Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A lull in the music brought all attendees together. The ballroom floor filled not with dancers, but with guests in varying degrees of listlessness. Some carried drinks, other’s a partner on their arm. Piltovan, Demacian, or something else, they all stood abreast, attention turned towards the small, isolated stage the band had previously been using for their performance. There, Cassandra Kiramman stood alone, a stoic, placid smile on her face.

She tapped a spoon against her glass to silence the low murmurs of the crowd, sweeping her gaze over them. “I would like to apologize for disrupting the festivities tonight. I’m certain you’re all weary of travel, and find yourselves yearning for entertainment, rather than long speeches. However, as the humble host of this event, I would be remiss if I did not take a moment to thank you all for attending. For setting aside our differences and coming together, not as disparate kingdoms, but as fellow peoples of Valoran. While I know we have not always seen eye to eye, I think the fact we are here now, enjoying the company of one another, is a testament to the fact that more binds us together than separates us.”

Caitlyn would beg to differ. Historically bloody conflicts, genocide, and constant spats over borders and policies made each kingdom present about as cuddly as a porcupine. 

Cassandra lifted her chin, her lips drawn into a thin smile. The Kirammans weren’t royalty, yet she commanded a certain regal presence as she stood there above everyone else. Caitlyn had to admit she felt a twinge of pride for her mother’s composure. 

“As we continue throughout our evening, I invite each and every one of you present to speak with your neighbors. To get to know one another, not as opposing dignitaries, but as kindred souls who want only the best for those they love. Let us remember tonight as proof that we can come together and cooperate, and that violence need not be our only recourse for securing peace. That we are greater than our baser instincts.”

Polite applause followed. Beside her, Vi snorted and grumbled under her breath. Caitlyn couldn’t make out what was said but she lightly smacked her lover’s arm for good measure, smirking as Vi stuck out her tongue. 

“Now, I’m sure you’d like to return to your dancing and socializing, but we do have two guests who wish to say a word or two as well. At this time, I would like to invite Luxanna Crownguard to join me on stage.”

Lux was invisible until she reached the stage’s steps. Powder lingered at the bottom, and Caitlyn smiled at the brief, longing look they gave one another before Lux marched ahead, masking the pining she’d let slip. It was stunning how quickly the two had seemed to come together. How flagrant their yearning for each other was, despite still being strangers.

Vi’s chest rumbled as she nuzzled Caitlyn’s neck, sending a shiver dancing through her, and Caitlyn reluctantly acknowledged maybe she wasn’t the best critic when it came to being hopelessly smitten. 

The Crownguard heiress’ steps were sure, but her posture was tense. In Demacia, her very presence carried an air of surety, Caitlyn imagined. Wherever a Crownguard went, people followed. People listened, and personal feelings notwithstanding, they were shown respect. If it was anything like being a Kiramman, Luxanna was probably used to having people excuse every misstep, however minor.

Here in Piltover, the Crownguards were largely unknown, save for name and reputation. Here, where foreigners stood in the crowd, very few people knew Luxanna. Even without being on stage herself Caitlyn could feel the combined weight of the people’s stares. Their expectations upon Luxanna.

Judging. Silently critiquing. Scolding. Mocking.

Luxanna stood a little taller, clasping trembling hands before herself. Her throat bobbed, and she tried to speak once before silencing herself. It wasn’t until Cassandra set a hand on her back and smiled gently that Luxanna seemed to gather herself enough to speak.

“I would like to echo Lady Kiramman’s sentiments. For generations, some of our kingdoms have been at war with one another. We’ve discriminated, slaughtered, and pillaged, all under the flimsy excuse of union, or freedom, or even divine right. The reality is…” Lux exhaled shakily, placing a hand over her heart as she closed her eyes. “We’ve all just been afraid. Afraid of people we don’t understand. Of cultures that we don’t appreciate. Fear is… Exhausting. Anger is a double edged blade. No one wins in war, and everyone, even those of us in privilege, feel the effects of years of bloodshed and strife, though we weather it better than most.”

