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waltwhitmansbeard · 1 year

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go on, claim my heart: chapter ten

see my masterpost for what came before this. inspired by @romeoandjulietyouwish's medieval au.

The remaining miles to Syngorn pass in a haze of exhaustion and worry, and Keyleth remembers little of them as the days bleed together. It seems like years before they crawl up to the stunning gates of Syngorn, and she almost feels a sprig of hope curling up in her chest, until she remembers how much longer they must travel to get to Whitestone.

Before they emerge from the trees to approach the Syngornian guards, Vax and Vex tell her and Percy to fall to the back of the ground, their hoods up and their heads lowered. When she asks why, Vex explains, "You are very recognizable here, Keyleth. Both of you are. If we are to surreptitiously visit our father—" Her voice is dripping with acid. "—then doing so with a princess and an Ashari councilmember in tow is not the best way to go about things."

Luckily, Keyleth has never looked less like a princess in her life than she does now, after days on the road with no bath and no change of clothing. Vax has been doing his best to brush out her hair each night—oh, the nights, when they are alone, when their shared grief compounds into a storm so savage all they can do is cling to each other and try to keep afloat—but there are tangles and dirt and sweat in her locks that make her look far more like a peasant woman than a future sovereign.

Still, she does as she is told, falling behind the others with Percy as the guards come closer and closer into view. Vax does the talking, announces a social visit to his father, Lord Syldor Vessar, as they pass through on business for the Ashari Nation. The guards seem reluctant to let them in, especially while side-eying Grog's too-eager grin, but Vax assures them that they plan to be in and out as quickly as possible, and eventually they relent. Keyleth keeps her hood up as far as she can and avoids the guards' eyes as she passes them by, hoping none of them were working in the citadel the summer before last.

Vex leads the way through the streets of Syngorn, and Keyleth can see by the set of her shoulders how tense she is. Vax has spoken of their shared disdain for the city and its elitist inhabitants, of their torment as the half-elven illegitimate children of a prominent diplomat, and Keyleth knows it is only these most dire of circumstances that has brought them back here of their own volition. They stop by a stable to board their horses when they are close to their destination, and then the party walks the rest of the way, Vax's hand firmly in hers.

As a politically connected man, Syldor Vessar lives not far from the Emerald Citadel where Keyleth spent far too many days at the end of the war with Draconia. Last night, Keyleth had asked Vax why he did not participate in the facilitation of the peace talks, as many other Syngornian diplomats did, and Vax explained that he was asked by the Draconians to abstain, as it was believed that his connection to two Ashari citizens might influence his work in the interests of the Ashari Nation. Vax told her this with a tone of irony, as if he would have predicted the opposite. Keyleth wonders if he's right as they approach a large marble and stone estate with spiraling pillars and turrets, a most impressive abode indeed. As they approach the wrought-iron gate, which is flanked by two guards dressed in all white, Keyleth looks through to the sprawling lawns and tries to imagine a young pair of twins running around, laughing and playing, but she cannot conjure the image, not with what she knows of their time here.

As Vax and Vex approach the guards, Keyleth is once again relegated to the back of the group with her hood up. The fewer people who know that she is here, the better. She hovers behind Grog, easily overshadowed by his sheer mass, and listens to Vax argue to be let in. The guards are hesitant, citing a need for an invitation, but eventually Vex snaps, "Let us in or so help me I will go to the High Warden herself."

Once the name of the High Warden is invoked, the guards relent, and the party travels the long path up to the magnificent home. Vax pounds a fist on one of the massive doors, and it's a good forty-five seconds before it creaks open and a rail-thin, elderly elven man with long, wispy silver hair appears, his eyes narrowed and his nose upturned. "May I help you?" His voice is twisted with doubt as he takes in their disheveled appearances and Grog's enormous form.

"We need to see Syldor," Vax states tonelessly, very much not asking.

"Ah...Lord Vessar is...not taking visitors at the moment." The door starts to inch closed. "Better to make an appointment next time."

The door starts to close in earnest now, and Vax shoves a foot in to stop it. Before he can say anything, though, Keyleth shoves through the group and yanks her hood down. "Tell your master that Princess Keyleth of the Ashari Nation demands an audience. Now."

The butler's eyes widen at the sight of her, and after a brief flash of doubt, he bows low and steps back, motioning for the group to enter. They do, and after the butler disappears down a hall to the left, they find themselves in a vaulted foyer dripping with art and gold. Every inch of this place was created to flaunt wealth, and Keyleth, who grew up in a castle of all places, wishes for nothing more than to be home in the little cottage she shares with Vax and Vilya.

Fingers nudge hers, and she turns to see Vax beside her, lacing their hands together. His jaw is rock-solid, and she watches his eyes dart around, always on high alert. Just over his shoulder, Vex stands with her arms crossed tight across her chest, and when Percy goes to place a hand on her shoulder, she jerks away, shaking her head.

