at arm's length too, Vex, but maybe it wasn’t as obvious. It was -”

She hesitated, just for a moment. Her gaze darted to Vex, only to find her listening attentively. Her cheeks were wet, but the anger they’d both had built up inside of them seemed to have faded almost entirely. She shifted her hand as if to pull her pinkie away from Keyleth’s, only to then slip their fingers together properly. Keyleth looked away, but gave Vex’s hand a light squeeze. 

“It was why I never let myself imagine something real with Vax,” she confessed in a rush, the words almost hidden in the exhale. If the room - the house - hadn’t been silent aside from the rain drumming against the windows, Vex may not have heard it. But she tightened her grip on Keyleth’s hand just for a second, a silent acknowledgement. Keyleth took another breath. “I guess it was also why I never reached out to any of you after I left. It was easier to convince myself that I never had you in the first place. I … I found it hard to imagine that having people could ever be worth the risk and pain of losing them.”

“We really stacked those insecurities on top of each other, didn’t we?” Vex said dryly. Her huff of breath could almost have been mistaken for a laugh, by someone who didn’t know her well enough to hear the sadness it held. Keyleth hummed an agreement, and Vex sighed. “It’s hard being a kid living through things nobody can prepare you for. We knew it then, but it’s different being an adult, when that pain hasn’t lessened at all but you’ve learned to carry it. You look back and wonder how you ever could’ve shouldered it back then.”

Keyleth’s gaze drifted back over to the strip of photos, tucked above a polaroid of the twins wrapped in a pride flag, and below a candid of Vex and Percy in the kitchen, Vex on the counter with her hair in messy braids, Percy leaning back against the sink, the soft glow of evening light filtering through the windows.

“For what it’s worth,” Keyleth said softly, “I think it is worth it. It’s just taken me a long, long time to realise.”

Something glimmered behind Vex’s eyes - something quiet and fierce in a way she recognised, but would have been thrown by once upon a time, because she would have been intimidated by both its intensity and the fact that she couldn’t read it. 

“There you go again with your endless faith in the world,” Vex said with a wry smile, unbelievably fond. Proud. And - 

Oh. 

That look - it was admiration. In every crease of Vex’s expression, in the corners of her eyes, the curve of her smile. Not unreadable, just carefully guarded, in the way she had always been. 

Keyleth felt her cheeks flush, and she ducked her head down.

“You’re right,” Vex agreed. “It took me just as long to get there, I think, but I agree. It very much is worth the risk.”

If those hadn’t been words that eighteen-year-old Vex never would’ve said, Keyleth would’ve wondered whether this was all some detailed, devastating, elaborate dream. 

“I’m sorry, Key,” Vex said, looking down at her lap. “For ever making you doubt how much you meant to me back then, and for these past few months. I -” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, grip tightening on Keyleth’s hand again. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

Keyleth nudged Vex’s arm with her elbow and waited for Vex to look up at her. Only when she could see the guilt and relief and hesitance in the sheen of Vex’s tear-damp eyes did she smile softly, letting Vex see every inch of it.

“I’m sorry too,” Keyleth said softly. “For leaving you the way I did. I’ve spent so much time all these years missing you.”

She watched the admission sink beneath Vex’s skin, and deep within her own chest, a fierce hope bloomed; sunlight thawing frost on a cold winter's day. It felt, for the first time, like she might finally get to meet this Vex - this wonderful, impressive stranger, who had taken the skills once driven into her and turned them into an opportunity to work an incredible job, to meet incredible people. This friend, who stood barefoot in the kitchen these days with her hair falling out of loose braids, comfortably scattering spices she’d never been able to name before into a sizzling pan with an ease she would once never have dreamed of. The sister who tossed melodic, lilting phrases across rooms at her brother in a language Keyleth couldn’t translate, undeniably insults learnt from filthy-mouthed friends, that had him flipping her off with a grin or replying in kind, but then smiling dopily after she turned away, fond beyond belief.

“Hey Vex?” she asked quietly. “You think we could try again?”

Vex shuffled a few inches over to close the gap between them, so her shoulder pressed up against Keyleth’s, warm and steady. “I’d like that a lot,” she said softly. 

Keyleth rested her temple against Vex’s, and exhaled.

Chapter Text

The days that followed felt like the moment after breaking up through the surface of the sea, when you couldn’t hold your breath any longer. Like relief, first. First and foremost. But the welcome comfort of the sun and the warmth and the air didn’t eclipse the burning lungs, and the sun was always too blinding for a moment, and the breeze that skimmed across the surface of the water felt colder than it had before. Relief, then reality. 

Relief was the immediate break of the harsh, grating friction and building tension between her and Vex. 

Reality was the awkwardness that settled in the aftermath. 

It was profoundly obvious to everybody else in the house that whatever issues had found a home in the ever-widening chasm between Vex and her had finally bubbled over. Keyleth hadn’t quite realised how obvious Vex’s cold shoulder had been to them all, or moreso, how unhappy they’d all been about it, until she saw their relief over those next days. Vax especially, who came home that afternoon while Vex and Keyleth were still in Vex’s bedroom, talking through as many years as they could make up for in a desperately snatched handful of hours. Keyleth couldn’t really blame him for his alarm when he peered into Vex’s room to say hello and was instantly greeted with two sets of red-rimmed, swollen eyes, and tear-track stained cheeks. 

“Oh my god, what happened?” he demanded, protective and terrified and concerned all at once as he stepped into the room. 

“Calm down, it’s fine,” said Vex, rolling her eyes and taking the reprieve in conversation to scrub the salty tracks from her cheeks. “Kiki and I just …” She vaguely waved her hand, a slight flush creeping along her neck. “ … finally talked.” 

Vax’s eyes widened. “Oh!” A moment passed, and then his whole body deflated. He carded ring-adorned fingers through his thick black hair, hanging loose over his shoulders and let out a whistling exhale of heavy relief. “Jesus, thank fuck. ” 

“Excuse you,” snarked Vex, glaring. 

“Do you know how fucking unbearable it is being caught between two of your favourite people who can’t even look at each other for more than two seconds?” Vax shot back. 

“No, that’s never happened to me, please tell me more,” Keyleth said dryly. 

To his credit, Vax looked appropriately sheepish and Vex guffawed. 

But even as the tension gave way, what was left in its place was the stark realisation that there was still six years of distance and life lived between who Vex and Keyleth knew each other as, and the people they were now. Distance that unlike with everybody else, Keyleth hadn’t had the chance to close over these past months. The icy cold front Vex had put up all this time had melted, but there was still slippery ground to navigate that neither of them quite knew how to close as these versions of themselves. 

Keyleth had noticed this Vex she ached to get to know in all the quiet moments with the others - Percy, Vax, Zahra, Scanlan, Alina. Someone more confident. Someone who wasn’t trying to hide all the time. Someone who shone with purpose. Someone who was given the chance to be kinder, now.

She wished she had a time machine, a way to go through all these years behind them and properly see all the things that had shaped this Vex into the wonder Keyleth now saw, had given her solid ground to stand on until she recognised herself in the mirror. Instead, she supposed, she’d just have to pay more attention. Take every drunken story at every party, every Would You Rather or Truth or Dare confession, ask about every recipe, every book and photograph, until this new tapestry of Vex’ahlia Vessar made sense the same way Vax and Pike and Grog did, in all their grown up, messy, wonderful beauty. 

the shits 💞
Active now

Alina:
So my parents visited Jar and I this
week and my mother cooked more
food than fits in our fridge AND
freezer combined

and SHOCKINGLY, more than
even Jarrett can eat before it goes
off (he’s naturally very disappointed
in himself)

All this to say 

Dinner at ours sometime this week?
Maybe tomorrow or Tuesday? 

Food’s on us 💌 (or rather, my mom)

Zahra:
i’m there

will take any and all reasons to have
some of your mom’s food pls & ty

(kash is out of town this week tho)

Scanlan:
any excuse to not cook for myself 😌

Alina:
One day you’re making me a 3 course
dinner, Meat Man

Gilmore:
Sounds deeeelightful! Just tell me
when

Pike:
same!

Vax:
I have 50 essays to mark by Fri so I
might be in my office til stupid hours
every night this week, sorry Li - next
time! 

Alina:
I’ll send some leftovers home w/
someone ❤️

Grog:
i’ve got work that night but send some
leftovers home for me too please 😇

Keyleth:
I’d love to come!

Percy says he’s also free 😊

Vex:
I have international meetings both days
so I might be there a bit later but I can
come as soon as I’m free x

Alina:
Yay, can’t wait! 💞

Beautiful, dark blue and white Chinaware covered Jarrett and Alina’s small dining table, colourful dishes dug into but still warm as condensation fogged up the windows, and eventually, the front door swung open and Vex walked through, greeted by a cacophony of cheers and hello’s. 

Three already empty bottles of wine sat on the kitchen counter, everyone having insisted on bringing something , and as the clock crept closer to 8pm, Keyleth was feeling Zahra’s very liberal top ups of her drink. It felt nice though - cosy, a little fuzzy but in a gentle, safe kind of way. 

Scanlan had been playing album after album of phenomenal, under-discovered artists he’d worked with over the years, and the music was warm, a little jazzy. Alina and Jarret’s one-bedroom apartment was spacious but still much smaller than the open, sprawling living room Keyleth was used to being her home and the default hosting space. Everyone was scattered across two small couches, sprawled on the floor, or perched on a couple of office chairs wheeled over from Alina and Jarrett’s home office. Keyleth took in the easy, casualness of the night - Pike’s mismatched socks, Scanlan’s worn, old sweater, fraying at the sleeves, Alina having not bothered with makeup after working from home all day, Keyleth still in her clothes from a long day spent on campus and Vex in hers from work. She shucked off her elegant navy blue coat and the pristine leather boots that gave her several daunting inches of height, then deposited her bag by the couch Keyleth was seated on before going to give Alina a hug. Of course, Vex was the most appropriately dressed for an actual dinner party - pleated, grey tweed trousers and a beige button up that she was rolling at the sleeves and unbuttoning to her collarbones as Scanlan teased her about her day as a corporate girlboss. At some point between finishing work and coming here, she’d pulled her hair out of the bun Keyleth had seen it in this morning, and it cascaded over one shoulder. 

“Wine, darling?” asked Zahra. 

“Well, clearly I have a lot of catching up to do,” said Vex, nodding towards the evidence on the counter and settling onto the opposite couch to Keyleth. “And I need a very large glass if Scanlan is going to say the word girlboss more than he already has in the two seconds since I’ve walked in.” 

“You love it,” said Scanlan, grinning. “Makes you feel powerful.” 

“Who says I need a stupid corporate job to feel powerful?” Vex shot back. “Not that my job is stupid or corporate.” 

“Yes, yes, you’re doing lots of good in the world,” said Scanlan with a wave of his hand. “So which millionaires did you swindle money out of to actually fund something useful today?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” said Vex with a roll of her eyes, taking the alarmingly full glass of wine Zahra offered her with a chuckle. 

Alina narrowed her eyes. “Vex, I am begging you to eat some carbs before you drink that. There’s like, four different kinds of dumplings four feet away from you.” 

“I’m getting there!” insisted Vex. “It’s not my fault Zahra wants to get me drunk.” 

“Can’t blame a girl,” teased Zahra, waggling her eyebrows. 

Keyleth watched Vex flip Zahra off with a lighthearted grin, watched the comfort with which Vex navigated this lovely, cosy little apartment, knowing where the plates and chopsticks were in the cabinets, loading up her plate and exchanging easy, familiar conversation with Alina, muffled by the multiple circles of tipsy laughter and chatter around Keyleth. She followed the thread of a burst of giggles, finding Pike, Gilmore, and Jarrett immersed in some sort of chaos that had adjacent vibes to the silly, teasing, drunken games that came out at parties but with none of the rowdiness, something slightly softer and sincere to it all. It seemed to pull everybody in once Scanlan’s teasing abated and Zahra and Vex’s banter settled; candle and lamplight flickering, casting shadows onto the wall of the various sauce bottles and jars scattered over the coffee table. It was so comfortable that Keyleth almost forgot to be a part of it all, so content to just take it all in. Somewhere between Pike recounting the time a pastor caught her and Grog doing donuts with Grog’s truck in the church parking lot, and Zahra telling them all about the time, after first reading Matilda, that she and her brother had bleached their cousin’s hair and very nearly gotten murdered by several grandparents, Vex caught Keyleth’s eye, tilting her head with a half curious, half concerned expression as she mouthed You good? 

I’m fine , Keyleth mouthed back, smiling reassuringly. Just watching. 

That seemed to satisfy Vex, who was promptly pulled back into conversation with the others with vehement indignance, defending one of many embarrassing moments Pike had decided to share. Keyleth pulled one knee to her chest, resting her chin on it and observing fondly. 

One story turned into another, and another, each topped up with more wine, the sharp, vinegary scent of the dumpling dipping sauce Alina had made lingering in the warm air. Keyleth learned about Gilmore’s one foray into doing drag, though he refused to share why he never did it again since (Scanlan had a gleeful look in his eye that only dissipated after Gilmore’s warning glower). She learned about the six separate occasions that Zahra and Kash had been walked in on , about Alina almost giving Jarrett concussion one time during sex, about Pike’s nightmare patient who fell in love with her over the course of a night to such an extreme that she considered dropping out of med school altogether, about Percy getting stuck in a car he was trying to fix back when he worked at a garage during uni, about Alina’s little brother who used to swipe mochi from the self-serve tubs in their parents’ supermarket and blamed it on Alina and who Alina had yet to get back for it (though she swore she was waiting for the right time). Keyleth shared the time she, Maeve and Leeta had followed Orym and Will on a date because Maeve had determined suspicions that Will was going to propose, only to ruin a very romantic hiking date ( not proposal) by Leeta falling out of a tree and nearly breaking her arm. 

It was such a warm, cascading, endless flow of laughter and stories that had Keyleth not been so intently waiting for the little glimpses into Vex that she had been resolute about paying attention for, she would’ve missed it. 

Missed the sudden peal of laughter from Pike and Zahra and Alina, the red in the tips of Pike’s ears a clear giveaway that the conversation had taken a sharp downward turn into the gutter, though to what extent, Keyleth, and the others, seemingly, were at a loss. 

“Oh, come on Z!” exclaimed Alina. “You can’t leave it there!” 

“I can and I will.” 

“That’s not friendship. Friendship is the dirty details. I cooked for you.” 

“Your mother cooked for me.” 

“My mother would want you to tell me.” 

“Your mother would drop dead if she knew what this conversation was about right now.” 

“I’ll ask Kash.” 

“But alas, he’s not here, and he knows better than to divulge.” 

“Who needs Kash?” said Pike suddenly with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Vex can tell us. Hey Vex, tell us whether Zahra -” Promptly, Zahra’s hand covered Pike’s mouth. 

“We couldn’t possibly drag the rest of this delightful dinner party down to our dirty level with this,” said Zahra. 

“I’m begging you to,” said Scanlan. 

Zahra poked him with her toe. “Besides, Vex wouldn’t dare.” 

“ Vex -” Alina began but Vex just laughed, shaking her head and miming a zip over her mouth. 

Zahra grinned, blowing her a kiss and releasing Pike, who was now very drunkenly pouting. 

The chaos was already being dragged into something else by the time the implications suddenly settled on Keyleth’s admittedly wine addled brain. She watched Vex, glowing with confidence and maturity and comfortable mischief, and realised how plainly this had been right there in Keyleth’s line of sight, although she hadn’t known to look for it. 

Perhaps feeling the weight of Keyleth’s gaze on her, Vex’s eyes suddenly flickered to Keyleth again, and she caught Keyleth’s stare with a surprised expression before Keyleth could hurry to look away. 

Keyleth’s cheeks darkened. If it had been any other night, or even a week earlier, the tension between her and Vex or the still tentative awkwardness they were tiptoeing past since their fight would have had her looking away, or quickly apologising and going to get another drink. But everything about tonight had been softer around the edges, so Keyleth let the wine be her well of courage, bit her lip and gave Vex a curious, questioning look, then mouthed, You and Zahra?

There was a momentary pause, but Keyleth barely had time to overthink it before Vex shrugged and offered Keyleth a smirk - somewhere between a grin and a softer, shyer smile. It was easy to see it for the confirmation it was. Keyleth smiled back, wider and full of unexpected, sudden pride, somehow so intimately private despite the crowd of friends around them. 

Keyleth wanted to know every detail, every colour, every page of it all. 

She would settle for the warmth that spread through her chest as Vex’s smile widened too, before Percy pulled the two of them back into the thick of it, laughter and music and the pop of yet another bottle being uncorked beckoning them back in with intoxicating delight.

Keyleth was still fighting the urge to let her eyelids drift closed again when her phone buzzed against her bedside table. Flickering November sunshine cast pale but still faintly golden shapes on her wall and warmed her dark orange bed spread. These colder, darker mornings were still taking some getting used to. Keyleth knew that it would only be a few more weeks before she’d be leaving the house before the sun even began skittering across her floorboards, but for now, she’d savour what she could. She reached out to close her fingers around her phone, stretching out the lazy, sleepy lethargy in her muscles and basking in the golden hues across her bed, sheets and covers glowing like flames. 

Vex

7:26am:
You awake? 

7:31am:
I feel like I haven’t a) stretched
my legs beyond refilling my
cup of coffee at work between
meetings, and b) done anything
fun in town for weeks

7:32am:
If you’re free + want to come, I’m
thinking of a walk and a shop? And
several coffees, obviously. 

Keyleth blinked, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and finding an immediate smile of relief pulling at her lips as the messages sunk in with more clarity. A curl of warmth crept into her stomach. 

It did feel unexpectedly early to be venturing out of the house on a Saturday, but she supposed that it wasn’t wildly early given their silly adult schedules with their silly adult jobs that had most of the house up at the ass-crack of dawn to commute to all corners of the city. Even Scanlan seemed to have adopted the rest of the house’s up-at-sunrise body clock, one that often bled into the weekends. 

Keyleth pushed back her covers, greeted by the delightful warmth that meant someone else - likely Vex - was awake and had turned on the heating for everyone. She curled her toes into the carpet and tapped out a reply. 

Vex

7:36am:
Yes!!!

7:36am:
Just getting up now, gimme 15
mins to get ready? 

7:37am:
Perfect x

She’d known she missed Vex. She hadn’t entirely realised how much the distant treatment and fractures between them had been playing on her mind until suddenly, they weren’t, and instead Vex’s new-found warmth was permitted to wash over her too. The night before, when Vex had finished cooking in the kitchen, she’d held out a steaming spoon of crisp, saffron-scented rice for Keyleth to try, her hand cradled beneath to catch any rice that fell. (Her “Oh my god , Vex” had Vex grinning in delight, for all of two seconds, before Vax had materialised in the kitchen and attempted to swindle her out of a portion, a conversation which had rapidly descended into a vicious tea-towel slap fight.)

Keyleth quickly got dressed (finding a necessarily warm pair of corduroy trousers in her closet, pulling on one of her many patterned green sweaters, and quickly throwing her hair into two easy braids), brushed her teeth in record-time and crept down the stairs (avoiding the second to last one, which always seemed to creak extra loud when the house was quiet). She found Vex already in the kitchen, leaning against the breakfast bar, reading what looked like an email on her phone, with only the last dregs of what had once probably been a revoltingly bitter cup of black coffee in the brown ceramic mug in front of her. 

“Those better not be work emails,” Keyleth said, leaning against the back of the couch. Vex didn’t seem surprised to hear her - Keyleth had long since known that it was near impossible to creep up on either twin - but she did look adequately guilty at being caught out when she glanced up. “ Vex ,” chided Keyleth, rolling her eyes. 

“I know, I know,” said Vex. 

“Vax is gonna purposefully lock you out of your work account at this rate.” 

“Only if you tell him.” Vex gave Keyleth a wink, looping a finger around the handle of her mug, going to take one final gulp only to find it empty and letting out a mournful sigh and instead depositing it next to the sink. “I was just following up on a case I’ve been waiting on a resolution for. Promise I won’t even think about an email all day.” 

“Mm, sure,” said Keyleth but her indignant reprimands were already falling away. “What case was it? Did you guys get what you wanted?” 

Vex told her all about it as they slipped out of the house and followed familiar, quiet footpaths through their neighbourhood towards the centre of Whitestone. It was a remarkably lively morning outside the sleepiness of their own home, dog walkers that Vex seemed to recognise smiling as they passed, runners huffing out misty breath into the cold air, and the steadily rising sun chasing away the frost that lined the edges of the roads. Eventually, they found themselves in a part of the city it took Keyleth a moment to recognise at this hour of day and with the bustle that surrounded it now: Whitestone’s indoor market. Keyleth stayed half a step behind Vex as she easily wove around vendors still setting up and early risers who’d come down to the city centre to get the first pick of fresh produce. 

