Work Text:
Vax is skulking - of course he is, it’s what he’s always done around his father’s house, and old habits are hard to break. He tells himself that he’s trying to gather information, figure out what’s going on underneath the surface. (There has to be something underneath the surface. Something happening in Syngorn that isn’t right. If there’s something wrong, then they can fix it, and maybe it will make Vex feel better. Or himself, but Vex needs it more.) But, truth be told, he just likes knowing things that no one else knows. He’s made an entire life out of it, after all.
When he gets near the receiving room, he does not expect to hear Percy’s voice. He left all his companions back at their guest house - but, then again, that was a while ago. But why is Percy here? Vax creeps near the doorway to listen.
“… could have waited until our meeting in the morning,” his father is saying. “Why did you come to me now?”
There is a brief pause. “Because,” Percy says, in that aristocratic voice that usually makes Vax want to punch him, “I wanted to make something perfectly clear between you and I.”
“Oh?” Syldor has the gift of making that one syllable say entire paragraphs, usually vicious. Vax has been on the receiving end more times than he cares to count.
Percy’s voice takes a mild tone that Vax also knows enough about to be wary of. “If you hurt them, I will end you.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s it. That’s all I have to say.”
“You come here, to my home, to my city, and threaten me? How do you dare?”
The child that yet lives in Vax cringes away from that anger. Percy, however, just chuckles. “We didn’t want to come here. We have a need, and you’ll fill it, because you’re at least smart enough to understand the threat of the Chroma Conclave. But I think you also understand the need to protect your own first. Otherwise, Syngorn would still be in our realm.”
Syldor doesn’t speak, so after a moment, Percy continues. “You’re an idiot, you know.”
“I grow tired of being insulted in my own home. Your welcome here is -”
“You don’t know the worth of your own children,” Percy interrupts. “I do. And what’s more, I know what it’s like to lose family. So I have no patience for someone who throws his own family away simply because he’s embarrassed by the way he created them.”
“You know nothing about me, or my family.”
“Wrong. I know that Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan are the two best people I know. I know that they deserve far, far better than you’ve ever given them. And I know that I - and my other companions - will do anything for them, even if it means harming you and yours. In fact, I might take pleasure in seeing your pain, should it be necessary. Because I’m not even close to as good a person as either of your children.”
There is a long, uncomfortable pause. “And you felt it necessary to come here just to tell me that.”
“Someone had to.” Vax cannot see Percy shrug, but he imagines it all the same. “In a better world, it would be Vex or Vax telling you to go to hell. Maybe one of them yet will. I’d like to be here to see it.”
Vax sneaks away from the door. He figures his father will have some choice words for Percy, but he’s not particularly in the mood to hear them. Instead, he heads outside into the perpetual dusk, and waits next to the tree in his father’s front yard.
Percy exits a few minutes later. Vax lets him get just past the tree before he speaks. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Percy stops, his shoulders going rigid. “I just had a question to ask.”
“Liar.”
“What do you think I was doing?”
“I heard.”
At that, Percy turns to face him. His face is carefully blank; Vax imagines he’s preparing himself for an incoming argument. Vax mirrors his expression, just to make him wonder. “Walk with me,” he says, walking past Percy in the direction of their guest house.
They maintain this cold, awkward silence until Vax is sure he will not turn around to see any trace of Syldor’s house. When they pass a small alleyway, Vax grabs Percy’s arm and pulls him out of sight of anyone who might be watching. He watches as Percy catches his balance, adjusts his glasses, and finally speaks. “Vax, you should know that -”
“Shut up, Percy.” And with that, he pulls Percy close and envelops him in a crushing hug.
It takes a moment, but eventually Percy wraps his arms lightly around Vax’s waist. “Um.”
“Shut up and take it, Percival,” Vax says, grinning as he hooks his chin onto Percy’s shoulder. “You asked for it.”
“I mean. A hug is better than the alternative, but …”
“But nothing.” Vax pulls back and readjusts Percy’s glasses before letting him go completely. “I could be mad that you decided to fight our battles for us, but honestly, I don’t think anyone else has ever even tried. So for that, you have my thanks.”
Percy nods. “I … I was going to wait and see, but then we actually met him, and I found myself getting more and more angry.” He pauses, looking Vax in the eye. “She cried, you know. Last night, after everyone else went to bed. She was trying not to, but …”
Part of Vax wants to ask why Percy was with his sister after everyone had gone to bed, but he actually doesn’t want to know, and it’s not the point besides. “You included me. When you were talking to him.”
“Of course I did.” Percy’s brow furrows. “Listen, Vax, I don’t exactly know how you feel about me these days, but you’re still family.”
I’m not exactly sure how I feel, either, Vax wants to tell him. Percy is arrogant and careless and a whole wealth of terrible decisions. But we have that in common, Vax thinks. That, and an unwavering loyalty to Vex’ahlia. For that alone, Vax will forgive a lot. “Family,” Vax repeats softly. “It’s good to remember what that means, in this place.”
“Yeah,” Percy says. Then he straightens his back. “Come on, we’ve both done what we needed to do, I assume. Scanlan and Grog were off to find a tavern. I’m sure that will be a marvelous show of scandalized elven snobs.”
Vax laughs, clapping a hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Sounds like fun to me. Lead the way.”
It feels good, Vax thinks, to have family - real family - in this cesspool of a city. Percy is a solid presence at his side, even as people stare, and that helps. It doesn’t make the discomfort go away, but it definitely helps.