Chapter Text
It was getting dark. The sun was slowly slipping below the horizon, as the last remnants of sunlight bathed the craggy peaks of Zephrah. Ruidus and Catha, already visible in the sky, cast a silverly glow over the village. A stillness had taken over the streets, broken only by the rustle of the wind, the distant hoot of an owl and the rhythmic chorus of crickets hidden in the tall grass.
Inside her home, Keyleth sat alone. Candles flickered across a table scattered with papers, treaties, reports, unanswered letters. She had a glass of wine in her hand. In the other, a quill. She was lost in thought, staring blankly at the wall.
Then, a knock.
The sound pulled her from her reverie, abrupt and unexpected. For a moment, she didn’t move. Few would visit her at this late hour. Fewer still without sending word first.
Keyleth set the glass down and rose slowly, smoothing her dark green dress with one hand. It was a simple yet beautiful garment, woven from soft linen. The material draped effortlessly over her body, flowing down to her ankles. Its hem and cuffs were embroidered with delicate golden threads in the shape of wildflowers. Some of them appeared to be snowdrops. On the back of her chair rested her mantle, a cascade of autumn leaves. She picked it up and draped it over her shoulders as she approached the door.
She opened it.
And there he was.
Vax’ildan. Champion of the Matron of Ravens. Standing on her doorstep like a memory that kept coming back to haunt her. But he wasn’t a memory. Not this time. He was flesh and blood. And he looked different. Not older, though. He hadn’t aged a day since the day she lost him. But compared to the last time she saw him, something had changed. There was color in his face now. Breath in his chest. He looked alive.
His lips parted, his voice soft. “Hi.”
Keyleth swallowed, her breath catching in her throat. “Hi”, she whispered back, holding his gaze. A heartbeat passed before the words tumbled from her. “I’ve been waiting for you. I didn’t know what happened. I thought you might be gone forever.”
“I can’t explain it,” he admitted. “It’s not a fate I ever could see. Honestly, I don’t think she could either. She is out there somewhere, waiting to be found. And it still is my duty to carry out her will.” His eyes didn’t leave hers, “But that duty now brings me home. I am home.”
“Forever?” she asked, afraid of the answer. “Or are you going to leave again?”
Vax stepped closer, the space between them narrowing. For the smallest fraction of a second, his fingers twitched at his sides, an almost imperceptible movement, as if some instinct urged him to reach for her. To trace the familiar line of her wrist, to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. But he didn’t.
“Nothing could ever make me leave again.”
“So much has happened,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“I’m a different person now, Vax.”
His lips quirked upward. “I never expected you to stay the same.”
She stepped aside. “Come inside.”
Vax moved past her without a word. His eyes scanned the room, lingering on the scattered pages on the table, the half-finished glass of wine, and the faint candlelight. Behind him, the door clicked shut, sealing out the evening cold. Keyleth didn’t move at first, her hand still rested on the wood frame.
“I loved you fiercely in life,” he confessed, the words slipping from him like a weight he had carried for far too long. “And forgive me, but I loved you fiercely beyond it as well. And I know how hard that was.” He swallowed. “I have no expectations. But, if you would... could we start over?”
As the words left him, he saw her shoulders stiffened, as though his voice had grazed her like a gentle, painful touch, a reminder of something she’d long buried. Keyleth closed her eyes, letting his words settle into the spaces between her ribs. With one hand pressed to her chest, she drew in a long, steady breath before finally turning to meet his gaze.
“I have been lying in wait in a perpetual stasis,” she admitted, her voice raw with pain. “It felt like falling and never knowing when the ground would come.” Her lips parted, the smallest smile breaking through. “I think I’ve been waiting for my devilish rogue with wings to catch me again. I would love to start over.”
Vax’s breath hitched. For the first time in a long time, something like hope glimmered in his eyes.
“Begin again,” he murmured eagerly.
“But it will have to be a beginning,” she warned softly, “if that’s okay with you.”
“Every good story needs a start,” he said with a smile.
The tension between them shifted, the weight of the past thirty years melting into something simpler. Something lighter.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she said, her voice breaking as tears gathered at her eyes.
“I was never that far away.”
She exhaled a quiet laugh. “I know. That’s part of what always made it so hard.”
He flinched. Guilt flickered in his eyes. He clenched his fists tightly at his sides. He would never be able to fully forgive himself for the pain his selfish desire to somehow remain close to her had caused, how the constant reminder of his presence had only deepened the wounds he had never meant to cause her.
“Maybe we could go on a date,” she suggested softly, pulling him out of his thoughts.
His smile returned. “I would like that very much.”
She straightened slightly, stepping closer and extending a hesitant hand between them as if they were meeting for the first time. “My name’s Keyleth,” she said, “and you’re the love of my life.”
He took her hand gently. “If you will have me, I am yours, Keyleth of the Air Ashari.”
A moment passed.