Keyleth had only been here briefly before. It had been pointed out on one of the early tours of the Whitestone city centre that Vax and Pike had taken upon themselves to give her. She’d wandered past the grand ironwork archway leading into the market hall several times, arching her neck up at the ancient-looking metal sign that hung from the ceiling to point the way. It was different being inside though, standing in front of rows of small stalls selling everything under the sun, from coffee and freshly-baked breakfast foods from far away places, to antiques and fabric and shoelaces. 

Unfamiliar scents mingled in the air, and Keyleth took a moment to breathe deeply, an unexpected pang in her chest at how much it momentarily felt - smelled - like her old neighbourhood back in Emon. It was far from the lazy outdoor Sunday morning markets that were commonplace in Zephrah, but there was an echo of familiarity to it too. It felt like the beating heart of Whitestone, far more alive than she’d expected when walking past before. It also felt a little like a secret, like stumbling onto a pocket of magic that didn’t exist all the time, a place that she was lucky to see in this crisp, autumnal sunshine, glowing warm and inviting. Light caught on enormous, lush plant leaves, steam drifted into the air from the coffee carts on all corners of the market, colourful fabrics glistened and danced in the chilled breeze that whistled through the open doors. 

Keyleth craned her neck to peer at the colourful bunting strung from the high ceiling, looping a little unevenly across the hall, sun-bleached by all the years it had hung there, until she was startled out of her reverie by a hand on her arm tugging her effortlessly out of the way of other shoppers. 

Vex pressed a paper bag of something warm into her hand. Two small cakes - thick and doughy with flecks of currants and orange zest throughout, more scone-like than anything else. Fresh from the griddle and smothered in hot sugar. They smelt divine, and Vex laughed when Keyleth’s stomach audibly grumbled.

Vex felt different here. Keyleth watched as her shoulders loosened and her posture eased. It hit Keyleth with weighted clarity that she was being offered something Vex had been keeping from her for months, although Keyleth couldn’t quite pinpoint what exactly that was. This place? No, more than that. The truth, maybe. She’d been handed pieces of the past six years freely by the others but never before by Vex. She’d missed her chance to know them; she would have heard all about this place if she’d stayed in contact after landing in Zephrah, she was certain of it, but she hadn’t and therefore in Vex’s eyes, she hadn’t deserved to hear about it upon her return.

It was perfectly fair, but it stung.

Keyleth curled her hand around the warm paper bag with a smile, then fished out one of the cakes and broke it in half, passing part over to Vex and following her as she continued to walk. 

She’d never seemed more in her element than here as they made their way down a makeshift aisle, loose change in her pocket and determination in her step, effortlessly at home. She clearly had a history with this place, more so than the rest of their friends; she knew it like the back of her hand. 

After leading Keyleth past a small juice bar with apples, oranges, and fresh sugar cane piled high in wooden crates out the front, all glinting in radiant morning sun, Vex finally slowed her quick, light-footed weaving into the thick of the market a little. She nudged Keyleth’s arm with hers, nodding towards a run down looking kitchen, still shuttered on the market’s mezzanine floor, just barely visible from where they were standing. Aunt Sal’s, the slightly rusty sign above the entrance read, in looping, slightly uneven cursive. It didn’t look like much, but there was a quiet warmth in Vex’s smile that hinted otherwise. 

“Vax and I came here all the time when we first moved,” she explained, gesturing up towards the small seating area outside the closed kitchen hatch, barely more than a few scattered tables. “Vax worked at a bar a couple streets away - did he show you?” Keyleth nodded and Vex made a pleased hum. “My room in first year was a tiny and there was a period of maybe three or four months when the library on campus needed repairs on half the floors so it was always a fight to the death to try and get a good study spot on the remaining floors, and half of them still had all the awful construction noise. So I’d come into the city after my classes were over and study at the Whitestone City Library instead.” A fond burst of colour brightened her face, barely distinguishable from the cold flush on her cheeks. “Percy suggested it,” she admitted, a little quieter, shyer. 

Keyleth pressed her mouth shut determinedly even as a million curious questions clamoured to her lips, begging to burst free. She wanted to hear every detail Vex was willing to offer freely, first. “Funding for Whitestone’s public services has been abysmal the past decade but thankfully, the library was spared. It’s open until 11 on Thursdays to Saturdays, which was when Vax worked, so after he finished his shift, we’d come here and Sal would scrape out her pots and send us home with leftovers we couldn’t pay her for. Best meat stew I’ve ever eaten, and the most amazing fresh bread. Though don’t ever order her pies, they’re awful.” The glint in her eyes was deadly serious and Keyleth nodded again, heeding the warning. It faded from Vex’s expression quickly, though, replaced by a vulnerable sort of gratitude. “It wasn’t much, but - we were hungry and both of us were still trying to figure out how to put trust and safety and faith in the people we’d started to become close with, and Sal was kind when she had no reason to be. Said we were far too scrawny for our own good.”

It made Keyleth’s chest ache in a way she didn’t know how to explain. She could imagine the twins so easily, scrawny and proud, cut loose in an unfamiliar city and not expecting to find the help they did along the way.

“I’d like to meet her sometime,” she told Vex, and Vex smiled.

“I’ll take you. I don’t go back as often as I should, but I try to check up on her every now and then. Plus she’s been here so long she's part of the woodwork - she knows everyone in this place, she could always get us a good deal when we needed new shoelaces or a warm enough jacket for the winter, but could barely manage to cobble together enough for our rent. That sheepskin corduroy jacket of mine you complimented the other day? That was from here. Vax and I were freezing our asses off because Emon’s balmy fucking coastal climate never got as cold as here and there were snow warnings for the following week and we were panicking about where the fuck we were meant to get snow jackets for less than forty dollars. We were having dinner here and Sal overheard us and strongarmed us over to Ric, who doesn’t have a stall here anymore, and we both left with winter clothes we definitely paid much less than half for.” 

Little pieces of information that were olive branches, especially coming from Vex. And she was giving Keyleth so many of them that Keyleth was starting to realise there was a whole tree towering above her; she just needed to start climbing it. 

“Here,” Vex told her, leading her past a small stall selling dubiously-safe electricals and a display of handmade stained-glass tea-light holders, lingering by her side as Keyleth picked one up to admire the craftsmanship. This must be where Pike got hers, Keyleth realised. She’d wondered the first time she’d seen it, but had forgotten to ask - it sat on her bedside table and cast blue and white shades onto her walls when lit, beautiful.

She eventually followed Vex  over to a small plant stall at the edge of the hall, half tucked beneath the mezzanine, the owner greeting her with a smile but otherwise ignoring them as she finished setting plants out on tables ready for the day. Ivy wove up wrought-iron pillars, stretching wildly through the structure and tangling with the hooks of hanging baskets, all sorts of plants coexisting in a somewhat disorganised tangle, on shelves beside empty terracotta plant pots and plant food, compost and seeds. 

“This is what I wanted to show you,” Vex said. 

Keyleth took a step closer, surprised to see plants from Tal’dorei mixed in with more unfamiliar foliage from Marquet, Issylra, and beyond. And tucked in amongst them - 

“I asked when you first moved in,” Vex told her a little awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck. “They have a few plants from Zephrah. I meant to tell you, I knew you wanted some for your room. I just … well.” She gave Keyleth a small, wry smile. “You know.” 

“That’s okay,” Keyleth said quickly. The mountainous weight of Vex’s self-deprecation had become something that, since their monumentous conversation, Keyleth had been watching out for. No matter the hurt or confusion Vex’s distance had caused, Keyleth refused to let Vex use it against herself. 

“I thought maybe you could pick one,” Vex told her, suddenly sounding a little shy, “and we can call it a housewarming gift.”

Keyleth’s faint, confused frown softened. “Vex -”

“Shut up. Or I’ll take it back.”

An unexpected laugh burst out of her. 

Vex rolled her eyes, folding her arms with a stubborn finality that Keyleth knew all too well. She gestured to the furthest shelf of plants and Keyleth held her gaze for a moment before breaking into a smile and nodding, making her way over to the plants that felt the most like home. She’d been looking for some for weeks, albeit somewhat halfheartedly, and she’d known they must be sold somewhere in the city. She brushed her finger lightly beneath a small blue flower, peered at the pot’s label and privately, contentedly, smiled to herself.

Now that she and Vex had cleared the air, it was more entertaining than Keyleth expected to see all the ways the twins' relationship hadn’t changed. 

She’d noticed the changes almost immediately, of course; all of the little ways that being away from their father had softened them as people, the ease with which they leaned on the people around them, trusted others to hold them upright rather than staying solely in their endlessly loving but fiercely independent, co dependent pair. What the distance between her and Vex had hidden, however, was just how much, in so many ways, Vex and Vax were still the absolute children Keyleth remembered meeting over a decade ago. 

They bickered constantly. They physically fought each other for the shower in the morning. They were constantly stealing each other’s food, and personal space was still entirely non-existent between them. They vied for Trinket’s - and Keyleth’s, and Percy’s, and basically everybody else’s - attention on a daily basis, with the same competitive edge every time. 

It might have even been exasperating at times, if it hadn’t been the backdrop of Keyleth’s entire adolescence, and if she hadn’t missed it so desperately her entire adult life so far.

It took her a few days to realise why it felt more prevalent now that she and Vex were on good terms; until now, she hadn’t been the one Vex would find when frustrated or fed up with her brother. Keyleth had been privy to Vax’s moments of frustration with Vex, but never the reverse, and it was both a quiet, unexpected delight, and also immensely amusing to hear the same irritations they’d had at sixteen still bouncing back and forth between them.

Beside her, Vex huffed. 

Keyleth had barely stepped foot back in the house that evening before Vex had ambushed her in the hallway, demanded, “Are you free tonight?” and when Keyleth was halfway through a, “Yes, why?”, unceremoniously dragged her back out the door, eyes blazing and car keys clutched in hand with furious purpose. 

“Doesn’t Vax need the car tonight?” Keyleth pointed out. 

“He can take the bus,” said Vex through her teeth, and the ferocity in her eyes made a sudden rush of sense as Keyleth remembered. 

Fifteen, Vex storming down a corridor at school and dragging Keyleth alongside after one of Vax’s careless, derisive comments about a boy Vex liked. 

Sixteen, Vex knocking on Keyleth’s front door on a Sunday afternoon, the same frustration radiating off her in waves as she flopped down on Keyleth’s bed and told her about the fight Vax had picked with Syldor on Vex’s behalf, how he’d stormed off and left Vex to deal with Syldor’s cold rage and sharpness when Vax should have just let it go. 

Seventeen, Vex huffing out a breath and telling Keyleth that Vax was hers, of course, and she adored him, but she needed space too, space he wasn’t always willing to give her. 

The tension in Vex’s shoulders, the loud bang of the car door slamming shut behind her as she and Keylth bundled inside, the angry, guilty, overwhelmed grip she had on the steering wheel as they pulled away from the curb - Keyleth finally recognised something she had seen in Vex these past months but hadn’t understood in this evolved, grown up form. She’d only known it in those teenage frustrations and childish bursts of emotion. 

“It’s stupid,” Vex finally said, fifteen minutes away from their house, making a turn away from the part of Whitestone Keyleth now knew reasonably well. The Alabaster Sierra mountains filled Keyleth’s view with slightly intimidating grandeur. “It’s actually very stupid, but he’s stupid, and I don’t want to be annoyed at him, so.” Vex shrugged, some of the tightness in her shoulders sapping away at the movement but there was still a dangerous flash in her eyes that Keyleth knew far better than to underestimate. 

“Of course,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it now, or …?” 

Vex shook her head. “I, uh. I have a spot in mind. It’ll be a bit more of a drive though.” 

“That’s fine,” Keyleth said quickly. “I don’t mind.” 

Vex relaxed a little more. 

“Music?” Keyleth suggested. 

“You pick.” 

Buried beneath six years of other playlists, there was still one full of loud, ferocious pop punk performed by very cool, very angry women. It was Vex’s, of course, but Keyleth had it saved. She plugged her phone in to the old, fraying AUX cord trailing by her feet and pressed play, then let the rush of electric guitar burst free from the speakers as sound filled the car. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Keyleth watched Vex’s lips quirk upwards. 

The sun had disappeared beneath the horizon by the time smooth roads turned to a gravelly dirt track, winding through tall, towering pine trees. Eventually, they reached a clearing on top of a hill that it took Keyleth a moment to realise was actually a half-finished carpark. 

“Where are we?” she asked, leaning forward against the dashboard to peer out in search of a sign. “Is this when you reveal us making up was some elaborate ruse, and then kill me?”

Vex swatted her. “Dumbass. No. Come on, I’ll show you.” She pushed open her door and Keyleth followed in suit, pebbles crunching under her shoes as they met rough, cracked concrete. Vex locked the car, the lights flashing bright before winking black, leaving them with only the shimmering, glittering star-like flickers of the city lights stretching out before them. Past the abruptly abandoned carpark, Vex led them both to a structure Keyleth hadn’t seen in the darkness of their arrival, a circular lookout with what once must’ve been sleek metallic fencing, elegant wooden benches and surprisingly, an information sign. Keyleth couldn’t read it in the dark but Vex jumped in before she could pull out her phone to try. 

“We’re by the Parchwood,” she explained. “The regular hiking trails begin the next hill over. This was in construction to be an amazing lookout spot around ten, fifteen years ago. They even wanted to build an observatory up here.” 

“Whoa, seriously?” said Keyleth, eyes widening and properly surveying the space around them. 

“Yeah, but they didn’t even get as far as the regular lookout before -” Vex stopped suddenly, and when Keyleth turned to check on her, there was an odd hesitance on her face. 

“Vex? Are you -” 

“Vax stole my shirt this morning.” 

Keyleth blinked, wondering if the refreshing quiet and the fresh smell of pine and the brighter scattering of stars above them had swallowed the words Vex had actually said and morphed them into something else. “He -” 

“Stole my shirt,” Vex repeated, an edge of irritation in her voice now and she turned to rest her arms on the railing in front of them, staring out at the city. “Which is literally nothing , on any other day, I wouldn’t care less.” 

(Fifteen, Vex turning up to school alone and in another huff, dragging Keyleth out of their homeroom to give her a hissed rundown of Vax stealing her t-shirt from her wardrobe that morning, frustration rolling off her in waves.)

“You’ve always traded clothes,” Keyleth added, hoping it came out as an agreement and gentle reminder rather than an argument. 

“I know.” Vex sighed, hanging her head. “ I know. ” 

Keyleth took the small couple of steps between them, also leaning against the railing. Even through her sweatshirt and jacket, the metal felt chilled and damp beneath her forearms. “What happened today?” 

Vex didn’t say anything for several long moments. The wind rustled through the trees. Somewhere, far away in the thick of the forest, an owl hooted faintly.

“I’m up for a promotion at work,” said Vex. “Someone resigned unexpectedly and my manager told me that I’m one of the people they’re eying to be the replacement. It’s not something I would ordinarily be in the running for, or would even think to apply for at this stage of my career but … fuck, Key, it would be huge. I’d get to travel , the salary bump would be absolutely fucking insane. I could actually be apart of the work we do on the ground, see how it helps long term. I’d get a say in what we do and how we do it and how we can change and be better.” 

“That’s so cool, Vex,” said Keyleth earnestly. 

Vex smiled, sincere and a little shy. “Thanks.” She sighed, pushing messy, frizzy hair out of her face. “I’m not sure who I’m up against or how likely I am to get it, but it feels like I’m under a microscope every second of every day. I have a million things I’m trying to do perfectly to show how good I am, the very least of which is looking and feeling confident and professional when I show up everyday.” 

“And Vax stole your shirt,” said Keyleth, a soft, understanding breath whistling past her teeth as she exhaled. “Right.” 

“It’s Thursday and I’ve been run off my feet for almost two weeks now, I’m literally at the very end of my clean work clothes and I had one good shirt left for an insanely busy day where I was meeting with our COO, and I went to get dressed and it wasn’t there. And I know he took it because I could smell his cologne and I dunno, twin thing I guess, and it’s not like he knew that it was the only shirt I had or that I’ve been under so much stress because I haven’t told him because he’ll be so you’ve got it in the bag, Stubby about it that it’ll freak me out even more. But the one shirt I did have was so goddamn itchy and my meetings all went terribly and I’m going to have to work through the weekend to fix reports for a client, and yes, obviously, that can’t all be blamed on a shirt, but it’s all I could think about all day and I broke out in a rash on my chest from I don’t know, terrible synthetic material or stress or whatever the fuck it was, and I was meant to go to a work dinner tonight and had this low cut dress that would’ve looked hot as fuck if I didn’t have hives on my tits and if Vax had just asked first -” 

“Breathe, Vex,” Keyleth interrupted gently, curling her hand around Vex’s wrist. 

Vex did, and Keyleth could hear in the tremble of it that the anger was verging on something much more fragile now. 

“I love him,” Vex said, with an unintentionally sharp edge to it.

Keyleth didn’t bother with an I know this time. There was nothing in the world she knew with more certainty than how infinitely Vex and Vax loved each other. She hummed softly, giving Vex’s wrist a little squeeze. 

“I’m just -” Vex’s jaw clenched. “I know things are stressful for you guys, I know you have so much on your plate with the Tal’dorei Ecological project and with your MAs and Vax is obviously working much more than he should be with that kind of workload, but it’s not like you guys have a bloody dress code! And he doesn’t have to navigate all this stupid bureaucracy and expectation and fucking corporate-adjacent subtext of business and money and trying to do something good within it all. And I can’t explain it to him because I learned so much of what it meant to walk on this kind of tightrope from being around Dad, and there’s a reason I can move around these spaces the way I do, why I’m so good at my job and at talking to the absurdly wealthy men I have to charm every other week into funding our projects. And Vax hates that. He hates that there was something I learned from our father that’s helped me, no matter how horrible it was to experience. He hates that I’m willing to put on a mask, or a facade, to be more successful at what I do because I can’t do my job with just sincerity or just heart and passion, and I learned that long before I ever got this job.” Vex shook her head. “I know he understands that in theory, I’m always going to have to work a little bit - or a lot - harder to earn the same respect that he could get in whatever he does because the men who pull the puppet strings above me don’t see competence, they see my body and my face and my smile until I prove otherwise.” 

“Vax has always been able to be more himself than you,” Keyleth reminded quietly. “And you’re allowed to be a little mad about it. And obviously, yeah, there are lots of things you can’t just say to him without sparking some kind of argument about your dad, but he’d understand you being annoyed about the shirt because of the promotion.” 

Vex dragged the toes of her boots against the unkept, crumbling concrete below them. The corner of one block of stone broke into a scattering of pebbles, tumbling down to the grassy hill before them. “But if he thinks I’m genuinely upset with him about it,” Vex said, slow and careful, “he might stop taking things from my closet altogether.” 

It felt like an incredibly weighted sentence for such a simple sentiment. 

Keyleth took her time to thoroughly mull it over.

With how the twins grew up before Syldor, belongings and clothes were precious. She knew sharing between them was out of practicality and necessity long before it was out of love. And while Vex worked an impressive, high paying job, Keyleth had intimate knowledge of how badly PhD scholarships and TA jobs provided an adequate income for the expenses of adult life. Keyleth had been lucky to spend the last six years with the support - financial and otherwise - of her father and extended family. She’d been gifted plush scarves and warm winter coats, treated to a new suit for her first formal academic event, things that she had, naturally, brought with her to Whitestone. She doubted Vax had managed to accumulate the same essentials. But Vex probably had, after two years of full time work. The twins were still similar enough sizes, even after all these years. Keyleth suspected the good quality clothes Vex had stocked her wardrobe with were never meant to be just for her anyway. 

Somehow, that still didn’t feel like what Vex was talking about. 

“The things he borrows from me,” Vex said quietly. “They’re things that once upon a time, he never would’ve bought for himself. Whether because of Dad or because of how scared he was to look that beautiful, real version of himself in the eye, or because we were still just kids and high school is a nightmare and other teenagers can be cruel.” 

Keyleth thought about the breathless, incredulous, weightless laughter from Vax the first time she and Pike had pinned him down and put terrible, too-glittery, delightfully campy eyeliner on him. About the misty eyed expression on Vex’s face as she’d watched. 

“When we first moved here - those first couple of years when he had Gilmore and Zahra and Kash and Scanlan and he could be and try anything and everything but couldn’t afford to just throw money at buying himself whatever new clothes he wanted - a lot of the stuff he experimented with to find his style were mine. And he never asked me because we’d never asked each other before but also because I don’t think he knew how. It’s far easier to be annoying than it is to be vulnerable. I never wanted to scare him away from that, so I figured, fuck it, if I took something I’d wanted to wear that day, I could find something else.” 

“He’s lucky to have you,” Keyleth said. “And I’m sure he knows it.” 

