#percahliaweek23

[vengeverse]

230928  |  Vex'ahlia ♥︎ Percy de Rolo  |  Vox Machina

My first Vox Machina artwork! I recently started watching the show, only to find out that it's @percahliaweek! So here's a little something for Free Day! ♡

[rightpastnowhere]

Perc’ahlia Week 2024 Countdown - Day One

Hey everybody!! In case you weren’t already aware, we’re gearing up for the start of Perc’ahlia Week in just one week!! Just like last year, I’ve made some moodboards for each day’s prompts, either to help get gears turning for any last-minute entries, help with works-in-progress, or just in general get hyped up!!

Day One — Courage / Heart

And also some general ideas for interpretations of the prompts, in case anyone’s still stuck:

Courage

– the canon liquor and its associated… events (c1 e78), or any callbacks (c1 e96), or other liquor-related things

– gearing up for a fight, gathering the courage to confess/propose, preparing to deal with something scary or life-altering, etc

Heart

– “my heart is someone else’s” (c1 e63 / TLoVM s2 e8), and its associated recalls (c1 e69, c1 e87, Dalen’s Closet)

– Valentine’s and other heart-themed holidays, heart as in the center/importance of things (i.e. “the heart of the matter”), and just general lovey-dovey things <3

Day One of Perc’ahlia Week 2024 will be Monday, September 23!! Remember to use the #percahliaweek or #percahliaweek24 tags, or tag us @percahliaweek for your posts so we can see them and reblog them! We can’t wait to see what everyone creates <3

[kyuupcumber]

I can't help but get stuck on you

Stuck on you by Griftings on AO3 is my absolute favorite perc'ahlia fic ever it may not be finished but I do have like 13 different endings in my head!! go read it!! it inspires much brainrot

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[percahliaweek]

PERC’AHLIA WEEK 2023

September 24th-30th 

Day 1, Sept. 24th: DAWN / TREASURE 

Day 2, Sept. 25th: DARKNESS / LEGACY

Day 3, Sept. 26th: MASK / TRINKET 

Day 4, Sept. 27th: SHOOT / REBORN

Day 5, Sept. 28th: FAIRYTALE / CLASS

Day 6, Sept. 29th: YOURS / LATER

Day 7, Sept. 30th: FREE / RANDOM*

* For the Random prompt, we suggest rolling dice for loot/encounter tables/prompt lists or online prompt generators. See what inspires you! We can compile links if you need ideas ;3

Day 1 [needs tag] | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

A hearty welcome and thanks for your patience! 

Perc’ahlia week ‘23 is a fan-hosted event to celebrate Percy and Vex in all their smitten glory. From the depths of despair to the joys of parenthood, love certainly opened doors for them ;) The prompts are intended to be open-ended and inspiring creativity: is class a five-star event, a teaching moment, or a potential class swap AU? How about the infamous plague doctor mask, or does this remind you of them masking their feelings? The only limit is your creativity!

This event will be welcoming fans of Campaign 1 of Critical Role as well as those from The Legend of Vox Machina - we hope to foster an environment where spoilers can be avoided by either party and will request that campaign works tag themselves #cr1 spoilers so TLOVM fans can blacklist that tag. 

Why late September? Well. Friday the 29th is the anniversary of Campaign 1 Episode 69, ‘Passed Through Fire’. Or, you know, the episode where this happens:

(GIF credit @moiraineswife)

Tag any creations made for the event with #percahliaweek, or @ us here @percahliaweek, and we will reblog it. Or you can submit directly to the blog if you'd prefer!

We also have a Discord server - both to encourage eachother to work on WIPs and just hang out. You can find us HERE <3

Any questions? We have an FAQ up HERE - but please don't hesitate to send in an ask!

[waltwhitmansbeard]

Perc'ahlia Week: Free/Random

we did it folks! thanks to everyone who participated in @percahliaweek, esp the good folks who organized this whole thing! it's been so much fun to explore these prompts! here's hoping i stick the landing.

Percival de Rolo III wakes up on his last day knowing that he will not see another dawn. It hardly scares him; if anything, his aching joints have been screaming for rest for ages now, each one creaking and stiff like an unwound clock. He doesn't know where the certainty comes from, only that it doesn't feel macabre or fatalistic. He is going to die today. Better get a move on.

