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I’m finally halfway through this project! I also have Yasha done, but sadly it’ll only let me post 10 photos at a time 😭 but here are all of them together so far! I’m so excited to get these finished up and print some decks of them!
*Please do not repost my art without permission (though reblogs are always appreciated!)*
Keyleth is restless after her fight with Raishan and her forced alliance with a dragon she can't begin to trust.
When she can't sleep, she seeks out companionship and despite a castle full of allies the only person she can think to go to is Grog, and she finds the kind of comfort and understanding she hasn't known for a very long time.
It was sometime after midnight, and Keyleth had gotten zero sleep.
Not for lack of trying, she’d tossed and turned in her bed for more than an hour. As the clock crept towards one am she threw back the covers and moved to sit cross legged on the expensive rug covering the cold stone floor.
Mediation had worked in the past, so she closed her eyes and tried to settle her mind and calm her soul but no matter how hard she tried clear her thoughts, they inevitably drifted back to Raishan which made her want to punch something all over again.
She was exhausted, verging on punch-drunk, and getting increasingly frustrated at her lack of sleep.
Determined to give it one more try she tried imagine herself weightless, floating in a clear blue sky, but the whole time there was a pull, like a thread tied to her ribs, which kept tugging her attention down the hall to the second door on the left.
Restless, her skin feeling too tight, Keyleth got up with a curse and wrenched open the door to her bedroom and padded barefoot down the dimly lit hall.
There were guards at either end, but they didn’t seem to be paying her any mind. It was their job to make sure no one attacked, not to make sure everyone stayed in their proper rooms.
Still, she felt a little like a teenager sneaking into a boy’s room after the adults had gone to bed.
“Grog,” Keyleth called quietly through the door, because she worried a knock on his door might wake up Vex who had incredibly sensitive hearing. “Are you up?”
There was movement on the other side of the door, the heavy footsteps which she easily recognized as belonging to Grog. When he opened the door he looked obviously surprised to see her outside his room in the middle of the night. “Keyleth?”
“Were you sleeping?” she asked, suddenly embarrassed and uncertain. The last thing he probably wanted was to be bugged in the middle of the night by an awkward druid. He’d probably been getting ready to go bed; she should have thought this through instead of going on impulse. “I’m sorry-gods, I shouldn’t have barged in like this.”
Keyleth was already taking a step back when he smiled, small enough it was barely visible through his beard. “You didn’t barge in, you’re still in the hallway. Did you need something?”
She felt stupid and childish. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh,” and as if that explained everything Grog opened the door and waved her in. “Welcome to Casa Grog. You want something to drink?”
Keyleth followed him inside, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. “You have alcohol in your room?”
“I have the bag,” he explained, picking up the bag of holding and dropping it on the table which was half covered with weapons. “We’ve got that shitty tasting sand wine, but I was talking about the jug. You can get some decent beer out of it.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll have a drink.”
Grog pulled two cups from the bag, one looked like a piece of dented tin and the other was encrusted with gems, then the alchemy jug and poured them both a glass. He gave her the pretty jeweled one and Keyleth wondered if he was being kind or if he didn’t see a difference in the cups.
She imagined that, for him, it was what alcohol inside that mattered more.
Since there wasn’t a lot of options for sitting Keyleth perched herself on the edge of the bed, and Grog all but sprawled in the chair next to the table. Letting herself be distracted she studied the chair because Grog usually dwarfed most furniture, but this one actually seemed to be made for him. “Did Percy get you new furniture?”
“Yeah,” he said as a he took a long drag from the cup, then immediately reached for the jug to refill it. “Had it ‘specially made because all the shit here is made for scrawny people. I got a backache from everything. What are you doing here?”
He tacked the question on the end like he’d only just thought about it, but Keyleth knew he was more clever than he let on and was likely trying to catch her guard with the hopes of getting an honest answer.
“I can’t just want hang out?” she evaded, taking a large drink of the beer. She had the vague idea of getting drunk but wasn’t sure it was the best idea in current emotional state.
“Sure,” he shrugged. “But you’ve never wanted to before.”
“Fair enough.” She shifted, resting her feet on the foot board, and stared down at her bare toes peeking out from under her nightgown. “If you wanted to learn how to fire a gun, who would you go to?”
“Percy.”
She looked up at the immediate answer. “Throw a dagger?”
“Vax,” he answered, his brow lowered and she thought he understood she was leading up to something.
“And if someone wanted to learn to control their anger?”