Vex smiled, somewhere between wry and relieved. It flickered for a moment though, fading from her face as her attention dropped to chipped nail polish on the edge of her left thumb. “I guess maybe I’m also only realising as I get older that how I present myself to the world has always been just as important to me as it was for him, but for different reasons. He was always trying to find a style that showed the world exactly who he was. But for so long, how I dressed was my way of controlling how I was perceived by the world. Most of my clothes didn’t actually feel like me - it was always Vax’s shitty old sweatpants and stupid band t-shirts I would steal when I wanted something that made me feel more real than whoever the fuck I was trying to be for everyone else. Now, we’ve both found something much more genuine and -” Something caught in the back of Vex’s throat and Keyleth loosened her grip so that Vex could bring her palm to her cheek, swiping away a traitorous tear. “I’m proud of both of us for it. And I’m glad that he still knows he can take what he wants of mine when he needs it. Just … not today . Not when I fucked up a client call, and we couldn’t get a translator on the line when we needed one so some funding we could have had fell through and it’s gonna stay in some rich jerk’s pocket instead of going where it’s actually needed .”

She cut herself off, running a hand over her face. “I want to be mad at him. But not to him. You were always the person who understood that best.” 

She didn’t add anything else, and Keyleth pressed her shoulder against Vex’s in silent acknowledgement before letting the calm, evening quiet settle between them. A few stray leaves flew by their feet, though most of the trees that weren’t pines had already become fairly threadbare, branches wispy and sparse. 

Keyleth was sure she’d once known how cold Whitestone became over the winter months but she couldn’t quite remember. It was easy to imagine the charming cobbled streets of the city centre covered in a thick blanket of snow though, and she remembered seeing a handful of similar pictures when the twins had first researched the place so she’d need to look into it soon. She hadn’t packed enough warm clothes.

Although that said, any clothing left lying around in their house seemed to be fair game as the evenings grew colder; it wasn’t unusual for Percy to swipe a sweater of Vex’s from the back of the couch and tug it on, for Vex to wander around in old sports team sweatpants with Z. Hydris printed up the leg beneath a sponsorship logo, or to find Zahra, Kash, or Gilmore sitting on the couch for an impromptu movie night wearing a mishmash of other people’s clothes. 

Vax, in particular, made a habit of it. A faded deep purple sweatshirt of Gilmore’s with the logo of their go-to queer bar in town, Mary’s , printed in white onto the fabric, a pale blue Whitestone Med t-shirt she’d seen him in more than once, hoodies that belonged to Percy or Scanlan or Grog, the sleeves rolled up. And the ones that were Vex’s too - thicker, intricately knit, higher quality fabric than Vax’s own now she was climbing the ranks at work, soft on the inside and the perfect size for him too, deep blues and teals. Keyleth had seen Vex roll her eyes upon noticing, but she’d seen the subsequent brushes of her hand across the fabric too, the brief squeeze of her fingers around Vax’s wrist.

 “This is okay, right?” Vex asked suddenly, running her nail through a line in the metallic railing. “Me talking this through with you, even though it’s about him. I figured … it used to be okay. But obviously, with everything, you’ve been a lot closer to him these past months.” 

She dug her nail a little deeper.

By the end of high school, the twins were Keyleth’s two closest friends in the world. Her loyalty lay tangled between the both of them, able to be a sounding board and a balance when needed for either, or more often, both. It was a fairly unique position to be in, occasionally difficult to navigate, but she would never have traded it. Not for anything in the world. And in truth, she was realising every day that she’d missed it more than she’d realised; despite the curl of warmth in her stomach that came from being Vax’s friend again, the absence of his sister in that friendship had been immediately and uncomfortably noticeable. They were Vex and Vax, so often introduced together, and it was odd having one half of the pair feel so close and the other further than Keyleth could even reach.

“I’m still yours too,” she told Vex quietly, and Vex’s eyes darted immediately back up to her, wide and a little taken aback. Keyleth shrugged one shoulder, aiming for a casual smile. “If you want me to be.”

“I do,” Vex said quickly. 

Keyleth gave in to the smile pulling at her lips, ducking her head to hide it a little. 

It took another few minutes of silence, filled by wind and the occasional rumble of a car or bus down on the main road they’d turned off, before Keyleth said, “Can I ask you something?” 

Vex glanced over at her. “Of course.” 

“What were you going to say before we started talking about Vax? About this lookout?” 

She expected the familiar shuttering of Vex’s expression, the torn flicker of vulnerability in her eyes that disappeared in a flash. Instead, something thoughtful tugged at her features, had her humming softly. Eventually, she said, “What has Percy told you about this part of town?” 

“Percy?” Keyleth echoed. “Oh, um - not a whole lot? I mean, he gave me some great recommendations for some hiking trails to check out but also that they weren’t super well maintained. Why?” 

Vex glanced behind her shoulder, over at the Parchwood with something soft and wistful in her eyes. “He showed me this place,” she said quietly, reverently. 

“When?” Keyleth asked, matching Vex’s volume but knowing her curiosity saturated the entire shape of the word. 

“The very complicated summer after first year,” Vex said with a low chuckle. “Which, actually, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” 

“Oh, really?” said Keyleth. 

Vex’s lips twisted from a smile to a grimace. “I had my own Ryan that summer,” she admitted. “His name was Saundor.” 

Dread sank to the bottom of Keyleth’s stomach like a rock. “What happened?” she asked even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. 

A ripple of tension travelled across Vex’s shoulders again. “I’m sure everybody’s told you that Percy and I had something going on in first year?” 

Keyleth nodded an affirmative. 

“We broke it off towards the end of the year. There were …” Vex rolled her eyes exasperatedly, though that felt like a tremulous cover for something far more fragile. “There were a lot of reasons. The friend group we all had was so special, we were going to be living together the following year, neither of us were in particularly healthy headspaces. And, well.” She swallowed. “I was falling for him and I was terrified of it, so of course I broke things off.” 

“Vex,” Keyleth said softly. 

Vex shook her head. “It was a good thing. It would have blown up in our faces otherwise. But that summer, half of our friends went back home. Vax and I couldn’t get a sublet together for the summer so we had to live in separate places for the first time in our lives and they were on opposite ends of town. We were both working so much to make ends meet and Percy and I were avoiding each other for the sake of space and Vax was having a really good time with Gilmore that summer and I -” Something got choked at the back of her throat. Keyleth watched Vex’s eyes flicker shut, her fingers starting to fiddle with the sleeve of her jacket as she took a slow, fortifying breath. “I had started to realise I might be bisexual,” she said, much, much quieter now. Keyleth could hear the shake in it. 

When, after a moment, Vex didn’t say anything else, Keyleth pushed her hand along the railing, back towards Vex, pressing the backs of her fingers against Vex’s hand. “Can I ask how?” Keyleth asked quietly. 

Vex gave a sort of aborted nod. “I mean, I guess you kinda know?” 

The quick, wine-hazy, chaos-clouded moment at Alina and Jarrett’s apartment flickered into Keyleth’s mind. “Zahra?” 

“Mm hm. I spent much more time with her that summer than anyone else. We’d finally started to get along after barely being able to be in the same room together all year, and I knew I wasn’t doing well so it was … I dunno, easier, I guess, to be with someone who I wasn’t so close to that they would see right through me. But, turned out, Zahra could still see right through me anyway, and … well. You know Z, she’s not exactly subtle. It was necessarily confronting, and she was the person who helped me make sense of it later, but at the time, I still freaked the fuck out and decided I wanted to run away from it just a little longer. So, of course, I ended up being really easy pickings for a guy like Saundor.” 

“How bad was he?” asked Keyleth hesitantly. 

“It wasn’t -” Vex’s voice was thick with tears now. “He wasn’t cruel or unsafe or anything, but -” Something hard found its way into her eyes. “He was like my father. Which is maybe just as bad, but in a different way.” 

All of Keyleth’s breath left her lungs in a rush. “Fuck,” she said without really meaning to. “Vex.” 

“Yeah, I know,” said Vex, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Daddy issues ‘n all that. Don’t worry, I’ve been to therapy since. And had Zahra chew me the fuck out for it, which is basically the same thing.” 

Keyleth snorted with laughter. 

“It was a bad few months but I managed to get myself out of it eventually. Crashed with Zahra for a few weeks, then worked up the courage to tell Vax and Percy what had happened, with Gilmore and Zahra on deck to stop them both from going to commit literal murder. Vax, Percy and I moved into our new place at the end of the summer, Z made me sit down and talk through queerness with her, she and Kash started teaching me how to cook, Scanlan came back to Whitestone, Percy sweet talked our landlord then snuck off to Emon with Pike and Grog so they could bring Trinket back with them, which basically made up for the entire shitty summer. It was around then that Percy took me out here.” A reminiscent smile crossed Vex’s face. “He’d been fixing up an old car at the garage he used to work at back then to surprise me and Vax, and the two of us took it for a test drive. He brought me up here. Told me about what this place was meant to have been built into but never had, and why.” 

“Why wasn’t it?”  

Vex looked properly at Keyleth now. “Because the two people who’d been funding the construction, and restoration of the area, and conservation of the forest, died unexpectedly a little under a decade ago.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, tapping on the flashlight and tugged Keyleth over to the large, metallic information placard. She held her hand so close that it only really illuminated the first paragraph, but Keyleth didn’t need to read further than the first line. 

The Parchwood Restoration Project is funded and spearheaded by the owners of Whitestone’s own Sun Tree Enterprises - Frederick and Johanna de Rolo. 

“Oh,” said Keyleth in a small voice. “Are those -” 

“Percy’s parents.” 

“And they’re -” 

“Dead. Yeah.” 

“Oh,” Keyleth said again.

Vex grimaced, but in a way that was well-worn, and tired on someone else’s behalf. “The de Rolos used to be one of the most important families in Whitestone. Sun Tree Enterprises was their engineering company; they manufactured parts. But they were never shy to weigh in on politics, had several charities that enormous profits from their company would go towards, especially for poorer communities in Whitestone. Frederick and Johanna were on good terms with the mayor and the governor and the local council and then politicians elsewhere in the country too. And they were very vocally politically progressive.”  

If Keyleth had felt dread earlier, when Vex was talking about Saundor, she felt outright sick now. “What happened to them?” 

Vex turned her flashlight off. For a moment, the darkness was so disconcerting that Keyleth couldn’t make out Vex’s face. 

“They died in a plane accident, along with most of Percy’s siblings.” 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“Yeah.” 

Vex was starting to come back into view as Keyleth’s eyes adjusted to the dark again. 

“The company was taken over by some business associates, then sold to this rich, conservative couple who basically cut off all the funds Sun Tree had been channelling into good things in the city. One of which was this. So it’s just here. Like this.” 

“How -” Keyleth’s voice broke with horror and disbelief. “How did he bring himself to stay here after all of that?” 

“I wonder that a lot,” Vex agreed, her fingers trailing along the sharp corners of the placard. “He still won’t tell me a lot of the details. I don’t really know much about what happened to him after his family died, just that he was taken in by a friend of his parents. But he told me that he sees his parents in our parts of this city more than he sees what he lost, and that they loved this place so much. I think he feels like he owes it to them to stay here and find his own way to give back to the city too.” 

“Would he be okay with you bringing me here?” asked Keyleth, suddenly alarmed that she was clambering all over a place that had sacred memories for Percy, and for Vex by extension. 

“Undoubtedly,” Vex promised. “He actually suggested it a few weeks ago, before the weather got bad.” 

“And you, telling me all this - he’d be fine with that too?” 

“I know he wants you to know, Keyleth. He’s just very much like the rest of us and has no idea where you begin in giving a new friend the lowdown on your traumatic childhood experiences. So don’t make a big deal about it when we go home, okay?” 

“No, no,” Keyleth said quickly. “I - I won’t. Thank you, though. For bringing me.” 

Vex smiled, a little sad but with much of the heaviness she’d come here with having eased from her shoulders. “Thank you for coming with me. I’m sorry for derailing your evening.” 

“Don’t be,” said Keyleth immediately. “I’m glad you did. Really.” 

Vex looked a little embarrassed, but pleased nevertheless. “I’m at least going to buy you dinner as a thank you, alright? We can pretend it’s coming out of my hopeful eventual promotion.” 

Keyleth laughed, and didn’t bother trying to argue. 

They stayed out on the lookout, watching over the city, listening to the owls and the wind howling through the trees, for a little longer. It was only when Vex bustled them back into the car as their fingers and cheeks and ears started to chill as night fully settled over the city and the hills, that Keyleth spoke again. 

“Are you less mad about everything with Vax, now?” 

The engine rumbled to life, warmth blasting out the vents immediately. Keyleth’s phone automatically continued playing the moment she plugged it in, the speakers blaring loudly with pop rock angst that made them both yelp and jump in their seats. Keyleth’s hand shot out to spin the volume dial to zero as Vex began reversing out of the carpark. 

“I’m better than I was,” she said truthfully. “I’m still irritated but it’s not at him. Not really.” 

“Are you going to talk to him about it?” 

They began winding back back down the hill, through the trees, the tires crunching against the gravel road. It was as they hit tarmac again that Vex said, “Not this time.” There was a different edge to her voice now. 

Ketleth waited, wondering, but Vex elaborated without her having to ask.

“I don’t want to argue with him at this time of year.” 

Out of nowhere, Keyleth’s heart ached with a long-familiar grief that wasn’t her own. November had barely started but was already disappearing quickly, the days slipping through her fingers, and Keyleth stored the date of Elaina’s death in her mind right beside her mom’s. November’s early sunsets and icy mornings and darkening days had always signalled the eventual day that Vex and Vax could never run far enough from.

It would be a lie to say Keyleth hadn’t wondered how - if - things had changed. She’d talked herself out of reaching out the first November she was in Zephrah, knowing that making contact for the first time then of all times would hurt more than it could help. Even so far away, amidst trees that stayed more evergreen in the winter, with sunsets that were different colours and flowers that smelled nothing like the bouquet of Elaina’s favourites Vex bought for herself every year, Keyleth still felt that ache in the colder days of the year, year after year, no matter what. She’d never been able to get those two little kids with long dark hair and serious hazel eyes off her mind so she’d daydreamed instead, indulging the fragile fantasy that the distance between them and Syldor would help ease the sting of losing their mother just a little, that they’d open up to new friends and find joy in Christmas lights and the childish excitement of snow, just like Elaina would have wanted for them. 

It had always been too wishful to be the truth, but it stung to see it confirmed in Vex’s expression.

Which meant that like clockwork, November would tick on by. Vex’s sturdier-than-they-used-to-be walls would crack apart. Vax would disappear into himself, steadily putting distance between him and the rest of the world - Vex especially - until the anniversary passed on by and he was dragged back to the land of the living. Vex was right - the last thing either of them needed right now was for her to push him away prematurely over something so frivolous. 

“Well, I’m here,” Keyleth promised. “Anytime you want to be mad at him.” 

Vex laughed. It sounded lighter this time, much more real. “I’ll take you up on that, Key.”

Chapter Text

Sure enough, when the end of November rolled around, it felt exactly how it had all those years ago. Even with Vex’s warning the week before, some part of Keyleth had still kept clinging to a seemingly futile hope that over the time she’d been away, and with this family the twins now had around them, the way these days played out might have changed. At least a little . But no - Vax had steadily grown quieter over the past week, pulling away from them all. She’d seen him for a total of maybe twenty minutes over the last few days; he’d chosen to bury his head in research instead of looking up and seeing the world, or his sister. Vex’s usually thick-shelled exterior had dissipated as he did so, replaced by something far shakier, and she’d taken to curling her fingers tightly around every hot drink she had, as if she needed to find warmth somewhere . 

It was Wednesday morning. The anniversary of Elaina’s death was on Monday. (This year, it fell on a public holiday, which was awful timing given that the last thing the twins needed was endless space in which to wallow.) 

Pike set the kettle back down after she’d finished pouring her mug of tea, then made her way around the breakfast bar and over to the dining table, taking a seat in the chair opposite Keyleth. 

Everyone was home except for the twins. The door had closed behind Vax a little before half past seven this morning, and Vex had left for work soon after; she’d volunteered to help set up an event, she’d told Keyleth and Pike when she passed them both in the hallway. Some kind of distraction, presumably, rather than lying awake in bed thinking. Or sitting at the breakfast bar, thinking.

“It’s still the same every year,” Pike said quietly. 

Keyleth hadn’t yet found a tactful way to ask. She gave Pike a wry smile. “Am I that easy to read?” 

“I know I’d be wondering if I were you. It’s been a long time. But … no.” Sadness tinged the edges of Pike’s expression. “So much is different. They’re different. And I think they do see this situation - their life with her, losing her - through adult eyes now, especially since they both began to find a little more connection to where Elaina came from. But Monday?” Pike gave Keyleth a forlorn smile. “It’ll still play out the same as it used to.” 

Keyleth nodded. Down the end of the table, Percy’s pen had slowed as he filled in the morning crossword, almost to a halt, although he didn’t look up. She tucked one leg up onto her chair beneath her, glancing over to Grog, who shrugged one worried shoulder as though that in itself said, It’s the end of November. “We do what we can,” he said simply, and Keyleth nodded again, even though it didn’t feel like enough. It never had.

She took a sip from her own mug of tea, and eventually Percy set his pen down on the table, pushing his glasses up onto his nose, still silent but visibly making himself a part of the conversation she hadn’t yet properly started. Scanlan seemed to be waiting, too, for something she hadn’t yet plucked out of the air.

Both of them understood grief. Scanlan was an oversharer by nature - it hadn’t taken long for her to hear the overview of his life, or about the familiar mother-shaped hole running through it. Percy was the exact opposite. The little she’d heard about his family had come from Vex, with a few other miniscule pieces scattered in by the others here and there, and Keyleth had thousands of unasked questions about the path his life had taken, for him to end up here. He seemed even more reluctant to talk about it as the twins sometimes were though, and understandably, given what she’d heard from Vex up at the lookout not that long ago, the others were far more tight-lipped where he was concerned.

She didn’t doubt that the details were just as heart wrenching as the rest of their stories. 

At the very least, the twins seemed to have found ways to dig their fingers into the memories they did have of Elaina, now they were here. It was hardly as if Syldor had talked about her with them, or given them any support whatsoever after whisking them away from the lives they’d adored in Byroden. He’d done nothing but belittle the skills she’d taught them, the foods they’d grown up eating, the love she’d instilled in them both for the world, and for others.

Keyleth paused, only now realising that an obvious question had never occurred to her. “They’ve never been back, have they?” she asked. “To Byroden?”

The whole table seemed to hesitate.  Scanlan and Percy exchanged a weighted look, as did Pike and Grog, and Pike’s teeth sank into her lower lip when she returned her gaze to Keyleth. Keyleth’s heart sank before the answer even came. “You didn’t hear this from us,” she said quietly, and Keyleth’s eyebrows pulled down into a frown.

“‘Course.”

“They did. In… I think third year, or around then? It was meant to be a weekend trip, but they couldn’t’ve stayed more than an hour or two before turning the car around and coming straight home, because they got back sometime a little before dawn on Sunday. And when they resurfaced later, they seemed…” she trailed off, and exchanged a glance with Grog.

“Hollowed out,” Scanlan supplied quietly, when Pike couldn’t find the words.

“For a while,” Grog agreed.

Keyleth’s gaze landed on Percy, who was watching her carefully. His expression was searching, as though wondering whether perhaps she had the spare pieces to a puzzle he’d never been able to complete. She waited, and whatever he seemed to be looking her for, he evidently found. 

Pike’s lips twisted into a sad imitation of a smile. “They both completely refused to talk about it, and have ever since.”

It wasn’t a surprise, exactly, but it twisted her chest up nonetheless. At least she had pieces of her mother, tucked away in the photo albums her father had carefully kept, and the personal touch that was undeniably her all over the interior of the house she’d grown up in. She had books that used to be her mother’s, with annotations in the margins, pressed flowers tucked between the pages, ones with her name on the front page beneath the dedication, For Keyleth and Happy Birthday, darling! and I hope you find the same magic between these pages as I did written in looping cursive. There were boxes of trinkets in the attic, recipes, clothes that her father had packed into a suitcase for her at the time, thinking she might like to have them when she was older. 

She knew Scanlan had similar - she’d seen photos, the odd family heirloom or two, and jewellery that used to be his mother’s, even despite the surprise her death had been - and Percy most likely was in the same boat, although she hadn’t seen the evidence. The twins, she knew, had none of it.

Apparently, there’d been nothing much to keep. That was the line she’d been given, the first time she’d thought to ask them about it, after seeing Vax trace a finger over one of those book dedications with almost excessive reverence, like it was a miracle that there were any traces of Vilya left behind at all. Although … Keyleth had wondered about it a few years ago, with a sinking feeling in her gut that she’d never expected to be able to confirm, as she and her dad had sorted through some of the big cardboard boxes in their attic. 