There is a spiral staircase leading up to further floors above, and Keyleth spots a small face poking through the balusters of the banister all the way at the top. When her eyes meet those of the little girl spying on them from on high, the girl's face blooms in surprise and disappears, and Keyleth has a sneaking suspicion Vax has one more sister than he had been accounting for.

The butler reappears in the foyer and bids them to follow. The troupe winds its way through a series of marbled halls, the walls lined with gorgeous Syngornian artwork, until they reach a set of polished oak doors. The butler opens them to reveal a sprawling study, with bookshelves that reach up over twice Grog's height and plenty of comfortable seating for reading. In the center of the room stands a dramatic cherry wood desk, behind which sits a man who looks so similar to Vax, Keyleth does a double-take. There is some age to this elven man's face, though, just a hint of it around the eyes, and then, of course, there are the ears, so long and elegantly pointed, so different from Vax's. She squeezes her husband's hand, and receives a squeeze in return. The group enters, and the doors close behind them.

Lord Syldor Vessar stands and sweeps out from behind his desk, arms extended magnanimously. "Your Highness!" Once he is in front of the party, he sketches a polite bow before straightening and clasping his hands together. "To what do I owe this most surprising honor of your visit?"

Keyleth is speechless. His children stand before him, but he has not spared them a single glance. Instead, his eyes are trained on Keyleth, though she watches them bounce between her smudged face, her knotted hair, and of course, her small ears. She can feel heat gathering in her palms, and she focuses quickly on dismissing it, not wanting to burn Vax's hand. "Lord Vessar, thank you for taking our meeting on such short notice."

He ducks his head graciously. "Of course, Your Highness. The Ashari Nation is a long friend of Syngorn, and I would be loath to refuse a call from such a friend." Keyleth hears the unspoken question; he's dying to know why she’s called in the first place.

"You should know up front that I do not come to you as Princess Keyleth of the Ashari Nation, though that is the title I used to get myself past your tenacious butler." His face folds in confusion. "I come to you as your son's wife, and more importantly, your granddaughter's mother."

Cold realization crawls across Syldor's face. For the first time, his eyes flick to his children's faces, and then down to Vax's hand in hers. "Yes." His voice has taken on a derisive tone. "I had heard that you had wed far beneath your station. Though I suppose different nations do things differently, do they not?"

Keyleth seethes. He has insulted her husband and her nation in a single breath, and she is tempted to reach a hand out and rip the air from his lungs. "You are woefully out of touch, Syldor." His eyes flash at the use of his common name. "But I care little for what you know of my life. I need other information from you."

Syldor's nostrils flare, and he hisses out, "With all due respect, Your Highness, I am not one of your citizens. You cannot order me as you might any of your companions here." He sweeps a hand toward the rest of the party. "I answer to the High Warden of Syngorn, and even taking this meeting without her authorization creates problems for me."

"Father." Keyleth nearly jumps, so startled is she by Vax's quiet voice in her ear. Syldor's dark eyes rest on his son's face contemptuously. "I am begging for your aid."

Something flickers across Syldor's face—recognition? pity?—before he says, "You seemed quite eager to relieve yourself of my aid when you and your sister absconded in the middle of the night with money stolen from the family coffers." This revelation is news to Keyleth, though she refuses to let it show on her face. "What could you possibly ask of me now, all these years later?" He jerks his head toward Keyleth. "You seem to have done quite well for yourself, all things considered."

"Our daughter has been kidnapped." Keyleth has no idea how he's keeping his voice so placid, as though he doesn't even hear the scorn in his father's voice. "She was taken from her bed in the middle of the night. She is not even old enough to speak. We need information on the city-state of Whitestone and its current caretakers, the Lord and Lady Briarwood, whom we have every reason to believe responsible for her abduction. We also need supplies and food, whatever you can spare. We need these things quickly, and we need them discreetly." He swallows hard. "Please."

There is an agonizing silence, in which Syldor's eyes bounce between each of their faces. It is as if he's searching for some sign of deception, as if he worries he's being played. Eventually he settles back on Vax, to whom he says, "I cannot help you."

Before Keyleth can even blink, Vex is shouting. "You prick!" Keyleth turns to watch her storming forward, wrenching her arm from Percy's grasp. She marches right up to point in her father's face. "She is a child! She is your blood! And you cannot deign to help your son save her life? You cannot lower yourself to aid your own fucking granddaughter?"

Vax surges forward to yank his sister back, tossing her into Percy's arms. "Can you bring everyone outside?" he murmurs, and Percy nods.

