There's a moment where Percival is suddenly being accosted by a bear that Essek worries he should do something, but everyone seems quiet calm; amused, even. Percival certainly shows no sign of distress beyond being jostled. It doesn't escape Essek's notice, when he looks more closely, that the blue ribbon around Trinket's neck is the same color as Vex'ahlia's blouse. A strange choice of pet, but at least the bear seems to be in good health, unlike other animal companions he could name.
Essek greets each present member of Vox Machina, shaking hands a little awkwardly where it is offered. It isn't exactly a common custom among the Kryn, though he's practiced doing it much more often since his relocation to Whitestone. There are giants and half-giants in Xhorhas, so Grog isn't quite the tallest person Essek has ever met, but it is quite a near thing, and he has to crane his neck to look up at him.
The group seems more or less at ease, and glad to be reunited with Percival, but Essek can tell when he's been observed and measured. He keeps his poise admirably, because that is what he knows how to do.
"Having heard so much about each of you, I am glad that we could meet at last," he says, hands folded primly together in front of him. "As Percival has said, I am Essek Thelyss, his husband of...nearly seven months now." He glances at Percy himself as he says this, and can't help the bit of fondness that creeps up on him, curling his lips into a faint smile. "I understand that you must have questions about this, and I hope to put your minds at ease."
But Keyleth is cut off with a vague wave of Vex's hand. "Percy, darling, why don't you show Keyleth and Pike some of the new improvements, I think I'd very much like to settle with some tea."
As she speaks, she keeps her gaze locked on Essek.
"Hey, what about me?"
"Maybe the people in town need help with some heavy lifting," Vex suggests. She pointedly ignores the look that Percy is giving her, though she can feel it boring into the back of her head. She won't be swayed, and he certainly knows that.
Percival gives up trying to silently bully Vex into compliance and instead turns his attention to Essek as Keyleth moves to his side.
"Do you mind?" he asks. He wishes he'd thought to put on the whisper earring, but it hadn't occurred to him that he might need it.
They do need to. Otherwise unanswered questions will breed suspicion, and Essek can't have that hanging over him all week--not from people he actually wants to like him, if only for Percival's sake. He's lived that life long enough.
"Not at all," he says smoothly, meeting his husband's eye. His concern is sweet, but Essek can handle himself. He can feel Vex'ahlia's shrewdly assessing gaze, sharp and fixed on him. This is something he is prepared for. "There is much that they should see. Enjoy yourselves, and have some tea sent up for us?"
He touches Percival's elbow lightly with a small quirk of his lips that he hopes is reassuring before facing Vex'ahlia again, sweeping a hand toward the comfortable chairs arranged by the fireplace. This is one of the private sitting rooms, much less formal than the ones for receiving guests that aren't so personal.
"Please join me, Vex'ahlia, and make yourself comfortable," he invites. There is no sound as he floats across the thick rug to the chair on the right, followed by a soft rustle as he lowers his feet to the floor so that he can sit, knees tight together and hands folded in his lap.
Vex gives Percy a smile of her own as Pike steers him out of the room with Keyleth and Grog in tow. Trinket stays and sprawls in front of the fireplace again. She settles back down in a chair that isn't fully facing Essek's, but certainly angled toward him.
"I hope you don't mind," she says, with a sort of undertone that suggests she wouldn't care if he did. Her eyes are bright, but there is nothing cruel there. Only assessment. "I also hope you don't mind if I speak bluntly. We can do the whole talk-around-the-subject thing, but I don't care to be misunderstood."
Neither does she want to run the risk of misinterpreting this man. She sits back as tea arrives and the tray is left on the little table between the chairs.
When the servant who brings their tea is gone, Essek shakes his head. He certainly can talk around it, and would even say he is skilled in that area, but in this case it would only harm rather than benefit him when his goal is, for once, honesty--as much honesty as he feels comfortable with, at least.
Likewise, there is no animosity in the way he regards Vex'ahlia. But he is coolly composed, layering the Shadowhand's unflappable calm over his own anxiety.
"No. In fact, I am appreciative. I too prefer that we be clear with one another." Though it isn't yet fully steeped, Essek reaches for his tea cup just to have something to hold, gripping the handle with deceptive delicacy. "Share your thoughts, and I will do the same."
"I was ready to fight half the Council when I heard they were selling Percy off into marriage."
She knows that is a slight exaggeration, if only because Percy probably could have avoided it if he really tried to. But he hadn't. He'd just let it happen, and Vex wasn't sure what part of all of it bothered her most.
"He gives up so much of himself," she says, quieter, as she looks at the tea cup waiting for her. "When I heard about all this, when I managed to talk about it with him... I worried he was still--" She pauses, trying to think of the words she wants to use with this man. What does he know? What has Percy shared? "Still trying to make up for his failures."
What he called his failures. Vex frowns and fixes her tea the way she likes it once it's done steeping.
"He insists that isn't the case, but he can be a damn liar if he thinks he's saving anyone grief."
Essek remains carefully neutral as Vex shares how outraged she'd been on first hearing the news. That comes as no surprise. It had been obvious enough that Percival was downplaying things when he'd mentioned a few of his friends having objections. But when she's continues, it's...it's so clear how well she understands Percival, and how much she cares for him. Though Essek prickles instantly with uncharitable feelings of jealousy, it also makes her much more sympathetic. This isn't the turn he'd expected this conversation to take, especially straight away, and he has to consider his response in silence for a long moment.