Elaina had known she was dying. She hadn’t been ill for long, but it hadn’t been a complete surprise - there’d been enough time for the messy custody agreements the twins only had vague memories of to be sorted out, at the very least. As a teenager, when the weeks involving losing Elaina and being moved to Syngorn had been explained to Keyleth (bitterly, achingly), she had taken everything the twins had told her at face value; it was their lives, after all, they were the ones who’d lived it. But looking back now, they’d been children, and she’d been a child, too. Some details didn’t add up. 

People didn’t leave nothing when they died. No matter how poor, or ill, people left footprints; notebooks and pressed flowers, old, well-worn clothing, a beloved, battered novel or two. She’d need to check with her dad, he and his firm would know the ins and outs of it. But Elaina wouldn’t’ve had the money for a solicitor, so…

Keyleth chewed on the inside of her lip, uncertain whether the pieces she was tying together were in any way cohesive, but unable to get rid of the nagging thought at the back of her mind. 

The shrewd look on Percy’s face was still there, and his eyes hadn’t left hers, although there was no way he’d followed her train of thought. Maybe he knew what the twins had found, when they’d attempted to chase a memory of home. (Even if he did, she doubted he’d share it with her. Someone with such heavy secrets of their own knew exactly the value of trust, and there was no chance of him breaking the twins’, not for anything in the world.)

“There’s no closure for them,” he said quietly, instead, his eyes fixed on hers. There was such staggering weight to the words that she was almost tempted to derail the conversation entirely to pick at that loose thread and see how much she could unravel. Another day, perhaps. For now, she leant back in her chair, a plan vaguely forming in her mind.

When Pike found her that evening to say she and Zahra had decided to whisk Vex away for a girls spa weekend, and extended an invite to her too, she declined. It was an excellent idea - Vex needed to get away from the city, and to have something good , something to do that wasn’t staying at home and only think about her mom or her brother and the way he was avoiding her. She couldn't go, however - the seed of a plan that had formed in her head that morning had grown steadily throughout the day, and a reluctant call to her father (breaking months of uncomfortable near-silence between them) had confirmed her suspicions. She didn’t dare mention it to the twins, so Vex being away for the weekend would help; she wouldn't be here to notice if Keyleth pulled everyone away from Whitestone to chase down the niggling feeling at the back of her mind. 

As for Vax… 

He’d been brushing off her offers for lunch all week, but as she’d left university that evening, two of the usual Wednesday food trucks had still been parked in the courtyard, just packing up to go. She’d picked up a burrito bowl from the taco truck and headed back inside, finding him exactly where she expected: hunched over his desk in an otherwise empty office, one knee pulled up to his chest, ink stains on his fingers and a notebook page covered in writing uneven enough that Syldor would have torn the page out and made him start all over again. 

She’d barely stayed for five minutes - it was easy to see he didn’t want company, not yet, and she hadn’t been helping his already visible guilt by standing in his office with her bag packed to go home to their friends, and his sister, who looked so much like their mother right now that he was struggling to look her in the eye. She’d come to bring him dinner, not to be a stark reminder of the fact that he was hiding in his chapter outline, so she’d set the container down on his desk, squeezed his shoulder, and asked him if he was making progress.

“Some,” Vax told her. The words were odd, like he’d allowed himself to drift off in the wind a little and hadn’t quite fully come back. “But it’s taking longer than expected. I’m gonna keep working on it over the weekend.”

That, unlike Pike’s spa getaway for Vex, was a truly awful idea. But Keyleth knew she had little hope of convincing him otherwise, and it did mean he’d most likely be out of the house from dawn ‘til dusk over the weekend too, hopefully busy and distracted enough that he wouldn’t notice his housemates’ absences either. Keyleth allowed her hand to linger on his shoulder for a little longer, peering curiously over at the notes he’d been making, until he reached up to rest his own on top and gave hers a light squeeze. 

She waited until Friday night, once Vex and Pike had gone to bed, to corner the others. The house felt quieter in the way it had all week, but the warm orange of the living room lamps still enveloped the house with a comfort not even the weight of this week could eat away at. Scanlan sat at one end of the dining table, tapping out a rhythm against his knee and scrawling notes down onto a score, whilst Percy typed away on his laptop, the blueprints he’d brought downstairs with him haphazardly folded on the chair beside him. Keyleth leant back so she was perched against the back of the couch, chewing on her lower lip as she waited for Grog to finish making a sandwich for himself and bring it over. 

The moment he set it down on the table and took a bite, she took a breath. “I need your help with something,” she said in a rush, and Percy’s sharp eyes snapped immediately to hers. “This weekend. Please.”

Scanlan’s tapping stilled, the rhythm faltering into quiet. “Is everything okay?” he asked, and despite the fact that Keyleth had rehearsed the conversation in her head, his concern for her caught her off guard. 

“Oh - Yeah, yeah. Yes. I mean, not… fine, but it’s -” Grog nodded encouragingly, and Keyleth pieced her thoughts back together. Her eyes darted to the stairs, despite knowing there was no chance of Vex overhearing their conversation from her room, and Vax wasn’t even here . “ I’m fine,” she promised, then quietened her voice even more. None of the boys looked away. “It’s for the twins. I have this… kinda insane idea. ‘Cause of, y’know. Monday.”

Percy’s expression remained unchanged. Perhaps he’d somehow seen what she was about to say coming, but Keyleth watched recognition flash through Scanlan and Grog’s. She took a breath, and the rest of her suggestion came out as a tumble of words trying to clamber over each other, rushed and a little pleading - taking the train to Emon, getting Grog’s old truck from his cousin, crashing the night at her dad’s place. (“Or we can stay with my cousin,” Grog interjected quietly, when she got to that part of the plan. Overwhelming relief washed over her, and she nodded. (Her phone call had broken the ice, sure, but she wasn’t quite ready to see him. Especially with what she was doing for Elaina’s anniversary, when the shape of Elaina’s death felt so similar to Vilya’s.)

As for the rest of her plan - there was no predicting or planning for it, really. She had ideas, rather than a full plan, and it wasn’t solid in her head yet, so she was asking them to trust her. (It meant a lot that she received three thoughtful, but undoubting nods. Even Percy, who hadn’t torn his careful, thoughtful eyes away from her the entire time she was speaking.)

Which was how she ended up on a train to Emon on Saturday morning, once Vex, Pike, and Zahra had left for their weekend away. Countryside whizzed by, the outskirts of Whitestone melting away into farmland, scattered with small hamlets, until those too faded into endless stretches of fields. From the seat next to the window, Scanlan stretched his legs out across Grog’s lap, and the train continued on, thudding over worn rails with a steady, familiar rhythm. Keyleth fished her wallet out of her pocket as the conductor made his way down the aisle, but Percy got there first, purchasing four tickets without giving anyone the chance to protest. He slid three across the table, and tucked one into the front pocket of his bag.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Keyleth frowned.

“Losing battle,” Scanlan murmured under his breath, but Percy ignored him and instead looked to her, his eyes sharp beneath his glasses. Under the train-carriage lights, his hair looked even more starkly pale than usual. 

“You were about to.”

“Yes but - I’m the one dragging you across the damn country to Emon on a Saturday morning.”

Percy held her gaze as the train continued onwards, passing through a small local station without stopping, then breaking back out into the fields, and suddenly, Keyleth was back at the top of a lookout in the dark, peering down over Whitestone’s lights as they twinkled in the night, Vex standing in the dark beside her. Her torch, on the sign - Sun Tree Enterprises - Frederick and Johanna de Rolo - and her voice, bluntly recounting their deaths. 

“I have a feeling that you’re up to something big,” Percy said quietly. Keyleth didn’t answer, but he seemed to take that as sufficient confirmation, and inclined his head a little. “You knew the twins better than anyone when they lived in Emon, and you taking us there now has to be with good reason. I’d like to do something to help.”

The earnestness caught Keyleth entirely off guard because it didn’t feel like something she was particularly meant to see. It was leaking out of him. When paired with the pieces she had, she found herself staggered by the depth, and unable to find a response in the face of his usually more guarded emotion. She floundered for another objection but found none, and Percy nodded, satisfied. 

Before long his gaze drifted off to the view outside the train window, leaving the conversation finished. Keyleth watched reflections of trees, shrubs, and the occasional electricity pylon continue to flicker across his glasses, as Scanlan reached for the Metro newspaper that had been left on the table and flicked it open to the puzzles section. Grog fished a pen out of his jacket pocket and passed it to him. 

“I’d move to Whitestone,” Percy murmured absentmindedly, a little while later, “if I wanted to get away.” 

Hills he’d be able to name for her if she asked crept closer, and Grog frowned, bewildered. “You already live in Whitestone.”

“That’s not what he means.” Scanlan was watching him now, too. Just as thoughtful. His pen hovering, a few millimeters above the paper. “Although you are a little biased, it has to be said. Not sure how much it counts coming from you, Mr. Whitestone.”

Percy rolled his eyes, the spell that had briefly fallen broken. Still, Keyleth followed his gaze to the countryside as it flickered on past, the endless greenery interspersed with small brooks and fields of animals, bridges carrying them over any larger streams they encountered. In the distance, a low covering of clouds could just about be seen hovering over the hilltops, sunlight filtering through. It was beautiful. Whitestone did seem to have it all - city and country, beautiful buildings and equally beautiful parks, picturesque street lamps lining the roads. It felt like a safe haven, in more ways than one. And for Percy, she now knew, it held such intense memories of family; the same kind of feeling they were heading off to Emon to chase down for the twins.

Emon, admittedly, had a different personality to Whitestone. It had no charming cobbled streets that stretched towards the town square, and the proud sense of history imbued into the stonework of Whitestone’s key buildings was second to none - but it was still home, in the way that familiar childhood streets always would be, the tall trees and grand, imposing buildings and the faint sea breeze that was all too easy to follow to pebbled shorelines and vast, hypnotising view that stretched all the way out to the horizon. She could have walked that city blindfolded if she wanted, which meant that part of her belonged there, regardless of the itch beneath her skin to get away. She wouldn’t ever move back, and she doubted Pike or Grog would want to either (especially considering that the twins would rather be anywhere else on the globe), but it had been a nice place to grow up. After all, she had Emon to thank for the best people she knew.

“Emon is lovely,” Keyleth felt the need to clarify. It had left an indelible mark on her, for the better. She didn’t have to doubt whether that was something Percy understood.

The far away look in his eye faded as he met her gaze. “Oh, I’m sure,” he agreed, and his smile, when it came, was genuine, and warm.

In Keyleth’s memories, the Vessar house stood impossibly tall, looming above anyone who dared come through the wrought iron gate and make their way down the perfectly well-kept driveway. It had always filled her with awe, but the kind of awe that’d made her want to turn and run, rather than step closer. It had a hostile sense of grandeur to it - a filthy rich kind of essence that had made her feel incredibly out of place every time she set foot on the property, regardless of whether Syldor was at home or working.

Standing in front of it now, it was, admittedly, a lovely house. The entrance sat back from the road, far enough to have space for several obnoxiously new and shiny cars out the front, and the paintwork was pristine. The intricate, detailed topiary still sat where it had the last time she was here, and the enormous windows were polished so highly that they glistened. But it felt smaller than it used to. Perhaps she was just bigger, and had seen more of the world, or perhaps the anger coursing through her veins as she gazed down the driveway and the nerves in her stomach had combined to cancel out any of the naïve awe that used to reside within her. But for whatever reason, that house felt less impressive than it ever had before. She lingered out of apprehension, not out of fear.

Percy hovered just behind her elbow.

He’d worked it out for himself, at some point between leaving Whitestone and arriving here, and had cornered her this morning as they’d eaten an early breakfast at Grog’s cousin’s place. She’d been in the kitchen, four instant coffees half made, and he’d leant back against the narrow countertop with a calculating look in his eyes as she stirred them. The spoon she was using clinked against the ceramic. 

“We’re going to see their father,” he said quietly, “aren’t we?”

Keyleth’s jaw had clenched. Of all of them, Percy was the one whose reaction was a potential wildcard. She didn’t know him well enough to know whether it’d be incredulity or judgement that would be thrown her way, or whether he’d simply turn around and refuse to be a part of this at all once he’d confirmed what was going on. Vex meant the absolute world to him, Vax too, in a way that felt undoubtedly earned. His reluctance was what she was most afraid of. Scanlan and Grog’s uncertainty, if they were to have any, she would most likely be able to wave away. She’d known Grog long enough that she could convince him, and Scanlan she had a feeling she could either persuade, or do without. But Percy seemed to understand the twins’ family dynamics like no one else she knew, plus - from what Vex had told her - he knew the sharp jerk of that sudden, unanticipated loss, followed by unexpectedly being uprooted in the aftermath. Even without that clarity from Vex, the way he’d quietly asked about her father and extended family in the time since that disaster of a reunion dinner she’d come home in tears from would have been enough, on its own, to indicate that he knew complexity like the back of his hand, and wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

She’d nodded in response to his question, not looking away, and Percy had remained silent for long enough that her pulse skyrocketed. But eventually, he’d nodded back. 

His hair hadn’t been styled - it’d still been soft in the early morning pre-work kind of way she saw snippets of at home from time to time, and it made him look much younger than usual. Behind his glasses, she’d found only trust in his eyes. “Okay,” he said quietly, the trust finding its way into his voice too and making her chest tighten with emotions she couldn't put a name to. He took one of the coffees from her and gave it a second stir, then nodded again. “Let's go sooner rather than later, then.”

He didn’t say anything now, as she lingered with her hand on the front gate of the house that’d haunted so many of her teenage years, but his certainty was a steady reassurance.

Scanlan quietly whistled under his breath. “Oh, they meant fancy fancy.”

“This is nothing,” Percy said dismissively, and for some reason, Keyleth found herself smiling. She pushed the gate open and set off towards the door.

Which, naturally, was swung open by a maid mere moments after she tapped with the knocker. 

“They have staff? ” Scanlan hissed under his breath, and Keyleth waited until they’d been led through the vast foyer and into the reception room before she allowed herself to be just as surprised as he clearly was. Last she had been here, Syldor had employed gardeners for the extensive, dull grounds out back, and apparently there had been a housekeeper who was only in while the twins were at school, keeping it clean, doing all the cooking, laundry, and upkeep on the lonely mansion of a house. But the twins had never once met her. Most of the time, the big empty house had been a void, no one haunting the sleek halls except for the twins and the father who wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. 

“Didn’t used to,” she murmured, glancing around the room.

It was still, at its core, the same as she remembered. Not that she’d spent much time in here  - the twins had hated this room, with its almost clinical furniture placement and display-room feel, existing for the sake of Syldor’s business colleagues and guests he wanted to impress rather than for living . The leather sofas were rigid, stiff and high-backed, dark burgundy and ridiculously uncomfortable, so they’d always opted to hang out in the twins’ bedrooms instead, even with the whole house to choose from. 

The sleek decor was still as it had been six years ago, although personal touches had since been added - a vase of dried flowers on the stand by the door, softer looking cushions, books on the bookshelves that looked as if maybe once in a while, they were actually removed and flicked through. 

“This is fuckin’ weird,” Grog muttered, his eyes drifting around the room too, clearly also comparing then to now .

Thankfully (or not), their musing was interrupted by footsteps heading towards the door.

Syldor looked exactly as he used to. Age hadn’t softened him; his edges, if anything, were sharper, and his eyes cooler. His smile didn’t come close to reaching his eyes, and it was filled with the rich, false hospitality she’d imagine he extended to all of his unwanted guests. The only satisfaction Keyleth was afforded was when he looked - properly looked - at who was standing in front of him, and for a second, his shock was too intense to be masked. 

It faded far too quickly, replaced by an eerily calm, controlled smile. His back straightened ever so slightly, as if she was a child who might be swayed by how he presented himself, rather than someone with far more important priorities. He oozed influence. Possibly even worse than he had before. Out of the corner of her eye, Keyleth could see Percy clocking it, unsurprised but rubbed the wrong way by it all. By the sound of it he himself had spent plenty of time around people like this, who assumed they were at the top of the pecking order, and that their power and privilege naturally gave them the control. His own spine had straightened too, and his arms were tucked carefully behind his back, right hand gripping his left wrist.

“Keyleth, my dear,” Syldor said smoothly, the instant he’d regained his composure. He glanced dismissively at the others, a flicker of recognition crossing his expression at Grog’s presence, but little attention paid to the other two.  “And… friends. To what do I owe the pleasure? Can I get you some tea, some coffee?”

Keyleth’s gaze flicked over to the maid in the corner, meekly waiting, and her resolve hardened. “No.”

“No thank you .” That awful, slimy arrogance in Syldor’s smile amplified, and his eyebrow raised. “I would’ve thought your father taught you better manners.”

Fabric rustled faintly from behind her as either Grog or Scanlan (or both) shifted their positions. The seventeen year old in Keyleth (the part of her who best remembered this space and the man who felt so at home in its unwelcome grandeur) wanted to flush, wanted to snap something fiery back at him in defense of her father. Twenty-four year old Keyleth had spent six years in Zephrah, had learned just how biting civility could be, had learned how to use propriety and politeness as a weapon, had learned the diplomacy of wealth and the light-footedness of confidence. She narrowed her eyes, not straying her gaze from Syldor’s. “Actually, he taught me to reserve my manners for people who had earned my respect.” 

Syldor’s nostrils flared. From Scanlan came a choked laugh, poorly disguised as a cough, and Syldor’s smile thinned further, gaze more piercing by the second. Keyleth’s blood still simmered beneath her skin, but she tamped it down - she wasn’t here to antagonise, and it most likely wouldn’t help. (That said, it wouldn’t exactly hinder either. If Syldor wanted to push their buttons, that was his problem.)

“You’re in Whitestone now, aren’t you Keyleth?” Syldor asked calmly, voice low. It was the sharpness of his gaze, beyond anything else, that caused the connotations to catch up with her, and Keyleth’s stomach flipped. For a second, panic erupted in her chest, a low-lying whisper of did you think this through? bouncing off the walls of her mind, amplified when Syldor’s gaze flicked over to Grog and that sickeningly faux-diplomatic smile grew. “And you - you went to college with my children.”

Grog folded his arms in front of his chest and remained silent. “Glad to know you’ve all reconnected,” Syldor added smoothly.

Keyleth’s teeth sank into her tongue, that spike of panic exacerbated by a sudden, unexpected memory from one night towards the end when she’d been staying over, of the twins watching from the hallway window in relief as Syldor’s car pulled out of the driveway, taking him away to the airport for a weekend business trip to the Lucidian Coast. Neither of them would ever forgive her if she opened the door that led him back into their lives; he was terrifying, even now, as she stood in front of him as an adult. He sent a chill through her bones that made her want to shrink into the floorboards, the same way she always had in his presence as a child. Light caught the shadow of his nose and highlighted the harsh cut of his jaw.

Percy shifted ever so slightly beside her, his hand brushing reassuringly against her wrist. It was there for less than a second, but his point came across, and she swallowed. 

She had thought the details through. Before she’d even considered bringing it up to the boys. 

She wasn’t a child - and he was just a man. A man who’d barely ever been a father to her friends, and now that she looked at him, didn’t even look as much like them as she’d remembered. Their warm olive skin and hazel eyes, the slope of their jaws, the curve of their ears - it was all Elaina. And besides, Syldor hadn’t cared enough to take an interest in their lives when they were right in front of him, so he certainly wasn’t about to start now. Vex’s job was high profile enough that she could be found if he looked, and Vax’s research was online, tied to Whitestone University’s webpages and socials. They weren’t hiding , not like they had been at eighteen. If anything, they were vocal. Loud . Unstoppable.

The laugh that escaped her was humourless, and cold. Just like her presence, it seemed to catch Syldor on the back foot, and she allowed her lips to curl up into a smile, straightening her spine. “You can drop that act, there’s no need for it.”

“And what act would that be?”

“You threatening to use me - or us - to find the twins.” In her pockets, Keyleth’s hands shook but she curled them into fists and held Syldor’s gaze resolutely. “They haven’t disappeared off the planet. You could look them up for yourself, if you really wanted - in fact, I’d be surprised if you haven’t already. But it doesn’t matter. You’re never going to track them down.”

“And why is that?” Syldor scoffed, but he wavered, just for a second. Long enough to confirm that she’d found it: the truth. Pride bloomed through Keyleth’s chest on the twins’ behalf, and her smile grew. 

“You’re afraid of them.” 

Everything they were, and had become without an ounce of help from him. The lives they’d built, the joy they’d created, the way they had absolutely no need for a father who would put them on display but still scorn them, who’d claim their successes as his own but never pay attention to who they were , and the events that had made them so. She took a step forward, not giving him the chance to dispute her but charging onwards. “They’re beyond your control. They don’t need you at all - they have everything they could want and more, and they’ve made something of themselves all on their own. They’re known, and loved, and you have almost nothing you can possibly hang over their heads, not anymore.” 

What else did Syldor care about? She aimed her knife at his jugular, to hit where it would hurt most. 