He doesn't begrudge Vex'ahlia's stubborn insistence that he's fine. He doesn't begrudge Vex'ahlia's stubborn anything. He lets her perform her morning ritual as usual, lies still as she grips one of his hands in both of hers and pours into him every ounce of magic she has for the day. The healing doesn't work, because he is not injured, merely human. Still, he smiles and thanks her, and they both pretend that it made things better.

Over breakfast in bed (all of his breakfasts are in bed these days, as are all of his other meals, and in fact the vast majority of his time), he quietly asks her to gather their family. She freezes, her forkful of eggs halfway up to her mouth. His vision is not what it used to be, but she is so beautiful, the golden rays of Pelor's dawn sparkling in her hair, now more silver than brown. She has always glittered, something beautiful and wild, a dragon who made a hoard of his heart.

She sets her fork down. She does not look at him. She asks if he's sure. He says that he is. She believes him, because after seven decades, she knows he is not a liar. It is a feat, the way she schools her expression into something that doesn't shatter his heart in two. She smiles and kisses his cheek. "Of course, darling."

They come, because for the past year or so, they have been preparing themselves for this very thing. Keyleth is called first, and she takes it upon herself to gather the most far-flung. Percy misses most of their arrivals; his energy wanes quickly after breakfast, and he passes in and out of sleep until a pair of lips on his cheek stir him back to consciousness. "Hi, Grandpa."

Vesper's eldest, Whitney, helps him into a sitting position. He feels each and every one of his bones as he moves. Beside her, her husband, an elven man Percy remembers not trusting for years, holds their infant son. Whitney's eyes are red and swollen. "Mimi says you...wanted everyone here."

Percy lets out a coughing laugh; gods above, they're great-grandparents now, and Vex still hates being called grandma. "I don't think I have many goodbyes left in me, dear. Better to get them all out while I can."

She sniffs. "Can't...can't Aunt Kiki do something?"

Slowly, he reaches over to pat her hand where it rests on the bedspread. "Keyleth has done more for me than any man deserves, as has your grandmother, as has Pike. I have seen my share of sunsets and sunrises, Whitney. Time for...better eyes than mine to take a look."

Just then, the door to the master suite opens, and more de Rolos come spilling in like light through an open window. Wolfe is first, one arm around Gwen, clearly keeping her upright; Danny follows, his aunt Cassandra hobbling beside him, leaning heavily on his arm. Danny's followed by his son, Shaun, and Shaun's very pregnant partner, whose name Percy can't remember. It's disorienting, but not the first time Percy's memory has failed him. Once he had the sharpest mind in Whitestone, keen enough to make the inventions that set his home years ahead of the rest of the continent, technologically speaking, but most days now, his mind feels like a sieve, permeable, untrustworthy.

Still, he smiles as the rest of his family spills in, children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, twenty in all, not including Cass, who is given the chair right by his bedside. So many de Rolos, in a castle once entirely empty of them. Percy sees so much of the family he lost in their faces—his mother's eyes, his father's nose, Ludwig's jaw, Whitney's hair—and not for the first time, he knows what it means to be immortal in the most human way.

As they say their goodbyes, as they sniff away tears, as they promise him to do right by their family name, he knows that the legacy he has been chasing his entire life, one not stained with blood and black with smoke, has been a fool's errand. His family is not his legacy. They are people, just as he is, no more, no less. They will be great and they will be terrible and they will make mistakes and they will make the world a better place because the gods know that Percy has been far from a perfect man, but he believes he has done what he can to sow in their hearts the seeds of kindness, charity, empathy. He cannot claim them as his legacy because they are still building legacies of their own, ones that will reach far beyond his time in this realm.

He lets them kiss his cheek. He whispers his love, over and over, endless and true. He smiles and looks into each of their faces, hoping the sieve lasts long enough to carry him into whatever comes next.

.

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but when he awakes, the only de Rolo who remains is Cass. He can't see the white stripe in her hair anymore, because it is all white now. Her eyes are a soft blue, belying her almost complete lack of vision. Percy squeezes her hand. "You still with me, Cass?"

"You're asking me?" They both grin. "I've been trying to get rid of you for years. It's about time you got out of here."

"Yes, well, you remember how Mother used to scold me for being so slow to rise in the mornings."

"That's because you'd stay up until all hours reading."

"Which is why I'm so much smarter than you."

She rolls her eyes, and the air shifts, cools into something more melancholy. "Are you so sure it's now? You seem in such high spirits for a man convinced he's going to die today."

