Critical Toll

She waits nervously as Vex finishes whatever reports she's working on at Percy's request. She goes over her plan, hoping for the best outcome, but fearing that she's going to wind up needing the bag she's packed with all of her necessities. There are notes ready to be delivered to Percy and Pike if she does end up returning to Zephrah tonight.

Maybe she should plan to go back anyway; it's been some time since she's set foot in her home. Then, at least, it might feel like more of a plan than a hasty retreat. The anxiety burrowing deeper into her chest makes it feel more and more obvious that she's not going to get the answer she wants tonight.

"Alright, darling," Vex says, setting aside her pen with a little toss and then getting up to face Keyleth properly. Her smile is small, but genuine. It's the one she keeps for her closest friends, for Keyleth, not the shallow political one that Keyleth's grown accustomed to seeing lately.

Maybe there's some hope after all.

"What can I help you with, Kiki?" Vex asks, angling her head inquisitively.

She's so pretty, it's not fair.

Keyleth swallows heavily and steps toward the bed, gesturing at it. "Sit with me?" Her tone is forcibly light and airy and, of course, Vex sees through it immediately.

"This doesn't sound good," Vex comments, but she strides forward and they sit together on the edge of the bed. Keyleth bends one knee and lets the other leg dangle off the side, trying for a little comfort in this anguished time.

"I hope it's good," Keyleth says softly.

"What's wrong?" Vex asks, brows furrowing, eyes narrowing, like the antagonistic spectre is in the room with them already.

Well, Keyleth supposes. It kind of is.

"Nothing's wrong," Keyleth assures her. Only once the words leave her lips does she wonder if she is, in fact, lying. "I just wanted to check in with you."

"What about?" Vex demands. Her hackles are rising, defenses climbing into place. Keyleth can see it happen before her very eyes.

"Us," Keyleth says simply.

"Us?" Vex asks, confused, her hackles lowering.

Keyleth nods. "Us," she repeats. Then, soft, almost a whisper, "It's been two years."

Vex's face goes blank and her whole body stiffens. Keyleth tries to stifle the disappointment gnawing on her bones. It shouldn't have to be this hard. They'd been halfway to getting together before Vax had even bargained for Vex's life, yet here they remain, together, but separate.

"I don't want to talk about it, Keyleth," Vex says stonily.

Keyleth manages to keep the sigh inside, but it's a close call. As nice as her name sounds coming out of Vex's mouth, being anything other than Kiki or darling is a portent Keyleth knows all too well. "I'm not looking for a ring or a date or anything right now," Keyleth says.

"Not now, Keyleth." Vex is stern, full of conviction and a righteousness Keyleth envies at times.

"Then when, Vex?" Keyleth asks. She doesn't want to hurt Vex, doesn't want to ignore her wishes, but, dang it, Keyleth has hurts and wishes, too. And they're not unimportant.

Vex's nostrils flare. "Later," she promises vaguely.

"When?" Keyleth asks again, her future hanging on the word.

The silence between them speaks volumes. She knows Vex hates lying to her, but Vex's lack of response says everything Keyleth needs to know.

"Alright," Keyleth relents. She doesn't want to push too hard. "Then I'm just here to let you know I'll be out of town for a few weeks," Keyleth says and then quickly adds, "maybe a few months."

"What?" Vex snaps, eyes a little wild, her jaw tensing. Keyleth can almost see the ferocity roaring to life in Vex's chest. "I don't want to talk about it right now so you're running away?"

Keyleth winces. It's harsh. It's not untrue, not exactly, but it's a lot more than that. There's a flicker at the corner of one of Vex's eyes—a sliver of regret, but not enough to make her walk the words back. Maybe once upon a time, Keyleth would've thought she deserved a comment like that, that tone of voice, but not now. Not for this.

"You never want to talk about it," Keyleth says gently. "I've been hoping that you will, but…" Keyleth trails off, wondering how best to phrase it. She shrugs, a little helplessly. "That kinda seems like answer enough."

"It's too soon," Vex argues, voice sharp.

"Then when will it stop being too soon?" Keyleth implores. She shakes her head. "You're acting like I was his girlfriend for longer than a week before the Raven Queen took him."

"So you loved him less, then?" Vex asks harshly. "You must not have loved him enough if you're already looking to move on."