Keyleth gently withdrew her hand from his. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
Vax let out a soft laugh at the sudden question. “My first glass of wine in a very long time.” His gaze lingered on her lovingly, already missing her touch. “I can’t think of a better person to share it with than you.”
She didn’t reply. She just stepped forward, closing the remaining space between them, and kissed him. At first, he froze. Then his hands rose to cup her face. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks as he kissed her back. Her hands found their way to the back of his neck, tangling in his dark hair. He could feel the slight hesitation in her touch.
When they finally broke apart, breathless and slightly lightheaded, neither could stop the laughter that escaped them. Their foreheads rested together, their noses brushing against each other. Her fingers stroked the nape of his neck as his hands roamed her skin, his fingertips brushing over the curve of her cheek, tracing her lips, as if trying to memorize every inch of her.
Unable to help herself, Keyleth kissed him again. Vax slid his hands to the small of her back, pressing her even closer. Her fingers tightened in his hair, drawing a quiet moan from him as she tilted her head, deepening the kiss. Feeling the heat growing between them, she broke away, resting a hand on his chest to steady herself.
Keyleth let out a breathless chuckle, hiding her flushed face in the crook of his neck.
“I’m going to get that wine,” she murmured against his collar bone. A shiver ran down his back.
She moved toward a wooden shelf. He watched her, his eyes tracing her every motion. The way she removed her mantle to put it back on the chair. The way the candlelight flickered against her skin. The way her hair cascaded over her shoulders as she stretched to reach for a high shelf. The way her fingers curled delicately around the neck of the bottle as he poured the wine. Even with her back turned, she could feel his gaze.
It wasn’t until she faced him again, two glasses now in hand, that she truly saw the intensity of his eyes. Her breath hitched, and a flush crept up her neck, blooming across her cheeks. Vax’s lips curled into a faint smirk, pleased with her reaction.
Keyleth huffed, rolling her eyes as she handed him a glass before leading him to the sofa. “Come on,” she murmured.
Thet sat side by side. Their legs brushed against each other, but neither moved away. She snuggled between the cushions as she brough the glass to her lips to take a slow sip. Vax turned the glass in his hands, watching the deep red swirl before mimicking her and taking a sip as well. He let the warmth settle in his chest before letting his head fall back against the backrest.
“Catch me up,” he asked, looking at her.
Keyleth blinked, confused. “On what?”
“Everything,” he said. “I never stopped watching over you, making sure you were safe, but I missed all the details.” His voice dipped lower, quieter. “That night, the night the Matron let me stay…I didn’t get the chance to talk to you. Not really.”
Keyleth’s fingers traced the rim of her glass absently, her stomach twisting at the memory.
“You disappeared,” Vax continued, and though there was no accusation in his voice, the words still made her heart tighten. “I don’t blame you. I truly don’t. I understand how hard it must have been.” He hesitated before adding, “But I’ve heard my sister’s story. Percy’s. Pike’s. Scanlan’s, Grog’s. Everyone's…except yours.”
She swallowed, suddenly finding it difficult to meet his eyes.
Vax shifted beside her, bringing one leg up onto the sofa, folding it beneath him so he could face her fully. He rested an arm over the back of the couch, fingers grazing the fabric as his other hand cradled his wine glass.
“I’d love to hear it, Kiki. If you’re willing to share it, of course.”
The sound of that nickname coming from his lips caught her by surprise. The familiarity of that simple gesture sent a tight ache through her chest. Her throat tightened. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes before she could stop them. Vax leaned in, his fingers brushing her cheek, catching one before it could fall. His hand lingered for a second.
She drew a shaky breath, then covered his hand with hers, their fingers tangling.
“Alright,” she whispered, her voice steadier now. “What do you want to know?”
She pulled their hands to her lap, exhaling slowly.
“It’s a long story.”
Vax’s thumb brushed over her knuckles. “Then it’s a good thing we have all night ahead.”
A quiet laugh slipped from her lips. And just like that, she began.
She spoke of the burdens she had carried and the battles she had fought. She spoke about the weight of leadership. Of the Air Ashari and Zephrah. Of the people who had come to rely on her, who followed her, who believed in her.
She told him about Jirana, the gentle old galapa who had helped her deal with her grief after losing him. About her mother, Vilya, how she’d returned, and how the Mighty Neid made that possible. About Derrig and his son, Will. Names she carried like scars. About Orym, the kindness of his heart, and Bell Hells who always stood beside him.
She spoke of the lighter moments, too. The festivals. The firelit nights. The births of Pike and Scanlan’s children. The way Percy and Vex’s kids had grown up to be so much like him and his sister.
And Vax listened.
He soaked in every word like it was proof she had lived, that she had thrived. Even without him.
The hours slipped past unnoticed, the night stretching on without them realizing. And they slowly relaxed, becoming more comfortable in each other's presence.
And little by little, they started to feel less like strangers.