Percy doesn't know how to explain to her the knowing, the certainty in his bones that he could count the number of words he has left. He thinks of a night when they were young, far younger than they are now, when Cass would crawl into his bed during a thunderstorm, shaking and afraid. He tries to explain it the same way he explained to that little girl that the thunder wasn't going to hurt her. "The gods have seen my hubris, my cruelty, my ego throughout the years...and they have loved me anyway. How else do you explain this?" He gestures weakly with his free hand, and he knows that she knows he's not referring to the castle and its riches. "I awoke this morning with my wife beside me in the home that we built, and I felt their calling in my chest. I am not long for this world, Cassandra." Tears slip quickly and silently down her nose. "I'm not afraid. Whatever is coming for me, good, bad, or ugly, it was worth what I experienced here, with my family. With you. I should have died with the rest of our siblings, with Mother and Father, that terrible night. I didn't. Everything after has been...a gift."

"A gift for me." She brings his hand up to her mouth, kisses his papery skin with her thin lips. "Your children and grandchildren, they've been a gift to me, too. Thank you for giving me my family back, Percival."

He smiles, and new fatigue washes over him. His eyes blink slow and long, and she pats his hand. "Rest now, brother. You still have work to do."

He wants to argue, but the sleep rushes over him, dark and warm, like smoke.

.

When Percival de Rolo III awakens for the last time, he is very much not alone. Perched on his left side is Keyleth, timeless and ethereal. The circlet and mantle of her station are gone, and for a moment, they're kids again, the entire world at their feet. Her eyes are glassy, and he has to be impressed that she hasn't started crying yet.

Standing on the foot of the bed, each holding onto a poster, are Pike and Scanlan. Like Keyleth's, neither's face belies much of the past seventy-odd years, but he can't find it in himself to be jealous of all the life they have yet to live. He thinks himself lucky to have had this, such a perfect little slice of the world, fit exactly to size for him.

Between the two of them, already a blubbering mess, is Taryon, the only person in the room who looks the way Percy feels. His liver spots match Percy's, which must drive Tary crazy. He wonders if this is harder or easier for him, given that Tary has already been grieving Lawrence these past six years or so. He hopes that Tary can be of use to Vex, though if he had to guess, he'd think Keyleth is better suited to the task.

Because she is also here, his heart, his Vex'ahlia. She sits at his right hand, where Cass had been earlier, and gently runs her fingers over the inside of his wrist. She has never been anything less the most beautiful creature he's ever seen, and not for the first time, though perhaps for the last, he thanks the gods for allowing her to be his. Well over half a century together, and he knows by the tremulous bob of her throat and the eyes that will not meet his that she is using every ounce of her formidable strength to keep herself in one piece.

"Hey, Percy." He looks back to Scanlan, whose shit-eating grin has not changed a bit in all these years. "If you finally wanted that six-way, you didn't have to say you were dying to get us here. You could have just asked."

Pike punches his shoulder, but Percy laughs. "You'd never...keep up with me...Scanlan."

"Yeah, I bet that's true." He reaches down to pat Percy's foot beneath the blankets. "You always were a better man than me."

"The bar is in hell," Pike grumbles under her breath, and Percy coughs out another laugh. They must be off-again, he guesses. Well, it was nice of them to come, regardless.

"Tary." The man in question cries twice as hard when Percy says his name. "Have I ever told you...how proud I am...of you?"

Tary brings a shaking hand up to wipe at his eyes, and Pike pats his arm reassuringly. "That's what I care about. If a guy like you could see the good in a guy like me...well, I knew I was gonna be okay."

And Tary is more than okay, Percy knows. He's done more good in the world than any of them would have thought possible the day they met him, arrogant and annoying and so very naïve. Percy is proud of him, proud of the work they've done together and apart. Someday, not too long from now, these same people will gather around Tary, usher him as gently from this world as they do for Percy now, and Percy can only hope that they sing his praises as loudly as he deserves.

Pike hops up onto the bed, her socked feet padding over so she can kneel by his elbow in front of Keyleth. She grips her holy symbol, now worn and smoothed, in one hand and rests the other over Percy's heart. "Everlight, please carry my friend into the next life with the same light and compassion he has shown me in our time together." Her voice is strong, but Percy can hear the tremble in it. "As faithful as I have been to you in my life, he has been twice as faithful to me, to his friends, to his family, to the people of Whitestone. And I think you and I both know that faith does not come quite so easily to some as it does to others." She opens one eye to grin at him, and he winks back. She closes the eye again to finish her prayer. "Let his soul rest among his ancestors, and may your benevolent light never stray from those he leaves behind."

