Chapter Fourteen: Under Your Scars

Being the eldest son of the lord meant a lifetime of training to one day rule. The best education, instruction in diplomacy and statecraft, in law and politics. The mantle of responsibility would rest comfortably only on the shoulders of one well-prepared to accept it. And Wesley, Count Gildspire, tried his best to put all that preparation into practice for the sake of his family and his people. But privately, he wondered if he was really up to the job.

Gods above, had it only been three days?

Three days since a handful of wounded guardsmen had dragged themselves back to the castle to deliver that fateful news. Three days since the world had come crashing down around him, and he'd looked around to find everyone turning to him to keep it all standing.

Three days, and in that time, Wesley had already had to host the Sovereign, bury two of his closest family members, and apprehend their murderer. It was dizzying, overwhelming. And he had no idea where to turn for support.

A knock sounded at the door of his study. Scrubbing his hands down his face, he took a beat to compose himself before standing and calling out, "Enter."

Despite himself, he couldn't help but smile warmly as Percival de Rolo entered the room. Though they hadn't yet had the chance to speak privately, it had been quite the surprise, albeit a welcome one, to see his boyhood friend turn up with the rest of Vox Machina. A familiar face, even one much changed by time and trauma, was a soothing sight in these trying times.

Percy bowed. "Count Gildspire."

"Percival, old friend, there's no need for you to stand on ceremony with me." Wesley stepped forward and embraced Percy as he used to when they were children, playing together on the grounds of one castle or the other while their parents conducted business. He chuckled a bit as the younger man stiffened awkwardly in the same way he remembered. "I insist that you call me Wesley."

"Wesley, then," said Percy with a thin smile. "It is good to see you again. Though I wish the circumstances were better."

"Indeed." He released Percy and stepped back, looking him up and down. His hair had gone prematurely white, and his face had lost all the softness of childhood and the comfortable life of nobility. "The years have not been kind, I'm afraid. There was a time I feared you dead."

"I nearly was," Percy replied darkly. "And for a time, I may as well have been."

Wesley gave a wry smile. "Cryptic as always, Percival."

"Then I shall be direct, this time." Percy met his eyes squarely, the set of his jaw determined. "I want Doctor Ripley to stand trial in Whitestone."

Wesley groaned and put a hand over his eyes, shaking his head. "Ask me for anything else, Percival, and it's yours. But not that. Ripley murdered Kaiya in cold blood, and is responsible, whether directly or indirectly, for the death of my father. She must face justice here."

"She conspired with the Briarwoods to torture and murder my entire family!" Percy ground out. "If you knew what we suffered at her hands—"

"I have seen Kaiya's body, Percival. I know. And for what it's worth, I'm truly sorry for what you endured. But Ripley acted as a pawn of the Briarwoods then. She killed my kin of her own accord." He laid a gentle hand on Percy's shoulder. "But she will be held accountable for what she did to your family. You have my word."

But Percy shrugged him off roughly, eyes blazing. "That's not good enough, Wesley. The people of Whitestone—"

"—are not nearly as invested in Ripley's fate as you and I are. You know that. Do not take me for a fool." Wesley sighed. "I didn't want to have to do this, but I'm afraid I outrank you, Baron de Rolo. My decision is final."

Percy's face hardened. "If that is how it must be." He gave a stiff but courtly bow. "By your leave, then, Count Gildspire." Without waiting to be dismissed, he spun on his heel and strode from the room.

No, Wesley thought as he flopped back into his chair. The years had not been kind at all.

Vex finally found Percy just outside the guest room he'd been assigned for Vox Machina's stay at Castle Gildspire. "There you are, Percival," she said sharply. "Can we talk?"

"Hmm?" Percy blinked as she caught up to him, looking distracted. His face was set in hard lines, frustration burning in his eyes, and she could swear he was so wrapped up in whatever was bothering him that it took him a moment to even recognize her. "Oh, of course, Vex'ahlia. What is it?"

Well, whatever was on his mind, what she had to say wasn't going to help matters. But she couldn't sit on this, not for another minute. "In private, if you please," she said.

"All right, then." He opened the door and gestured inside. Of course he had to be a gentleman when she wanted to be angry. "After you."

As soon as the door closed behind them, Vex whirled around the glare at him. "How could you be so selfish?" she hissed.

Percy's eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"What do I—" Vex folded her arms and gritted her teeth. "You made Vax promise to kill you!"

"Ah. That." He pushed his glasses further up on his nose, having the good grace to at least look a little bit chastened. "I didn't make him, I begged him. There's a difference."

Good Gods, he couldn't have chosen a worse time to be pedantic. "Don't get smart with me, Percival," Vex snapped. "That is not the point here, and you know it!"