That lights a fire in Keyleth's gut. "Just like you didn't love me enough and went off with Percy—"

"That's not fair," Vex cuts in. "That's not the same."

"Why not?" Keyleth demands. "Because I remember asking you if there was something between us and you said yes, but that it didn't matter." Keyleth's shaking with the emotion of the memory, the way she'd gone to Vex a supplicant and been turned away like she'd hallucinated every graze and longing look. "You said I was already his."

"You were," Vex retorts. "You are," she adds.

"So that's still it, then? Despite the two years we've spent living in this house together, despite how much we've helped each other through the grief, or I thought we had," Keyleth says. "You still think I belong to him," Keyleth let's out an indignant huff. "I've never belonged to either of you," she corrects. "I've wanted you, sure, I've loved you, absolutely, but there has never been ownership, Vex'ahlia."

Vex jerks back less than inch, like the words landed as a physical blow she couldn't quite ignore.

"We talked about someday," Keyleth reminds her. "Vax wished us well, do you remember that?"

Vex purses her lips together.

Keyleth lets out a shaky breath, her hands trembling with the nerves and adrenaline suddenly running hot through her body.

"He said someday," Vex finally agrees tightly. "And you didn't even want to wait until he was gone to start something." She shakes her head in clear disappointment. "He was my brother," Vex stresses. "Maybe we both lost him, but I lost the other half of myself," Vex explains. "What did you lose?"

That's—

That's the worst fucking thing Vex has ever said to her, and there have been some real shitty things over the years.

Keyleth is done with this conversation. She's done with trying so hard, hanging on too long. She stands up, trying not to let Vex see how affronted she is, how insulted, because that's why she said it. Because she wanted Keyleth to hurt about it. It's petty, sure, but Keyleth doesn't want her to know how much she succeeded.

"I hope you regret that," Keyleth says roughly. Her hands have curled into fists, unnoticed until she realises her knuckles are hurting with how tightly she scrunches them. "If you find my friend," Keyleth says angrily. "The Vex'ahlia that I love and who I thought loved me, too? Get her to message me."

Keyleth turns on her heel and pulls the door shut loudly behind her.

VM-VM-VM

Keyleth has been in Zephrah for two months and she hasn't heard a word from Vex'ahlia.

She tries to remind herself that she chose this, that knowing there's nothing for them is better than holding onto false hope, but it's hard. It's hard because the world feels wrong without her, even here. There are so many places where Vex's absence is debilitating. She should be beside her in the kitchen, grumbling about washing dishes and asking if Keyleth's sure she doesn't have a spell that could take care of the clean-up for them.

Vex should be on the other side of the kitchen table, at her side walking down the street, to her right during meetings that should've been a letter at most. She should be on the other side of Keyleth's bed. She wound up there often enough back in Whitestone that Keyleth had made the mistake of growing acccustomed to it.

Percy and Pike have been in contact, at least, though they've gravitated to opposite ends of the breakup spectrum. Although, is it even a breakup if they were never even together? Pike makes a concerted effort not to mention Vex at all. If she does, it's vague and unnamed and predominantly subtext. Percy, on the other hand, has started including a section at the bottom of each letter telling her what Vex is up to and that they should both stop "being unbelievably stupid."

It feeds the ache in her chest, the unfillable hole of longing for Vex, but he wouldn't be Percy if he took a different approach.

No, her and Vex are done. Whatever they might've been remains as untapped possibility. Keyleth hopes, one day, that they'll be friends—preferably close friends—again. Although, being close friends is what doomed them in the first place. How could Keyleth not have fallen in love with her after getting to know her so well?

So, maybe just regular friends. At a distance.

It's probably for the best, anyway. As productive as she'd been in Whitestone, she can't contest the fact that there's still lots to be done here at home. She's making progress, but the one thing she could live without is the almost royal deference shown to her just because she's the Voice of the Tempest. It's exhausting. At least in Whitestone, most of the time she could just be Keyleth—clumsy, awkward Keyleth—without any sort of fuss.

She can focus here with no distractions, though. It's quieter, too. Prettier with the fields and the sunrises and sunsets that stretch for miles.

Keyleth waves a lazy hand toward the flower box outside of her office window and smiles a little when the flowers perk up, growing taller, prouder.