There is a long beat of silence, and though his eyes are not what they used to be, Percy swears the mid-afternoon light streaming in from the wrought-iron windows flares just a bit brighter. Pike releases her holy symbol, leans down, and kisses his cheek. "Y'know," she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear, "for someone doomed by the narrative, you did alright for yourself, Percy."

"I couldn't...have done it without you."

The first of Pike's tears falls, and she slips back to the foot of the bed wiping at her eyes. Percy lets his head tip to the side, and Keyleth's face is as red as her hair, her own tears falling fast and loose down cheeks that don't look a day over thirty. "Hey."

"Hey." She sniffs, taking his hand in both of hers. "I know...I have a lot of goodbyes coming my way. Goodbyes I don't even know about because the hellos haven't happened yet. But you...fuck." She scrubs at her eyes with the back of her wrist. "I don't know what my life looks like without you, Percy. I don't wanna find out."

Oh, he truly does not envy her yawning years. He knows no one who deserves to have her heart broken less than Keyleth does, and yet he knows that so much heartbreak awaits her in the millennium to come. He squeezes her hand, and he prays to the Dawnfather that all of that heartbreak does not quiet her, does not harden her heart from the joys this world has to offer. Keyleth was made for sunlight, for spring flowers, for flight. The shadows will come, but they must not dull her shine.

"Keyleth, Voice of the Tempest." He attempts to gather as much authority into his weak voice as he can muster. "I charge you with not just the welfare of Zephrah, but with that of Whitestone, and of Tal'dorei as a whole. There is no one I trust more to act as steward of these people. Your wisdom, your generosity, your empathy...more than ever, you are needed to bestow your gifts upon Exandria. You know..." He smirks up at her. "We've met gods, Keyleth. And this may not be the best time to blaspheme, but they've got nothing on you."

She throws herself onto him, and it hurts, but he takes it. One last hug from his best friend, from the sister he gained after so much loss. Her tears soak into his neck, and for the first time today, his own prickle behind his eyes. He regrets all of the things he will miss, the wonderful accomplishments of his friends, his progeny, his neighbors. It is such a mortal thing, to know that the world will keep spinning in your absence, and to love and hate the spin for it. But someday, even the ageless Voice of the Tempest will rest, and if the gods know any mercy, he will see her again.

Before she pulls away, a shaking, sniffling mess, she whispers in his ear, "Tell him I still love him?"

He nods. He already knows, but Percy will tell him anyways.

As if on cue, there is a small commotion near the one open window on the far side of the chamber, and everyone turns to see a raven, too large to be natural, resting on the sill, as if it has always been there. There is a cracked sob from Percy's right, and he turns his head to see his wife covering her mouth with her hand.

Just enough time left, then.

"Come here." A small tug to her hand, and she's coming up to sit beside him, hip to hip. She brushes his thin, limp hair from his face, and he struggles to bring her hand, wrinkled and beautiful, to his lips. "What a life, eh?"

Her answering smile is watery. "The best one I could have imagined. It's the best gift you've given me."

"Well, I gave you quite a lot."

"It's my love language, darling, and you were always so fluent."

He laughs at that, and it dissolves into a cough. The raven flutters its wings in his periphery. "Let them take care of you?" His eyes cast over their friends before returning to her crumpled face. "We didn't create this wonderful life together for you to be alone when I'm gone. There are so many people who love you, Vex'ahlia de Rolo, and while I will always be the first among them, in this world or the next, I am not worried for you."

Her hair, unbraided and streaked with silver, spills onto his chest as she leans over him. "I'm not worried for you, either. I know that wherever you're going, I'll find you. I'll always find you. It's kind of my thing, after all." She sniffs loudly. "So take my heart with you, alright? I'll want it back when I get there."

"My extraordinary, incomparable wife. My heart, my judgement. My treasure, my salvation."

Crying, she kisses him, and it feels just like it did that first time, in a snow-capped wood, when they were kids and death was just another monster they could slay. He tastes the salt of her tears and the warmth of her skin and he knows every agony, every loss, every sorrow was always and will always be worth her. For the briefest moment, his heart pinches, a desperate wish to stay, but when his final kiss with his wife ends, he's smiling, because how many men can go to their deathbeds with no regrets?