"You are correct, of course," he says at last. He hasn't put anything more in his tea, but he raises it to take a sip anyway. "I do believe his agreement to this union was an act of penance, though he may not regard it as such. He ascribed the benefits of our marriage for Whitestone more worth than the pursuit of his own happiness in love or family."
Essek's frown is delicate, but present, and his brow furrow slightly to match. "He wishes to atone for the pain he has caused in his life and avoid causing more, and he wishes as a leader to make decisions that will benefit his people, which is admirable. But he deserves..." His mouth curls down further. "He is a good man. Among the best I have ever known. He deserved better than to marry a stranger from an unknown land for whom this was the only recourse."
She's surprised that Essek has, maybe, considered all of that. Or noticed Percy's tendencies. And at least Essek thinks - or is willing to say out loud - that Percival is a good man. He is. Vex will always believe that he is.
She sighs and takes a sip of her tea.
"It's probably more than that, if I'm giving him credit. He's wanted to strengthen Whitestone's position ever since... everything. Part of that means building firm ties with other parts of Tal'Dorei. Or elsewhere."
She's quiet for a moment, looking at Essek but no longer boring into him with sharp scrutiny. She isn't entirely won over, but he's gained some points in his favor. At least he doesn't seem to be blatantly taking advantage.
"Maybe he does. But I also know exactly how well he'll take to any of us meddling. He's made his decision and he will stand by it. And if you do care about him, I... hope for the best. For both of you."
There's another pause, then she adds: "And I am obliged to say that if you to hurt him, I will hunt you down to put an arrow through your eye myself."
"In that he has been successful," Essek admits. "The Kryn Dynasty is a powerful ally, and immensely grateful to him for taking me off their hands." He says the last part wryly, with a grimace. "Among other things."
They look at one another in silence, still carefully assessing, but Essek thinks he has a better measure now for her trepidation. It is the concern of any loved one--that the person they love be happy and well taken care of. He doesn't know how to promise her those things, because his confidence in his ability to bring others happiness is still low. But by the Light, he is trying, and will continue to try. He wants to be a spouse and companion worthy of Percival's pride and affection.
"I care about him." He says this firmly, with resolve. "Though that was not the reason we married, it is my intention to be a good partner to him regardless." Much of him still that feels embarrassed and wary to be admitting something so personal, let alone to a woman he has only just met. But he allows this to be an extension of his trust in his husband. If these are the people Percival puts his faith in, then Essek must chance doing the same. "And if I should fail in that, I expect no less."
Vex'ahlia smiles behind her cup and it show sin her eyes.
"I'm glad we understand each other." She sits back again, the tension slowly leaving her shoulders. "He's family and we love him. Well, Keyleth, Pike, and I love him. I think he and Grog will always be a little at odds."
She shakes her head, more amused than anything. Then she breathes a gentler sigh, not quite relief, but near it. Vex isn't here to demand difficult promises, not when she knows how easy they are to break. One can promise to never hurt someone they care for and do it anyway.
"I expect Percy will keep them busy for a little while. So now I must insist you give me as much gossip as you are willing, with the knowledge that I have seen Percy fight bare assed and have absolutely seen him at his worst."
Though Vex'ahlia visibly relaxes, Essek isn't foolish enough to think that he has won her over, not so soon. But this conversation has at the very least put him somewhere in the vicinity of her good graces, which is far closer than he was before.
In the interest of cementing this fairly amicable truce, Essek gamely shares some gossip, though only of the sort he thinks would be more amusing than embarrassing for his husband. Among other things, he shares that their first real kiss had been in a hallway at a formal event (though he doesn't say when, or which one), that Percival has been attempting to teach him how to ride horses for months with little success, and that he has generously furnished his entire tower for him, which he offers to give her a tour of this week whenever she wishes.
Through anecdotes, he paints a picture of their marriage so far, though anything too personal--and anything verging on sexual--is omitted. Percival himself can decide what he wishes to share with his close friends; Essek won't be the revealer. However, what is clear as he talks, perhaps even more than he realizes or intends, is his fondness for his husband, and his gratitude at being so fully accepted by him.
For her part, Vex tells a few mostly harmless stories: she does tell the one about being attacked while taking a long rest with Percy jolting awake and joining the fray in just his long johns while laughing maniacally. And, just because there is only so much Percy will brag about, she mentions the time he hit an invisible target in low light in the middle of a fight.
There's other stories, too. Leaving a note for the fairies in the Faewild while they napped, a few involving little kind things he'd done for her or other members of the party. Because if Essek is going to reveal his fondness, Vex thinks it's only fair she reveal her own.
Some time later, Percival reappears.
"Would you two care to join us? We're going into town." It seems as good a time as any to see the preparations for Winter's Crest. The festival will start in earnest soon.
While Essek genuinely enjoys Vex'ahlia's stories because they're entertaining and because he is eager to learn more about Percival, he also can't help the jealousy that simmers beneath. She must have an endless number of tales from the years they have known one another and the things they have done. And the way she speaks about him is...telling. Essek had gotten the sense even before today that of all of his adventuring friends, Percy was closest to Vex'ahlia, but it is becoming clear to him that it is--or was--more than that.