"…I know." He looked down, gathering his thoughts, and when he spoke again, his voice was rough. "You saw what Ripley did to Lady Kaiya. She had her for four days. To have killed her so quickly—"

"Quickly?!"

"—was a mercy compared to what she did to me and my family. We were subjected to her… tender care… for weeks." His voice broke on the word. Meeting her eyes again, something in his own hardened—not anger, but resolve. "Let me show you something, Vex'ahlia. So you understand."

Percy shrugged out of his greatcoat, draping it neatly over the back of his chair, then pulled the white ascot from around his neck. After a moment's hesitation, he drew a deep breath and began to unbutton his waistcoat.

Vex knew what he meant to show her. She squirmed. "Percy, darling, you don't have to—"

"I want you to see." Deft fingers moving quickly as if to act before he changed his mind, he opened the top three buttons of his white linen shirt and pulled the collar aside.

Every inch of now-exposed skin was crisscrossed with thick, deep scars, most faded over the years to shades of pink and silver. They disappeared under his clothing in every direction, and Vex guessed they extended over his shoulders and down his back as well. Every line was jagged from being torn open again and again, and most had healed poorly, puckering and pulling. With a trembling hand, Vex reached out to trace some of them, to read the harrowing story they told.

When her fingers made contact, though, Percy gasped and jerked away. Vex looked up in time to see his eyes, which she hadn't realized he'd closed, pop open wide. She pulled her hand back. "I'm sorry, Percy, I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's all right," he said, and cleared his throat as his face flushed. "I just… you startled me, that's all."

Vex's vision blurred with gathering tears as she suddenly understood. Every interaction she'd ever seen him have with another person flashed through her mind at once: his careful formality, his polite distance, his almost prudish modesty. Affection shown in words, in gifts, in gestures, but little actual contact. "Oh, darling," she breathed. "No one's ever touched you like that before, have they?"

Percy looked away, his breath hitching almost imperceptibly. "Not… n-no. Not for a very long time. And not in lo—" He caught himself, blushing furiously. "In… kindness."

(They both chose to ignore the word he'd almost said. They weren't ready.)

As the silence began to turn awkward, Percy cleared his throat again and began to button his shirt back up, eyes downcast and still refusing to meet hers. "Anyway, those are just the marks you can see," he said softly. "The things she did to my family… Ludwig was just four years old. I… I cannot find the words to describe what is sounded like when…" He swallowed hard, shuddering. "Do you understand, now, why I would do anything to not fall under her power again?"

"I do," said Vex around the lump in her throat. "I can't even imagine how you came out of it all with your sanity intact."

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Percy's mouth. "That's very debatable," he said drily.

Vex ignored his halfhearted joke. "But, darling," she pressed, "did you not consider what would happen to Vax? And to me?"

Percy snorted softly as he tugged his waistcoat back into place, slowly gathering his dignity around him once more. "Of course I did. With me gone, Ripley would have had no more reason to hold you. She would have tried to kill you both, of course, but the two of you together have faced far worse than her and survived."

"That's not what I meant, Percival." Vex took his chin firmly in one hand and forced him to look at her. "And you know it."

He sighed. "I know that Vax'ildan thinks fairly little of me," he said. "And you… would have moved on."

Vex slapped him.

Percy stumbled backward as if she'd shot him, one hand pressed to his face, mouth dropping open, glasses askew over eyes wide and wounded. "Vex'ahlia, what—"

"You idiot," she snarled, anger flaring white-hot behind her eyes. "You're supposed to be the smartest of us all. How could you be so Gods-damned stupid?"

"I don't—"

Vex advanced on him, and he continued to back away until he hit the wall. She drove a finger into his chest until he winced. "How can you think so little of yourself, so little of me and my brother, to think that we don't care for you? Are you fucking blind?"

"Vex, I—"

"Vax considers you a brother did you know that?" Vex growled. "Do you know how much that means to him? To us?"

Eyes wide, Percy drew a deep breath, hesitating. "And you?" he asked fearfully, as if he knew the answer would hurt.

Gods above, she never could stay mad at him for long. Not when he looked so… so young and bewildered. Her flash of anger fading, Vex withdrew her finger and laid her hand gently on his chest, rubbing soothing circles over where she'd almost certainly left a bruise. "Must I say it out loud, darling?"

His hand closed over hers, warm and calloused and electric. "Perhaps I need to hear it," he said.

Slowly, she pulled her hand free. Slipping her arms around his waist, she pulled herself to him, tucking her head under his chin and squeezing her eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. The anxious thunder of his heartbeat matched her own. "I would be lost without you, Percival," she whispered as his hands slid slowly, hesitantly, across her back to return her embrace. "Don't you ever, ever do that to me again."