"No," Vex spits. "No, I am not leaving you with him, not again." But Percy is already dragging her back toward the door, which Grog holds open. Pike and Scanlan file out first, Percy hauling a cursing Vex out behind them. Grog looks hesitantly at Keyleth, as if waiting for her to come along as well.

"Go on, Grog," she says quietly, before turning to Vax. "Every part, remember?"

There's reluctance in his eyes, and Keyleth is sure he doesn't want her to be party to whatever conversation is about to happen. She doesn't care. She will not be kept on the outside any longer, will not allow the man to whom she has sworn herself to hide behind closed doors the shades of himself he'd rather she not see. They are partners, and if they are to bring their baby girl home, they will tear this horrid man apart to do it—together.

#critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #vaxleth #vaxleth fic #vaxleth au #vox machina #vox machina fic #vox machina au #tlovm #tlovm fic #my fair lady #go on claim my heart #my fic

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mollymaymaukme · 5 years

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Mollymauk x Reader: From Beyond the Grave, Part 10

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11,

Molly barely manages to stay upright as he rounds the corner. Desperately chasing after the feeling that was now just a cold void inside of him. He does not take notice of the unusually large raven sitting in the willow, only what has been planted beneath it.

“Y/n” The sound a husky whisper as tears begin to spring forth into his vision. His steps slow as he comes to your still body. Falling to his knees as agony rips into his chest and tears at his heart. “. . .to late. . .my love I’m sorry.” His words barely making their way through his sobs.

Caduceus felt the abrupt change in his graveyard the moment it happened. The Nein watching as his face fell blank, sorrowful eyes turning to where Molly had just disappeared behind the temple. “Lily. . .”

Yasha takes one look at where Molly had gone, Caduceus’ expression, and back to the Nein before she seems to make a decision. The barbarian quickly makes her way around the temple and the rest of the Nein follow in confusion.

The others were quicker, the firbolgs lagging behind the pack, and the scene they came upon only spurred their confusion more.

Yasha’s head was bowed and Molly was limp in her hold as ugly sobs racked his body. The body of a girl only half buried was ashen and paled in death. In the branches above the trio a giant raven sat watch, its own head bowed as though it understands whatever tragedy took place.

Caduceus puts a hand on Beau’s shoulder before she can speak. “How about you all follow Nila inside and have a cup of tea?” The firbolg normally so easy going had the slightest strained edge to his tone. Silently urging the others to do as he asks so he can deal with this new development.

Before they can follow his request or protest it there is a choked spluttering coming from the shallow grave. Darkened blood and fluids flying from her lips in droplets and small streams that travel down her skin in grotesque contrast.

Molly practically flies from Yasha’s arms to the girls side. “Y/n?!” Trembling hands try to clear the blood from her face and only succeeds in smearing it. “Y/n, please stay with me.” She has resumed breathing although it is a wet and withering sound, every third breath she chokes and must sacrifice the next breath to cough the fluid up.

The tiefling turns wide eyes frantically to the group “Jester, Caduceus-- heal her!” His voice breaking as he begs.

Jester shoots a bewildered look to the other Cleric and is stilled from going forward to help by the firbolgs slow shaking of his head. Caduceus slowly makes his way to the trio and kneels on the other side of the girl, his calla lily. “I’m afraid we cannot” His voice seems to physically cut into Molly.

“What do you mean?! Yes you can. She is obviously hurt!” He gestures forth with his bloodied hands to prove his point.

A tired sigh “That kind of magic only works on the living. . .and she is not.”

“She is breathing! She is-”

Yasha seems to understand, at least in some small part, what Caduceus is trying to convey and silences the tiefling with a soft squeeze to his shoulder. “Molly. . .” Her always soft voice rippling with her own grief.

“I don’t understand. . .why would I be led here if we can’t help?” His franticness leaves between one breath and the next. Shoulders sagging as he trails fingers across her cheeks and smooths her hair back.

“Only the gods could say. And I don’t think we are dealing with just one anymore.” Caduceus shoots a wary look up to the raven. Unnerved how its gaze never leaves Calla Lily. He sighs and turns his own gaze back to her, “Her grip is fading. I can feel it.” He looks up at Molly. The tiefling so lost and helpless as he stares down at his lover. “The Wildmother helped keep her here. But I think I understand now, that Calla lily couldn’t wake up because she was giving the life the Wildmother gave her to you.”

“Oh why do you have to be so stupidly self sacrificing?” Molly groans as he cradles her face in his hands. Wishing that she would wake and push her cheek further into the heat of his hand, like she always did--even in her sleep she would always curl closer to him. But she remained still with only the small rises of her chest to assure him she was not yet dead.

But even that small assurance did not alleviate the despair of her current state.

