The words are clipped and quiet, in the usual disdained-Percy way. And then Vex looks up at her husband, and there are tears streaming down his face, dripping off his chin, and his shoulders shake.
Vex stands and wraps him in her arms. She presses her face into his trembling shoulder, and swallows back a sob.
“I just want to see the children again.” Vex’ahlia aches for them, a dead weight settled on her chest. She’s tired in the way she’d hoped never to feel again- even with the pain gone, an exhaustion lingers that trumps even the haze of post-labor and an hours-old baby. No matter the way she’s died, Vex has found, coming back has always been the most painful events of her life.
She wants the soft sleep that comes with the blissful exhaustion of young children. The quiet, gentle kind, when her eyes would flutter closer while one or more of her babies lay on her chest and Percy either watched on or curled up beside her.
But she’s older now, and her children have grown, and she’s still tired.
“I want to go home,” she says, and the tears begin. Percy rocks her as they stand and begins to hum a lullaby that he’d sung to each of their children. With that, Vex knows he understands- that Percy knows what she means by home, that her deepest desire isn’t just Whitestone but five children and a group of friends and a brother and a mother who will never all be together at once. That she yearns for days long past and futures that could never be, that the world, which they sacrificed so much to save, has become close to wholly unbearable again.
Honestly the funniest thing you can do for a character who is an asshole is to give them very specific moral/ethical standards. This is one of many reasons why it's so boring when people are like all villains are abusive bigots no nuance. but honestly it's also great when an edgy anti-hero is like well I will shove this person against the wall to get information from them instead of being normal about it, but I would never steal even a single coin.
When Percival de Rolo dies, it is not a quiet affair.
Instead, much to his chagrin, it is slow and busy, and he is indignant about the whole matter. Children and grandchildren and their children flock to Whitestone from all across Exandria for final goodbyes.
It is not illness nor evil nor one of his many enemies that finally does Percy in; rather, he wakes one day to find all of his strength drained from him. He’d slept in late, as he was wont to do in his twilight years, and Vex had already risen, but he cried out for her in a weakened voice. Through the earrings, they were still connected. He struggled to sit up while she rushed to him from across the castle, and when she burst through the threshold of their chambers, Percy simply looked at her. Something in his face must have given him away, or perhaps it was the wheeze of his breath, but she moved towards him slowly, fear filling her face, and took his hand.
“Darling,” he’d said softly. “I do think this is the end for me. I’m terribly sorry.”
She had protested and wept, but Percy feels weary down to his bones. It is akin to the feeling of returning from the dead, achy and exhausting. Like he could fall asleep within seconds if he were to shut his eyes. And he can feel something great looming over him, not dreadful but still incredible. Perhaps it is the grace of whatever remains of the gods that has given him this feeling, but he knows, to his very core, that this is his last day.
They’re sitting there together, Vex crying into his shoulder, Percy propped up by pillows, when there’s a knock on the door. Vex freezes before hastily wiping her cheeks with her sleeve.
“Stubby?” Vax’s voice. “Freddy?”
They haven’t yet told anyone about Percy’s sense of impending death, but Percival knows instantly why Vax is here, understands that his brother perhaps knew what would happen today before Percival did.
“Come in,” Percival says, no louder than a whisper, but the door swings open a second later, revealing Vax’ildan, Keyleth behind him and clutching his hand.
Vex’s face has gone white. “Are you here for him?” she says, standing as if to shield Percy from her twin.
“No,” Vax says, his expression twisting in sorrow and sympathy. “He has time enough to say goodbye.”
Keyleth crosses the room then, tears streaming down her cheeks, and embraces Percy. Vax moves towards his sister, reaching out for her slowly. Vex allows herself to be tugged into his arms, and Percival hears her gasp as the sobs begin anew.
His arms feel too leadened to lift, but he wraps his arms around Keyleth nonetheless. “I can’t believe it,” Keyleth says, her voice breathy. “I don’t want you to go.”
Percy attempts a smile. “I can,” he says. “Not that I particularly want to go either.” He wipes Keyleth’s cheeks with fingers that tremble. They always shake nowadays. “I am old, Keyleth.”
“Have you tried healing him?” Keyleth asks, turning to Vex, who nods.
“Last night. And this morning, just a few hours ago. To help with the pain.”
“Old joints,” Percy explains. “But honestly, everything hurts all the time now.”
He’s used to it, and has been for years. Old wounds ache. His back is hunched and compressed in on itself. His knees are practically useless. Every morning and evening, and sometimes throughout the day, Vex heals him or offers a healing potion. He takes it, for her sake if anything, but after a point, the hurt cannot be helped.
“There must be something we can do.”
“Keyleth,” Vax says, squeezing her shoulder. “It’s time.”