He tells himself that he cannot begrudge anyone for loving Percival, nor Percival for loving anyone else. It would be uncharitable of him, not to mention hypocritical when he still has his own connections he can't let go of completely. Still, it sours his stomach a little despite his best effort to be better than this, and a little of that dread from earlier creeps back in, unbidden and unwanted.
Selfishness like this is familiar to him. It is one of his worst traits, one he genuinely hopes to improve upon. But after a century and more steeped in his own arrogant habits, it will take longer than a year to become a better man, no matter who loves him.
Though Essek's discomfort is not so great as to be obvious--he is far more skilled than that--it is still a relief when his husband returns to invite them on an outing. With a flick of a finger, he moves a curtain across the room aside enough to gauge how bright it is outside. Too bright, of course. But at this time of afternoon, at least it will only get darker.
"Indeed," he agrees, getting to his feet and resuming his floating cantrip in the same motion. "I would welcome an outing today, if you will permit me a few minutes to acquire more layers."
Percival resists the urge to invite himself to join Essek as he dresses for the afternoon. While he would very much like to check in with his husband following a prolonged conversation with Vex'ahlia, he also doesn't want Essek to think he's hovering. They can talk later, surely.
Still, Percy stays right where he is as Essek passes, lightly catching his husband's fingers in a tender hold and gentle squeeze before letting him go again. An excuse to touch him. Their eyes meet momentarily before Percival's attention is drawn back to Vex and Trinket.
By the time Essek is ready, the rest of the party has bundled up for the trip down to the town of Whitestone. Percival is in a dashing blue coat that sweeps down to his ankles, and there is not a horse in sight.
"Vex suggested we walk," he says when Essek arrives. "Since the weather is so clear."
Vex'ahlia's eyes are bright as she looks at Essek. "Unless you have a quicker way for us to get there," she says, utterly casual but leaving that door wide open for the drow wizard to walk through if he'd like. She has nothing against teleporting.
There's a swell of affection in Essek's chest as their eyes meet and Percival's hand squeezes his reassuringly. He gives a brief smile and a returning squeeze before he departs. Light, this man makes him want to believe in him. That feels dangerous.
Today Essek dressed in his dark cloak with the collar of thick white fur. It was enough to keep him warm in Eiselcross, so it is plenty here. Before he joins the rest of them, he pulls the deep hood over his head to shield his eyes from the sun. Though he has to squint, it helps him to see Percival, which is worthwhile. That coat is so handsome on him, and the color is striking on a background of winter white. He drifts to his side and turns his back to the sun as soon as he can. The absence of horses would be reassuring if the alternative wasn't walking. He'll be half blind before they get into the city.
From beneath the shadow of his hood looks rather pointedly at Vex'ahlia as she speaks, sensing something of a challenge and rising to meet it with a cool self-assurance just this side of arrogance.
"I have prepared a spell for that purpose today," he says evenly. "If no one objects, we'll take a shortcut. Gather close, everyone." He looks to his husband. "Where would you prefer to arrive?"
Percival looks between Vex and Essek, one brow lifting subtly. It would be difficult to miss the blithe response, especially knowing what his husband is capable of. He can hear Grog grumbling, but his attention shifts to his husband. He loves seeing Essek in the winter. He knows the cold does the drow no favors, but his dark skin and the dark aesthetic he prefers is striking. He wants very much to kiss him.
He considers their options. As much as he would like to go directly to Dawnfather Square, it's likely far too busy to safely teleport there.
"Trinket's park," he answers. He's shown Essek the open green space adjacent to the city but within the wall. It's not a long walk from there to the square and once they're in the city, some of the buildings will provide shade for Essek.
He looks at the big goliath and Trinket.
"Well, both of you will need to be closer, unless you should like that we leave half of you behind."
Trinket's park. Right. That makes more sense now. Essek nods. It's a sensible location. In in the Shadowhand's best charming, but don't test my patience tone, he says, "I do not intend to bisect any bears or goliaths today, but there is only so much I can do if you refuse to join us. Come."
As he waits expectantly for them to shuffle closer, he reaches for Percival beside him and loops an arm through his, glancing up at him with a flicker of a smile. Thankfully, he has plenty of experience gathering large groups of unruly adventurers for this purpose.
"Good," he says primly when they've all moved into range, sheepishly or otherwise. With no reason to delay further, he casts. For this version of the spell there is no need to reach for components or even to move his hands in a somatic gesture. He merely speaks the words aloud, his version in Undercommon, and the world folds around them as the very concept of space collapses and reforms, a twisting sensation, a void that lasts no more than a moment before the biting cold winter air is on their cheeks again.
Essek squints at their surroundings, making certain they've arrived where they should. The area is green and familiar, the grass under their feet stiff with frost. Good. Right on target. And--as far as he can tell--no body parts left behind.
It isn't that he doesn't like teleporting, it's that it always feels a little different depending on the caster. Essek's style, thankfully, is not particularly jarring to Percival.
He still very much wants to kiss his husband when they arrive, and this time he does not refrain. He leans in and draws Essek closer so that he can catch the wizard in a brief but affectionate kiss.
"Well done, my lord," he murmurs, a smile evident in his voice. "But I would expect no less."
Grog makes obnoxious kissing noises and Percy makes a rude gesture in his direction without even looking. Keyleth tells them that they're being bad influences in front of Trinket.