“They’re revered and respected by the people around them. Some of whom have just as much - if not more - power and influence than you.”

Syldor scoffed again but felt thinner this time, more faltering, his disbelief paper-thin. “Somehow, Keyleth, I doubt my children have managed that. They lack the ability to make connections, certainly any more powerful than the ones they left behind with me.”

Percy hadn’t said a word since Syldor had entered the room, but at that, his laugh was ice cold. Every inch of wealth and influence he possessed poured into it, and Keyleth watched as Syldor’s gaze left her completely, instead switching to this stranger she’d brought into his home, who’d until now been a silent shadow at her side.  

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Percy said crisply, cutting through the air like a knife. His spine remained ramrod straight, a perfect picture of poise, and Keyleth only had half a second to glimpse the balled-up fists behind his back before he let his hands drop to his sides, then in a way that oozed a kind of sleek confidence she’d never seen from him, slid them casually into his pockets.

Syldor looked like he was fighting a childish eyeroll. “And who might you be?” he asked, clearly aiming for dismissive, but his veneer was far too thin. The corner of Keyleth’s lips twitched, and Percy smirked.

“Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo the third. I’m sure you’ve heard of my family.”

Scanlan coughed, poorly disguising a reaction, and Grog shifted to his other foot, the battle won the moment the words were left to hang in the air. Percy looked to her for a brief moment, and she tilted her chin down in an almost imperceptible nod. The set had been dressed, the audience was ready - the stage was his. 

“De Rolo?”

“Yes, those Whitestone de Rolos,” Percy said insufferably. “I’m now the eldest, you see. I don’t know whether I’ll take over the company, but you know, I’ll see where life takes me.”

Syldor visibly baulked, and Percy took a composed step closer. The perfectly furnished, luxurious living room did nothing to soften the sharp edges of his words, or the threat lurking just beneath them. “I also happen to be in love with your daughter,” he said calmly, “if that’s any indication of just how far I’d go to keep you away from her.”

Fuck . 

Fuck.

She, Grog, and Scanlan did an incredibly good job of not reacting, in her opinion. She was impressed with them all. Percy said it like public information - like it was a fact of nature, like he’d said those words a thousand times before, like there was a certainty and a forever to Vex that would mean she was safe from her father’s reach for the rest of time, protected by the influence he offered. In this moment, he was every inch the person he was raised to be, and he was pulling Vex to those heights alongside him. 

They’d won. She could see it all over Syldor’s expression, and in the poorly masked fury behind his eyes. Keyleth demurely turned her attention back to him, and his silence spoke volumes. 

When he finally did speak, fury and humiliation battled in his voice. It was only the adrenaline and nerves that prevented her from breaking out into a grin. “What do you want?” Syldor asked, low and resigned.

Percy looked back to her, and Keyleth nodded, satisfied. “Two things,” she said calmly. “One, you’re going to let us take everything the twins had to leave behind, anything that didn’t fit in their bags.”

Syldor glowered at her. It had no effect beyond causing pride to bubble up in Keyleth’s chest, and a giddy urge to pump a fist in the air. “Assuming I still have it,” he said coolly, but Keyleth ignored him.

“Second,” she continued, pulse picking up again at the risk, but confident nonetheless. “You’re going to give us everything you kept hidden away from them that belonged to their mother.”

Scanlan’s intake of breath was audible from behind her and she felt Grog and Percy’s eyes snap to her too, burning through her skull. She ignored them, focusing all of her attention on the man in front of her. She was right. She knew she was right, and it was confirmed the moment his eyes flickered. “Why would I have Elaina’s belongings?”

“Because there was no one else they could’ve gone to. Legally, everything she owned belongs to the twins, and there was no other family to take it. She couldn't afford a solicitor, the twins were too young - the only other adult in the picture was the person who took in her children. They’ve both told me she didn’t leave anything, that there was nothing of hers worth keeping, but those aren’t their words - they’re yours, drilled into them, parrotted because they were too young to question it. But I know you kept things, for the same reason you kept everything the twins left behind - because they’re the only things in the whole world that you still have to hang over their heads.”

The fury was turning from a simmer to a boil, and Syldor’s composure had faltered. He scowled at her. “If that’s the case, why would I ever give them to you?”

“Because legally, they’re not yours to keep. Elaina didn’t leave them to you. And now the twins aren’t minors anymore, you can’t hold onto them - there isn’t a court of law in the country that wouldn’t consider the intentional withholding of inherited possessions at least criminally adjacent - and you have a lot to lose. Sir .”

It was mildly entertaining to watch Syldor file through the catalogue of information on her that he had tucked right at the very back of his mind, until he found it, and with it, information about her father. A revered, successful lawyer. He looked murderous, and it was about fucking time. Keyleth mirrored Percy’s earlier stance by tucking her hands neatly behind her back, and only once they were out of view did she curl her fingers into a fist, nails digging into her palm, the muscles of her arm taut with a decade worth of tension that still continued to grow. Grog took a few steps forward, his eyes fixed somewhat threateningly on Syldor, and Syldor jerked his head towards his maid. “Vax’ildan and Vex’ahlia’s things are in their bedrooms, exactly where they left them. Elaina’s are locked in the attic - I'll have Patricia unlock it for you.” 

He pulled a set of keys off his belt and removed one, passing it over to the maid - Patricia - who still stood in the corner of the room, then gave them all one final glare as he paused in the doorway. “Then get out ,” he snapped, and swept away.

The door clicked shut behind him, and silence hung in the air.

Until Scanlan laughed, Grog snorted, and Percy exhaled in disbelief. 

“What the fuck , Keyleth,” Scanlan breathed, and she allowed her own exhale to join the mix, mingling with the others. She sagged and sank down against the arm of one of the uncomfortable couches beside her, but Grog instantly grabbed her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, looking at her with pride.

“I’ve never been more afraid of you,” he said with a low whistle. 

“Or more impressed,” Percy added, staring at her, sounding mildly shell-shocked.

“Thanks for the assist,” said Keyleth with a shaky chuckle. 

Percy shook his head dismissively, as if he wasn’t the one who’d hammered the final nail into the coffin with his absolute mouthful of a full name and the sense of nobility that’d radiated from him when he chose for it to. And a confession that, try as any of them might, would be impossible to ignore.

She glanced over to the corner just in time to see Patricia’s lips twitch, before she caught Keyleth’s eye and tampered down her smile, a demure, apolitical front returning. “Shall we?” she asked, and Keyleth straightened back up. There was no need to be here any longer than they needed to; she’d much rather get home to the twins, and it was a long drive.

“Lead the way.”

She’d sort of expected the rooms to have been cleaned out. Even with what Syldor had told her, she’d thought they would've at least been dusted and tidied, that the twins' possessions would’ve been neatly stacked out of the way or tossed haphazardly into boxes at the side of the room. She’d come for Elaina’s belongings primarily, which were now neatly stacked in the back of Grog’s truck (with him standing guard of them whilst she, Percy, and Scanlan headed back up to the twins' rooms), so anything else was a bonus. If anything, Syldor ordering for their things to be stripped from the rooms would’ve made their job easier, or at least quicker. But no - the instant the door to Vex’s bedroom swung open, Keyleth found a freeze-frame in front of her eyes. 

It was exactly as she assumed Vex had left it. Things had been taken - some of them things that Keyleth recognized were in Vex’s room in Whitestone now - and there were gaps on the shelves, empty hooks on the wall, space on her dresser where her jewellery stand and makeup used to sit. Even so, the furniture hadn’t been shifted an inch. A few pairs of shoes poked out from beneath Vex’s bed, and a pile of neatly folded clothes sat above them on top of the bed, presumably the laundry that had still been in the wash when the twins had disappeared, now cleaned and waiting.

“Oh,” Percy said quietly, and Keyleth’s eyes followed his movements as he made his way across the room, his fingers landing on the thick, patchwork quilt that still lay on top of Vex’s bedcovers. His fingers traced the seams between the small, painstakingly sewn together swatches of fabric, before he looked back over to Keyleth. She instantly nodded, moving over to the other side of the mattress to help fold it. She hadn’t noticed the quilt’s absence in their house in Whitestone - another thing she’d forgotten about, in the space that separated now from then - but the quilt had been one of the twins’ most beloved possessions. Lovingly stitched by Elaina for the bed they both shared as small kids, in a traditional style her own mother had taught her as a child, and packed away to bring to Syngorn when they moved. Once here, it had been spread out across Vex’s bed at Vax’s insistence, and had been there for as long as she’d known the two of them; the only piece of the culture Syldor had stripped from them that Vex allowed herself to cherish. It was thick and well made, far too heavy to cart across the country along with everything else they wanted to keep, but it must’ve been devastating to leave behind.

“This’ll mean the world to her,” Percy said quietly, as they tucked it into the bottom of one of the large bags Grog’s cousin had lent them that morning. 

(I’m in love with your daughter , he’d told Syldor, and she could see it in every millimetre of his expression.)

The rest of it was easy - a few books, a few keepsakes, notebooks, clothes Keyleth thought Vex would be happy to have returned to her. Ridiculous photobooth strips of her, the twins, Grog, and Pike in various combinations, caught mid-laugh. It didn’t take them more than ten minutes to clear the room - there wasn’t any need to sort things, and between her and Percy, they had a fairly good idea what Vex would want, and what she’d rather leave behind.

“Keyleth?” Scanlan asked, one bag now semi-full by the door. They should head to Vax’s room, then head home now they’d gotten what they came for, but… she hovered, her fingers lingering above a photo that’d been set down flat on Vex’s bedside table, face-down, crusted blu-tac still on each corner. The bottom right edge had slightly curled as if the photo had been freshly peeled off the wall to bring it when Vex left, but she’d then thought better of it. Keyleth’s eyes stung and she blinked, looking down at the photograph. 

It’d been taken on Pike’s film camera, and she remembered the day so clearly. It’d been October of senior year, and she’d borrowed her dad’s car to drive Pike and Vex out of town, after a week of back and forth argument between the twins over something petty and ridiculous. Vax had been an ass about something now unmemorable and Grog had dragged him off to the gym, while the girls spent the whole day out in the woods, hiking between tall trees, picking the last of the summer berries and tossing them into each other’s mouths, swimming in their underwear in crystal clear, icy forest pools. Keyleth ran her thumb over the curled corner to smooth it down, but it stubbornly curled back up. The sun glistened over the water behind them. They’d been absolutely freezing , shivering as they shared the one emergency towel that’d been in Korrin’s trunk, icy water dripping from their hair, but Pike had managed to catch the two of them mid-laugh in the photograph, her head tipped back whilst Vex, grinning, attempted to fix her hair. It was impossible to tell that Vex had spent the morning before in tears, because the delight in her eyes was all-consuming. Neither of them had noticed the camera at all. 

“Bring it,” Percy said quietly, having materialised over her shoulder, but Keyleth didn’t trust her voice to reply. She didn’t know which stung more - the idea that Vex had purposefully left the photo behind because of her anger towards Keyleth for the way she’d left, or the idea that it’d simply been forgotten in the rush of leaving. “She’ll want it back,” Percy added, so Keyleth picked it up with shaky fingers and passed it over to him. He picked the blu-tac off the back and tucked it inside the front cover of a book as if it was sacred, then tilted his head towards the door.

Right. 

Vax’s room.

Scanlan’s hand lightly brushed her elbow as they stepped outside the door and closed it, shutting what was left of the past away.

She got almost thirty seconds to pull herself together, before it all crashed down for a second time.

The thing about habitat conservation was that it focused, primarily, on time. To most people it was a study of nature and animals and how to ensure ecological populations thrived, and that was true to an extent. But at the heart of it all was the ever-present tick of the clock, the forward momentum of the universe, the steady increase in entropy as years passed by. She spent every day of her life following trajectories and mapping changes, one eye on the past and one on the future, so she ought to have seen this moment coming. And yet, somehow, she just… hadn’t.

When she pushed Vax’s door open, her breath hitched in her lungs.

Her planning had been incomplete - it had been logistics and logic, so much thought poured into Elaina and the twins that it simply hadn't occurred to her that her steps would inevitably lead here: to the view she’d had six years ago, as she took one final look goodbye.

The room looked almost exactly as she remembered it. It was early enough in the morning that the light fell as it had the last time she was here - slicing through the window and across the bed, casting shadows in the creases where rumpled sheets hadn’t been straightened and across the pillows tucked beneath. Dust swirled, disturbed by their entry and now caught in the sun too, small particles flickering as they drifted back towards the carpet.

Vax had taken much less than Vex had. A few books were missing, photos he’d had on his bedside table, little pieces here and there. If she opened the wardrobe she was sure she’d find gaps, but on the whole the room looked almost as if someone could still live in it, complete with dusty cup trophies on his bookshelf and sketches and photos still tacked onto the walls. Keyleth’s chest ached at the thought of him leaving everything except what he treasured most, his bag space inevitably sacrificed for the comforts Vex couldn’t fit into her own. The plan back then had been to catch a night train across the country a few days after she’d left, and she still had preliminary lists somewhere, in her own childhood bedroom, from when Vax had first sat down to work out exactly what they’d need, and how much they’d be able to carry.

Like in Vex’s room, a pile of laundry sat neatly on the edge of the bed. There was a sweater she remembered - black and well worn - and a few T-shirts he’d most likely long forgotten. A pair of faded grey jeans that probably wouldn’t still fit, the top fold bleached by the sun. And then on top of that -

Keyleth’s stomach dropped, the memory of her fingers brushing against her own waist as she’d pulled the now neatly-folded green t-shirt over her head flooding to the forefront of her mind, with crystal clarity. Her own inhale, the curve of her smile, Vax’s breath temporarily sucked from his lungs. The way it had then shakily filled the space between them, his eyes wide and awed, palm warm as it came to rest in the divot of her hip. Sparks shooting through her skin. 

She’d tossed it across the room unthinkingly, and had pulled his on the next morning, but… it’d clearly ended up in his laundry, almost as if she might come back for it. Keyleth’s feet moved on autopilot towards the pile, her fingers catching on the soft fabric, her stomach somersaulting. She should've seen it coming.

This was a secret Vax had kept safe for years , and she’d led their friends directly to it in the form of this: a simple loose green t-shirt, too small to be Vax’s, the wrong colour to belong to Vex.

“Kiki,” Scanlan said from behind her, with an uncharacteristic softness that had panic seizing her chest. She smoothed her face and turned, but found nothing at all suggestive in his expression. Which… made sense, actually, because there was no reason for the two of them to jump to conclusions - she’d stayed over here several times when Syldor had been out of town, and the twins had stayed at hers. These guys knew that. They knew she’d stayed the night before leaving for Emon, too, to spend as much time as she had with a friend. Who’d been planning on driving her to the airport early in the morning. Her t-shirt in his laundry pile didn’t indicate anything except her presence, and that was already a given. 

“Let's just get his stuff and get out,” she said in a rush, and the two of them nodded easily. She swallowed down the curl in her stomach and tamped down the pounding in her chest, then got to work.

It didn’t take long to clear Vax’s room either, given how beautiful of a life he’d built for himself in Whitestone, and how little of him there really was within these walls. She paused in the doorway on her way out, glancing around for what was almost definitely the last time, and Percy tapped her on the shoulder, then let her know he and Scanlan would take the bags down to Grog’s truck whilst she did a final sweep to check for anything they’d missed. Keyleth curled her fingers around the doorknob, eyes skimming the dresser, the wardrobe, the bed she remembered waking up in the last time she was here, Vax’s bare arm draped warmly over her waist.

It wasn't until she caught sight of the textbooks on the dresser that she remembered the study, and immediately, she didn’t know how she’d forgotten it. She’d spent so much time there. Other than their bedrooms, it was the only room in the house that had ever felt as if it belonged to the twins, rather than Syldor (despite his intentions for it). Initially another unused bedroom, Syldor had had it converted, removing the guest bed and adding two large, intricately carved wooden desks. There’d been a sofa, too, and ornate bookshelves had lined the walls, which Syldor had taken the effort to have filled with all sorts of texts he thought were befitting for two children whose education had so far, in his opinion, been woefully insufficient.

The twins had had a love-hate relationship with the room. For their first few years in Syngorn, they’d sat at those desks for hours every day after school, to improve their penmanship to an ‘acceptable standard’ and ‘keep their grades appropriate for children bearing the Vessar family name,’ or whatever other bullshit Syldor used to spout. He scorned their mother at every turn. She’d taught them plenty - history and geography of different areas of the world, language Syldor refused to hear a word of, poetry from an old, treasured book that had been passed down to her by their grandmother. Not that Syldor chose to see that. He’d dismissed the things they knew because they weren’t the correct things to know, his disdain for Elaina’s - and therefore, their - heritage made clear. This room, the way they’d first described it to Keyleth, was a further extension of that. It was loathed. Syldor’s piercing eyes had coldly observed everything within those walls, keeping them in check.

At some point, though she didn’t remember when exactly, that had stopped. The twins were expected to know the rules, and the consequences for breaking them, therefore the watchful eye of Syldor dissipated so long as they were quietly within the room and the door was closed, giving the impression of hard-working students. Keyleth had spent time in there with them both, working with Vex on assignments whilst Vax sketched, gangly legs stretched across the couch, dappled sunlight flickering through the vast window. It had become a space to read, to be, a place the twins knew they would for the most part be left alone. Desk drawers had been emptied out, false bottoms added in case Syldor came looking, and keepsakes tucked beneath them, covered up by piles of books and study notes. They would’ve taken everything from there when they left, surely, but with the last moments Keyleth had in this house before leaving, she hurried down the hallway to check.

The study doorway opened easily when she pushed it, but she pulled up short at the sight that greeted her. 

The desks were gone. All evidence of what this room had once been had been stripped away; instead, she was hit with a burst of colour, the sunlight that had once fallen across study notes now casting rainbows across the carpet because on the way into the room, it passed through the bright suncatcher stickers that covered the window. A plush blue rug covered with fluffy clouds stretched across the carpet, and the bookshelves now held well-loved fairytales and piles of toys, baskets with beads and ribbons and small cups and saucers. The couch had been pushed up against the wall beneath the window, and a small table had a half-finished jigsaw laid out across it, the rest of the pieces sitting in the upside-down lid of the box beside it.

Keyleth blinked.

It felt like stepping out of one world and into another, and she stood just beyond the doorway, the plans she’d come in here with dissipating like mist on a summer's breeze. This - what?

“What are you doing?” 

It was more of a demand than a question, the small voice holding all of the crisp, dignified articulation that Vex had had when Keyleth first met her. She whirled around, only to come face to face with Devana, her hand smoothing down the hair of a small girl standing slightly in front of her.

Devana looked older than Keyleth remembered, but not much. She hadn’t known her well - Devana and Syldor had only married in the twins’ senior year of high school, and Devana had been an unknown factor to them; too close to Syldor for them to accept any relationship she tried to build, too wealthy and well-bred to be anything but a contrast to their mother, and a highlight for Syldor’s disdain of her, and them. But she’d always been beautiful, and elegant, and the years had done nothing to change that - her poise shone through now, and despite her clear shock, she didn’t sound displeased. “Keyleth? Is that you?”

Keyleth’s mouth opened, then closed again. 

Devana had never been unkind, and she’d never seemed to have a hint of Syldor’s cruelty within her, but she’d still married the man. When mapping out this trip in her head, the possibility of bumping into her had been an option Keyleth considered - and she had thought about how the years might have changed her. All likelihood was that she’d be harsher; years of Syldor, of this life, could have twisted her into someone who more closely resembled him in temperament and who Keyleth would have to steel herself to speak to. She hadn’t accounted for this though - for the wide brown eyes looking up at her from Devana’s waist-height, the same shade of hazel she knew all too well. A soft purple dress with delicate straps and embroidered butterflies floating up across the bodice from the waistline, long braids of dark hair hanging down to the girl’s mid-chest, a tangle of suspicion and curiosity in her expression. 

Keyleth’s eyes darted back up from the girl to Devana and she swallowed. “Hi Devana.” 

The girl barely gave them a moment. She tugged on the hem of Devana’s shirt insistently, as if sensing the awkwardness in the air and not knowing what to do with it. “Who is she, Mommy?” she asked, and Keyleth steeled herself.

She needn’t have - Devana’s expression softened at the edges, and although Keyleth could see her wariness and uncertainty battling, when she smiled at her, it was warm.

“She's a friend of Vex and Vax, darling,” Devana said gently. Her hand smoothed over the girl’s hair for a second time, just as small eyes lit up.

“You know the twins?!”

The girl turned excitedly from Devana, her hesitance entirely forgotten. 

Syldor was an adult, one who viewed Keyleth the same way he viewed dirt on his shoe. He was upright and proud, and there was no chance in a million years that he’d answer all of the questions Keyleth wanted the answers to. This girl, on the other hand, talked . “Daddy didn’t say you were coming!” she said in a rush, illuminated by sheer delight. She pushed past Keyleth into the room they hovered in the doorway of, and then whirled around, words falling from her lips in an excited rush. “I would have drawn a picture for them! Or made bracelets, or - what are they like? Are they so cool? Did you know my sofa is the one Vex and Vax used to have in the study?”