Keyleth bows her head, red hair falling in front of her face and hiding her tears. Percy takes her hand in his.
“Send for the little ones, and the rest of Vox Machina,” Vax advises. “Say your goodbyes.” He swallows. “We’ll be here, Percival. Your whole family.”
“All of them?” Percy muses. “Good heavens.”
The words are light, but nobody reacts. Truly, Percy does not mind seeing his family- large in number as they are- but it will be an ordeal to gather them all. It always is.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I’ll gather them,” Vex says, wiping at her eyes. She kisses Percry on the lips and stands, turning back before she leaves. “Don’t. Go. Anywhere.”
Percival nods. “Of course not, darling. I’ll be right here.”
The door shuts behind her. Percy inhales, wheezing.
“Honestly, it’s such a fuss,” he murmurs, his tone barely audible. “I’d almost prefer to slip away quietly.”
Vax looks at him, a smile tugging at his lips. “You have too many goodbyes, Percival. What’s the harm in having a little more time? Besides, Vex’ahlia would never let you go without saying farewell.”
“True enough.”
“I’ll give you two a moment,” Vax says, glancing between Percy and Keyleth. “Before the day gets too chaotic.”
“Thank you,” Keyleth croaks. Vax kisses the top of her head, then does the same to Percival. He smiles softly, then follows his sister out the door.
“I don’t know what to say,” Keyleth whispers a moment later. “How am I supposed to do this?”
Percy doesn’t have a good answer for her. Instead, he pats the bed beside him, and Keyleth nods, kicking off her boots and crawling under the sheets next to him. She rests her head on his chest. Thankfully, she is free of her mantle and antlers. It is just Kiki here today, not the leader of the Air Ashari. His dearest friend.
“I take great comfort in knowing you won’t be alone,” Percy says. “For now and for the next few centuries.”
“It won’t be the same,” Keyleth says.
“No. It won’t be. It hasn’t been, not since Grog died,” Percy sighs. Their friend had passed away some ten years earlier, also claimed by the passage of time. “I can’t imagine this will be any easier.”
“Do you think-” Keyleth’s voice breaks. “Do you think we’ll see each other again?”
Percy chuckles. “Since when has death ever kept us apart?”
Keyleth laughs, watery and weak, then they fall into silence. Percy inhales, trying to soak the moment in. He wants to take it with him when he goes. Keyleth is warm and steady next to him. He runs his fingers through her hair, trying to memorize the exact shade of red. He breathes in her scent; cherry blossoms and spring.
Next, he looks down at their intertwined hands. His are liver-spotted and wrinkled, the skin pale and nearly translucent. Keyleth’s skin is smooth and lightly sun-kissed. She looks closer in age to his grandchildren than to himself, except for her eyes, where wisdom and loss are reflected.
“You’ll be alright,” Percival manages. He says it because it has to be true. He cannot leave if it’s not.
Keyelth sniffles, then nods. “I’ll be okay.” She sounds broken and unsure.
“You’ll take care of Vex’ahlia? And the children?”
“Of course I will.”
“Good. And I’ll see to it that they take care of you, too.”
The day proceeds much like that, family in and out. He is old; he has lived a long life. It is time, he tells them. He comforts the youngest ones when they cry and remains strong for his long line of descendants.
Vex hardly leaves his side, and it breaks his heart to see her comfort their family too, as if she will not be the one most impacted by his departure. They have spent 70 years together. He cannot fathom life without her, and she has expressed much the same to him.
“Don’t worry about me,” she tells him in a stolen moment when only he can hear. “I have the children. And the rest of our families. I’ll be just fine, Percy.”
She’s said that before. But Percy knows her and sees the pain in her eyes with every goodbye he utters.
He calls his sister into the room so they can say their goodbyes privately. Cassandra does not weep, but listens quietly while he apologizes for leaving her first. She will be the last remaining of their siblings. They both know Percival is glad it isn’t him. Selfish as the thought is, it cannot be helped. Never again will he feel the crippling loneliness of being the last de Rolo sibling. That burden had been abandoned for 70 years.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats heavily, “for leaving you behind again.”
Cassandra studies him carefully, deciding her next words. “There’s nothing to forgive,” she says at length. Percy feels his heart lift just slightly, even knowing that the words are spoken for his comfort. “You can’t help it. And I’m safe, this time.”
He takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it. “I will tell our parents hello,” he says. “And, when you join us- in a very long time- we will all be together again.”
His little sister nods. Then, she surprises him- even in their old age, she can do that- by leaning down to kiss his forehead.
“Goodbye, brother,” she says, and turns to leave.
He watches her go, carrying with her a piece of his heart that had not been his since the day she was born.