Percy shakes his head and steps back though he keeps his arm laced with Essek's for the walk into the town proper. Whitestone is buzzing with final preparations for the first night of the festival. Banners and bunting are being hung all over, trees and lamp posts are decorated, and the smell of foods savory and sweet fill the air. Perhaps it's silly, but he's been looking forward to sharing this with Essek and he says as much as they pass a food stall selling roasted nuts and candy.
Essek realizes the moment their lips meet that he has never kissed in front of other people before. He's elated and pleasantly surprised by it, yet also definitely flustered. The kiss is brief and sweet, but he feels his face warming anyway. Hopefully the others haven't known enough drow to recognize that he's blushing.
His eyes are glued to Percival's as he congratulates him--my lord is still a little new; it isn't a title used among the Kryn, even if his position might be comparable. And though his lips curl in a show of confidence as he says, "Errors are rare when the destination is familiar." Inwardly, he's extremely tickled that Percival recognizes how complex and advanced the spell really is. Despite how simple he makes it look, Teleportation is powerful and complicated, and every casting has risks.
He keeps his eyes ahead as they move toward the center of the festivities, ignoring the heckling. Good natured or otherwise, he just can't engage. The festival preparations draw his attention anyway. He's never experienced anything quite like it, and though he still has to squint to keep his eyes from smarting, he wants to take in everything. This is his first experience with Winter's Crest, and he's come to understand the significance of it to his husband--of becoming the family he now shares it with. And in a very Essek way, he wants to learn everything and do it perfectly.
"It seems that the planning has been a great success," he says, loud enough to be heard over the people now beginning to surround them. He grips Percy's arm tightly, holding in the crook of his elbow.
Percival sees the blush, though, and he resists the urge to tease his husband further. Perhaps he'll mention it later, if only to say how lovely the warmth is in the winter light. Just as attractive is the way Essek so casually brushes off the compliment with a flare of confidence bordering on arrogance. He knows - or he has an inkling - of how difficult a spell like that is. He knows wizards, he knows the skill and willpower it takes to advance and accomplish what they do. These are not minor forces Essek is toying with, and he makes it look effortless more often than not. Percy admires that very much.
Gods, when did he fall so far in love with this man?
Percy tries to keep them to the shade, and the saving grace is that the sun will not be bright for long. Already the light in the sky is changing as they move through the afternoon and it will set relatively early given how far north they are.
There is something very nostalgic in being here with Vox Machina, and nostalgic about being here in Whitestone for Winter's Crest at all, even if he's been living here for some time. Every year, there's a sadness that sets in as much as he tries to push it back. The sounds of voices and laughter that exist only in his memory now. He shakes it off as they approach Dawnfather Square when he feels Essek's grip tighten on his arm.
"Yes, I'm looking forward to it. There will be a sort of... ceremonial start to the festival. My parents would begin things here as the sun set and we'd stay for an hour or two, then go back to the castle for a celebration there. That's the same plan for this year, unless there's anything you'd prefer to change."
The effort to remain out of direct sunlight doesn't escape Essek's notice, and as usual he is privately grateful for how considerate of him Percival always is. He won't have to endure the light for too much longer, and in the meantime he's able to enjoy more of what he sees and hears and smells. There is a lot to take in. Many booths are up and running already, serving classic winter fare or showcasing wares or offering simple games.
There are a few Kryn holidays for which such a specialized market would be organized in the Gallimaufry, though the foods, wares, and games were much different, of course. Essek hasn't been to one in a decade at least, always too busy at official ceremonies, with his work, or his own projects. The last time was probably with Verin before his placement in Bazzoxan.
"No, that sounds more than agreeable," he says, peering up at his husband to reassure him with a small smile. It must mean a great deal to Percival to now perform the same ceremonies his parents had with his own partner, and Essek is glad to learn more about his husband and his home with each one. He'd dressed nicely today to impress Percival's friends, it's true, but also to make a good impression for their appearance. Essek never so much as leaves his bedroom without being impeccably put together, but he always goes the extra mile when it comes to public showings, determined to reflect well on Percival and cement his place here in Whitestone with a hopefully favorable opinion from its people despite his status as a complete outsider.
"What is your favorite part of the festival?" he asks. Percival has told him a little about his family's Winter's Crest traditions, traditions Essek fully intends to uphold with him.
Percival appreciates and admires his husband's dedication to making a place for himself here and his willingness to participate and be seen as a member of the family and council. He'd worried once that Essek would remain reclusive, not that Percy could have blamed him for it. His husband disappears into his tower often enough, but he always appears for their shared meals and they spend their evenings together more than they don't. And he'd never expected (though he had hoped) that Essek would want to be so involved in council duties and ceremonial ones. His quiet pride in his husband's determination to become part of life here is rarely subtle.
"Oh--well, when I was younger it was always the lantern shows and pantomimes. The games were fun, but I had siblings better at those and we were always competitive."
Which is to say, Percy occasionally avoided competing to avoid looking bad when he was a boy. He can feel the look Vex'ahlia is giving him, likely a smirk, and Keyleth and Pike both express their excitement over the lantern shows.
"I liked the dancing, too. More as I got a bit older." He was better able to keep up with them once he'd grown some. He still remembers most of the dances, even if he hasn't participated since he was a teenager.