Someone knocks at her door and Keyleth sighs. So much for a brief moment's respite.

"Yes, come in," Keyleth invites, moving away from the window to sit back down in the sculpted cherry wood chair.

Derrig pokes his head in. "The Voice of the Tempest," Derrig greets and she can't help but smile. No matter what she does, he refuses to refer to her as anything else. "There's a guest here to see you from Whitestone."

Keyleth frowns. "Percy? He didn't tell me he—"

Derrig shakes his head. "No, it's Vex'ahlia here to see you, Voice of the Tempest."

Vex'ahlia.

Here?

"If I let her in here, will you please call me Keyleth instead?" Keyleth asks.

She can see the way Derrig fights a smile, but he shakes his head. "You're The Voice of the Tempest," Derrig answers, like that's all there is to it.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Keyleth runs her fingers over the smooth arm of her chair. "Did she say why she's here?"

"No, Voice of the Tempest." He's staring at her expectantly.

Keyleth understands his well-hidden confusion. Over the years, Vex has visited on rare occasion, but she's always been quickly invited in. There's part of her that wants to strive for that kind of normalcy, to invite Vex in like old times and pretend they never meant anything more to each other than friends.

The louder, more stubborn part of her wants to ignore her, avoid her in the same way Vex did, refusing to talk to her.

"How does she look?" Keyleth asks instead, softly.

Derrig steps inside and the door closes behind him. "Determined," he says. "But paler than I've seen her. Thinner, maybe."

Keyleth nods, mostly to herself. "Alright, yes, let her in, please."

Derrig turns and leaves.

If anything, Keyleth has a couple of minutes before Vex appears. As long as it takes for Derrig to return downstairs to the entryway and fetch her.

Maybe before, Keyleth would've been flustered, would've rushed around to try and make herself and her space more presentable.

But she doesn't have it in her right now. She's already tired emotionally just knowing that Vex is here at all. She'll be a big girl about it and then later, once they've dealt with whatever Vex is here for, she'll go visit her dad. Maybe she can bribe him to make that crumble he used to make when she was a kid. Eating a pan of that would probably fix her. Or at least give her something else to worry about instead.

Three knocks echo from the door before it opens. "Vex'ahlia Vessar, Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt," Derrig says quickly as he enters, Vex in close step behind. "I'll be just downstairs if you need me, Voice of the Tempest," Derrig says with a nod and then leaves.

Keyleth's not really paying him much attention, though, because Vex… Vex is in front of her. She's here. Something eases in Keyleth's chest. And Derrig's right, she looks paler, more tired. The dark shadows under her eyes are covered-up, but Keyleth knows Vex well enough to recognise the shade of them. Her clothes are hanging off of her a little more, too. Not obviously, not in a deeply concerning way, but enough that Keyleth has to bite her tongue to keep from asking about it.

"Hello," Keyleth greets, pressing her fingers harder into the wood to channel the sudden anxiety. It's a stark contrast to the relief that washed over her as soon as Vex stepped inside, as soon as Keyleth confirmed with her own eyes that Vex is here, that Vex is alright.

Eyes intent on Keyleth, Vex says, "Hi, Kiki."

Keyleth tries not to flinch. Maybe it's a little too soon for that much intimacy, for that nickname. She clears her throat. "What brings you here, Vex'ahlia?" Diplomatic. Polite. All the things Percy tried to instill in her and only some of which ever stuck.

Vex nods slightly. "Yeah, I deserve that," she says. Keyleth watches as Vex's index finger and thumb rub against each other at her side, an anxious habit Keyleth's always found endearing on the rare occasions when it appears.

Keyleth softens a little. "What's going on, Vex?"

A half-smile tugs at Vex's lips. "What if I came to apologise?"

Keyleth blinks. "Apologise?" she checks.

Vex nods again. "I was something of an ass when we last spoke," she admits.

Oh. Well, maybe Keyleth doesn't have to wait years for them to be friends again. As long as they take it slow and she can have enough time removed from Vex to finish the labourious task of unthreading Vex from her thoughts, it sounds nice.

"It's not like you were the only one to say some shitty things," Keyleth allows. After all, it's all about compromise.

"Maybe," Vex says. "But I certainly went for the jugular for no fucking reason."

