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lattefics · 7 years

Text

distance

An anonymous request was made for fluffy Percy/Cassandra and I tried my best. I can’t guarantee it’s precisely accurate to the CritRole timeline because the orders of events are difficult to remember.

Pairing: Percy/Cassandra

Warnings: Incest

Summary: Cassandra seeks comfort and struggles with her past.

For months, Cassandra would not touch Percy.

Rescuing her and defeating the Briarwoods had been a whirlwind affair, and Cassandra had been practically shoved into running Whitestone– partly thanks to Percy’s constant occupation with Vox Machina and adventuring– which left her precious little time for bonding.

She spoke to Percy when he was home and he needed something, and otherwise she was busy running a city-state. She couldn’t afford to have a lovely chat over tea or an afternoon stroll in the garden, there were diplomats to please and trade to put in place if they ever wanted Whitestone in a standing resembling it’s former glory.

The distance came naturally with the lack of contact.

Cassandra had been fine with it, really. For the first months she’d barely had time to sleep and eat between her work, and what little free time she had was dedicated to herself, to actually having a minute to think her own thoughts, and she wouldn’t dare waste it on spending time with others. She saw others each and every day for far longer than she cared.

So she and Percival didn’t touch, barely spoke, and for Cassandra that was all right. At first.

It broke one day, the calm shattered as easily as a looking glass when Percy had come home covered in blood and viscera remains and insisted on hugging her. Cassandra had fought and refused and he’d smelled like rotting garbage, and Cassandra had shoved him off as quickly as possible. But in the lingering moments, when he’d grinned at her and stepped back to admire the work of stains and smears he’d put on her dress, she’d felt… an absence.

She thought about the hug a lot in the coming weeks.

Cassandra considered herself a brave person, had to have been for years under the Briarwoods, and worked through the strange nerves that burrowed under her skin at the thought of asking Percy for anything. She’d sought him out after the end of the Chroma Conclave, finding him resting in one of the sitting rooms and putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I need to speak with you,” she’d said, knowing then that it was a lie. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted anything but talking.

Percy hadn’t objected, though he’d been puzzled when Cassandra insisted on dragging him to her study to sit on a short couch together and just… exist. She’d hesitated to wrap her arms around him, to lean in close, but one breath of his scent, feeling the warmth and solidness of his body next to her, and she never wanted to leave.

Her heart ached for more, and Cassandra had denied herself– or been denied– for so long.

It became a ritual of sorts. Free moments were spent seeking Percy out, pulling him to her study and holding him close. Percy didn’t object, didn’t even question it, simply let Cassandra have his attention for as long as she wanted.

She’d thought it would make things awkward, but it didn’t. Percy acted the same as ever around his friends or the employ, and he never made snide remarks about their little moments.

Bolstered by this, Cassandra got bolder. She wanted more.

She pulled him away, as she had many times before, but rather than use her study, she took Percy to her bedroom.

He raised a brow when he recognized the door, standing beside her obediently as she took out the key– she didn’t trust her room to stay unlocked, she knew better than that– and opened the door for them. “We’re doing this here?”

Cassandra paused, heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. “Is that all right?”

“Yes, it’s fine. It’s a change, that’s all.”

Cassandra didn’t say anything, hoping the heat she could feel coming to her cheeks wasn’t obvious.

She shouldn’t care. He was her brother. Siblings were close. The twins were close, hovering over each other at every moment, hanging off one another and verbally poking to get the other’s attention. This wasn’t much different, a step up from what they’d already been doing. Cassandra repeated this to herself like a mantra as she closed the door behind them and locked it again.

“Come. Sit,” she invited, gesturing to a loveseat pushed up against one wall. She had that, a large bed, a desk, and a small fireplace for the long winter nights. It was early autumn now, chilly but not unbearable. Cassandra made her way to the loveseat, taking a delicate seat on one end. Percy took a moment to admire the room, and moved to sit beside her.

For a long minute they simply sat there. It always started this way, the awkwardness settling between them. Cassandra flexed her fingers and breathed deep, willing herself through the fears that had been trained into her, and reached out.

Percy’s hand was warm, calloused, and strong as he grasped hers. “There you are,” he said quietly. “Is something wrong?”

“Technically nothing,” Cassandra said with a shrug. “But…”

“But?”

“But I’ve been thinking. And I’m not sure the conclusions I may have reached are good ones.”

“Hmm.” Percy shifted closer, bringing Cassandra’s hand over his lap to clasp the top with his other hand. The heat of it surrounded her skin, like one of Percy’s forges, molding her hands under his touch until she relaxed. “Whatever it may be,” he said, “I can listen.”

Cassandra’s heart tripped over itself. She’d never thought herself a simpering school girl, even before when their family was still whole. And yet, being with Percy, like this, she hesitated and wondered and worked herself into a mental tizzy unbecoming of someone of her status.

“Percy,” she said slowly, “we’re family, aren’t we?”

“Of course.”

“And family look after each other.”

“Yes.” He paused, and amended. “They should. Most people try.”

Cassandra laughed hollowly. “Yes, I suppose most people try. That’s not necessarily my point.” She squeezed around Percy’s hand. “I wanted to try something. To see if we both enjoy it. It may not be acceptable to… certain people.”

Percy pursed his lips, shifting to put an arm over her shoulder. Cassandra leaned into it, her head on his shoulder, his warmth seeping into her, filling her from her center outward.

“If it’s something you want to try,” Percy said, “I’m sure I won’t care for the people who would object.”

Cassandra smiled, turning to face Percy. “You don’t know what I’m going to ask.”

“Try me.”

“Very well.”