"I am curious to attend these shows," Essek proclaims easily, lending his voice to Keyleth and Pike's already apparent enthusiasm. "And willing to share a dance or two, if you are so inclined," he offers, the hint of a smile on his lips that more clearly reaches his eyes. Shaded as his face is by his hood, that smile is for Percival alone as he looks at him with unveiled fondness.
Essek isn't one for dancing, really, but in a less formal setting like this he doesn't mind participating. For the sake of sharing in something Percival enjoys, he minds even less. In fact, he acknowledges that he might even enjoy it.
As the area they walk through becomes more populated, those setting up for the festival or lingering nearby definitely take notice of them, and not in the way Essek has experienced before. It isn't just them, himself and Percival, that they are looking at. He hears whispers of Vox Machina, and if anything, people seem to be most excited by Trinket. Essek supposes he can't be offended; of all things to be upstaged by, a tame bear wearing a blue bow is at least unusual enough to be notable.
Still, he begins to appreciate for the first time what seeing this group walking the street here means to Whitestone's people. Not so very long ago, they quite literally saved this city. Essek, who was decidedly not part of that because he was busy causing a war that cost the lives of thousands of innocents, is glad to have his hood up. He finds he doesn't particularly want to be acknowledged with admiration at the moment. Let the rest of them have that, as it is well-deserved.
"I am always inclined," he says to Essek as he meets his husband's gaze. Percy is actually grateful that his husband would consider indulging that, even if it's not something he's entirely comfortable with. Percival loves dancing, though he's done it rarely since the fall of his home.
Percy's shoulders square more when people start whispering about Vox Machina. If Scanlan were here, he'd be eating this up and proclaiming - loudly - that yes, they are the famed heroes that saved Whitestone. Even if the praise is deserved, it makes Percy wish he could disappear. Yes, they saved the city. But the memories leading up to its liberation are not ones he is proud of.
So he's content when Keyleth and Grog and Pike wave and talk to people, and he exchanges a more knowing look with Vex'ahlia before she turns on the charm for their adoring public. Percy stays with Essek and gives him a wan smile.
"I was never good at this part," he admits quietly.
Essek is grateful that the rest of the group either enjoys the attention, or is willing to shoulder it at least, both for his sake and Percival's.
"I understand," he says quietly. He squeezes Percy's arm where his hand is tucked into his elbow, sensing and empathizing with his discomfort. "Accepting recognition even for a commendable deed is difficult when you have also been a source of suffering for others." This is the case for him, at least. Each time one of the Nein reminded him that they could not have saved the world without him, he felt undeserving and guilty. "There are more people than I will ever know whose lives were shattered by my arrogance. Receiving praise for doing good after causing pain of that magnitude feels hollow at best."
He cannot speak for his husband, of course, but they have spoken enough of guilt to know that it weighs heavy on him, too. The specifics of the things they have done--or the things they feel responsible for--have not been discussed in detail, but that isn't necessary for him to know that he can relate. Even if he thinks Percival deserves to be acknowledged for freeing his people from tyrannical rule, he recognizes why this is complicated and painful for him.
"It is lucky that you have friends who do not mind accepting the brunt of it on your behalf."
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Essek greets each present member of Vox Machina, shaking hands a little awkwardly where it is offered. It isn't exactly a common custom among the Kryn, though he's practiced doing it much more often since his relocation to Whitestone. There are giants and half-giants in Xhorhas, so Grog isn't quite the tallest person Essek has ever met, but it is quite a near thing, and he has to crane his neck to look up at him.
The group seems more or less at ease, and glad to be reunited with Percival, but Essek can tell when he's been observed and measured. He keeps his poise admirably, because that is what he knows how to do.
"Having heard so much about each of you, I am glad that we could meet at last," he says, hands folded primly together in front of him. "As Percival has said, I am Essek Thelyss, his husband of...nearly seven months now." He glances at Percy himself as he says this, and can't help the bit of fondness that creeps up on him, curling his lips into a faint smile. "I understand that you must have questions about this, and I hope to put your minds at ease."
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But Keyleth is cut off with a vague wave of Vex's hand. "Percy, darling, why don't you show Keyleth and Pike some of the new improvements, I think I'd very much like to settle with some tea."
As she speaks, she keeps her gaze locked on Essek.
"Hey, what about me?"
"Maybe the people in town need help with some heavy lifting," Vex suggests. She pointedly ignores the look that Percy is giving her, though she can feel it boring into the back of her head. She won't be swayed, and he certainly knows that.
Percival gives up trying to silently bully Vex into compliance and instead turns his attention to Essek as Keyleth moves to his side.
"Do you mind?" he asks. He wishes he'd thought to put on the whisper earring, but it hadn't occurred to him that he might need it.
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"Not at all," he says smoothly, meeting his husband's eye. His concern is sweet, but Essek can handle himself. He can feel Vex'ahlia's shrewdly assessing gaze, sharp and fixed on him. This is something he is prepared for. "There is much that they should see. Enjoy yourselves, and have some tea sent up for us?"
He touches Percival's elbow lightly with a small quirk of his lips that he hopes is reassuring before facing Vex'ahlia again, sweeping a hand toward the comfortable chairs arranged by the fireplace. This is one of the private sitting rooms, much less formal than the ones for receiving guests that aren't so personal.