“Velora, sweetheart,” Devana interrupted, as Keyleth tried and failed to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. Her heart pounded in her chest. This wasn’t what she’d come here for, and it wasn’t something she’d expected to find. The others hadn’t mentioned it, so assumedly, they hadn’t heard - although, Keyleth didn’t know how old this girl, Velora, was, didn’t know if somewhere along the way, this information had found its way to the twins and they’d pushed it down, into the box neatly labelled Syldor that was rarely opened. 

No - surely not. It would’ve come up. 

Keyleth swallowed for a third time and offered Velora a smile, nausea and a bubbling, building anger swirling in the pit of her stomach. She desperately hoped it couldn’t be seen by the wide-eyed child staring up at her. 

“You have to be at Daniella’s in half an hour,” Devana reminded Velora, calm, but firm. She glanced in Keyleth’s direction, then back to Velora, who was now at least paying attention to her mother, rather than the stranger who had stumbled her way into her playroom. “And you need to eat and tidy the playroom before then. I think Keyleth is busy.”

Velora groaned, but turned, dragging her feet across the carpet, her excitement stolen for the time being. Devana didn’t bat an eyelid to it. Instead, her hand lightly brushed against Keyleth’s elbow, and she seized the moment of distraction to nod towards the doorway, guiding Keyleth out into the hallway. Keyleth exhaled through her teeth.

She didn’t give Devana the chance to speak. 

She couldn’t. Despite having just about worked out how to step with Devana before leaving for university, treading a tightrope of someone else’s design, she found herself unable to draw on it now. She waited until they were just out of earshot of the now-closed ex-study doorway (standing instead back in front of Vax’s door, still ajar), then turned, positioning herself in front of Devana and taking a breath.

“I’m sure you remember, but maybe you don’t,” she started, voice low but sharp with a hurt that she could feel building in her periphery, poised to take the twins out at the knees. “I was in Zephrah for university. I didn’t go with the twins - which meant I didn’t see or talk to them for around five years, and I only just reconnected with them in August.”

She’d just come here for Elaina’s possessions. All she’d wanted for them was that - uncomplicated, and deserved, the closing of a door. This was… decidedly not that. “It’s not like they’re singing praises of the happy memories they have in this house with you and Syldor, so I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt here and hope that maybe, maybe , this is something they know about, but just haven’t told me. There’s a chance - slim, and improbable - that they’ve just had no reason to bring it up. That they know, and it’s … whatever. Neither of them know I’m here right now and if they did, maybe they would’ve given me a heads up, I just didn’t give them that opportunity. I don’t know. I - I don’t know. So I’m just going to ask you instead.” She paused, but only for a split second, because regret and guilt had already formed in Devana’s eyes and she needed to get the question out before she lost her nerve. She took a breath. “Do the twins know they have a sister?”

The guilt deepened, instantly, and Devana’s sigh confirmed all of Keyleth’s suspicions. “We didn’t get a chance to tell them before they left,” she admitted, and Keyleth curled her fingers into her elbows, the excitement in Velora’s eyes the moment Vex and Vax’s names had been mentioned instantly brought to mind. 

“How old is she?” she asked thickly.

“Five and a half,” Devana told her. Keyleth wished, instantly, that she was worse at Math, but the calculations slotted themselves together for her. Devana hesitated. “Closer to three quarters,” she amended, just to make it worse . 

She must have been what, three, four months pregnant the last time Keyleth had seen her? The last time the twins had seen her?

Keyleth’s skin itched with anger, and devastation, too. She’d asked to draw them pictures . She’d wanted to know everything - Keyleth was certain that if she’d acquiesced, Velora would have tugged her onto the couch and sat beside her and begged for stories, hanging onto her every word with baited breath and those big, wide, awed eyes. She clearly knew so much about them, and thought they were wonderful, and it made sense - their existence couldn’t be hidden from her, because their footprint lingered in this house, in the obnoxious family portrait of the two of them and Syldor that still had hung over the stairs, the rooms that had never been touched, and more - but it didn’t seem fair. It didn’t seem fair for them not to know about her, but it didn’t seem fair that she knew them , either, not when they hadn’t been the ones to decide how she knew them or what it was she got to know.

It was going to throw them for a complete loop. 

Keyleth laughed, dryly, feeling on the verge of hysteria. When she’d stepped out onto the sunlit drive six years ago and quietly closed the front door behind her, she’d never thought she’d set foot in this house again. And now she was… fuck . “Just when I thought there couldn’t possibly be more ways for Syldor to fuck them up,” she said bitterly, and Devana’s eyebrow raised incrementally at her tone, but the guilt was still present in her expression, almost consumingly so.

Keyleth closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, trying to tamp down the urge to snap. The twins deserved so much better than this endless, awful tangle. 

It must’ve been all over her face, because she watched Devana’s expression morph into something sadder. “Keyleth,” Devana started, still with the kindness Keyleth remembered from her at eighteen, but -

“Keyleth,” Scanlan interrupted abruptly, from the end of the corridor. He’d stopped short, eyes flickering between her and Devana, but now jogged the rest of the way to her. “You good, Kiki?” he asked carefully, in the kind of voice usually reserved for creeps in clubs, rather than step-mothers in friends’ asshole father’s homes. 

Keyleth watched Devana give Scanlan a once-over, and gritted her teeth. “Scanlan, this is Devana. Syldor’s wife.”

Scanlan eyed her up. “Pleasure,” he said flatly, then immediately turned back to Keyleth, in a move that made her want to both laugh, and cry. “We’re all done loading the truck,” he told her, “if you’ve got everything from the rooms?”

Keyleth summoned every ounce of steadiness she could find within her, and looked back to Devana. “The things that used to be in the study…”

“There wasn’t much, but anything there was was moved to their rooms.”

“Then I’m done,” she told Scanlan, with a nod. She took a step back from Devana, who gave her an understanding, apologetic nod, but had the sense to stay quiet. Keyleth broke her gaze. She wanted to get out of here. (And perhaps, to ask Grog to drive the truck into the middle of nowhere, so she could stand in a field and scream, loud and guttural enough to cause the birds in the trees to scatter into the air in a flurry of desperate wings.)

She almost turned and left. It would have been so easy, to just follow Scanlan down the stairs. But guilt tugged at her chest as she attempted to, so instead she closed her eyes, frustration washing through her. She couldn’t just go - it wasn’t fair. Not with the way Velora’s eyes had lit up at the mention of her siblings, not with her excitement, her delight, and the way her smile curved in exactly the same way as the twins’. 

“Give me a sec,” she muttered to Scanlan, not waiting for his response but instead heading back down the corridor towards the playroom, turning the handle of the door. “Hey Velora?” 

This mess didn’t belong to the girl in front of her, who’d done nothing wrong but simply be born into this family. Velora scrambled back to her feet, looking up at her with big, wide eyes, the stuffed toys she’d been tidying away abandoned on the floor. Keyleth gave herself a moment just to take her in. Three freckles, just below her left eye. A butterfly-shaped bead threaded into her hair. Despite all she’d said earlier about the twins getting their features from Elaina, the curve of Velora’s nose matched that of the twins’, and her eagerness and curiosity reminded Keyleth unexpectedly of them both too. The vines that wrapped around her ribcage twisted tighter, and a sharp, stabbing pain shot through her lungs, but she forced herself to ignore it and dropped down to a crouch. “I… I have to go,” she apologised quietly. “But I’ll tell the twins you said hi, okay?”

“You promise?”

“Pinky swear.”

Keyleth held out her little finger and Velora shook it firmly, then beamed, with a bright delight that twisted the knife even deeper. She returned the smile as well as she could, hoping the innocence that came with Velora’s age would prevent her from seeing the uncertainty she wasn’t quite doing a good job of hiding, then gave her a small wave and turned to leave.

Devana had a soft, conflicted look on her face that Keyleth didn’t have the energy to address. Scanlan had followed them both down the corridor, and was watching from the doorway, too.

Keyleth nodded to Devana. Then she turned to walk down the corridor, stopping one last time to glance into Vax’s old bedroom before closing the door firmly, trusting that Scanlan would follow as she made her way downstairs. (He did. Of course he did. Her boys - willing to follow her across the country, into whatever mess she’d dragged them into.)

Fuck.

Fucking shit.

“Don’t say anything, okay?” she said quietly, when Scanlan fell into step beside her. She spared a glance over in his direction, just in time to see the shake of his head. 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he replied softly, with uncharacteristic weight. He was rarely serious, but not a hint of levity accompanied the words, and when he met her eyes, they were trusting. “You’re going to tell them though, right?”

“Yeah - yeah, I -” She swallowed, took a trembling, exhausted breath. “I am, yeah.” 

Scanlan nodded, then bumped her shoulder lightly with his own as they crossed the foyer. “You did good today,” he said warmly, with an affection and pride she’d never heard from him before, at least not directed towards her. Her eyes flickered around the house one last time before landing on him, and he smiled. “Now let's get the hell out of here.”

It was later than she’d planned for it to be by the time they arrived back in Whitestone.

Traffic was shit, and the weather wasn’t much better, although the storm clouds had at least faded by the time they reached the outskirts of Whitestone, sunlight beginning to flicker back through evening clouds. The second that Grog killed the engine, and Keyleth and Scanlan jumped down from their seats and shut the doors behind them with slightly more tired force than they’d meant to, the front door of the house burst open. 

Trinket, as per usual, came bounding out first, looping between their legs and jumping up to Keyleth, yapping excitedly. Vex followed, Vax close behind with Pike in tow. It said enough that Vex didn’t tell Trinket off for jumping; the shadows beneath her eyes had lessened ever so slightly - perhaps the weekend away had done her good - but her hair was still messy and loose, and she looked small in the big, faded purple sweatshirt hanging past her hips. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” she demanded, her voice cracking with emotion. 

Barely waiting for her to finish the sentence, eyes blazing with emotionally charged, relieved but still ferocious anger, Vax snapped, “You didn’t leave a note, you didn’t fucking call -” 

In spite of her exhaustion, Keyleth realised the thing she could hear in their voices, the fragile tenor of their anger, was panic. 

It was Pike, also looking relieved but much less emotionally fraught, who asked, more diplomatically, “Are you guys okay? Did something happen?” 

Scanlan, Percy and Grog all looked to Keyleth, letting her decide what to say. 

She took a long, fortifying breath. “I dragged them along so don’t be mad at them,” she said in a rush. Vex and Vax had moved to stand opposite Keyleth and the boys, both with identical expressions of frustrated bewilderment on their faces that on any other day, Keyleth might have laughed at. 

“What are we going to be mad about?” Vax asked warily, verging on angry again. 

Before Keyleth could figure out how the fuck to say it, Pike, unhelpfully, said, “Grog, is that your truck?” 

Keyleth winced. 

“I thought your cousin had it,” said Vex, frowning. 

Grog glanced at Keyleth uneasily. “He did.” 

“How did you get it?” asked Vax, but there was a measured edge to his voice that made Keyleth suspect he had already figured it out. 

Grog’s eyes flickered to her again and this time, she nodded. “From him,” Grog said quietly. 

There was a pause. A long, weighted, poised, uncomfortable pause. Keyleth steadied herself for the explosion. 

Instead, it was Vex who broke the silence, sounding far too quiet and uneasy. “You went to Emon?” 

The answer was profoundly obvious from the fact that nobody replied for a solid twenty seconds, but Keyleth took the responsibility anyway. “Yes,” she said, matching Vex’s quiet. 

Vax’s anger shifted but stayed. The distance that had threatened to swallow him all week had morphed into something akin to betrayal the moment Vex mentioned Emon, and Keyleth caught a faint flash behind his eyes before he closed his expression off to her, crawling behind walls she desperately wished she could pull down. She hated that her first thought was of the furious glint in Syldor’s eyes. 

Unlike Vex, Vax’s quietness felt eerie as he, still evidently furious, demanded, “ Why? ” 

For a moment, Keyleth wondered whether he - and maybe Vex too - suspected the answer from how she and the boys were acting, but were too afraid to ask it outright. Too afraid to let themselves hope. 

“We went to go get your mom’s stuff from your dad’s house,” Keyleth said, with the last vestiges of courage she had tucked away for standing off with Syldor. 

“There isn’t any of her stuff at our dad’s house,” Vax said through his teeth. Anger flashed in Vax’s eyes as brightly as shock had flashed in Vex’s. “There wasn’t anything to leave.” 

Vex flinched, barely noticeably, but Keyleth caught it. Oddly, it gave her the last burst of resolve she needed to look Vax in the eye and calmly, patiently, explain. Explain her growing suspicions over the past week, explain her conversation with Korrin, explain her request to Scanlan, Grog and Percy, and explain in the simplest way she could that with the truth, it had been easy enough to corner Syldor into giving them what they wanted. 

(She left out Percy’s role in doing so.) 

She watched Vex trying to process it all, hurt and astonishment and hope running a mile a minute behind her eyes, while Pike had some kind of silent exchange with Grog and Percy and Scanlan, and Vax’s expression remained unreadable. 

“What did you bring back?” Vex asked in a small voice. 

Something akin to relief relaxed some of the taut muscles of Keyleth’s shoulders. She forced her gaze away from Vax to look at Vex, offering her a hesitant smile. “Come ‘n see.” 

Vax lingered a few paces behind the rest of them as they grouped around the back of the truck, starting to ease boxes and bags from their carefully stacked arrangement and prying a few open to give Vex a glimpse at what was inside. Keyleth stayed by Vax, watching him watch his sister and their friends. Watching, until his sharp eyes caught a flash of colour as Vex’s fingers pulled that soft, lovingly-stitched together quilt out of the bag it’d been tucked into, at which point his foundations shuddered, and bricks began to crumble. 

“ Keyleth ,” he breathed, trembling. It came out cracked, tangled with emotion, and the lump in her throat grew three sizes. (“You’ll lose pieces of her over and over again,” he told her, three weeks after they’d gotten to know each other, sat at a shaded picnic bench in a quiet corner of the school grounds, the lesson they were meant to be in abandoned. Dark eyes fixed on her, holding a depth she wished she didn’t understand. “But that doesn’t mean you won’t find them again.”) 

She squeezed his arm and began to move towards the truck too, and after a moment, Vax followed, half a step behind.

It didn’t take long to unload it, between the seven of them. Pike switched on the living room lamps with a relieved smile as they headed inside, lighting the candles that sat beside the TV and moving the ones from the coffee table, so that Percy could place a couple of the smaller cardboard boxes on top of it. He did so with a reverence that Keyleth saw Vex clock, her eyes following the motion of his hands even as he pulled away. When her throat bobbed, Keyleth continued to move through the space, her back to the two of them for a moment as she set the bag she was carrying down on the living room floor.

The remainder of the evening soon shifted into warmth, surprised inhales taking the place of the hollow tension that had filled the house in the build up to the weekend as old photos were unearthed, along with faded notes and beloved CDs, patterned dishes for trinkets, little pieces of Elaina that the twins had assumed gone long ago, or had forgotten about over the years.

Vax had two rings in the palm of his hand, and was tracing a finger lightly over the contours.

“You look so much like her,” Scanlan told Vex softly, holding up a grainy photo of Elaina, younger than they both were now, perched on a park bench with a bright scarf around her neck. She’d been caught mid-laugh by whoever had taken the photograph, the joy emanating from her trapped in time, forever. 

“She does,” Vax said quietly. There was a closeness and a warmth to it that had disappeared a few weeks ago, and although he didn’t look away from the photograph, Keyleth felt the shift in the air. Beside her, Vex wrapped the quilt around her shoulders like she was eight years old, then bent over to press a kiss to Keyleth’s shoulder. Her lips brushed against Vex’s hairline in return. She found it hard enough herself to look in the mirror every time March rolled around, because she knew she’d find the ghost of her mother staring back at her, so this … it mattered . She couldn’t provide the twins the things they’d gone looking for in Byroden, and she knew from experience that nothing she or anyone else could do would ever really soothe the sting, but still. It was something. It would’ve been impossible to miss how much it meant to them both, even if she didn’t have her own keepsakes of her mother’s to compare it to, treasured throughout the years. 

When Percy rested a hand evenly above Vax’s left shoulderblade he immediately leant into the touch, and relief spread from deep within Keyleth’s stomach, blossoming into something hopeful. New. 

Pike gave her a subtle nod from the other side of the room, gratitude and warmth in her eyes, and as the clock ticked closer to midnight, no one paid it a speck of attention.

It wasn’t something Vax had been able to put into words until Keyleth had arrived back in Whitestone in Grog’s old, beat-down, rumbling pick up truck, with half of Vax’s childhood in boxes in the cargo bed. Until he’d sat on the couch with history in his hands and his friends surrounding him as the darkness closed in, a little less suffocating than it had been the year before, or the year before that, or the year before that one, too. Until the morning rolled around and he’d slept and was back on the living room floor with hair damp from the shower, Vex’s old quilt draped over his and her laps as they sat there, thumbing through photo albums, trying to make out his grandmother’s scrawled recipes, jotted down in intricate cursive of a language he’d only learnt how to read and speak six years ago. 

There had been no love during those years in Syldor’s house that he could learn or hold onto or carry through his life. Everything he knew about love, about family and how beautiful the world was, had been Elaina’s doing, had been grown and nurtured and unconditionally given in those precious years in Byroden. Vax had learned how to love in the hushed, giggled whispers between him and Vex, underneath their blankets with torchlight illuminating their faces; in the home cooked meals even when their cupboards were sparse; in how dutifully Elaina mended their worn clothes; in the stories she would tell them of places so much brighter and more beautiful than this run-down little town they were in; in the prayers she taught them to say before bed in languages they didn’t understand, to gods even Elaina didn’t necessarily believe in, prayers that sounded like songs, whispered hopes that he’d later realised their mother had determinedly kept familiar on their tongues because it gave them something to hold onto, a way to maybe be so slightly less alone than she had been. A quiet, resilient belief that maybe something in the universe would be kind to them. 

This had been the language of love that Vax knew, the one he’d had to hold fast and tight to in those cold, hard, endless days in Syngorn. Vex had known it too once, of course, just as well as he had, but she’d found it harder to keep hold of. Perhaps that was why he had always managed to be the more open, more trusting, more kind-hearted of the two of them. 

But that wasn’t to say he had been cleared of all the icy shards pierced into their hearts by Syldor’s looming presence in their lives. Vax saw it so clearly now, in how things had gone with Keyleth. He’d loved her; he’d been so, achingly, wonderfully in love with everything about her and had known it, had let the comfort of it keep him warm through all those years of turbulent uncertainty. He had mountains of excuses for why he’d never acted on it - Keyleth’s own relationship with romance and sexuality, how important their friendship was, how easily it could affect their friendships with the others - but in truth, Vax knew part of it was how impossibly far away that easy, sincere, real kind of love he’d once held so strongly felt, how unsure he was that he could ever show it, and how afraid he was that if he couldn’t, what would develop as some strange, unfamiliar form of love in its place would end up hurting Keyleth instead. 

It had been the same for Vex; that was easy to realise, in hindsight. How she’d been in high school, how things had ended with Percy even though they’d very clearly been in love with each other. Maybe she had understood it back then, this thing that Vax had buried under so many other excuses. She never gave herself the credit she deserved for being braver than him, for looking her own flaws and fears directly in the eye and stepping straight into their path, no matter the consequence. Vax was quick-footed; he was good at avoiding them until he had the armour and defenses to power through. 

Funny, to realise they had both still, somehow, ended up in the same place, with all these pieces of their life and family and history scattered around them. With the subtle sweetness of love infusing all the quiet corners of a day usually blanketed in fear and regret.

They’d found their way back to the sparse, hazy foundations of the life and love that Elaina had sent them off into the world with. He had found it in a language he desperately wanted to know, in music and fashion and jewellery. Vex had found it in food and literature and history, and of course, because it was them, through stealing his makeup and jewellery at times. (For her twenty-second birthday, Gilmore had gifted Vex a little silver, eye-shaped pot of homemade kohl. He’d taught Vax how to make it in their second year of university and Vax’s was a thick, rich, midnight black. Vex’s was a gorgeous prussian blue, intoxicating and haunting. It came with infinite refills, Gilmore had told her; he’d make her more, anytime she needed a top up. She’d never bought eyeliner ever again.) 

But this felt different still. All these years in Whitestone had been like reaching out for something neither he or Vex had known was still there, hoping they’d grasp something , anything that they could pull back into their lives and cling to, as a faint ghost of Elaina and her life and culture, everything she’d once wanted them to know and love. They weren’t grasping blindly, now. Everything that they’d ever had of Elaina was here, and it was theirs. 

