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It is not dawn yet. The sky is still too dark, it is still too cold. The sun is not here yet.
The sun is not here yet.
It’s Percy’s watch. Keyleth turned in for the night about half an hour ago, nudging his shoulder to rouse him. He was already awake, though, and took his post by a weathered pine as Keyleth slumped onto the ground beside Vex.
Vex’ahlia was alive.
Her chest rose and fell, cheek resting on her palm, the faint whistle of her breath inaudible from this far away and the warmth of Vex’s lung-heated air invisible with how she was nestled in on herself. Keyleth forgave him. It was an accident, of course. She was no stranger to those, she said when he’d apologized for accidentally killing the woman Kiki obviously fancied. She’d hugged him and warned him to just be super duper careful next time.
He’d apologized to her before-
Another pang struck Percy’s heart when he looked past the women to see a dark silhouette with familiar brown hair.
His face still ached. He deserved it, he thought. It was an idiot move to poke around like that. But… Vax hadn’t even spoken to him after that.
Percy sighed, his breath misting the air in front of his face.
Don’t hurt Vex. That was Vax’s rule from the moment Percy showed up. You hurt me, I’ll fight you, but you hurt my sister? That’s it.
No banter before they turned in for the night, no quips about whatever horrors awaited. Keyleth was his best friend, they were all his closest friends, but Vax was different. Vax was exciting, sneaky and cunning and… cool. Calming. There was a pleasantness to him he didn’t see in anyone else. An admiration, even, for his wiles and affable character towards the party. Towards Percy.
Like a candle, that affability towards Percy was snuffed out.
He didn’t- Percy leaned against the tree and watched the sky- he didn’t know why he’d expected anything different from Vax, or even if he really expected any of this because why the Hells would he be pondering a scenario in which he killed Vex by accident or otherwise? He’d casually pondered scenarios in which something killed someone, because that was a very real possibility as an adventurer. It was a saddening possibility, but he knew he’d at least have the others to lean on.
He’d at least-
Percy grimaced.
He’d at least have Vax to look forward to, unless he died.
Do I normally think about him this much? Percy huffed. Heavens.
A gentle whisper of wind through the pine’s branches called Percy’s attention upwards. During his time here, Percy noticed, the sky had slowly turned from deep azure to wine-dark. The stars shone more faintly than before, as if closing their curtains and turning out their lights for rest.
The gray mist of Percy’s breath billowed in front of him again.
It was not daybreak yet.
Percy squinted at the stars, making out a faint constellation. He forgot what this one was called, its name dancing on the tip of his tongue.
It resembled the string of lights strung around the Sun Tree at Highsummer, he thought. A grand swirl of light like a cat’s tail coiled ‘round its master’s leg.
He smiled.
Highsummer.
He remembered Highsummer in Whitestone.
He remembered Yennen, lecturing the city about the Dawnfather’s blessings and light, he remembered himself and and his family in their best attire, he remembered Vesper’s dancing, he remembered his mother’s smile as Father wrapped his arms around her and her laugh when he sneaked pretty jewelry into her pockets as a present. Those moments, snapshots of days gone by, slowly bloomed in his chest and warmed him like good wine.
He’d wanted to take Vox Machina back to celebrate when the time came.
Maybe he could, when the dragons were gone.
Keyleth would love to see the Sun Tree in its decorated glory, Pike and Grog could drink as much ale and be as rowdy as they wished, Scanlan would find some unfortunate bachelor or bachelorette to drag away for the night, Vex could embark on one of their special Highsummer hunts, Vax-
Would Vax even want to go?
The stars twinkled.
Yennen often spoke, during her Highsummer services, of how our most treasured gifts should be the people beside us. Of how, out of all of Pelor’s gifts, our community should be one of the greatest.
Percy cast another glance at Vax's sleeping form.
He’d rather have Vax forgive him than any other present.
It was selfish to think so. Incredibly selfish. But damn it, Percy was a bit selfish. He was selfish when he made his pepperbox, he was selfish when he hid things from his party, he was selfish-
He was lost.
All but one of his companions as close at hand as before today, and arguably all but the one he most desired. He was… he was stuck. One maddening piece away from a complete puzzle, and the gaping hole growing bigger by the minute and hollowing Percy out with it.
He needed someone to talk to, but nobody was awake. He couldn’t disrupt the group further, either, not without-
“Never feel afraid to ask the Dawnfather for guidance,” Yennen had said.
Percy didn’t really pray, his family was religious but he wasn’t exceedingly so. Even after retaking Whitestone he didn’t consider himself devout.
Besides that, what would he even say? Percy scoffed. I accidentally killed my friend’s sister, can you help him forgive me because I really want him to? How did he think that would go over?
Prayer hadn't meant much during his imprisonment. Why would it mean anything now?
In the corner of his eye, he saw Vax shift in his sleep.
Percy watched.
Stared.
Looked away.
Said and thought nothing.
…
Can you…
No.
He’s…
I would…
Percy fixated on his feet.
Please let him know how sorry I am.
Please… Please keep us all safe on our journey. Especially Vex’ahlia. Especially him.
Please forgive me, and gift me with the forethought to never make these mistakes again.
And please, if you are listening, please tell Vax’ildan how much I care for him. How much I enjoy his presence, even if he does not enjoy mine. How much I promise to be more careful. How much I-
He swallowed, memories and moments and jokes and emotions all swelling in his throat.
How much I adore him.
Percy closed his eyes and breathed deeply, the cold air stinging him.
“Please,” he whispered.
He cracked his eyes open to stare at the horizon, hopeless but hopeful for a something, an anything. Maybe. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
It is not dawn yet. The sky is still too dark, it is still too cold. The sun is not here yet.
The sun is not here yet.