He looks to his friends once more, each one a gift, a story, a legacy, and with a fading voice, says, "Vox Machina. What an honor it's been to change the world with you." His eyelids feel so heavy; he's already slept so much today. To his wife, he murmurs, "Dear, do you mind if I rest for a moment?"

"Of course, darling." She bends down to kiss his cheek. "Rest now. I'll be here."

The last things he sees are Vex's shining eyes, and across the room, a raven taking flight.

.

When Percy opens his eyes, he sees them, his friends, their heads bowed and shoulders trembling. They are circled around his deathbed, and Percy watches them mourn. It's far and away the strangest scene he's ever beheld.

"Percival Frederickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III."

He turns, a smile already coming to his face. Oh, the ease with which he moves! He looks down at his hands—smooth and dexterous, hands he hasn't seen in years. "Would you look at that."

The black-feathered figure in the corner of the room is masked, so Percy can't see his face, but Percy doesn't need to see the smirk to feel it. "A handsome bastard once again, I see."

"Screw you, I was always handsome."

"No arguments here." The Champion of Ravens strides closer, and Percy can't help but feel a bit intimidated. "Welcome home, brother."

And they are embracing, reunited after so many decades of grief. "Thank you," Vax murmurs, in his strange, not-quite-Vax voice. "Thank you for taking care of them."

"It was my privilege." They separate, and the two dead men look at the ones they've left behind. "We still felt your loss. Every day, we navigated the hole your absence created. Them in particular." He gestures to Vex and Keyleth, who hold hands over his body's torso as they weep. "I just hope I did enough to help them find the way."

"You did. And now it's my turn." Vax sweeps a hand back, and the door to the chamber opens, but instead of the marbled hall he's used to, Percy sees only a brilliant, blinding white light.

Percy frowns. "Is Grog in there? To be honest, I thought he'd be the first to greet me. You know how bored he gets without someone to entertain him."

"I'm afraid I don't know. I only walk to dead to their doors. I don't get to see what's inside."

For the first time today, Percy's heart well and truly breaks. "Well, just know that as long as they live—" He jerks his head toward the remaining members of Vox Machina. "—your sacrifice will not be forgotten."

"I live as long as they live."

Percy chuckles. "First the mask, now the quotes—you want to be me so bad."

"Get in the light before I throw your ass in there, Freddie."

Grinning, Percy claps him on the shoulder as he passes by, letting is strong legs and youthful knees take him toward the door. Just a step away from the frame, he stops, bathed in the warm, mysterious light. He looks back one last time at his family, wonderful and perfect and his, and murmurs, "What a nice story, indeed." And then he steps into the light.

[celestialpinay]

Wrapped in Love

Fandom: Critical Role Characters: Percy De Rolo, Vex'ahlia Pairing: Perc'ahlia Word Count: 1,065 Note: Yes, I know Perc'ahlia Week 2024 is coming up in a month--and I should be focusing on those prompts--but I've been trying to finish up what I didn't for the 2023 prompts. This one in particular was fighting me, but I finally got it to a point where I don't hate it.

[Also found on AO3.]

X-X-X-X-X

Aside from her obvious love for her archery lessons, Vex’ahlia looked back on her woodworking lessons with some level of fondness. They were not something she’d had the opportunity to do often, as Syldor focused more on the twins’ academic and martial studies rather than their artistic pursuits, but they put her at ease in much the same way that archery did, surrounding her with the comforting scent of wood even when she was indoors.

She naturally fell out of practice when she and Vax’ildan abandoned Syngorn, since she lacked access to the full range of necessary tools while they traveled. She picked up small projects where she could just to fill the idle moments, but her woodworking—limited as it was—became delegated to creating more arrows when she couldn’t buy them and carving small personalizing details into her bow. Even when Vox Machina earned Greyskull Keep, she still didn’t get a proper chance to return to it, since it took several months for the keep to be constructed and then their ordeals with the Briarwoods and the Chroma Conclave kept them away from their new home.