“Me,” he answered as the corner of his lips twitched. “You feeling a need to control your anger, Kiki?”
Keyleth tried to portray a calm exterior, but there was a flame catching somewhere inside her and she thought if she didn’t vent some of the pressure she’d explode. Instead of screaming or yelling she just turned the cup in her hands, and kept her gaze steady with his. “You saw me with Raishan earlier.”
“Yeah, and?”
“And I lost control.”
Grog snorted. “You really didn’t.”
Keyleth was confused, she’d felt herself lose control, had watched almost as a bystander as she raged at the green dragon in human skin. She’d seen Vex’s surprise and worry, had felt Vax’s stare.
They all thought she’d lost it.
“What would you call it then?”
“Being righteously pissed the fuck off, but you didn’t lose control. I know what that looks like,” he bit out. “Kevdak lost control when he beat me within an inch of my life, Percy lost control with that punk kid who drove the Briarwood’s carriage. You yelled and it was fucking justified. If it had been me? If someone had gone after Wilhand? I’d have taken an axe to her head, fuck everything else.”
There was something about how controlled his voice was which made him seem all the more dangerous; lounging in a chair with every muscle relaxed, but eyes as hard as steel. Something shifted inside of her as she watched him; her heart was beating differently in her chest, and she could almost feel the blood in her veins pumping quicker.
It felt like rage, but the edges were smoother.
Keyleth took a long drink, the beer wetting her suddenly dry throat.
“I’ve never yelled like that before.”
“Yeah, you have.”
She was surprised at his rebuttal, and tried to search her recent memory for a time when she’d let loose as she had earlier that day. “I have?”
“Well,” he corrected, “Maybe not quite that mad, but you got pretty close when Tibs killed that old lady who was running away. You were worried we were losing our morality.”
Keyleth remembered it vividly, those months when it felt as if their group was going to fracture at any minute. “I’m still worried about it. I’m worried I’ll get so mad I’ll forget where my lines are and become the thing I hate.”
“If you’re looking for guidance in morality, I’d go see Pike. But if you want to know what I think?”
“I do,” and she was completely sincere about it.
“We’re about to fight a fucking conclave of dragons, and if you second guess everything you do it’s like having one arm tied behind your back and we need you at your best. You can’t go forward scared of what you’ll do; and when it comes down to it, if you cross a line, you can always walk back. You can’t take back what you did, but you can try and not do it again.”
“I never thought about it like that,” she admitted. She’d always seen ‘wrong’ as something you couldn’t go back from. In her mind she had two choices, do right all the time, or be evil, but that wasn’t how the world actually worked.
“Is this why you can’t sleep? You just keep worrying about Raishan?”
“I’m just so angry, and there’s so much inside of me and I don’t want it. I want her to feel it,” Keyleth all but growled, putting as much hatred and poison into the words as she could. “To carry the weight of it. I want-“
“Revenge,” Grog finished for her, his gaze level with hers.
Keyleth almost startled at the directness of it, of how he seemed to be looking into her as much as at her.
It was like being seen for the time, and she couldn’t turn away because this was what she’d come here in the middle of the night for.
Without even realizing she’d come here looking for the one thing she didn’t think she could get anywhere else: Understanding.
“I get revenge, Keyleth. You don’t have to explain it to me.” He pushed himself off the chair and walked across the room, bending at the knees so his eyes were level with hers. “You helped me get mine against Kevdak, I’ll help you get yours from Raishan.”
Yes, Grog understood, and he wouldn’t make her feel bad because to him anger wasn’t something to be buried or dismissed, anger was a tool the same as his axe or her spells. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he assured her, and she believed it. Then he did something unexpected, he reached out and took her hand, slowing curling the fingers in until she made a fist. “In the meantime, I’ll teach you how to throw a punch.”
Keyleth smiled, the idea for some reason incredibly amusing to her. “You’re going to teach me how to fight?”
“It’s a good way to manage the rage,” he explained. “Who knows, you might even be good at it. You could kick ass even when you’re not a walking mountain.”
“I’d appreciate it,” she agreed, because she trusted him. “Thank you.”
He shrugged like it didn’t matter, but there was a softness around his eyes which helped settle her. “It’ll be nice to have someone to spar with, if you don’t mind getting a little bruised up.”
Keyleth shook her head. “You don’t scare me.”
Grog laughed and straightened, gesturing to her other hand as he asked, “You done?”
She looked down at the cup in her hand, empty. “Oh, yeah. Thanks.”