Gwendolyn asks to see him alone, too. She doesn’t knock or speak when she enters, just slips into bed beside Percy and rests her head on his chest. He wraps his arms around her, tucking her under his chin the best he can around her horns.
“My dear girl,” he says gently. Even middle-aged, his youngest is obstinate. She doesn’t respond, so he continues.
“I have always seen in you the parts of me that- that perhaps needed to be softened. And I have seen you overcome them as well. I have watched you find the light within the darkness. I am so proud of you. You know how much I love you, but I’ll say it again- I love you very, very much. And I always will, even if I’m not there to tell you.”
“Papa,” Gwen whispers.
“You be good for your mother, do you hear me?”
Gwen nods.
“Good.”
And he holds her, just a little longer, until it’s time for someone else to say goodbye.
He tells himself he’s not scared, but with each farewell- when he holds each of his children for the last time- fear rises within him. He does not much like the idea of leaving them behind, to face grief and the world without him. Even though he is old and near-useless, he still holds to the notion that he is their protector. That, no matter what evil arises in Exandria, he can defend against it, even if he hasn’t held a gun in decades.
He cannot protect them from the grief he has carried since he was a teenager. No longer will he offer parenting or fighting or life-in-general advice. He will leave them to brave the world without him. He has been a father for so long- he has always dreaded leaving his children fatherless.
Wolfe and Leona promise that they’ll be okay, that they will take care of his brood. Vesper vows to look after Vex. His Freddy is serious and forlorn, but tells Percival they’ll be alright. His children are stronger than he ever was, he tells them. He’s very proud of the lives they have built, the people they have become, and the children they have raised.
His children’s partners are entrusted to take care of his babies. He’s known most of them a good 40 years- they are as much his as the rest of his children. Percy takes immense comfort in knowing that most of his children have spouses, that they will know the comfort he and Vex shared for most of their lives.
His grandchildren are adults now, with lives and children of their own. He kisses the little ones goodbye, leaves them with smiles, and wipes away their tears. He leaves them with pieces of wisdom, with memories, with his love.
The heirs to Whitestone swear to keep their city safe and prosperous, but for once, Percy does not worry. Vesper and Cassandra and Vex have long maintained their home. It is in good hands.
Pike and Scanlan and Tary bid him farewell, too. Pike is in tears, but she says to tell Grog hello. She promises to look after Kiki and Vex, just like she always has, and Scanlan says he’ll look after Pike. His other family will be alright, too, even at this parting.
And then everyone has said their goodbyes, and there is nothing left to do but wait. Their whole clan gathers in his bedchambers, from which Percival has not moved, nor will he until it is time for burial.
“I would do anything,” Vex says, so quietly that only he can hear, “so that you would live forever.”
He takes her face in both of his trembling hands and presses a kiss to her lips. For a split second, the world narrows to the two of them: just Vex and Percy and their love. He thinks of their life together, from her words calling his soul to return, to the birth of their first daughter, to their second wedding, raising their children together, their first grandchild, and great-grandchildren entering the world.
It’s all been wonderful. He would not change a thing.
“Just one more day, Percy,” Vex says. There are tears in her eyes, and Percival’s heart breaks.
“I would never leave you, if given the chance,” Percival says. “But I’m afraid I’ve no choice in the matter.” He squeezes her hand. “I will see you again,” he says around the lump in his throat.
But Vex sees his fear so easily. “You will,” she agrees. “Your family is waiting for you, darling.”
Percy nods, feeling very small. He misses his wife, his children, and his family already, so much so that his chest aches. He swallows hard.
There are voices calling him away. How long until he sees his mother and father again? His darling sisters and his brothers? All those they’ve ever lost? He is weary and in pain. It will all end too soon.
“I am very tired,” Percy whispers.
Vex cups his cheek. “Then sleep, darling.”
He can hear the pain in his wife’s voice, but the exhaustion is pulling him under faster than he can fight it. In a final burst of energy, he opens his eyes and glances around the room. His children are holding their own children and grandchildren, and Vox Machina are scattered throughout the room. His sister, chin held high as she watches him. Keyleth, crying again, but giving him a nod as if to tell him it’s okay. Vex, smiling as silent tears slip down her face, and Vax gripping her shoulder.
As far as endings go, surrounded by family is not a terrible fate.
He closes his eyes, and falls asleep.
Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III dies hours later, his hand clasped in his wife’s, his family by his side. In the interim, between him going to sleep and finally dying, there is hushed chatter and laughter and crying. There are nearly 30 people packed into his bedchamber, old friends and loved ones, those who have lived decades and those who have just entered the world. It is not a quiet affair. It is not violent or sudden. He is not ripped away but gently guided to another place.
It is not a quiet affair. But there is peace, and there is love, in the end.