Luxanna smiled hesitantly as she regarded the crowd. She stepped closer to the edge of the stage, clasping both hands together over her heart now. “Which is why I’m so happy to see us all here. And why I am so, so grateful to Piltover for giving us the grounds to meet like this. For giving us a chance to prove not just to each other, but to ourselves that despite all that separates us, we are still in this together. And we can resolve our differences without the need for steel and bloodshed. That we can –”

“Lovely words from a lovely girl. And, sadly, hollow ones as well.”

Luxanna frowned, as did Cassandra, as another woman made her way on stage. Caitlyn didn’t recognize her in the slightest, though her dark red and black attire screamed Noxian. Her raiment and sleek gown hung off her pale form, her equally dark hair drawn into a high, tight bun, leaving her youthful face and bright amber eyes exposed. A rose pendant hung between the woman’s breasts, the dark petals nearly black, almost crimson as the lights reflected off it. A few sharp, jagged thorns sprouted from a coiling stem that formed a ring around it.

She recognized Katarina. The redhead was on the woman’s heels in an instant, smiling and looking rather proud of the fact they were interrupting everything. Vi groaned, uttering “Not this bitch” under her breath. Caitlyn didn’t voice her disdain, but she couldn’t say she disagreed.

“Excuse you, but I was in the middle of speaking,” Luxanna said, turning to face the Noxians.

“You were, and I am so terribly sorry for interrupting you.” The woman didn’t sound the least bit contrite. Her voice was honeyed, slow, almost languid, and carried an undertone of amusement. Patronizing to Caitlyn’s ears even. “I merely thought it in everyone’s best interests to interject, before you continue to instill fantasies in the minds of those present.”

“I would ask you to mind your tongue, miss.” Cassandra narrowed her eyes, taking a few steps towards the stranger. She didn’t look the least bit intimidated when Katarina moved to intercept her, though she stopped her advance with a loud sigh. “If you have something you must say, then say it. And make it quick.”

“Certainly.” Caitlyn rubbed her fingers against her palm, rolling her tongue in her mouth as she watched the Noxian woman strut along the stage, dark lips drawn into an amused smile, eyes listlessly scanning the crowd. “Let us not all pretend that Lady Crownguard’s words are nothing but flowery prose, better suited for the page of a poet than anything. Once this ball concludes, we’ll all venture home to our ivory towers and castles, and we’ll continue our games of deceit and warcraft as we always have. This entire… Thing,” the woman drawled, twirling her wrist with an exasperated smile. “Is lovely, truly. But let us not deceive ourselves into thinking it is nothing more than posturing.”

“This is more than just some empty gathering! We’re all here because we want what’s best for our people, and what’s best isn’t more war.” Luxanna took a few steps forward, drawing herself taller. “And don’t pretend to be above all of this, not when it's your kingdom that’s responsible for the most horrors!”

A hushed gasp rippled through the crowd. Murmurs began to spring up, and above those, a few assenting voices from other parties. 

It wasn’t as if anyone present was oblivious to Noxus’s past. To its reputation. A warfaring kingdom hellbent on unification through violence, justified by insanity, qualified by warmongers and warlords, nobles looking to expand their influence, and antiquated ideas of honor and self-determinism. No one, even Noxus itself, could deny that the kingdom had a less than stellar reputation.

“If you believe us here to instigate another war, young lady, you needn’t fret. We’ve more than learned our lesson with our endeavors in Ionia.”

“Invasion!” A Shuriman woman shouted. “Call it for what it is, Noxian. You violated another kingdom’s sovereignty when you landed on their shores!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I to apologize to the Shurimans? A kingdom who, historically, was even more fixated on expanding their empire than Noxus?” Katarina chuckled while the rest of the gathering was stony silent. The Noxian dignitary, Caitlyn didn’t know her name, somehow, held her champagne glass high. “Noxus is merely the most recent power to seek to grow itself. Before, it was Shurima, to which you Piltovans owe the creation of Zaun. Before them, it was Targon waging their holy wars in the name of their vaunted heroes of eld. And before them? Well, I’ll admit Noxus has a history of conquest, but we’re hardly alone in the efforts. Or the first.”