"Please join me, Vex'ahlia, and make yourself comfortable," he invites. There is no sound as he floats across the thick rug to the chair on the right, followed by a soft rustle as he lowers his feet to the floor so that he can sit, knees tight together and hands folded in his lap.
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"I hope you don't mind," she says, with a sort of undertone that suggests she wouldn't care if he did. Her eyes are bright, but there is nothing cruel there. Only assessment. "I also hope you don't mind if I speak bluntly. We can do the whole talk-around-the-subject thing, but I don't care to be misunderstood."
Neither does she want to run the risk of misinterpreting this man. She sits back as tea arrives and the tray is left on the little table between the chairs.
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Likewise, there is no animosity in the way he regards Vex'ahlia. But he is coolly composed, layering the Shadowhand's unflappable calm over his own anxiety.
"No. In fact, I am appreciative. I too prefer that we be clear with one another." Though it isn't yet fully steeped, Essek reaches for his tea cup just to have something to hold, gripping the handle with deceptive delicacy. "Share your thoughts, and I will do the same."
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She knows that is a slight exaggeration, if only because Percy probably could have avoided it if he really tried to. But he hadn't. He'd just let it happen, and Vex wasn't sure what part of all of it bothered her most.
"He gives up so much of himself," she says, quieter, as she looks at the tea cup waiting for her. "When I heard about all this, when I managed to talk about it with him... I worried he was still--" She pauses, trying to think of the words she wants to use with this man. What does he know? What has Percy shared? "Still trying to make up for his failures."
What he called his failures. Vex frowns and fixes her tea the way she likes it once it's done steeping.
"He insists that isn't the case, but he can be a damn liar if he thinks he's saving anyone grief."
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"You are correct, of course," he says at last. He hasn't put anything more in his tea, but he raises it to take a sip anyway. "I do believe his agreement to this union was an act of penance, though he may not regard it as such. He ascribed the benefits of our marriage for Whitestone more worth than the pursuit of his own happiness in love or family."
Essek's frown is delicate, but present, and his brow furrow slightly to match. "He wishes to atone for the pain he has caused in his life and avoid causing more, and he wishes as a leader to make decisions that will benefit his people, which is admirable. But he deserves..." His mouth curls down further. "He is a good man. Among the best I have ever known. He deserved better than to marry a stranger from an unknown land for whom this was the only recourse."
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She sighs and takes a sip of her tea.
"It's probably more than that, if I'm giving him credit. He's wanted to strengthen Whitestone's position ever since... everything. Part of that means building firm ties with other parts of Tal'Dorei. Or elsewhere."
She's quiet for a moment, looking at Essek but no longer boring into him with sharp scrutiny. She isn't entirely won over, but he's gained some points in his favor. At least he doesn't seem to be blatantly taking advantage.
"Maybe he does. But I also know exactly how well he'll take to any of us meddling. He's made his decision and he will stand by it. And if you do care about him, I... hope for the best. For both of you."
There's another pause, then she adds: "And I am obliged to say that if you to hurt him, I will hunt you down to put an arrow through your eye myself."
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They look at one another in silence, still carefully assessing, but Essek thinks he has a better measure now for her trepidation. It is the concern of any loved one--that the person they love be happy and well taken care of. He doesn't know how to promise her those things, because his confidence in his ability to bring others happiness is still low. But by the Light, he is trying, and will continue to try. He wants to be a spouse and companion worthy of Percival's pride and affection.
"I care about him." He says this firmly, with resolve. "Though that was not the reason we married, it is my intention to be a good partner to him regardless." Much of him still that feels embarrassed and wary to be admitting something so personal, let alone to a woman he has only just met. But he allows this to be an extension of his trust in his husband. If these are the people Percival puts his faith in, then Essek must chance doing the same. "And if I should fail in that, I expect no less."
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"I'm glad we understand each other." She sits back again, the tension slowly leaving her shoulders. "He's family and we love him. Well, Keyleth, Pike, and I love him. I think he and Grog will always be a little at odds."
She shakes her head, more amused than anything. Then she breathes a gentler sigh, not quite relief, but near it. Vex isn't here to demand difficult promises, not when she knows how easy they are to break. One can promise to never hurt someone they care for and do it anyway.
"I expect Percy will keep them busy for a little while. So now I must insist you give me as much gossip as you are willing, with the knowledge that I have seen Percy fight bare assed and have absolutely seen him at his worst."
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In the interest of cementing this fairly amicable truce, Essek gamely shares some gossip, though only of the sort he thinks would be more amusing than embarrassing for his husband. Among other things, he shares that their first real kiss had been in a hallway at a formal event (though he doesn't say when, or which one), that Percival has been attempting to teach him how to ride horses for months with little success, and that he has generously furnished his entire tower for him, which he offers to give her a tour of this week whenever she wishes.
Through anecdotes, he paints a picture of their marriage so far, though anything too personal--and anything verging on sexual--is omitted. Percival himself can decide what he wishes to share with his close friends; Essek won't be the revealer. However, what is clear as he talks, perhaps even more than he realizes or intends, is his fondness for his husband, and his gratitude at being so fully accepted by him.
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There's other stories, too. Leaving a note for the fairies in the Faewild while they napped, a few involving little kind things he'd done for her or other members of the party. Because if Essek is going to reveal his fondness, Vex thinks it's only fair she reveal her own.