He took the cup from her hand and tossed into the bag of holding before draining his own cup and adding it to the magical abyss. Then he turned and leaned against the table, crossing one ankle over the other. “When you’re less pissed off and sad, remind me to tell you how fucking hot you were when you were laying into Raishan.”
Keyleth huffed out a surprised laugh, could feel the blush darkening her cheeks. She didn’t even know what to say to that so she changed the subject. “Can I ask for one more thing?”
Grog shrugged, “Sure.”
Keyleth smiled, he was the only person she knew who would agree to something without knowing what it was. That was how his heart beat, with unquestionable loyalty.
“Can I stay here tonight?”
He watched her for a minute like he was trying to figure her out, and she half expected him to ask why and then she’d have to try and figure out how to put these feelings into words but instead he just nodded. “Sure. But keep in mind I snore.”
They’d all slept around the same campfires for months, this wasn’t news to her. “I’m fully aware of that, Grog.”
“Good,” he stood up and studied the bed, then the room.
“What?”
“I’m just trying to choose which side to sleep on,” he explained, his eyes narrowing. “When we sleep in big houses we tend to get attacked from the windows, so I’ll sleep over here.”
Keyleth snorted, she might not be able to throw a punch but she was hardly helpless. “I don’t need to be protected, Grog.”
“Oh, I know that.” He sat down on the bed and began untying his boots. “But I’m a meat shield, that’s my job. Take the first hit so you can hit back.”
Keyleth moved across the massive bed until she got to the top, pulling back the covers so she could settle in. “We would make a pretty badass team.”
“Fuck yeah, we would.” She heard the sound of his boots dropping, “Lights on or off?”
Keyleth thought about the candles burning and couldn’t imagine going to sleep looking at flames which would be cousins to the ones which killed her people. “Off.”
He went around the room and turned off the lanterns and blowing out candles; in the darkness she heard him move closer, the mattress shifting under his weight as he climbed into bed beside her.
There was a tension there between them, thick enough she thought she could mold it, but it wasn’t awkward or weird. But shouldn’t it be? It would have been with Vax or Percy, but for some reason having his big, solid weight a few inches away, close enough to touch, allowed to breathe easy for the first time all day.
“You’re not going to jump me in the middle of the night, are you?” Grog asked after a moment of silence.
Keyleth burst out of laughing, shifting onto her stomach as the last of the heaviness in her gut disappeared, which she suspected had been his intention. “No, I think I’ll be able to control myself.”
“Don’t hold yourself back on my account,” he quipped as he settled on his back. “Just wanted to know so I don’t take a swing at ya when you start groping me.”
Keyleth shook her head, bundling the pillow beneath her head as she burrowed under the blankets, closing her eyes, a smile still on her lips. “Good night, Grog.”
She thought she heard a smile in his voice when he replied, “G’night, Keyleth.”
The next morning she woke to the sounds of Grog moving around the room. She pried her eyes open and watched as he gathered stuff from around the room. “The sun’s barely up, what are you doing?”
“These rippling muscles don’t take care of themselves,” he informed her pertly. “I’m going to pick up some cows, throw some soldiers around. Maybe run to Emon and back.”
“As one does,” Keyleth teased.
“You’re more than welcome to stay,” he told her as he picked up his axe. “But if you manage to roll out of bed before noon I’ll show how to punch someone without breaking your thumb.”
Keyleth’s eyebrows lowered. “You can break your thumb punching someone?”
Grog shook his head, an exaggerated look of disappointment on his face. “It’s just sad, how little you know. Come down and I’ll teach you a thing or two. Here,” he showed her his axe. “First lesson is free. This is called a weapon,” Keyleth laughed at his over-done enunciation. “You hurt people with it.”
“Sharp end goes into the bad guy?” Keyleth asked, playing along.
“You’re a natural,” he praised, slipping his axe into the loop on his belt. “I’ll see you later, Kiki.”
“See you later, Grog.” She thought about rolling over and going back to sleep but called out to her friend as he reached the door. “Grog?” He turned to her, a question in his eyes. “Thank you, for anything.”
“Anytime,” he promised and walked outside.
The group would likely be getting up soon, Keyleth thought as she once again got comfortable in Grog’s bed. She should probably go back to her room before anyone realized where she’d spent the night.
Not that she was embarrassed, but they would all think it meant something it didn’t and she wasn’t in the mood to explain.
Having said that, the bed smelled like Grog and his pillow still carried some of his body heat; it was an easy enough thing to wrap her arms around it, feeling safe and calm, and fall back to sleep.