The Nein recognize the anguish that the dead leave behind for the living in the way Molly clutches at strands of her hair, body hunched over her as though to protect her from the non existent wind. In the way Yasha rubs small circles into the tieflings back with her gaze lowered to the ground unable to look at the girl. Even Caduceus seemed more dull in his mannerisms, eyes telling of his own pain that ran deep and jagged.

Kitor comes forward to herd them away from the grieving. Nila and Asar long ago had gone back inside to keep the child from witnessing the scene. “Let us go have that cup of tea like Caduceus suggested.”

They do not resist, although their retreat is hesitant as they long to comfort their friends. Caleb tosses a last look over his shoulder before snapping his fingers and following after the others. The orange tabby materializing beside Yasha and going to curl up in her lap.

“C’mon y/n. Come back to me. You can do it my lovely wild woman. If anyone can do it its you.” Molly whispers against her hair before leaving a lingering kiss on her forehead.

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“Wake up Y/n”

Your eyes slowly open to find only a dark space speckled with lights that shimmer to much to be the stars in a night sky. The tired ache and echoing pains are still present in your body but unlike before you could clearly feel the biting cold. Shivering violently as the chill takes hold of you as it has been unable to do since you were laid in the grave.

A cold hand urges you to sit up before it drapes a black cloak over you. The feathered thing did not hold the owners heat but it did help ease the chatter of your teeth. You look to the man who was kneeling beside you. He had distinct elven features that were cut with human flaws. Half elf then. Inky hair falling in straight curtains brightly contrasted by a colorful strand just to the side of his face.

“I am Vax’ildan. But you can call me Vax.” His eyes are sympathetic as he helps you stand.

“Where am I?” Your voice small and rasped unpleasantly.

“The Court of the Raven Queen.”

You nod without protest to being here. But something wasn't’ right. You could still feel your heart stuttering along, so unlike the expected condition of most guests to this plane.

You need Vax’s assistance to walk. Your body so pitifully weak and broken, your soul still tethered to the mortal plane could not grant you energy from there.

From the darkness emerges a grand pavilion. Inside was an ornate throne, all carved in the same black marbles and obsidians, where a tall figure sat. You did not need to be told who it was. This was the Raven Queen.

Vax has to help you kneel before her throne and then again help you stand.

“I am pleased my champion” Her porcelain masked features prevent you from seeing her lips move but even her words seemed to echo all about you. You cannot see her pupils but it is a tangible feeling when her gaze moves to you that forces your head to bow. “As for you. I am far less thrilled to have you in my court again.”

“Again?” A shivered word so quiet you don’t think she heard it at first.

Talons tap against the marble slowly “I suppose having a soul tampered with so much would lead to memory loss.” She sighs.

Before you can ask for clarification a bright light grows from across the space. Briefly forcing you to cover your eyes. Once it has ebbed away you look back over to see another woman. You feel an unconditional pull and devotion to her.

“Wildmo-”

“Melora. Fashionably late as always.” The Raven Queens head swings to look at the newcomer.

“Can’t rush a tide Raven dearest.” Her voice bring you warmth in this desolate plane.

“Oh my dear child.” She tuts as she strides towards you. Your eyes completely entranced by her.

Dark skin was tinted with green that shimmered under the specks of light dotting the darkness, her hair tumbling down her back in green mosses woven with colorful blooms. Blue eyes that gazed upon you constantly swirling and shifting like the ocean. Russet feathers and vines twined about her form to clothe her in a surprisingly flowing gown that trailed in her wake.

Vax bows his head in respect to her and steps back as she cradles your face in her hands. “You’re wilting my lovely. My poor child.” She brushes her fingers through your hair and you are immediately invigorated with a new humming energy that grants you both strength and warmth. “But the suffering isn’t for naught, you’re doing such a good job. Those children especially. I am so very proud of you child.” She smiles down at you softly.

“Let us not forget what we are here for Melora.” The Raven Queen seems tired of the scene before her.

“A moment Raven dearest, I am meeting my chosen for the first time face to face.” She turns back to you with a secretive grin “Well, not the first. But the first in your memories.”

Your mouth opens and closes for several moment before you manage a soft, “Hello” even your voice improved and unwavering.

“Hello y/n.” She kisses your forehead “Let us get to business and hopefully get you back to that Moonweaver disciple sooner rather than later.”

The Wildmother steps away and goes to take a place beside the Raven Queen’s throne. Branches sprouting forth from her fingertips to twine and grow into her own throne.

“Now we may finally start” The Raven Queen straightens her form and her dead eyed mask stares straight through you. “You wish to return your chosen to the living, yes?” Melora nods with a bright smile. “I will grant your request. . .only if you give me the soul of Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

#mollymauk #mollymauk critical role #cr #cr2 #mollymauk fic #mollymauk fanfiction #mighty nein #critical role #fjord #yasha #beau #jester #caleb #nott #caduceus clay #caduceus #mollymaymaukme #fix it fic

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