It wasn’t until Vox Machina spent some time away from each other that she could actually pick the craft up once more. As she and Percy settled more into Grey Hunt manor—her manor—they curated a workshop space for him, giving him an excuse to spend more time in her vicinity. (Not that he really needed an excuse, of course, but it was one of the reasons he gave Cassandra when she refused to stop needling him about it.) Over time, though, Vex eventually intruded on what she considered his space by installing a small workbench for her own tools, obtained gradually over the first few months of their break. She still didn’t turn to woodworking often, as she did have to focus on her Grey Hunt duties, but in the quiet moments where Percy was holed up in the workshop and she wanted the benefit of his quiet company, she would sit near him and cut and carve and shape the wood into more “frivolous” items.

She started small, carving small details and curling shapes along the curve of Fenthras, sprawling out from where she had made careful, tiny letters out of ‘sinaeth’ as she made the Vestige hers and hers alone. Eventually, she allowed herself to graduate to larger projects: a small bear the size of her palm, a simple trinket box where she began to keep her Earring of Whisper when she wasn’t actively wearing it, a panel of the De Rolo family crest that she hung above the mantle in the main sitting room of the manor. When she regained some confidence in her hands and her skills, she turned her attention to a more complex trinket box, using different woods from across Exandria to represent all the places she and Percy had seen together, determined to create something for the man that spoiled her with his own creations.

x-x-x-x-x

“Darling?” Vex called with a light trio of taps on the doorframe of the workshop.

“Hmmm?” Percy pushed his work goggles up onto his forehead and glanced her way. “Yes, dear?”

“I have something for you.”

“Oh?” His brow furrowed a little in confusion, like he was trying to figure out what the occasion might be.

She nodded, almost hesitant and shy in the gesture. “May I?”

“Of course, dear,” he replied readily.

Vex smiled faintly and crossed the room, holding the completed box—wrapped in dark blue paper—behind her back. Once she stood next to Percy, she set the package down in the spot he had cleared for her on the workbench surface; he seemed even more confused and glanced at her in curiosity.

“Well, go on and open it, darling.”

He nodded slowly and returned his attention to the package, careful and meticulous as he unwrapped the paper. He revealed the most complex section of it—the various wood types carefully cut and arranged to portray a landscape view of Whitestone as she often saw it from one of her favorite hidden spots within the Parchwood—and ran his shaking fingers along the edge of the lid.

“Is this what you’ve been working on when you’ve been spending time in the workshop?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied with a small nod. “You always make such wonderful trinkets for me, darling, and I felt it would only be appropriate to return the favor.”

Percy seemed to be at a genuine loss for words, silent as he looked the box over. The longer the silence stretched on, the more anxious that Vex began to feel, a small and distant part of her remembering the time Syldor had discarded a pipe that she had put hours of work into as a gift to him. Before her thoughts could truly spiral, Percy let out something of a soft laugh as he glanced up at her again.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

Vex smiled, trying not to let her relief show in her posture nor expression. “I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And I thought that you might enjoy something practical rather than purely decorative.”

Percy’s expression softened (oh, how she loved that he only looked at her so) as he said, “I believe it actually serves both purposes, dear. It’s lovely work.”

Vex blinked, startled by the praise. “Oh…! Well… thank you for saying that, darling.”

He tilted his head before he frowned slightly. “You are aware that I’m being genuine, dear? I’m not merely spouting niceties?”

Vex didn’t answer, unsure of how she felt about him knowing exactly what he had inadvertently hit upon, even if that perceptiveness was one of the reasons she cherished him so deeply.

Percy sighed a little and set the box back down on the workbench before reaching out to take both of her hands in his, his tremor seeming to calm as he held onto her. “I do love the box, dear. It’s beautiful and speaks to a skill I did not realize you had. And I’m flattered that you spent so much time and effort on something for me.”

She offered him a shaky smile and, in return, he leaned down to press a kiss to her brow.

“Thank you, Vex’ahlia,” he reiterated when he pulled away. “Truly.”

“You’re welcome, darling.”

[demigoddessqueens]

treasure at dawn

For day 1 of @percahliaweek

series/fics for each day can be found at my ao3 here

It was still early in the morning when Percy awoke. Beside him, Vex was still sound asleep as he saw the soft rise and fall of her chest.

Perfect. Just in time for the surprise.

Slowly rising from the bed, Percy did so as to not wake his wife.

His wife, his love. His Vex’ahlia. It was that certain annual event that always came around, and for this year, Percy wanted to surprise her.

Throwing a silken robe over his person, Percy set off to retrieve the treasure he had set aside for her.

Unbeknownst to the young lord, Vex slowly creaked one of her eyes open as she heard Percy’s footsteps descend down the stairs.

