I don't think it's ever been this hard for me to write a letter, not that I remember anyway. There was one time when I wrote a letter to my mother telling her that I was going to run away, but I couldn't get passed the first sentence before running in to tell her I was sorry.
Sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to do that sometimes, don't I, to prevent the inevitable. I wrote this letter for one specific reason, one I know you aren't going to like.
I'm leaving Vox Machina.
Percy has wasted so much of his life being trapped in the past. For years he was suffocated by the grief of his family's massacre, watching his sister get shot with arrows, pledging vengeance against people he knew he couldn't touch. He ruined most of his young adult life brooding about something that couldn't be changed, that he ended up going white well before he should've. He thought he would spend the rest of his days finding ways to get back at the Briarwoods, and Ripley.
And then she showed up.
Vex'ahlia was like a breath of fresh air in his life. Able to keep on her toes, witty remarks, expert haggler. Percy was sure there wasn't a perfect woman, but she came damn close to it. He always thought, after everything was done, after the Briarwoods were executed and they could rest easy, he would tell her how he felt. But it never happened. Why? Because of the Chroma Conclave.
Now, before you drop this letter and try to find me(because I know you, Percy, you will try and find me), I want to give you my reason. For most of my life, I was shunned. To the people of Syngorn, I was the little Half-Elf bastard girl who they knew was trouble, they made me feel unworthy to even breathe the same air as them. Vax made me feel like I was a dry, smart ass of a twin(as he is to me). The rest of Vox Machina made me feel like I was a dear ally and friend. But you?
You, Percy, you made me feel whole.
The Chroma Conclave put a rather big dent in his plans as they figured out how to destroy them. Vox Machina went all over Tal'Dorei looking for the Vestiges of Divergence, eventually procuring them and using them to fight off the chromatic dragons. They had a few run ins with death, Percy himself nearing it in a battle with Anna Ripley herself. But they did defeat the Cinder King and his followers in a mighty battle.
And after that, everything he had tried to build up, all came falling apart.
You made me feel like that girl sitting in her room, crying because of the Elven children who called her mother names, shoved her and pushed her and made her feel worthless, was not worthless. She could feel love, she could feel affection, she could feel like a Lady, or a Baroness.
When you nearly died, I didn't know what to do with myself. I was in this haze between consciousness and unconsciousness where nothing mattered except your safety. I don't remember most of it, all I remember was a voice screaming in my head to save you, and I did. And I realised that my heart, the thing I told Saundor was someone else's, was yours.
My heart was yours.
He came back to Whitestone with the intent of courting Vex. He remembered just watching her talk with Keyleth, or train in the courtyard, feeling his chest swell at the sight of her smile or the sound of her laugh. He was so far gone that one day he dropped his gun and decided enough was enough. But he was stopped by Cassandra moments before he reached her. Cassandra gave him a look, one look that had his heart shattered before it even had the capacity to break. "Cassandra-" he began but she shook her head, solemnly.
"The invitations are all sent out." She took a step further. "I wish there was something I could do."
"Here's an idea." He seethed. "Cancel the ball." And with that he picked up Bad News and stalked away, not even looking back to Vex who hadn't even acknowledged him.
(He couldn't stop the little voice in his head say, "And now she never will.")
It was doomed from the start, wasn't it? You're the lord of bloody Whitestone, I'm barely a Baroness. Whatever I may feel for you can't ever spark because you have duties, and honour and everything you are supposed to have as a lord(although the real Percy I know would rather choke than do something he didn't want to do). Perhaps I made it up in my head, I'm a girl who is starved of affection who was just looking for the first person to give it to me.
Victoria Aldaar was lovely, still is quite remarkable, but she is no Vex'ahlia. She couldn't hit a bullseye if her life depended on it, most of her jokes fell flat and he was certain a merchant could rob them blind if they tried hard enough. But she was a different kind of woman. She was a bookworm, quick, and was pretty handy with a blade. She was the opposite of Vex and yet he found himself drifting towards her the most at that ball. Every now and then he would pass Vex, watch her as she fixated on the alcohol currently in her possession and ache for her attention. He wanted to be dancing with Vex, he wanted to be marrying Vex, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Vex'ahlia.
Like most things in his life, he didn't get what he wanted.
My point is, the reason I'm leaving is because I'm not strong enough. I can't keep going to Whitestone to watch from the sidelines as you live the life I want. I can't find it in me to smile whenever you talk about Victoria's pregnancy. I know you'll be the greatest father ever, but I know that if I see that child, any resolve I have left with evaporate the moment I lay eyes on that baby.
He tried to live his life. He married Victoria, lead Whitestone the way he hoped his father would've wanted, but it wasn't right. He felt stuck. While in Vox Machina he could go wherever whenever, never having to stop to think anything political. It was just a troop of adventurers, off to see what the world held for them. Even when Julius was born, he still felt like there was a hole in him, a little Vex sized whole that needed to be filled so badly.
I cannot stress this enough, Percy, please don't take this as your fault. It's me, being selfish and not moving on. But in a way, leaving Vox Machina is my way of moving on. I can be by myself, live with my thoughts and just exist. I will return, just right now I need time. I hope you can appreciate this.
Vax delivered the letter. On their annual trip back to Whitestone, he handed him a letter in silence, and then never spoke of it again. Percy reads that letter, once, twice, three times until his hand is shaking and his face is red.
I will never forget the time we spent together. In fact, it will be one of the things keeping me together. Perhaps I'll go to the Slayers Take in Vasselheim. I've missed Zarha and Kash so very much and no doubt they will take me in.
Percy de Rolo, you beautiful bastard, I hope life treats you well. Better than it's treated me. Give my love to the rest of Vox Machina, and know that I've loved you, even now. I still love you.
All my love,
Lady Vex'ahlia, third Baroness to the city of Whitestone and Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt.
He doesn't know how to process it, so he does the most primal thing he can. He destroys. Benches are knocked over, potion bottles are smashed. His glasses crack in his palm and the gun he was working on is shattered to pieces, just like his heart, now hollow in his chest.
"Sweetheart, what's this?" Victoria asks him weeks later as he sits in his chair, still fixing the broken gun. He doesn't look up. He doesn't look up for he knows what she's referring to. The crumpled piece of parchment, buried under the rubble of his attack.
"That's," he sighs, imagining her as the woman who gave him her heart, the heart which he trampled on, "that's a reminder of what could've been."