Everything she was, everything they could have been. Every way they could have possibly known her, here for them to pour over. 

Vax had spent six years thinking he’d found all the things that were missing, that he’d fought as hard as he possibly could have to hang onto everything Elaina taught him, that he was as much the person she’d made him as he ever could be. Keyleth had now shown him that there were endless more doors left for both him and Vex to open. 

“Have you seen this one yet?” asked Vex softly, handing him a heavy, dust-laden photo album. “I think it’s got about fifty photos of you running around the back garden with your ass out. I’m going to make bunting out of them for our next birthday.” 

Vax swatted her. “Give it here, you dick.” 

She did, her grin softer than her words, placing the album in his lap with weighted care. 

Vax traced the embossed cover, creating lines in the dust and wondering whether some of the specks had been from their old house, had lasted all this time, all this hurt, to make it here. 

He breathed out as much of the anger, the loss, and the regret as he could bring himself to part with, and let warmth fill its place.

Chapter Text

Velora haunted all of Keyleth’s waking thoughts over the days that followed. Her bright eyes, the explosion of colour in her playroom, the pure, innocent joy in her beam at the mention of the twins. Walking out of the Vessar mansion, Keyleth had seen the traces of Velora that she hadn’t noticed at first, too singularly focused on confronting Syldor. A bright pink stuffed unicorn was wedged into one of the couch cushions. Several pairs of small (undoubtedly obscenely expensive) shoes were neatly stacked on an ornate shoe rack in the foyer. A child-sized woollen coat hung next to Devana’s and Syldor’s. New professional, framed photographs hung on the walls that Keyleth hadn’t paid attention to on the way upstairs, her eyes skimming over them because she’d assumed they were the same ones she’d walked past at least once a week as a teenager. They showcased Velora at all ages, from a tiny, wide-eyed infant to the chubby-cheeked five year old with a missing tooth and bows in her hair that Keyleth had met. 

She wondered whether Percy and Grog might have seen what she had too, put the pieces together that Keyleth and Scanlan hadn’t had to and instead seen the full picture first. Percy, at the very least, she expected to be observant enough to take notice. He and Scanlan had never been to this place and Keyleth wouldn’t have blamed them for snooping a little. She found herself holding her breath, anticipating his questions of why she hadn’t said anything to the rest of them or, most importantly, Vex and Vax, but the moment never came. 

When Keyleth and Scanlan were alone in the bathroom getting ready on Monday morning - everyone else already at work, and Vax having an early meeting with Lieve’tel - she asked as much, glancing over her shoulder nervously as though afraid to be overheard, even though she knew nobody else was home. 

“I mean, yeah, I was a little curious,” Scanlan admitted through a mouthful of toothpaste. “But it was more overshadowed but how fucking gross it felt to be there, knowing what it was like for them all those years. Seeing it with my own eyes made it so much more real. Seeing that big portrait of them as kids, jesus. I dunno. Anything else, any where else, I would’ve maybe been nosier but … anything I wanted to know more about was in their rooms, not the rest of the house. I don’t wanna know what family story Syldor Vessar is showing off to the rest of the world because I know it’s not true.” 

“But then you did see her,” said Keyleth, trying to fix the overzealous amount of blush she’d accidentally deposited on one cheek. “You don’t think the others might have seen the photos or her coat or her toys while they were waiting for us?” She squinted at the mirror. “Fuck, I look like a clown. ” 

Scanlan snorted, spat out his toothpaste, rinsed his mouth and turned to her. “Christ, what have you done? Come here, give me your makeup bag. Sit.” She dutifully perched on the edge of the bathtub, eyes fluttering closed as Scanlan dusted a makeup brush over her cheeks. “You know Grog,” he said. (She wasn’t sure if his voice sounded softer because her eyes were closed or if this conversation had sunken into something quieter and more intimate, honest.) “I love him, but you give him a task and that guy’s not noticing anything else unless you point a finger right at it. As for Percy …” 

“He should’ve noticed,” Keyleth said, teeth worrying her bottom lip nervously. “But he hasn’t said anything. Maybe he thinks I didn’t notice? What if he’s already told Vex and Vax? I’ve been trying to give them as much time as possible to feel better about this weekend and having all of Elaina’s stuff back but -” 

“He didn’t notice,” said Scanlan with a certainty that made Keyleth open her eyes. 

“How do you know?” 

The last glimpses of morning sun crested through the corner of the window, light dappling against the white and green tiling. It made the hazel of Scanlan’s eyes feel warmer even in the unexpectedly tight expression he wore. 

“Because going into a house like that is Percy’s worst nightmare,” he said quietly. “It’s the belly of the beast of a type of people and life that he’ll do nearly anything to stay away from. The only reason he did was for the twins, and for you. Even if he saw the photos, or the shoes, or the toys, I don’t think he would’ve even been thinking about it enough to figure out what that meant. The Percy that you saw, the one who used his name and title to make Syldor back down? That wasn’t our Percy. You know our Percy. He never would’ve admitted how he felt about Vex in front of us, he hates it when people really highlight how rich he is, and he never talks about his family or their influence.” Scanlan offered Keyleth a small smile, shrugging as he evened out her atrocious blush application with translucent face powder that she realised he’d retrieved from his own makeup bag. “Besides, I think Percy’s the same as me. Even if he’d been his regular self, he doesn’t give a fuck what version of the twins, their lives, and that family Syldor is showing off in his house. He knows it’s all bullshit anyway.” 

That conversation gave Keyleth the gift of time. It helped assure her that nobody else was about to unceremoniously drop the Velora bomb on the twins before she figured out how best to. It took several days to work up the courage, to unclench her jaw and steel herself for the moment she burst the bubble of joy and relief that Vex and Vax had relaxed into since the others returned from Emon. Getting Elaina’s belongings back had felt like a marked turning point - at least, Keyleth hoped it could be one. From the way Pike had pulled her aside the evening of the anniversary and wrapped her arms fiercely around Keyleth, she seemed to think so too.

Thursday was cool but sunny. Keyleth and Vax’s afternoon unfurled with a slowness that they - and the other PhD students they spent most days with - knew was rare, and tried to sink into with as little restlessness as possible. As the journal article Keyleth had been determined to get through by the end of the day sat entirely untouched on her desk, mug of tea warm in hand and the exhausted laughter of fellow postgraduate students around her, Keyleth’s laptop pinged with a new email, everyone else’s following in quick succession. Their feedback from October’s conference. 

After reading through an email filled with glowing congratulations, lauded admiration over her research, and several inquiries from academics, researchers, and scientists across Tal’dorei to get in touch when she had the time, Keyleth discovered with excitement that Vax had received similar accolades. It was as good an excuse as any (and truthfully, they’d all been waiting for one) to give up on PhD work for the rest of the afternoon and head home while the sun was still out. 

Vax was cracking open two beers before Keyleth had even dropped her bag from her shoulder, nudging her upstairs with an explanatory, “Roof might still be sunny, c’mon.” They traded their outside coats for a couple of rattier but much cosier jumpers to fight the approaching winter chill, and not long after climbing through Pike’s bedroom window, Vex - who on the odd occasion worked from home - emerged from her bedroom with a surprised smile, ducking through the window to join them. 

“Thought you’d be tied up in ass kissing meetings all day,” said Vax, offering Vex a sip of his beer. She took it, taking a cheekily long swig. 

“That was my morning,” she said. “What, you didn’t see me in Percy’s room arguing with some useless EA from Issylra who refuses to set up a meeting with their boss despite him telling me to schedule a finances meeting for sometime this month?” 

“Riveting,” said Vax, stealing his beer back. 

“You were working from Percy’s room?” asked Keyleth, mouth moving faster than her brain. 

“He’s got a desk and I don’t,” said Vex without missing a beat, though Keyleth thought she could see a faint blush on her cheeks. Maybe it was just the cold. That being said, she was wearing Percy’s sweater - a thick, oversized, high-necked knit made of grey and blue wool that brought out Vex’s eyes, especially in the evening light. She had a warm, fond look on her face at the sight of them both.

Keyleth took an easy sip of her beer and leant back on one hand, her legs stretched out in front of her. 

Vax flopped onto his back, his head hitting the roof with a faint thunk that had Vex snorting, no sympathy in sight, but he ignored her. Sunlight caught the angles of his face as he smiled. “ Ecology Monthly ,” he said with an incredulous laugh. “Like, holy shit. Holy shit . I think half of my Masters bibliography came from there. And they want us to submit!” 

The holy shit felt like the constant state of Keyleth’s brain over the last couple of hours. She hadn’t expected it either, and wasn’t entirely sure the news had sunk in yet. Vax looked at her upside-down, delight caught in his eyes.

“You say that like it’s some kind of impossible thing,” said Vex, prodding him in the ribs. He yelped and squirmed away from her. 

“It is ,” he said insistently. “It’s the most prolific Ecology journal in Tal’dorei. We’re barely a few months into our PhDs, we haven’t even started fieldwork yet! It’s insane that they liked our preliminary research presentations that much.” 

“Yeah, but you two are fucking good at what you do,” said Vex. “You love it so much. Even on the days when you’re tearing your hair out. Fuck what the research might turn into - that’s not what any of these people saw at the conference. They saw your passion and dedication and that’s worth so much more than some flashy research proposal from someone who doesn’t really give a fuck.” 

There was a warmth to her voice that had been missing for so much of the week before. Keyleth saw it catch in Vex’s chest, any of her own incredulity and surprise melting into something so filled with pride, and affection. “I’m proud of you,” she said, glancing over to Keyleth too. “ Both of you.” Vax’s cheeks flushed and Keyleth felt her own do the same. Vex swiped Vax’s beer bottle so she could hold it out and clink it against Keyleth’s, then dangled it over Vax for him to take.

Vax shifted so he could properly face them both and propped himself up on his elbows. The expression on his face should have filled her with a matching warmth, but instead, Keyleth felt guilt swirl in the pit of her stomach. 

“This week has been much better than it usually is,” Vax said quietly, his eyes finding hers. The because of you was implied, but Keyleth picked at the edge of the label on her beer bottle, moistened by condensation. Its chill from the fridge and the steadily dropping temperature outside seemed to numb her fingers suddenly, the cold feeling spreading uncomfortably through her veins from her hands down to her wrists, then up her arms to her shoulders. 

She wanted to let them have this. To let them live in this warmth and comfort, this new page, tangle their fingers into the threads of it and grip it tightly forever. More selfishly, she wanted to sink into the immense gratitude that was being directed her way and allow it to envelop her in its entirety without disruption, because like so many of Vax’s emotions, it flowed freely out of him, all-consuming. But it wouldn’t be true. And after everything, it was hard to think of two people who deserved the truth more than the two sat in front of her.

“I need to tell you something,” she said in a rush, the words almost tripping over themselves in their hurry to stumble into the world. “About … the weekend.” 

Vex’s eyes snapped to hers with sudden, sharp attention, her eyebrows curving into a frown. Keyleth hated that she could see the easy, late-afternoon, sun-soaked joy she was about to steal away. But it was now or never; no one else was home, and the cutting grief of the anniversary had sunken into something much softer for several days now. 

“Did he say something to you?” Vax asked, a hard edge to his voice, anger curled anticipatorily around the he. 

Keyleth blinked. “What? Oh, um - no, no. I mean, sure, same old shit but I expected as much, so no - that’s not -” She sucked in a breath, her eyes flickering down to her beer bottle as the label caught a little beneath her nail, lifting off the glass. She summoned bravery from somewhere within, (maybe from the person she knew Vex and Vax both saw her as, the person she’d always wanted to be). “Look,” she said, quieter, and she could feel the stillness of the twins’ rapt attention on her. Usually, it felt intoxicating. Now, it made her feel a little sick. “I … I wanted to wait until after this past weekend. I went to Emon for a reason and honestly, I don’t think I expected it to work out as well as it did. Being able to give you all of your mom’s stuff, give you the chance to remember her the way you did … that was special, and it was important to me. I didn’t want to take anything away from that.” 

“But?” said Vex, equally quiet but with a knowing, searching look in her eyes. 

Keyleth swallowed. “But the longer I wait, the worse this is going to be for you to find out. You should have found out a long time ago anyway.” 

“You’re freaking me out, Kiki,” said Vax, that angry edge bending a little to nervousness. 

“Syldor and Devana had a kid,” said Keyleth before either of them had the chance to say anything else. The words sounded foreign to her ears even though she’d tested out all the best possible ways she might be able to say it, alone in her bedroom, door closed, pacing. Maybe this wasn’t the best one, but it was the simplest. “A daughter,” she clarified, chewing on her bottom lip. “She’s … she’s five and a half.” 

They both stared, suddenly silent. 

Keyleth set her beer down carefully beside herself on the roof and crossed her legs, running her hands nervously over her knees. “I asked Devana. She was pregnant before you guys left and she and Syldor hadn’t told you. I’m not sure whether it was purposeful or whether they just hadn’t figured out how , but -” She tried to decipher the identical, stony look in both twins’ eyes but came back with nothing. “I uh - I met her. Their daughter. Your … your sister.” 

Vax pushed himself up so he was sitting, too. The sunlight glinted off his dark hair, such a similar shade to Velora’s, and Keyleth glanced between both of the twins, watching the news sink in. It was Vax who spoke first, voice shaking a little with a mixture of anger and concern. “How - how is she? Does she - is she like -”

Like us , his eyes asked, pleading. Keyleth managed a bittersweet echo of a smile. All she could do was be honest with them both, they deserved that, despite how much it would hurt. “I didn’t see her for very long but from what I did … no. Your old study is her playroom now. It looks like she has everything she could ever ask for, like Syldor and Devana spoil her completely. She was sweet, though. And -” Keyleth hesitated, eyes darting specifically to Vex for an uneasy moment. “- loved.”

Vax pressed his lips together, eerily silent. His shoulders were a hard line. Keyleth almost regretted speaking - she missed the easy smile from moments before, hated the way it had been consumed by the dark cloud she’d ushered in - but it wasn’t fair to keep this from them for any longer. 

“It makes sense,” Vex said, so quiet that Keyleth had to strain to hear her, but even that softness felt worse than Vax’s silence. There was no anger in Vex’s voice but Keyleth so badly wished there was. “Devana is from a wealthy, respectable, reputable family. That’s why Dad married her. There’s no reason for their daughter not to be everything he would want. He doesn’t have anything to be embarrassed or ashamed of.” 

“That’s bullshit -” Vax growled, eyes not straying from his hands. A furious noise followed, under his breath, and Keyleth watched hurt flicker through Vex’s eyes, insecurity laced through it in a way that made her feel less like she was watching the Vex she knew react to this news, and more like she was sitting in front of a fractured, fragile, fifteen year old Vex’ahlia. A version of her Keyleth thought she’d outgrown, years of an aching desire to be wanted on full display. 

“ Vax ,” Keyleth said, voice low. It held a sharp enough edge to tug his attention to her, with a hint of pleading, too. Her eyes flickered pointedly over to Vex, and his anger quickly, visibly, softened, although she could still feel it - a low hum beneath his skin. But it was simmering, rather than the untempered boil it had threatened to be moments ago, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed, clearly now paying attention to what she was. He would fight the world on Vex’s behalf if he had to, but that wasn’t what she needed, not now. 

He glanced between Keyleth and Vex, then back to Keyleth, his jaw forcefully unclenching. She could see that an immense amount of effort went into unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, and then through some wonder, he found a little more from deep down within, and used it to filter through the words he wanted to spit into the air until he instead found the ones that Vex would have chosen, if it wasn’t for the faraway look in her eyes. “What’s her name?”

Hesitation was thick on his tongue, but at the question, Vex looked up, quietly curious but with sadness lurking in her eyes too.

Keyleth reached out a hand to rest it lightly on Vex’s ankle. 

“Velora,” she answered quietly.

“Velora,” Vex repeated, tasting the syllables on her tongue. The breath Vax took shook in a way he definitely didn’t mean it to.

“She knew about you both,” Keyleth added, clumsily uncertain in what was needed and what was too much but tentatively plowing ahead regardless. “I mean, Devana had clearly told her - she would have had to, because even if Syldor wanted to pretend you guys didn’t exist, he’d spent too many years using you as a prop for that bullshit family man image of his so all the shitty photos are still on the walls. But Velora seemed to have ideas of you in her head that went beyond that. She had some of your old stuff, and she was so excited when she found out I was a friend of yours. She seems to idolise you - I bet that drives Syldor crazy.”

At that, she received a pair of identical smirks, albeit weak ones. “Atta girl,” Vax murmured, followed by a soft chuckle.

Vex pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her arms on them, then set her chin on top. “Really?” she asked quietly, and Keyleth knew her well enough to know the question wasn’t about Syldor.

“She asked me about you,” she replied. “Wanted to know everything, and I literally mean everything. Talking a mile a minute, asking so many questions. Devana had to step in to give me a chance to process what the fuck was going on. Velora even wanted to draw you pictures. I didn’t hang around long, and I didn’t want to tell her anything you wouldn’t want Devana or your father to overhear, but … I think she’d really love to know you. If you were ever okay with having Syldor on the periphery of your lives again, and I would understand if you didn’t. I’m not - I’m not trying to push you into it or judge you for whatever you end up deciding to do with the knowledge that she exists. You don’t owe her anything, and you especially don’t owe her a relationship with Syldor.”

She squeezed Vex’s ankle again before letting go, and glanced back over to Vax just in time to watch him sink his teeth into his tongue, physically biting back a retort because the look on Vex’s face was thoughtful, and overwhelmed, but not instantly opposed to the idea. Keyleth reached out to him too, lightly squeezing just above his knee. It was a big if . A very big if - and honestly, not one she could see Vax leaning into - but there was a possibility, if it was what Vex decided she wanted. Even if Vax loathed the idea of coming remotely close to Syldor again, there was almost no world where he let Vex stray that far from him, especially if she was stepping back into their father’s world. 

(Keyleth had no intention of letting them face any of that alone, either.) 

“You don’t have to do anything right now,” she reminded them quietly. “She’ll still be there, just like she has been for five and a half years. I just figured you both deserved to know.”

There was something so intriguing about Percival de Rolo. Everything Keyleth learnt about him felt like another piece of a puzzle, and gradually, her collection of pieces was beginning to come together into something vaguely recogniseable. For now though, he remained an enigma. Of her housemates, she knew him by far the least. Pike, Grog and the twins, she’d of course grown up alongside, and had the help of a shared history and adolescence. Scanlan, meanwhile, was an oversharer on the best of days, seemingly taking the others’ judgement of her character at face value and embracing her as an old friend from the get go (through which she had become privy to a mountain of astounding stories and gossip, some of which Keyleth could really have lived a good life without ever having to picture).

Percy was more reserved. In general, she’d quickly come to realise; it wasn’t just her . He didn’t talk the way Scanlan did, keeping things close to his chest in a way that gave Keyleth the impression that he’d learnt to keep his mouth shut at some point in his life before now. From conversations she’d had with Vex about first year and the group all getting to know one another, it sounded like he’d been infinitely more buttoned up back then. And with the sparse but telling details she’d slowly tucked away about his family, it wasn’t hard to pencil in when Percy had developed this careful reservedness. 

The longest conversation she’d had with him had been in the car on the way back from Syngorn. They’d swapped seats for the second half of the drive, so Percy was driving and Keyleth was in the passenger seat, with the boys fast asleep in the back. She’d tucked her knees up to her chest and watched the spread out roadsigns whip past the window as Percy skirted around the edge of a village they’d encountered, embracing the quiet calm with relief, knowing that the four of them had accomplished exactly what she’d set out to do and were now on their way back to the twins, all with minimal push-back from Syldor. Well, minimal-ish. She didn’t honestly know how far she’d have gotten without Percy stepping in, throwing his mouthful of a name around in a way that had hit Syldor exactly where it would hurt. 

(“I’d appreciate it if the things I said in that house didn’t make their way back to Vex’ahlia,” Percy had said quietly, as they left Syngorn in the rearview mirror. Her murmur of reassurance joined Grog’s and Scanlan’s, but later, once the boys in the back had fallen asleep in the backseats and it was just the two of them, she’d quietly dared to bring the conversation back up, and for whatever reason - the quiet, the subtle respect she’d earned from him somewhere along the way - he’d let her.

“You don’t want her to know?” she asked quietly.

Percy didn’t immediately reply, and when his answer came, it was thoughtful. “It’s not the right time for it.”

Keyleth pressed her lips together to avoid blurting out the first indignant thought that came into her head. She wouldn’t have bothered if it were any of the others, but she was still learning how to read him. Besides, Vex was too important a topic to bulldoze over. “I don’t know that I agree,” she said with as much daughter-of-a-lawyer eloquence as she could string together after the day they’d had.

Percy looked her way briefly, before his eyes returned to the road. His lips twitched, ever so faintly. “Noted,” he told her, with a hint of a smile. Then, after a pause had settled, “It felt needed.”

