Chapter Text
The last time Vex spent Winter’s Crest in Whitestone, there were far fewer people around to celebrate, as well as a missing organization to the nobility - namely Percy and Cassandra. The festival had of course been wonderful, but it had also had the flavor of a gathering thrown together by people grasping at scraps of happiness after too long without. It’s an entirely different day this year, for a few reasons. For one, Vex wakes up in very different circumstances; burrowed as far into the warmth of Percy’s arms as she can possibly get instead of waking to the scratchy comfort of Trinket’s fur. Her day also begins a whole hell of a lot earlier than it had before, even earlier than Vex usually wakes.
Percy wakes up as ungracefully as he usually does when there is a brisk knock on their door, choking on an inhale before he groans and buries his face so far in Vex’s hair she can feel his annoyed sigh against the nape of her neck. He’d explained to Vex already that there would be dawn prayers to attend at Pelor’s temple this morning, thus the fact they’ve been awoken while it’s still full dark. That doesn’t mean either of them is particularly thrilled about the wake up call.
“Are you sure you have to be a lord today?” Vex grumbles, face half in her pillow, tucking her feet under Percy’s calves for the additional warmth.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Percy gets out, his words slurred with sleep. “I really only have to four times a year. Five, maybe.”
“Are all Whitestone holidays this early when there’s no vampires?”
“Just this and one more.” Despite his being absolutely not a morning person, Percy did spend nearly twenty years of his life attending this particular ritual. His grip around Vex’s waist squeezes briefly before he pulls away, shifting the bedcovers down as he leaves the bed. Vex curls further into them, tugging the blanket up to her chin with a noise of protest.
“The other one had better not be so damn cold ,” she says waspishly. Only barely awake, Percy grimaces at her, interrupting his response with a yawn.
“Not so - so cold, but more muddy,” he says. There is a louder and more insistent knock on the door, which Percy attends to, assuring the servant standing there that they are awake while Vex negotiates herself out of bed and into the cold air. As a baroness in her own right, an adventurer and dragonslayer with an earned fortune to her name, Vex has enough clothing that she can put together something that both befits her station and assures she won’t freeze to death in the snow. Getting dressed is a task when the air itself is this cold, however, which is why Vex hates castles, with their chilly stones. Tapestries can only do so much.
By the time they leave their room, she and Percy are both bundled in enough layers to ward off the chill, but she still leans on him because Percy is both more accustomed to the cold and somehow a perpetual source of body heat. They find Cassandra waiting for them where the kitchen splits from the hall, looking far too awake, but blessedly holding a pair of mugs that can only contain coffee.
“You look disturbingly alert,” Percy comments, taking the offered coffee.
“I haven’t slept,” Cassandra says. Considering his own sleeping habits, Vex has to take a swallow of coffee to keep herself from commenting on the hypocrisy of Percy’s disapproving look. Judging by the single eyebrow Cassandra lifts in his direction, she feels similarly about Percy’s right to judge anyone else’s sleep schedule.
“I’ll take a nap once we’re done for the morning,” Cassandra says, conciliatory. “I’m not needed for any of the afternoon festivities.”
The siblings continue bickering, making Vex miss Vax sharply for a moment. Technically, he’s not far to miss, only asleep upstairs, but Vex had insisted he didn’t need to wake up early with them. He’s not beholden to the responsibilities of nobility, after all. Percy and Cassandra lead the way to the temple, Vex’s arm looped through Percy’s as they trudge through the snow. The new priest is nearly a stranger to Vex, though Cassandra knows him and Percy has a passing familiarity, so she leaves them to converse at the front of the temple while Vex takes a seat in the front row.
“Wake up, dear.” She must have dozed, because she wakes to Percy’s fingers gentle on the side of her face as she blinks rapidly. People have begun filtering in, including the rest of Vox Machina, looking sleepy for the most part. Keyleth is awake enough to be functional, though the rest of them are barely awake - not even that in Scanlan’s case, where he’s slumped and open-mouthed against a pew.
The actual ceremony takes what feels like forever and a day, but is realistically closer to two hours. Dawn breaks fairly near the beginning, and Vex gets more and more annoyed the longer it drags on after the sun has crested over the horizon. Percy takes a seat beside her after his third pronouncement of faith at the head of the temple, immediately spotting the tell-tale signs of Vex’s restlessness.
“How can prayers possibly take this long?” she hisses, fingers tapping on her thigh. “Dawn’s already passed an hour ago, I think Pelor’s moved on by now.”
“It’s nearly done,” Percy assures in an equally hushed voice, placing his hand over hers to still her fidgeting. He’s right, which is only fair given he’s done this many times before. Toward the end, the priest gestures for all of the nobility to stand and come forward to the front of the temple. Each of them is anointed with holy oil, asked to take oaths to protect the land and the people in the coming year, and then blessed.
“I didn’t even do anything,” Vex complains once they’re out of earshot of the priest and most of the gathered worshippers. “Not until the very end at least. What did we have to wake up so early for?”
“Tradition, mostly,” Percy says blithely. Now that the sun has risen, it’s considerably warmer, so Vex doesn’t have a ready excuse to hang on Percy’s arm on the walk back. There’s also a considerable amount of distraction as they walk, her friends present and awake and the town setting up the more familiar stalls and decorations and festivities.
With their extra hours of sleep, everyone else fares much better than Percy and Vex, and especially Cassandra who - true to her word - retreated back to the castle as soon as her part was over. There are some of the same activities as the last Winter's Crest, though all but Grog decline the pie eating contest this time. Keyleth and Vex discover a stall where one can make molasses candy in fresh snow and spend a few minutes trying to make Trinket-shaped candies with varied success. Scanlan, having talked Kaylie into spending the holiday in Whitestone, joins in with the larger group of musicians, eventually getting chased away by Keeper Yennin when the songs get a little bit too bawdy. He does recite his epic Resident Evil with a certain dramatic flair before Scanlan is forcibly removed from the stage to the sound of applause.
Vex and Percy orbit around each other, even as they drift between everyone else throughout the morning. The pair of them put in a good effort of enjoying the day, but Vax gets the opportunity to pelt them with a snowball each when they fall asleep in the middle of the proceedings, missing Grog's vindication during the arm wrestling contest entirely. Percy gets knocked nearly out of his seat with the surprise of it, though Vex manages to cobble together enough wits and aim to chuck one back at her brother. A small snowball fight ensues, which Keyleth wins by cheating outrageously with a control water spell.
“Go sleep it off, sister,” Vax says when they’ve all been thoroughly soaked with melting snow and it still hasn’t managed to wake her up entirely. She takes his advice, kissing her brother on the cheek and bidding the rest of their group a happy Winter’s Crest before taking Percy with her for a well-deserved nap. There will be time still for celebrating in the evening, but Vex is frankly exhausted and shucks out of her clothes post haste once they’ve made it into their room.
“Oh, bed,” Vex moans, hugging her pillow gratefully. “I’m so sorry I left you.”
Percy snorts a laugh where he’s still undressing. He’s never quite as fast as she is with it, always needing to fold everything and set it aside properly, but he does catch up, slipping into bed beside her. Vex immediately shoves her cold feet between his calves, making Percy yelp and squirm away from her. She wraps her arms around his chest and hangs on until they reach a temperature equilibrium and settle against each other more comfortably.
“The nap is a tradition, too, of course,” Percy mutters as they drift somewhere between asleep and awake. Vex hums agreeably into his shoulder, blindly finding his wrist to circle with her fingers in a loose hold for the simple comfort of touch. “I find it’s like most traditions,” he goes on, mumbling in that absently philosophical way of his, “it’s better when shared.”