Some time later, Percival reappears.
"Would you two care to join us? We're going into town." It seems as good a time as any to see the preparations for Winter's Crest. The festival will start in earnest soon.
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He tells himself that he cannot begrudge anyone for loving Percival, nor Percival for loving anyone else. It would be uncharitable of him, not to mention hypocritical when he still has his own connections he can't let go of completely. Still, it sours his stomach a little despite his best effort to be better than this, and a little of that dread from earlier creeps back in, unbidden and unwanted.
Selfishness like this is familiar to him. It is one of his worst traits, one he genuinely hopes to improve upon. But after a century and more steeped in his own arrogant habits, it will take longer than a year to become a better man, no matter who loves him.
Though Essek's discomfort is not so great as to be obvious--he is far more skilled than that--it is still a relief when his husband returns to invite them on an outing. With a flick of a finger, he moves a curtain across the room aside enough to gauge how bright it is outside. Too bright, of course. But at this time of afternoon, at least it will only get darker.
"Indeed," he agrees, getting to his feet and resuming his floating cantrip in the same motion. "I would welcome an outing today, if you will permit me a few minutes to acquire more layers."
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Still, Percy stays right where he is as Essek passes, lightly catching his husband's fingers in a tender hold and gentle squeeze before letting him go again. An excuse to touch him. Their eyes meet momentarily before Percival's attention is drawn back to Vex and Trinket.
By the time Essek is ready, the rest of the party has bundled up for the trip down to the town of Whitestone. Percival is in a dashing blue coat that sweeps down to his ankles, and there is not a horse in sight.
"Vex suggested we walk," he says when Essek arrives. "Since the weather is so clear."
Vex'ahlia's eyes are bright as she looks at Essek. "Unless you have a quicker way for us to get there," she says, utterly casual but leaving that door wide open for the drow wizard to walk through if he'd like. She has nothing against teleporting.
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Today Essek dressed in his dark cloak with the collar of thick white fur. It was enough to keep him warm in Eiselcross, so it is plenty here. Before he joins the rest of them, he pulls the deep hood over his head to shield his eyes from the sun. Though he has to squint, it helps him to see Percival, which is worthwhile. That coat is so handsome on him, and the color is striking on a background of winter white. He drifts to his side and turns his back to the sun as soon as he can. The absence of horses would be reassuring if the alternative wasn't walking. He'll be half blind before they get into the city.
From beneath the shadow of his hood looks rather pointedly at Vex'ahlia as she speaks, sensing something of a challenge and rising to meet it with a cool self-assurance just this side of arrogance.
"I have prepared a spell for that purpose today," he says evenly. "If no one objects, we'll take a shortcut. Gather close, everyone." He looks to his husband. "Where would you prefer to arrive?"
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He considers their options. As much as he would like to go directly to Dawnfather Square, it's likely far too busy to safely teleport there.
"Trinket's park," he answers. He's shown Essek the open green space adjacent to the city but within the wall. It's not a long walk from there to the square and once they're in the city, some of the buildings will provide shade for Essek.
He looks at the big goliath and Trinket.
"Well, both of you will need to be closer, unless you should like that we leave half of you behind."
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As he waits expectantly for them to shuffle closer, he reaches for Percival beside him and loops an arm through his, glancing up at him with a flicker of a smile. Thankfully, he has plenty of experience gathering large groups of unruly adventurers for this purpose.
"Good," he says primly when they've all moved into range, sheepishly or otherwise. With no reason to delay further, he casts. For this version of the spell there is no need to reach for components or even to move his hands in a somatic gesture. He merely speaks the words aloud, his version in Undercommon, and the world folds around them as the very concept of space collapses and reforms, a twisting sensation, a void that lasts no more than a moment before the biting cold winter air is on their cheeks again.
Essek squints at their surroundings, making certain they've arrived where they should. The area is green and familiar, the grass under their feet stiff with frost. Good. Right on target. And--as far as he can tell--no body parts left behind.
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He still very much wants to kiss his husband when they arrive, and this time he does not refrain. He leans in and draws Essek closer so that he can catch the wizard in a brief but affectionate kiss.
"Well done, my lord," he murmurs, a smile evident in his voice. "But I would expect no less."
Grog makes obnoxious kissing noises and Percy makes a rude gesture in his direction without even looking. Keyleth tells them that they're being bad influences in front of Trinket.
Percy shakes his head and steps back though he keeps his arm laced with Essek's for the walk into the town proper. Whitestone is buzzing with final preparations for the first night of the festival. Banners and bunting are being hung all over, trees and lamp posts are decorated, and the smell of foods savory and sweet fill the air. Perhaps it's silly, but he's been looking forward to sharing this with Essek and he says as much as they pass a food stall selling roasted nuts and candy.
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His eyes are glued to Percival's as he congratulates him--my lord is still a little new; it isn't a title used among the Kryn, even if his position might be comparable. And though his lips curl in a show of confidence as he says, "Errors are rare when the destination is familiar." Inwardly, he's extremely tickled that Percival recognizes how complex and advanced the spell really is. Despite how simple he makes it look, Teleportation is powerful and complicated, and every casting has risks.
