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The shiny black orbs stare directly into Vex’s soul. She finds this rather insulting, as they are not living eyes, but simply glass beads woven into the face of an owlbear plushie sitting on a merchant’s shelf. Inanimate objects should not be allowed to make Lady Vex’ahlia of Whitestone, Grandmistress of the Grey Hunt, feel like a kid again.
And yet… She remembers, in scattered pieces, the very similar toy she’d had as a small child. Elaina, her sweet, hardworking, endlessly loving mother, had stitched and mended and woven until her fingers bled to afford the fabrics needed to craft the little owlbear. She’d even scrounged up some wrapping paper to present Vex with her gift.
Vax had gotten a griffin. He’d named his toy ‘Ruff’. Vex can’t remember what she named hers, but she can remember how much she loved it.
They hadn’t many toys growing up, hadn’t needed them even if they could afford them, but something was special about the owlbear. Maybe the hard work their mother put into creating it, or the bright fabrics that stood out against the dusty setting of Byroden. Whatever the cause, Vex clung to the stuffed animal, until the day her father took her to Syngorn.
That day, she left it behind. The thought of her mother being all alone in the small house, no children to keep her company, had torn Vex’s little heart to shreds. She’d put the owlbear on her mother’s bed, ordering it to keep Elaina company, promising that she’d be back, eventually.
A promise that was broken in the most tragic way. Her owlbear had burned with the rest of Byroden.
Vex blinks, and the memories fizzle away. She’s not in Byroden, or Syngorn, but is standing in the middle of Whitestone’s market, staring at a toy with tears budding in her eyes.
Composing herself, approaches the owlbear. Her fingers move achingly slow as she cautiously brushes them against the fuzzy fabric.
“Something caught your eye?” The shopkeeper asks, peering her way. His eyes widen when he realizes who he’s speaking to. “Oh! Lady de Rolo, it’s an honor.”
“How much for this?” Vex asks, cringing as soon as says it. She never wants to become the kind of nobility that doesn’t treat her citizens with kindness, who doesn’t ask for their names and smile at them. As thrown off as she is, though, it’s hard to focus on anything but the little owlbear.
“For you? Please, have it. No cost.”
Vex may be distracted, but she’s not so distracted to accept the deal. “No, I want to pay you. Did you make it?”
He flounders for a moment. “I, yes I did, but please, I couldn’t charge you.”
Finally, she manages to break her gaze from the toy, turning to look at him. She wonders if he can see the tears brimming in her eyes. “Please. Let me pay.”
A war battles across his features. Refusing to take her money would be disobeying her wishes, but taking her money would likely go against his morals. The people of Whitestone aren’t fond of charging the woman who helped saved the city, and who now helps run it. “I… suppose I could take a few silver. It’s not worth much. Honestly, knowing that it’s found a good home is all I need.”
Vex pulls out her coin purse and dumps a handful of gold in her palm. “Here.”
He’s pulling away before the word even left her mouth, shaking his head. “That’s too much, my lady, truly.”
“My mother was a seamstress,” Vex whispers, momentarily surprising herself. She doesn’t speak of Elaina often, the pain still a gaping wound after all these years. “I can’t fathom underpaying someone for a craft like this.”
The moment of vulnerability softens the shopkeeper’s defenses. Hesitantly, he reaches out to take the gold. “Thank you. I’ll put this to good use. If you ever need another, I can do that.”
Vex thinks of Vax’s griffin and the games they would play for hours with the toys. She thinks of how Syldor had thrown his plushie away on that first night. “I might take you up on that.”
One week later, Vax laughs as she presents him with the gift, wrapped in black paper during their monthly picnic in Whitestone’s garden. He grins. “For me? You shouldn’t have.”
Vex just smiles softly. “Open it.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Why are you being all soft? Is this a prank?”
“Seriously. Open it,” she insists, not rising to the bait. That piques his curiosity even more, and he gently begins to peel back the wrapping.
The smile drops off his face when he reveals the stuffed griffin in all it’s glory, but Vex doesn’t worry about his reaction, even when she can see the moisture beading in his eyes. “Vex,” Vax whispers, all teasing gone. He sits up straighter on their picnic blanket, thumbs stroking along the griffin’s fluffy fabric. “Is this…?”
“It’s as best I could remember it. Not exactly the same, of course, but I thought you might appreciate it.”
Vax doesn’t say anything for a long, long time, until enough tears have formed in his eyes that one slips down his cheek. He wipes at it with the sleeve of his cloak. “Gods, Vex. I… Thank you.”
Vex sniffles, too, revealing her own plushie from beneath her coat, making Vax suck in a breath. “Do you remember playing with them, hunting the creatures in the woods?”
He laughs wetly, pulling her into his side so he can bury his face in her hair. “Of course I do, Stubby. Those frogs didn’t know what was coming. I think this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
Settling into his side, Vex smiles a bit. Together, the twins gently hold their toys, recounting memories of their time in Byroden with a bittersweet fondness. Even after the sun dips below the treeline and darkness surrounds them, broken only by fireflies buzzing in the air, they stay.
In the morning, Percy and Keyleth will find them deeply asleep on their picnic blanket, plushies clutched in their grasps and soft smiles on their sleeping faces.