He was never the most subtle one ever, and curiosity was a sixth nature to her. Counting slowly to twenty, she rose from the bed and dressed in simple clothes for the morning until she quietly paced behind him.

Following just a bit behind her husband, Vex did her best not to be detected. Amidst the twists and turns of the elaborate hallways of their house, Vex smiled to herself when she pieced together where he was heading off to.

Down in the house’s main treasury vault, Percy examined the gift beheld within the small box. An elaborate ring held within the green velveteen box. The ornate gold band he had commissioned months back that was fitted with a sapphire gem cut into a flower, and a row of three tiny diamonds that lined both sides of it. Admiring the craftsmanship, he didn't hear her soft footsteps.

Pulled from his thoughts on how to present it to her, Percy felt a light tap against his shoulder.

"You know you were really not that good at hiding surprises from me darling, I don't know why you bother to try."

He jolted in surprise before turning to see his wife's smug expression.

"But--! How did you--? You weren't--."

Her melodic laughter filled the vast chamber, one of the better things to greet Percy this morning.

"I'm your wife, dear, you know me better than that."

Even if it was planned for a different setting, now seemed just as good as any other opportunity. Removing it from the box, Percy took Vex's left hand and gently slipped the fashionable ring onto her delicate finger.

"Still, it was intended to be a surprise, but who am I to keep my lady waiting.”

[sparklegemstone-cr]

Perc'ahlia Week Day 6: Yours / Later

Yay @percahliaweek! Also on AO3.

Forever At My Heart

Summary: Percy's missing. Vex says she doesn't know where he is. (a brief snapshot of dark!Vex'ahlia) This contains minor spoilers / hints of what transpires in C1E63 of the stream and S2E8 of TLOVM.

Keyleth gently knocked on Vex’s door.  It was the room Vex stayed in whenever they were in Whitestone, so Keyleth knew where to find her.

“Come in.”

Keyleth opened the door and stepped up to the threshold.  “Hey, Vex.  I’ve been looking for Percy, have you seen him by any chance?”  She reached out a hand to pet Trinket’s head when he walked over to smell her.

Vex sat on the bed with the contents of per traveling pack spread out before her.  “I can’t say that I have.”

Keyleth stepped fully into the room and grasped her staff with both hands slightly off to the side, disappointment on her face.  “Yeah I—I was hoping, but—no one else has seen him either.  I’m starting to get worried.  It seems like the last time anyone remembers seeing him was the night after we got back from the Feywild.  That was two days ago.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Vex reassured her.  “You know how lost in his projects he gets sometimes.  He’s probably tinkering away in his workshop without the slightest notion of the time.”

“That was my first thought as well, but I’ve checked multiple times.  No Percy.”

“Then perhaps he’s taking an extended stroll of the grounds while dreaming up his next dragon-killing contraption.”  Vex stepped from the bed and in one graceful motion placed a hand on Keyleth’s back and turned them both around to start walking towards the door.

Keyleth turned her head into Vex.  “Are you sure you’re okay?  After everything with Saundor?  That was pretty intense.  I just thought you’d be more concerned—”

“I’m fine.  I’m sure he’s fine.  Honestly, you worry too much Keyleth."

For just a speck of a moment, Keyleth thought that Vex's expression hitched, got stuck in a position that suggested something sewn on and artificial.  It unnerved Keyleth, but it was gone so quickly and Vex was back to her smiling, charismatic self that she wondered if she was just imagining things.

"Percy can take care of himself.  Good luck finding him, though,” Vex bid her as she guided her out the door.

“Thanks—” Keyleth turned around to say, but the door had already shut in front of her.

Vex paused her trek back to the bed, happily waylaid by a bear-sized detour.  She bent down to scritch behind Trinket’s ears.  “Hey buddy.”  She paused, in thought.  “We’re going to have to find you a new way to get around when the terrain gets too difficult, won’t we?”  She switched to scratching under his chin, but he gave a low, unhappy, uncertain rumble and backed out of her reach.

Ignoring the bear's uncharacteristic behavior, Vex straightened to her feet.  “I bet Percy will devise something.  He comes up with the most wonderful things for us.”  She brushed her hand against her collarbone, feeling the almost woody, tendril-like growths decorating the surface of her skin under her tunic, and caressed the amulet hanging prettily just above her heart.  A thin whisp of smoke arose from it at her touch.

Mine.