He keeps his eyes ahead as they move toward the center of the festivities, ignoring the heckling. Good natured or otherwise, he just can't engage. The festival preparations draw his attention anyway. He's never experienced anything quite like it, and though he still has to squint to keep his eyes from smarting, he wants to take in everything. This is his first experience with Winter's Crest, and he's come to understand the significance of it to his husband--of becoming the family he now shares it with. And in a very Essek way, he wants to learn everything and do it perfectly.
"It seems that the planning has been a great success," he says, loud enough to be heard over the people now beginning to surround them. He grips Percy's arm tightly, holding in the crook of his elbow.
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Gods, when did he fall so far in love with this man?
Percy tries to keep them to the shade, and the saving grace is that the sun will not be bright for long. Already the light in the sky is changing as they move through the afternoon and it will set relatively early given how far north they are.
There is something very nostalgic in being here with Vox Machina, and nostalgic about being here in Whitestone for Winter's Crest at all, even if he's been living here for some time. Every year, there's a sadness that sets in as much as he tries to push it back. The sounds of voices and laughter that exist only in his memory now. He shakes it off as they approach Dawnfather Square when he feels Essek's grip tighten on his arm.
"Yes, I'm looking forward to it. There will be a sort of... ceremonial start to the festival. My parents would begin things here as the sun set and we'd stay for an hour or two, then go back to the castle for a celebration there. That's the same plan for this year, unless there's anything you'd prefer to change."
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There are a few Kryn holidays for which such a specialized market would be organized in the Gallimaufry, though the foods, wares, and games were much different, of course. Essek hasn't been to one in a decade at least, always too busy at official ceremonies, with his work, or his own projects. The last time was probably with Verin before his placement in Bazzoxan.
"No, that sounds more than agreeable," he says, peering up at his husband to reassure him with a small smile. It must mean a great deal to Percival to now perform the same ceremonies his parents had with his own partner, and Essek is glad to learn more about his husband and his home with each one. He'd dressed nicely today to impress Percival's friends, it's true, but also to make a good impression for their appearance. Essek never so much as leaves his bedroom without being impeccably put together, but he always goes the extra mile when it comes to public showings, determined to reflect well on Percival and cement his place here in Whitestone with a hopefully favorable opinion from its people despite his status as a complete outsider.
"What is your favorite part of the festival?" he asks. Percival has told him a little about his family's Winter's Crest traditions, traditions Essek fully intends to uphold with him.
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"Oh--well, when I was younger it was always the lantern shows and pantomimes. The games were fun, but I had siblings better at those and we were always competitive."
Which is to say, Percy occasionally avoided competing to avoid looking bad when he was a boy. He can feel the look Vex'ahlia is giving him, likely a smirk, and Keyleth and Pike both express their excitement over the lantern shows.
"I liked the dancing, too. More as I got a bit older." He was better able to keep up with them once he'd grown some. He still remembers most of the dances, even if he hasn't participated since he was a teenager.
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Essek isn't one for dancing, really, but in a less formal setting like this he doesn't mind participating. For the sake of sharing in something Percival enjoys, he minds even less. In fact, he acknowledges that he might even enjoy it.
As the area they walk through becomes more populated, those setting up for the festival or lingering nearby definitely take notice of them, and not in the way Essek has experienced before. It isn't just them, himself and Percival, that they are looking at. He hears whispers of Vox Machina, and if anything, people seem to be most excited by Trinket. Essek supposes he can't be offended; of all things to be upstaged by, a tame bear wearing a blue bow is at least unusual enough to be notable.
Still, he begins to appreciate for the first time what seeing this group walking the street here means to Whitestone's people. Not so very long ago, they quite literally saved this city. Essek, who was decidedly not part of that because he was busy causing a war that cost the lives of thousands of innocents, is glad to have his hood up. He finds he doesn't particularly want to be acknowledged with admiration at the moment. Let the rest of them have that, as it is well-deserved.
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Percy's shoulders square more when people start whispering about Vox Machina. If Scanlan were here, he'd be eating this up and proclaiming - loudly - that yes, they are the famed heroes that saved Whitestone. Even if the praise is deserved, it makes Percy wish he could disappear. Yes, they saved the city. But the memories leading up to its liberation are not ones he is proud of.
So he's content when Keyleth and Grog and Pike wave and talk to people, and he exchanges a more knowing look with Vex'ahlia before she turns on the charm for their adoring public. Percy stays with Essek and gives him a wan smile.
"I was never good at this part," he admits quietly.
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"I understand," he says quietly. He squeezes Percy's arm where his hand is tucked into his elbow, sensing and empathizing with his discomfort. "Accepting recognition even for a commendable deed is difficult when you have also been a source of suffering for others." This is the case for him, at least. Each time one of the Nein reminded him that they could not have saved the world without him, he felt undeserving and guilty. "There are more people than I will ever know whose lives were shattered by my arrogance. Receiving praise for doing good after causing pain of that magnitude feels hollow at best."
He cannot speak for his husband, of course, but they have spoken enough of guilt to know that it weighs heavy on him, too. The specifics of the things they have done--or the things they feel responsible for--have not been discussed in detail, but that isn't necessary for him to know that he can relate. Even if he thinks Percival deserves to be acknowledged for freeing his people from tyrannical rule, he recognizes why this is complicated and painful for him.
"It is lucky that you have friends who do not mind accepting the brunt of it on your behalf."
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