#citf

Chapter 1:  Funeral of a mob boss is not the best place to reconnect.

Chapter 2 :  Late night car rides can be special.

Chapter 3: Holding grudges can end badly.

Chapter 4 : Living in denial is easy.

Chapter 5: Family is always complicated.

Chapter 6: Truce can come easily.

Chapter 7 : Not everyone has to be friends.

Chapter 8 : Hostility tends to be subtle.

Chapter 9: Drunk decisions are dangerous.

Chapter 10 : Disrespect has consequences.

Chapter 11 : Making the right choice isn’t always easy.

Chapter 12 : Ex friends are supposed to play nice.

Chapter 13: Secrets lead to confessions.

Chapter 14: Morning after can’t be avoided.

Chapter 15: New relationships can cause new problems.

Chapter 16 : All fights have an aftermath.

Chapter 17: Even small actions can mean a lot.

Chapter 18: Kindness can be a deception.

Chapter 19: Every secret eventually comes out.

Chapter 20 : When it rains, it pours.

Chapter 21: It’s silent before the storm.

Chapter 22: Then, the storm hits.

Chapter 23: Aftermath of a break up is never easy.

Chapter 24 : Chaos can appear out of nowhere.

Chapter 25: Everyone has a breaking point.

Chapter 26: It all becomes clear in the morning.

Chapter 27: Past catches up with people.

Chapter 28 : All families have issues.

Chapter 29: Answers cause more questions.

Chapter 30: Every family has its secrets.

Chapter 31: History repeats itself.

Chapter 32: Explanations can’t fix the past.

Chapter 33 : Danger hits out of nowhere.

Chapter 34 : Vengeance can be bloody.

Chapter 35: Some people are meant to be together.

Epilogue - Bucky

Alternate Epilogue - Alex

 She wants to pull him in and hug him tight but it’s cold as all hell on the lookout post so they climb back down into the cabin, with the roaring fire and Trinket’s cuddles, and the stew that smells better and better every moment. Vex’s stomach rumbles.

 “You should text Pike and Grog,” Vax offers. “And Cassandra. Maybe they want company for Winter’s Crest.”

     We don’t need company    , she almost says, but she doesn’t.

 He was always the one to pull her out of the woods to see people, any sort of people. He would come and wait for her in a clearing, wait to take her home after they’d both escaped once again from the watching Syngornian eyes.

 He was the one that surrounded himself with people. He was willing to take the judgment, in exchange for the companionship. All she ever wanted was him.

 “I’ll do that,” she says instead. Vax is right. He always is. They’re all displaced orphans here, might as well do it all together. She’s slightly curious to see how Whitestone celebrates, and how Westrunn does too, through Pike and Grog.

 They’ve only known Winter’s Crest in Byroden, really. And as such, Syldor Vessar had excised it from their lives when he’d gotten a hold of them. Just like everything else their mother had touched.

 Fucking hypocrite. As if he didn’t fuck her in the first place. Children are rarely born without the parents’ presence and relative participation, even in this world of magic.

 An old, comfortable anger rises within her, a companion almost as constant as Vax. Every time she thinks of all of what she’s lost, what they’ve lost, because of their father, her vision goes red.

 She tries to distract herself with the thoughts of discovering what Winter’s Crest is like when it’s not just the two of them, when it’s also other people that are not related to them. It sounds almost pleasant.

 Every bone in her fucking body is yelling at her not to call these people, the people who might just become her friends if she spends enough time around them. They don’t need people. It’s just the two of them, it’s always been.

 She had enough of an issue with Gilmore, at first, even if he was far away, even if Vax barely saw him when she was recovering back in Syngorn and he spent every waking moment by her side.

 She can’t lose Vax again, to Gilmore or to these people or to anything else. The idea of him leaving her opens a gaping hole in her chest. She thought she’d gotten rid of it. She thought that being out here alone would help, that she was stronger now, free of the horrifying pit of anxiety that follows her when her twin doesn’t walk in step with her.

 But he’s going to go. In a few days, he’ll drive back down to Westrunn. She could keep him here with a clever lie, with a desperate plea for him not to abandon her, but that would be cruel. Vax loves Gilmore. He loves him, perhaps as much as he loves Vex. And she’s always been a selfish girl, that’s public knowledge, but she’s not cruel. Not that much, anyway.

 Vex grabs her phone, before she lets herself chicken out, and texts them all. Tomorrow, for Winter’s Crest, they’ll all gather and spend the afternoon together. They’ll see what the city has to offer on a cheerful day. How the ghosts haunting it might be pushed back just for one day.

 The stew is good. Vax is surprisingly good at cooking. They eat, feed Trinket, do the dishes and get the cabin back together. Vax can be a little messy, but she likes knowing where everything is. She puts the crate back under the bed, now that Trinket has outgrown in.

 Vax’ eyes are heavy on her. They both know what’s also under the bed.