She cupped Percy’s face with her free hand, his jaw stubble scratching her palm. She waited a beat, for him to object or pull away, and when he didn’t, she leaned in and pressed their lips together.

He jerked, and for a second Cassandra thought she’d made a mistake, Percy would pull away and refuse to speak to her for a week and afterward their stolen moments together would be over and Cassandra would have to repress her desires again, not trusting anyone else to see her in her weakest state.

And then Percy pushed forward, opening his mouth to her, warm and soft and everything Cassandra had sought for from someone.

They broke messily, breathing hard and staring at each other. Percy’s hands were grasping hers tightly and his breath washed over her face, slightly sweet, and she could see a faint tinge of red in his cheeks.

She said, “That was what I’d been considering.”

Percy licked his lips. “I’m glad you went beyond just considerations.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why,” he said, tucking one hand under her chin, “would I be mad?”

“Because…” She frowned. “Because siblings don’t do that with one another. At least not most of them.”

“I could think of at least three noble families that have done this exact thing for the sake of blood purity.”

Cassandra snorted and leaned into Percy’s palm. “Please. This isn’t about blood purity. If that were true I would have asked for a contract, not a kiss.”

“Who says a contract isn’t coming? For all I know you could be using this to entice me into marriage.”

Cassandra laughed, the laugh quieting and turning into something small, hopeless, and her hand clenched around Percy’s. “You have no idea… how unappealing that is to me, Percival.” At her words, Percy made a questioning noise, but Cassandra only shook her head and he quickly fell silent.

For a few long moments they said nothing, only held each other.

Percy said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Don’t–” Cassandra shook her head and sighed. “I have so many problems, Percy, don’t make this into another one. I don’t need you trying to delicately tiptoe around my past, there’s too many eggshells on the floor for you to avoid them all.”

“Is it selfish,” he asked slowly, turning to face her better, to cup her face in his hand again, rough callouses warm on her skin, “that I don’t want to know in the least what happened to you? What it was like, with them, for five years?”

She snorted. “Not selfish in the least. I don’t want anyone to know.”

Percy searched her eyes, hers a deep brown and his a contrasting blue. Cassandra had always wondered where the blue had come from, when both their parents had had brown eyes. She thought she vaguely remembered Vesper having blue eyes but she didn’t know if that was real or an imagined memory, some kind of comfort to assure herself that something of their siblings still existed in both her and Percy.

Percy kissed her again. He hesitated, inching closer, his breaths coming in careful measure, as though breathing too fast would break the spell and send Cassandra running. And then his warm, chapped lips were on hers and Cassandra let herself lean against him, her free hand curling into his shirt, breaking their handhold to grip at his hair. It was soft; she had suspected it was soft from all the time he spent coiffing and combing to look immaculate, and she’d thought to herself how stupid that was when it was ruined twenty seconds into every battle he fought.

A hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, except that they were already close and so she was dragged practically into Percy’s lap, her skirts fluttering around their legs and her chest pressed up against his. He was hot, like a fire, like the smoking metal of his guns, and he tasted like bitter sweetness on her tongue. Cassandra opened her mouth to him, sweeping her tongue into his, moaning loud at the heat and the insistent press of his mouth on hers.

When they parted they both panted hard, faces flushed red, scrambling to rest their hands somewhere appropriate– and Cassandra wanted to laugh at how Percy almost rested a hand over her ass and pulled it back at the last second, curling over her hips instead to help her balance. She threw both hands around his neck, resting her face on his chest and humming contentedly. “Percy...”

“Yes?”

“Nothing, I just… wanted to make sure you were still with me.”

His hands tightened over her hips. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, darling.”

Cassandra froze. Her fingers curled, digging into Percy’s back, and she breathed in quickly. “What?”

“Did I– you– I’m sorry,” he huffed out a laugh, “I was trying to be cute, I think.”

Cassandra’s face paled, her heart beating rabbit fast in her chest, and she curled up tighter in Percy’s lap. “Percy– Percival, hold me, please, right now, just– just put your arms around me and don’t touch anything else.”

Percy flinched under her and she felt his hands scrambling, hurrying to obey her. “What? What is it?”

She didn’t answer, only held her arms tighter around him and relished the lock of Percy’s arms on her, the way they held still at her word, instead of… going elsewhere.

The world darling bounced around her skull, hitting the walls like the soundwaves of a gong, and she pressed tighter into Percy to escape the way it wrapped around the edges and dug in, dragging out memories she’d thought long buried.

“Cassandra?”

His voice was quiet but without the wanting, expectant edge that Cassandra’s mind was convinced should be coming. She gathered herself, mentally feeling out her limbs for signs of trembling, and pulled away from Percy to meet his gaze. His eyes– blue, bright, so much like Delilah’s sharp green, and yet, different enough– were filled with worry.

“Excuse me,” she said with a polite cough into her hand. “I... lost myself.”

Percy’s brow furrowed and he brought a tentative hand up, gathering a loose strand of hair to tuck behind her ear. “If you lose yourself,” he said, his hand sliding down to her arm, squeezing comfortingly, “I’ll be here. I can help find you again.”

Cassandra nodded slowly, still struggling to claw away from dark memories scraping the edges of her mind, urging her away from here, now, in the arms of the only person in the world that she could trust.

She lunged forward, burying herself in Percy’s arms again, holding him like an anchor against the rest of the world. A thought popped into her mind, a question that drove back the memories and the still-strong echo of all the pet names that Delilah had ever called her.

It was a simple question, and one that she already knew the answer to, but she asked it anyway because the weight of it filled her mind and left room for little else.

Why had it taken her so long to accept Percy’s warmth?

#critfic #percy de rolo #cassandra de rolo #incest cw #prompt #requests #abuse mention cw #long post #writing #fanfiction

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