“Can I ask …” Truthfully, Keyleth didn’t want to ask this, but going to bat for both of the twins was an instinct that settled into her skin at fourteen, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever shake it. “I know I haven’t been here for pretty much everything that’s happened between you and Vex, so maybe this is an unfair demand from me. But I need to know if you meant it.”

“Every word,” he said without a beat of hesitation. He flicked his indicator on to change lanes, glancing briefly behind him before moving to the left. Keyleth studied the sharp lines of his nose and jaw, tousled, platinum blonde hair sticking up in every direction with an untidiness she rarely saw in him. Even in the dim light of the truck, only the lights on the dashboard illuminating his face, she could still catch a flash of his piercingly blue eyes. He looked far more like himself than he had earlier, she realised with a start. She’d been too distracted to really see it, but there’d been something different about him the entire time they’d been at the Vessar house, something far away and rigid and closed off. His eyes were softer now, but maybe that was the orange glow from the indicator arrow and the streetlights along the highway. 

The steady tick tick tick clicked off with an abruptness that left the truck in a momentarily unnerving quiet, before Percy continued speaking. “I don’t want her to know I said it but that’s because it was here, to him , and it was today of all days. I truly couldn’t think of a worse combination of place and time for her to hear about this.” 

Keyleth abandoned her pretences of nonchalant eloquence as she snorted with wry, agreeing laughter. 

“But,” said Percy, softer, “that doesn’t make it any less true.”

For all her perhaps-not-so-subtle prying and poor attempts to hide her nagging curiosity, Keyleth couldn’t think of what to say to that. She’d never met anyone who had real, sincere, devoted feelings for Vex before. She had somewhat decided at age fifteen that there could never be a single person good enough. It felt strange knowing that her younger self wouldn’t hesitate to extend that claim to Percy, when Keyleth now could see the things he wasn’t saying, maybe didn’t know how to say, that proved to her just how real this was. 

“I’d move the Earth for her if I could,” he admitted, his voice even quieter than before, his eyes not leaving the road. The reverence and certainty that hummed beneath the words was something she’d never heard in him before. “For both of them. You’re one of the few people who would understand, I think, what it is to have them beside you in times you can’t see the other side of.”)

Keyleth still found herself oddly surprised when, early on Friday evening, Percy asked if she wanted to come with him to walk Trinket. He’d been working from home all day, and she’d come home from her office early after a more productive day than usual. Even though they were the only two home, his offer felt pointed in a way she couldn’t put her finger on. 

It distracted her enough that she forgot to respond right away.

“You don’t have to if you’re busy,” said Percy. “I didn’t expect you to come home this early. Do you have an appointment or something?” 

“No, no!” said Keyleth quickly, shaking her head and brushing the surprise away. “I’m just … home. Yeah, I’ll come, I feel like I’ve been neglecting my ecologist requirements to spend time outdoors. And with Trinket.”

Percy snorted a half-laugh, dropping down to a squat when Trinket - as if summoned - bounded over to where they stood, water dripping from his nose and mouth where he’d seconds ago had his face shoved into his water bowl. He bumped into Percy insistently, slobbering on his t-shirt, until Percy pushed his head away. “Okay, okay, you goof. I actually quite like this shirt, if you don’t mind. I guess you can come too.” Keyleth reached down to scratch between Trinket’s ears, and his tail enthusiastically battered into Percy’s shoulder.

The best thing about walking anywhere in Whitestone with Percy was that no matter where you were going, he knew the way. All Keyleth needed to do was follow as he took turns that led through an area of their neighbourhood that she’d never been in before, down streets lined with trees still against all odds clinging to the very last of their leaves. The majority of those that had fallen over autumn had by now either been turned to mulch by the rain and washed off the roads, or been swept away by the wind; winter was well and truly on its way. The sky was golden, the sun just beginning its slow descent towards the horizon, and the air was cool, but crisp. A different kind of crisp than she was used to the mountain winds of Zephrah providing, but no less enjoyable.

“ So ,” Keyleth said with about as much nondescript chill as an open flame. 

Percy looked like he was trying hard not to smile. “So.” 

“Is this just an ‘indulge Trinket in his every desire’ walk, or an ‘avoiding something at work’ walk, or a ‘something you wanted to talk to me about’ walk?” 

“Can it be all of the above?” said Percy, glancing over at her as he led them down the road, following the map in his head. He passed Trinket’s lead from his right hand to his left around the lamp post he’d been unhelpfully led around. 

“Sure,” said Keyleth, sliding her hands into her pockets. “Is it?” 

Percy chuckled. There was a twinge of sheepish amusement in it, the wry admittance of being caught out. Just like in the car, he took his time to reply. 

Keyleth didn’t mind it. It made his answers, when she received them, feel genuine.

Eventually, Percy shook his head. “Okay,” he said. “Truthfully, it was the latter. I uh - I wanted to talk to you.” Another pause (“Trink, no - drop that -”), then, with all the weight the sentence deserved, “Vex told me about Velora.”

A vague sound of understanding left Keyleth’s throat. “Are you mad I didn’t tell you on the way back?” she asked, but Percy instantly shook his head again.

“No, no. Of course not. It wasn’t ours to know, not until the twins did first.” The smile he gave her was gentler, something almost proud in it. “You did the right thing by them.” 

It was a validation Keyleth hadn’t quite realised she needed, letting out a rush of relieved breath. “Thank you,” she said softly. 

“I more actually just wanted your thoughts,” said Percy. “About Velora. About the possibility of them reconnecting with her, specifically. Plus, I kind of figured … I don’t know. Perhaps you’d want the chance to talk about it with someone who’s not either of them, but cares about them both a great deal too.”

It was difficult not to show her surprise at that, but Percy shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly, and Keyleth felt shoulder muscles she hadn’t noticed were tensed loosen a little. She’d thought about pulling Pike aside for a conversation about it, but as far as she currently knew, the twins hadn’t mentioned it to her yet. Until they did, it didn’t feel fair. She didn’t doubt that they would let Pike into this revelation, in time, but that wasn’t up to her. Percy now knew though. Plus it was clearer than ever to her just how much he loved Vex and Vax. And the reverse was also true - he was, perhaps out of everyone in Whitestone, their most trusted.

“I did think about telling you all in the car, y’know,” she told him, following him around the corner onto another neat, evenly paved street. “But I just … they never had any choice about that part of their life, you know? Going to live with Syldor in the first place, everything they had to do and who they had to be under his roof, his demands and expectations. Even them leaving wasn’t really a choice; it was the only reasonable thing they could do, and until now, looking back or going back has never been an option either. WIth Velora, I guess I just wanted to give them the chance to take whatever time and space they wanted to think about reconnecting with her. Before anyone else gets involved, they should have that choice.”

Something odd crossed Percy’s expression for the briefest of moments before slipping away. Keyleth attempted to freeze it in her memory so she could pick it apart, but the image melted from her mind before she could grasp it. Her brow furrowed, half a step behind him.

He remained quiet as they continued down the sidewalk, but it was a comfortable, pensive kind of silence. The route he was taking her on remained unfamiliar to her, but he led her past open garden gates and houses with black-and-white mosaic paths leading towards their entrances; family homes, evident from the drawings taped up at the windows and muddy boots abandoned outside the front doors. 

“Tell me what you thought of her,” Percy said, fingers curling into Trinket’s lead. “Who she was.”

She was so clear in Keyleth’s mind. So much of the twins in her curiosity, her bright, intelligent eyes, but so much of Syldor and Devana in the way she’d stood there in her no-expenses-spared playroom, dress neat as a pin, confident and determined and looking to her mother for answers, with wholehearted trust that she’d be given them. Keyleth allowed her teeth to sink into her lower lip. “She’s loved,” she said quietly. It was strange, that having been the most crucial descriptor about Velora and her life in Emon, both now and when she’d told the twins. It was rarely something that felt like it needed to be said, in most households Keyleth found herself talking about. But it had been something so profoundly absent in Vex and Vax’s adolescence that the contrast of it in Velora was staggering. There was no disputing it. The gentle hand Devana had used to smooth down her hair - her words, out in the corridor - the cracked spines of the storybooks Keyleth had seen on Syldor’s bookshelves. “So much,” she added. “I could see it immediately. And it’s not much of a surprise, the more I think about it, because she seemed to be exactly the kind of high-born daughter Syldor always wanted and that Vex tried so fucking hard to be -” The anger came roaring to life from somewhere deep in her stomach, her chest suddenly alight with it, bright and burning and infuriated with an almost childish sense of unfairness. With great effort, she kept it at bay, her voice only just trembling a little with a hint of lingering fury. “But Velora is loved, in a way neither of the twins ever were in that house.”

Percy didn’t seem remotely surprised to hear it, but she watched as his heart sank too. “That’s …”

Good , it felt like he’d been about to say, before deciding he couldn’t stomach hearing the word out loud. Because objectively, yes. Velora was a child. She had no part in any of this, and it would have been worse if she’d been as unhappy as the twins had been in Syngorn, or if Syldor was still the cruel father that Keyleth knew him as, to the sweet kid who’d looked up at her with such eager excitement and delight. But it was simultaneously salt ground into a wound; confirmation, not that it was asked for or wanted, that the love the twins had been refused was possible, just not for them. 

Keyleth swallowed. “She was sweet,” she told Percy, “Curious.”

“You think they’d like her?”

“They’d love her,” Keyleth admitted. Instantly. She had no doubt about it, if - a big if - they were to meet. It was almost a relief to say it out loud, the guilty reality that she knew neither Vex or Vax were ready to hear but that she had known the moment Velora had asked about them. They would really, truly adore her, as she already did them. But the chances of any of them getting that chance to show that to one another were slim to none, and it was the fault of a man for whom it made no difference at all either way. To Keyleth, it felt like an intensely cruel twist of the knife. 

Percy looked at her again, contemplatively, then looped Trinket’s lead an extra time around itself and tucked his hands into his coat pockets. “You know, I didn’t quite grasp how well you knew the two of them until last weekend, I don’t think. I thought I did, but it was different watching you in that house, finding your way around the halls and their bedrooms like you’d been there yesterday, talking to Syldor with such an … intimate understanding. Of him, of his ego, of his relationship to them, of how they now felt about him. All those dynamics at play and you could see all of them.” There was admiration in his voice, respect and approval, but it was something Keyleth couldn’t feel proud of knowing as well as she did. 

“I watched so much of it play out,” she said. “I was there to see it at the points that were the most desperate, I guess, and there’s only so much that time could ever make me forget.” She was proud of the teenagers they’d been, even with all their flaws and mistakes. They’d all spent so much of those years stumbling through situations that felt far too big to handle, but had somehow managed it nonetheless, making it all the way here.

Percy’s hand accidentally rustled against the bag of treats he’d snuck into his pocket before they’d left, and Trinket’s ears immediately perked up. The swivel of his head was almost comical in its speed, and he seated himself firmly on the pavement, unmoving, until Percy fished a biscuit out and tossed it to him, in a way that felt a little like him avoiding the continuation of their conversation. Only after he’d let Trinket lick his fingers clean (and dried them by ruffling fur) did they keep walking, and even then, they’d turned another corner before Percy said “They could go meet her. Not that they have to, but it’s an option.”

It sounded, oddly, like he’d had to remind his tongue how to work in order to say it. There was something strange about it. The words had an edge that felt personal, and she couldn’t work out why. 

He’d stopped short of directly asking ‘do you think that’s a good idea?’ but the question was clearly audible in the crisp air that surrounded them, and she wasn’t sure of her answer. 

“Vex always wanted a little sister,” said Keyleth with a small, reminiscent smile. “It’s funny - as teenagers, I don’t think any of us really thought much about the fact that we all came from such small families but Vex and Vax were the only ones in our group with siblings. Pike and Grog were as good as, sure, but they hadn’t lived together all that long when we became a gang. We all remembered the feeling of sort of being on our own as only children, other than the twins obviously, but none of us really minded it that much. Vax didn’t care at all, so long as he had Vex. And Vex was the same, to an extent, her and Vax are such a unit. But she always liked the idea of big families - you know, the chaotic kind you see on TV, kids left right and centre, always someone to hang out with or annoy, laughter and company in every corner of the house. Like -” She stopped talking with an entirely un-subtle, screeching halt. She had very much been about to say something that had only been shared with her for her to quietly know , not for her to bring up in conversations, and especially not with Percy.

His eyes flickered to her, thoughtful but not upset. He finished the sentence for her, quietly, but not without warmth. “Like mine.” 

Keyleth resisted every urge to look over at him with surprise, focusing on the thing that was so easy for them to talk about: Vex. “Vex was so … intrigued, when I told them. Overwhelmed and hurt and everything else in between but intrigued too, and I can see her wanting to get to know Velora. Maybe not right now, maybe not for a while. But I don’t know how she would be able to reconcile wanting that with the reality of what happened to them . So much happened in Syngorn that fucked them both up, and Vex knows Vax was right in dragging them both away from there, and from Syldor. They’ve become such incredible people here and they’ve built this amazing, impressive, good life that’s theirs , and they’re so much more at ease knowing Syldor can’t touch or influence the people they choose to be. I really can’t see Vax wanting Vex anywhere near Syngorn, and the opposite is definitely true too, but I doubt they can have any kind of relationship with Velora without being willing to let the rest of that back in.”

“You think the trade off’s too high?”

“Right now?” Keyleth thought of Velora’s excited, hopeful face and a lump settled in the back of her throat. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I think I do.”

It was so complicated. It didn’t matter what she thought, in the end, because the choice was up to the twins and the twins alone, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t tried to consider all of their options and dream up potential paths for them, for better or worse. Not that either of them had seemed to fully process the news, when she’d told them. One thing she was certain about was that no matter what, it was going to hurt.

“What about later?” Percy asked her, and Keyleth sank her teeth into her lower lip. “When it’s had time to sink in?”

That same unreadable something clouded his vision for a moment, and when he saw her clock it, he looked away. Trinket chose that moment to pull the lead taut, sniffing around the base of a tree, and when Percy stopped, it brought Keyleth to a halt too. The wall to her left was the perfect height to lean against so she did so, and she curled her fingers into her pockets, the lowering sun taking the day’s meager heat away with it as it began to duck behind the taller buildings in the distance. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was far more to this conversation than Percy was letting on, but he was asking his questions with such genuine interest and respect for her answers, so all she could do was offer him her honesty.

“It’d still be a risk,” she said quietly, looking down at Trinket as he ambled back over to them, taking a patient seat on the pavement beside them both. “One that, personally, I don’t think Vax would ever want to take. Whether Vex would take it without him, I don’t know. But one day, they might decide that those corners of their lives that Syldor’s shadow gets to darken would be worth it.”

“If it means they can have a relationship with her,” Percy said quietly.

“Yeah. At the end of the day, she’s their younger sister, and even if it’s messy and complicated and painful, none of the reasons they left had anything to do with her. In fact, in some ways, she’s everything they always wanted. If she’d been born earlier, if they’d had her in their lives, who knows whether they’d made the same choices to leave the way they did. All of this - them not knowing her - is more than anything because they needed to get the hell out of there before it was too late.”

There it was again. Harder to miss, this time. The shift of his eyes, the tight line of his lips, the tension in his shoulders.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Keyleth asked quietly with a soft directness her father would’ve been proud of.

As Percy’s gaze dipped away from hers, Keyleth made no attempt to fill the silence, but let ambient noise do it for her. The roll of car tyres against the road surface as, much further down the street, a car pulled into a driveway. The leafless rustle of tree branches, the song of the sparrows perched on the telephone wires up above, the faint huffs of Trinket’s breath. For a second, it felt like being up on the roof with the twins, the moment before Velora’s name had left her mouth. Then -

“I have a sister,” Percy admitted, quietly. Keyleth’s surprise was poorly hidden, and Percy gave her a sort of half-grimace. “I, uh - Vex said she told you about my family?”

“Briefly,” Keyleth said. “Not this though.”

“No, she wouldn’t have. It’s complicated. We were the only two of our family who weren’t on the plane that went down, but we were both so young and so lost and broken that there was only so much we could lean on each other. Long story short, I ended up entangled in a lot of shit in the few years after everyone died, and it was …” He let out a trembling breath, eyes shutting for the briefest of moments. “It cost me everything to get away from it all, but I had to walk away from her, too.” 

His expression held a depth, an ache, that felt like it belonged to a drunken 2am rooftop conversation rather than a quiet residential street in the heart of Whitestone before the sun had even really started setting. Keyleth was certain the faint, haunted vulnerability hovering at the corners of his eyes wasn’t intended for her to see, and in a way, that made it so much worse. Every word of this was an unmistakable understatement, given the heaviness the words had held as they left Percy’s lips.

He swallowed. “I haven’t had any contact with her since the day I left, but I’ve been vaguely thinking about reaching out,” he said quietly. “The twins have - well, had - been nudging me in that direction.”

That admission too had the weight of the world behind it. 

“That’s entirely up to you,” Keyleth told him honestly. “Just like this is their choice above all else, it’s yours too.”

He tilted his head in something vaguely reminiscent of a nod, albeit an uncertain one. “It’s the wading back in part that’s always stopped me. It took a lot of time to piece myself back together after walking away, and I never want to risk losing that. I don’t know if I could survive it the second time.”

“I think that might be the same case for them too,” Keyleth agreed, “I’m not sure. Regardless of how much Velora wants to be part of their life, and vice versa, there’s such an overwhelming hurt attached for them, and the man they so desperately needed to get away from is still right there. It sounds like you know what that feels like. There’s so much to gain but when the high price on the other side of it is just this terrifying, looming maybe , no one knows. And with the twins - hell, I’d rather they stayed away from Syldor. Vex has maybe built the right kind of armour, but Vax -” Keyleth paused, the thought sending a shiver through her. Everything he’d become, everything she was proudest of, would be more cause for Syldor’s loathing. Percy’s renewed grimace was clear evidence that his thoughts had followed the same path as hers, and she sighed. “But maybe it would be worth it  - I don’t know, and it’s not really for me to say. For them, or for you. But if any of you decide it’s not, and you want to keep hold of the things you know are safe and real , you should know that the people who love you are never going to judge you for that. Regardless of how much your sisters might want you to be a part of their lives.”

Percy’s vision was a little clouded again, as if he couldn’t quite see through the gears ticking into place, but that was hardly a surprise. He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly, and Keyleth’s lips quirked up into a gentle, light smile. 

“One more time with feeling?” she said softly, just the faintest hint of a tease in the words, enough that the corner of Percy’s lips tugged faintly upwards too.

“Yeah, I … “ his tongue wet his lips, and he swallowed again. “I hear you.” He looked uncharacteristically young, just for a moment. His glasses dusty at the edges after a long day of work, his posture looser than usual, an imperfect aristocrat standing at the streetside in a nondescript part of the city he grew up loving. “I just hate not being able to predict what would happen,” he admitted.

“I know,” Keyleth said. “Believe me, that’s something that I understand. But you can predict that no matter what happens, you’ll always have your own choices. Nobody can take that away from you.” She reached out, touched his wrist lightly. “And you’ll always have us.” 

Percy nodded, gratitude in his eyes even as he couldn’t seem to get the words out this time. 

Trinket, clearly having decided for them that the conversation was over, rose from the ground and shook himself, then let out a whine, looking between them both expectantly. His body rubbed against Percy’s legs when he moved, and he did a lap around Percy before sitting back at his feet, eyes wide and expressive, head cocked to the side. Percy huffed softly, and crouched in front of him. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ll get the rest of your walk, I promise.” 

Trinket darted forward to give Percy a thorough lick across his face, almost knocking him off his feet in the process, but although Percy’s laugh was a little coarse, it was warm, and fond. He pulled a small handful of treats out of his pocket and made Trinket wait, then gave him far more of them than Vex would approve of.

“You’re a good boy,” Keyleth said fondly, scratching the top of Trinket’s head once he was done scoffing treats and dribbling on the pavement. 

“The best,” Percy agreed, standing back up. Then, once Trinket had begun to continue on down the road - “Thank you,” Percy said quietly. He ran his free hand through his hair, oddly reminding her a little of Vax with the motion. “Fuck. Sorry, this wasn’t how I expected this conversation to go.”

“Don’t apologise.”

A gentle breeze traipsed down the street, brushing against the loose strands of hair around Keyleth’s shoulders and carrying a few small twigs and a scrunched flyer a little further down the path. (“Don’t even think about it,” Percy muttered darkly, when Trinket’s eyes darted from the crumpled paper up to him, then back to the paper, mouth open and tongue dangling out. Keyleth couldn’t help but smile.)

“What’s her name?” Keyleth asked a little later, once Trinket had been spoilt rotten with puppy ice cream and a game of fetch, and they were headed back towards the house, dusk rapidly approaching as pinks and purples melted into deep blues. 

“Cassandra,” Percy said softly.

When Keyleth repeated it back to him, he smiled.