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Keyleth has a lot of thoughts about what happened at the Raven Queen's tomb.
They are not the nicest of thoughts. They make it hard for her to sleep, a cold sensation seeping through her lungs and her heart until it feels like it stops beating.
She had watched Vex die.
She had watched Vax give her life for her.
Vex had shaken it off, like it was nothing, like dying was just another regular day in her life. It makes Keyleth angry.
It’s not a feeling she’s very accustomed to, she tries to go about life on a more positive note, but it is better than the despair that creeps at the back of her mind whenever she thinks about her friends —her family— dying. It is better than the thought that she might outlive them all.
As much as she loves her people, they don’t feel like a family in the way Vox Machina does. There’s a sense of community with the Ashari, sure, but there’s also a sense of duty Keyleth can’t quite shake off, and it makes her shoulders sag with the weight of it.
A weight Vox Machina usually helps relieve.
Not now, though. Now, Keyleth pulls back, draws back in on herself. She’d tried to talk to the twins, but they’re each dealing with things their own way, and Keyleth respects that — even if she doesn’t agree with their coping mechanisms.
She’d try talking to Percy, but she can see the guilt that twists his face every time he so much as looks at Vex. He’s dealing with his own issues.
So, even though she isn’t alone alone, she certainly feels that way. Even though her friends are right there , beside her, she feels like she’s miles away — drowning in the ocean while they’re on shore and don’t seem to notice her at all.
She watches, almost distantly, through the haze that clouds her mind, as Vex and Percy grow closer together. There are more arrows, and more flirting, and Keyleth wants to be happy for them, but she can’t. She supposes she might be, deep down, but any time she looks at them she can’t help but think about herself and Vax — about how distant they’ve been.
It’s not only that they’ve been distant, but it’s also that they’re completely off beat. She tries to reach out to him at all the wrong moments, and he as well — a constant push and pull that leaves Keyleth more and more exhausted each time.
She’s unable to sleep, one night, so she makes her way out of the castle and towards the Sun Tree, careful not to wake anyone up. She places her hand on it, the rough bark against her soft skin is a feeling that comforts her for a few seconds, and she sighs.
She sits at the base of it, legs crossed and hair pushed back by the gentle breeze. She closes her eyes and tries to meditate, to leave her mind blank just like her father taught her.
Her meditation doesn’t last long, however. She’s interrupted by a rough, sleep-laden voice calling out her name. She opens her eyes to find Vex there, standing off to the side, uncertain — which is an entirely new look on her. Keyleth is not sure how she feels about it.
They just stand there for a moment and it’s awkward and Keyleth doesn’t know what to say and Vex won’t meet her gaze. Eventually, she sits down next to Keyleth. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, unable to get the words out.
But then they talk. They talk about life and death and everything Keyleth has had pressing down on her chest until she can barely breathe. It feels like a weight has been lifted, if only slightly. She doesn’t feel as much like she’s drowning anymore.
Vex tucks a strand of hair behind Keyleth’s ear and everything feels perfectly okay for a few moments.
Of course, the feeling doesn’t last. There are still, after all, things that worry her, things which interrupt her sleep every night.
For the first time in her life, Keyleth doesn’t want to dream.
It’s a thought that troubles Keyleth, whenever she actually stops to think about it, which is not often.
Practically never, actually.
She’s pacing around Whitestone one morning — bags dark under her eyes and skin pale with the lack of sunlight — when Percy calls out to her. You look unwell, he says, in that matter-of-fact tone of his. She thinks he means for it to sound non-judgemental, but it sends Keyleth into a panic — and that chilled feeling that creeps at the back of her mind starts growing again.
It’s not like he’s been sleeping much either since everything happened. Keyleth wants to comment on it, defensiveness forcing its way out of her like something that’s been held underwater. She manages to keep it in, though, because, after all, she thinks she understands what he’s going through. He’s just trying to reach out to her.
She lets him.
They talk for hours. He tells her about Vex, confirms what Keyleth already suspected, and this time, she does feel happy for them. He tells her about guilt, about despair and how miserable he’s been feeling ever since.
And then, to Keyleth’s surprise, he tells her about Vax. He tells her about how Vax’s smile catches his eye and how there’s this new, not entirely unfamiliar feeling fluttering in his gut and how he doesn’t think Vax will want to speak to him ever again.
They hug, for what feels like days. Keyleth cries a little; the weight eases off even more, as does the pressure on her chest. She feels alright.
She tells Percy things, too. She talks to him about Vax, not that he didn’t know already, and she tells him about the weight and how she feels like she’s drowning and how she dreams of the twins, lifeless and bloodied with a Goddess looming over them. Percy is an excellent listener and it’s exactly what Keyleth needs.
She tells him about Vex, too, but it doesn’t catch Percy by surprise the way his confession had her. She tells him about how Vex makes her stomach flutter and her heart smile.
When Keyleth leaves his workshop that day, she feels lighter than she has in a long time, almost like she’s floating. She still has nightmares, but they’re few and far in between, and she has Percy to talk about them now. She catches a glance of the twins hugging, talking quietly in one of the many hallways of this place, and she can’t wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the day.
Things start to look up.
Then she finds herself alone in a room with Vax.
Vax, who’s been brooding and quiet. Vax, who lost a sister. Vax, who gave his life away.
And it’s not that she doesn’t want to be around Vax, she just doesn’t know how to be around him. It’s almost like she can feel his anger, his sadness, his everything , and it’s a lot on top of her own feelings.
They stare at each other. Keyleth isn’t sure what to say, so she panics, the pressure on her chest coming back full force and hitting her all too fast and then she’s crying, and he’s holding her, and he’s crying, too, quietly. She strokes his hair.
When they talk, it’s in short, broken sentences, and by the time they’re done spilling their guts, Keyleth kisses him on the cheek.
It’s not that she doesn’t love him, it’s that she doesn’t know how.
She wants to, though. She thinks that maybe she can learn.
He knows about her feelings for Vex, too, because apparently, Keyleth isn’t nearly as subtle as she thought. It makes Keyleth happy, though, to see him talk about Vex with a smile on his face. Being here, with him, makes Keyleth happy.
She hasn’t been happy for a long time.
So, even though she felt like she was drowning — and still does, sometimes — she finds some comfort when she’s able to. She finds comfort in Vax’s arms and in Percy’s workshop and in Vex’s bed, and she finds comfort in the battlefield, with her family by her side.
She finds comfort because maybe they do get her, in their own ways. She thinks she loves them for it.
They are her family.
And, she thinks, although they are a bit broken, they’ll always find a way to come back together.