 There’s no use in talking about it again though. She won’t touch it, not yet, she’s not ready. And he’s not going to push again, not after last time, where it all went so badly. They both mentally tiptoe around the landmine, and get ready for bed.

 They curl up into each other on the narrow bed. It’s nothing new to them. In Byroden, they only had one bed. Their father’s house was ten times bigger than their mother’s had been, but they thankfully put them in close enough bedrooms that they could sneak to each other during the night.

 Vex closes her eyes. Her brother’s breathing is steady behind her. Trinket is snoring lightly, the fire crackles in the fireplace and wind sometimes howls in the distance. The world isn’t exactly quiet, but it’s serene nonetheless.

 She finds herself missing that serenity a dozen or so hours later, as they drive out from the cabin into Whitestone. It’s Winter’s Crest, so of course, it’s fucking packed. The driveway is jammed and it’s only because Vax is driving that Vex doesn’t turn back.

 Maybe that’s why he volunteered to drive. Because he knew that, once they got into this nightmare of a road blockage, she would get frustrated and turn back, and they would never get the dose of socializing he’s desperately trying to ensure.

 He’s tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm with the mind-numbing Winter’s Crest song on the radio. It’s grating. Vex has almost screamed in frustration five times already. That, and they’re using so much energy just sitting in the traffic, the radio and heating on…

 “This is why I hate cities,” she mumbles.

 “Gods, a week ago, you were gushing about how nice and quaint this little place was, and now you’ve condemned it as just another of those horrible cities…” Vax hums, and keeps drumming his fingers on the wheel. “Just you wait, stubby. Perhaps you’ll have at least a little fun once we’re in there.”

 How can he be so… cheerful? And calm. If it was her driving, she’d be yelling curses by now. Really, it’s best that she’s just on the passenger side, going slightly mad with frustration.

 “Why are you so excited?” She asks after a moment, because she really needs to know. She can’t really understand it, despite her knowledge of her brother’s nature. “We’ve been stuck for thirty-five minutes.”

 Vax shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s Winter’s Crest. I want… boozy eggnog and to see pretty lights,” he mutters. “I just want to have a good time with my sister, for once. Without… anything else hanging over us like a full Ruidus.”

 “Father’s not going to start loving us because it’s Winter’s Crest, brother.”

 “Are you      determined     to be a bitch about this?” Vax asks, staring ahead at the road and the cars. His fingers are now clenched around the steering wheel, not drumming anymore.

 Maybe she has stepped over a line. No, she      definitely     has. He doesn’t call her a bitch easily. Even if she can be, very often.

 They fall into an ugly tense silence. The cars ahead of them finally move and they manage to drive for a couple minutes at slightly more than a snail’s pace.

 She speaks up the next time they stop.

 “I know… I know you’re just trying to have a good time, I’m sorry,” she says quietly. The radio is still spewing its plague of Winter’s Crest tunes. “I… I know you don’t actually believe that those things disappear.”

 Vax turns for a moment, looks at her. His eyes are tired, incredibly tired. She can barely see the little fey specks in the iris. “Let’s just… have a good time. Or a pleasant time. I’m not asking you to be… cheerful, stubby, I’m just asking to put all this shit aside for once, for a couple hours. It’s all we talk about. It’s all we      think     about. The guy in the castle, our father hates us, your ex abused you, everything fucking sucks. I want to spend just… a few hours without any of this being a factor.”

 She wants to tell him she can’t. That it’s too big, all of it, that it’s useless to try and put aside such major events and feelings. But Vax is tired. He’s tired of the pain, he’s tired of the horror, he just wants a good time. And he wants to share that good time with her, this time, not with Gilmore.

 She knows Gilmore is probably much lighter on Vax’ nerves than she is. Their time together is probably much lighter than the one he spends with her.

 She needs to make their time light too, sometimes. Or… she might just lose him. Vex takes a deep breath and nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry… Let’s try and have a good time.”

     Unwanted daughter, selfish and cruel.  

 Words she hasn’t heard in months, in years, whispered in Elvish in her ears, resound as they finally, finally, make it to one of Whitestone’s parking lots.

 They meet the others at the Broken Candle tavern in the center of town, the door opening on the Sun Tree Square. The streets are full. This might be the most people Vex has ever seen in this city. She dislikes it, but she says nothing. Vax is looking around, relaxed again. His quick eyes scan the crowd. Vex looks purposefully away. If he snatches any coin purse on the way, she’ll have plausible deniability.

 One advantage of having an acquaintance - not a friend - like Grog is that he takes a lot of space. Space that can later be filled by yourself when you sit down at the table he’s saved for you. Pike and Grog both have ale in front of them, and soon, the twins join them.

 Cassandra isn’t there yet. They don’t even know if she’ll come. She says she would, maybe, if she had time, and Vex recognized that excuse. Maybe it’s too hard to be on her own today, without her family.