Keyleth gives her an uneasy smile. "Yeah, well, you're still hurting."

"That doesn't grant me licence to hurt you," Vex says. "I'm sorry, Keyleth," Vex's voice is contrite and even with her first name, it doesn't hurt to hear, not like the last time. "You didn't deserve any of that," Vex continues. "And if… Vax… had been here, he would've raked me over the coals for how I treated you," she says, only stumbling slightly over his name.

It's an improvement. For a long time, Keyleth wasn't sure Vex would ever be able to utter his name again.

The smile Keyleth tries for this time is much better. "Thanks, Vex," she says. "I'm sorry, too."

Vex's eyes go tight. "Er, well, I know I fucked things up between us," she starts and then pauses. "Romantically," she clarifies. "And I'm not trying to get that back on the table," she hurries to add. "Pelor knows I don't deserve the chance," she murmurs. "But I really liked being your friend, Kiki, and I'd like to be again, if you'll allow it." Vex shifts her weight, but her voice is steady around the words.

Keyleth doesn't know what to say. There's so much to unpack there that she has no idea where to start.

"I miss you," Vex confesses in a hushed tone after several seconds of silence.

"I miss you, too, Vex," Keyleth returns automatically—because it's true. But her mind is elsewhere, caught somewhere between Pelor and chance.

Is that—no. No, that's not what Vex is alluding to. It can't be. She's not ready. She hasn't been ready. There's no way on this green Exandria that somehow two months could change that so drastically.

"Just friends?" Keyleth checks and Vex's smile turns pained, but she nods.

"Just friends," Vex agrees, though her voice is strained.

"Ah," Keyleth says, more a noise than a word, disappointment abundant. Still. Better than no Vex at all, right?

"I mean—" Vex chimes in, "—if somehow—always friends, of course—but—if you wanted—"

It's kind of adorable, the way that Keyleth can still make her trip over her words. Not many people can.

"If I wanted?" Keyleth prompts, hoping it will help settle Vex's thoughts down enough to finish her sentence.

"I just—I'm sure the ship has sailed," Vex says ruefully, "but you know I'm in love with you, right?" Vex shrugs a little. "Probably always will be, at least a little bit, but that doesn't mean we can't be friends."

Every possible response, every word in every language Keyleth's ever learned, evaporates from her consciousness at this moment. Because she used to know, she did, that Vex loved her. She knew that, once upon a time, even though Vex had never quite managed to say it aloud. Which was okay, because Keyleth could read between the lines sometimes and once Percy pointed out evidence, she could find more of it in the same vein.

"Now?" Keyleth manages to get out, half-choked.

Repentance is clear across Vex's face. "Shit timing, I know," she admits. "If I could've gotten my head out of my ass two months ago, maybe we'd still be on the same page about that."

Mistaking Keyleth's stunned silence for something else, Vex goes on. "Like I said, my fault. Been doing a lot of soul searching lately, according to Pike, and, well, I know life is shittier without you in it, so I'd love to be friends, Kiki."

Keyleth can't hear anything else out of her mouth. There's too much already circling her brain, but she has Vex back—in some capacity, at least—and she can't stop herself. She barrels forward, thunking into Vex and wrapping her up in a hug.

Vex goes rigid at first, with the shock of it, Keyleth would bet, but then she melts right into the embrace, pulling Keyleth tight against her. It feels like old times, like graspign for a lifeline. It's almost like, somehow, hugging each other tight enough will undo the damage of the last couple of months.

Vex is soft and smells like pine sap and vanilla. Keyleth tries to take in as much of her as she can.

"I've missed you so much," Vex breathes into Keyleth's neck.

"I've missed you, too," Keyleth mumbles, burying her nose in Vex's hair. She feels warm all over, her muscles relaxing as Vex holds her, and Keyleth decides that it's only fair if she offers up something, too, for all this vulnerability that Vex has gifted her.

"We can be friends for now," Keyleth says quietly, holding on tight while Vex freezes as she parses the words. "But maybe in the future, we should revisit that conversation you never wanted to have."

Vex leans back, eyes wide and shining. She chuckles wetly. "I want to have that conversation with you," she promises. "Whenever you're ready."

Keyleth pulls Vex back in and the world starts to feel right once more.