 Despite herself, Vex starts having a bit of fun. The ale is drunk and switched for eggnog, a troupe of bards start playing something that somehow isn’t Winter’s Crest music. They must be tired too, of weeks of singing the exact same shit around this time. She finds herself bobbing her head along to the music and humming under her breath when she recognizes a tune. It’s come a long way from the taverns on the edge of Syngorn, the ones she would wander into when she was a teenager running from home. She’s come a long way too.

 Vax’ arm rests on her shoulders. He’s smiling, and sometimes, it reaches his eyes.

 Somehow, the performers manage to sing a song so full of innuendos that the four of them start laughing until they cry. The gnome singer, dressed in what can only be understood as a noticeable outfit, keeps looking over towards Pike.

 The afternoon draws on and the sun starts to set. It’s the middle of winter, the shortest day of the year, and it shows. By 4.30, the lanterns are providing enough light to feel like a summer’s day. That’s what Vex saw from the outpost the other day.

 Cassandra comes when the sun sets.

 They’ve moved on to one of the big, communal tables installed at the roots of the Sun Tree. The colored lanterns and the large fire pits burning around the square keep the air warm, for a Duscar evening.

 Maybe it’s the alcohol too.

 Cassandra joins them at the table. She’s smiling, but it’s not reaching her eyes yet. Yet, because if Vex knows her brother, the look on his face currently tells her he’s going to try everything to make sure it does, by the end of the evening.

 She did dress up for the occasion though. She has her usual blue coat over a dark red dress. It’s a little old, perhaps, and it doesn’t seem like she’s very comfortable in the gown, but it suits her.

 Maybe Vex should have dressed up too. When she looks around the group though, she realizes that they aren’t wearing anything different than what they usually wear.

 The white hoodie Pike has on under her coat is the one Vex saw peeking out from under the plate mail. Grog… well, he never wore armor than she could see, but he just also goes shirtless.

 Dressing up is not exactly difficult for him, just a shirt suffices. He doesn’t have one on.

 Vax has his usual assortment of belts. Vex never actually figured out if those provided any protection or advantage, but they do look good, all buckled and stacked on top of one another around his waist.

 So her lack of… pretty clothing isn’t unusual. Cassandra’s the one who dressed up.

 She sits down on the bench by Vax’ side. Pike immediately shoves a cup of eggnog and a box of the fries smothered in meatballs, gravy and cranberry sauce they’ve been eating. Grog smiles, that big goofy smile of his that makes Vex breathe a little easier.

 “You okay?” Vax asks Cassandra, and she nods.

 “Yeah, sorry, I was…. I had to stop by the cemetery.”

 Vex remembers the stories of Pelor planting the seed of the Sun Tree. The Dawnfather’s influence on Winter’s Crest is undeniable. And the de Rolo family crest has the Sun Tree right in the center. If there’s a day where Cassandra would give her respects to her dead family…. That would be it.

 “Of course,” Pike smiles. “That’s a pretty dress!”

 Cassandra smiles back, a little shy at the compliment. “Ah, thanks. It’s old but… we used to dress up for Winter’s Crest, before… I just thought it was appropriate.”

 Ah, so the dress is the result of noblemen traditions of Winter’s Crest. Vex tries to imagine the person she saw in the castle, younger and less smokey, sitting around a table with a younger version of Cassandra, one without that sadness in her eyes.

 A gaggle of children rush by with shiny baubles in their hands, chased by presumably one of their guardians. From the looks of it, they stole those from one of the cut trees that decorate the Whitestone homes.

 The kids are cute, and innocent. Vex watches them run around the square, disappear behind the tree with the out of breath guardian still chasing them. They’re not running anymore, but they’ve settled for a determined walk. They’ll get their ornaments back eventually. The kids will be tired of the game.

 The bards from the Broken Candle take center stage on a raised platform installed not far from them.

 “Ooooh yeaaaaaaaah,” the gnome sings loudly, capturing everyone’s attention, raising his hand. As it comes down on the strings of his lute, the rest of the band starts playing.

 One second, Vex is starting to bob her head to the rhythm. The next, she’s on her feet, being pulled by her brother towards the slowly growing crowd of dancers.

 “Vax! No, come on,” she protests, pushing back at him slightly. She’s smiling though, and her cheeks are starting to hurt a little.

 Vax’s smile is just as bright, for once. It’s so beautiful she feels like crying suddenly. Every complaint she has about dancing in the town square with her brother on Winter’s Crest disappears as he pulls her close. The music wraps around them and their eyes meet.

 “I’ve missed this, stubby,” he whispers.

 “Me too,” she answers in a breath, and they start twirling around, somehow managing to follow the rhythm of the song. Neither of them are listening, really.

 When Vex can finally start looking away from her twin’s happiness, her eyes fall on Cassandra. Pike and Grog are talking, across the table from her, but she doesn’t seem to be listening. She’s staring at the two of them, dancing in the crowd.