“Say what you’ve come to say,” Luxanna gritted out. “No one is here for a history lesson.”

“Very well. I said we were not here to sew the seeds of war, and I meant it. However, I had come in hopes of inviting you all to join Noxus of your own accord. To unite Valoran under one banner, and empower one another in solidarity.”

“You’re out of your mind!” Councilor Salo shouted from somewhere in the crowd. “Piltover would never kneel to Noxus!”

“Spare us your flowery poison, Noxian!” the Shuriman yelled. 

Luxanna moved to stand beside Cassandra, scowling openly as she pointed at the stranger. “You have no right to propose cooperation. Not when your kingdom is the very reason so many of us have been at odds!” 

“Is it not benevolent when a superior power offers peace? I thought that was what you all wanted?”

A powder keg was ignited. The few voices of disapproval became many. Shouts to remove the Noxian party began to surface, then escalated to calls of force. Around them, Caitlyn heard no few promises of threats and violence, of retribution for making a mockery of what should be a solemn gathering. 

The Noxian woman continued to smile, looking more than a little pleased with herself as she endured countless barbs and accusations. 

She was right. None of them trusted Noxus, and Caitlyn knew, no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise, that the other kingdoms didn’t trust one another either. Not entirely. Not when their people could be so easily swayed to attacking one another. Not when one-sided dealings, histories of oppression, and frequent border conflicts continued unabated. 

The notion of the ball was lovely. Inspired even. And yet a few disparaging remarks was all it took to rile everyone up and remind them that they were all, ultimately, at odds with one another. Even if Noxus was the main focus of ire, each kingdom had its gripes about each other. 

No, it couldn’t be so easy to unravel their ideas of peace. People were reacting emotionally, and that was always visceral. Immediate. Caitlyn wouldn’t accept that Noxus of all people had a valid point.

Evidently, neither would her mother. Cassandra held her hands up as one of the musicians raked their bow across their violin. The sound was grating, screeching, and managed to carry over the sea of voices. It brought the complaints and threats to heel, and her mother waited another beat, barely restrained anger on her face, visible only through a faint flush in her cheeks and the hard set of her jaw. She waited until the final voices died down, lowering her hands only once silence had finally settled.

“Are we children? Do we all rise to every remark made, every barb, without cause or consideration? Or are we all meant to represent our respective countries and people with dignity and poise?” Cassandra clasped her hands behind her back and sighed heavily. “Let our anger be known, but do not let it drive you. If you must dissent, do so with an air of dignity, not the clamor of a mad crowd. If we’re all quite done with our threats, I believe we can all agree that some of our guests might need a little fresh air, to reconsider their words and to allow tensions to ease.”

“My sincerest apologies, Lady Kiramman,” the Noxian began. “I hadn’t thought to incite discourse, I only –”

“Precisely. Had you thought, you would not have made such inflammatory remarks.” Cassandra sniffed, then waved off Camille as she and two of her men approached the stage. “Please, allow me to show you our gardens. I think it would be best for all parties involved if we step away for a moment, don’t you agree?”

Katarina inched forward, folding her arms together. Her ward, however, held a hand up and smiled warmly. “Always so magnanimous, Lady Kiramman. Thank you, I think I’ll take you up on your offer.”

The crowd moved as one as Cassandra stepped off stage with the Noxians in tow. Heather sought Caitlyn out in the crowd, then followed after the Kiramman head, disappearing among a sea of bodies. Which left Luxanna alone on stage, staring after where the others had gone. 

As though remembering herself, Luxanna looked back out at the crowd and paled. Eyes turned on her. Expecting, perhaps, for her to somehow redirect everyone’s ire back towards the festivities. As if she hadn’t been just as offended as all of them.

Caitlyn made a move towards the stage but stopped short when she heard Vi growl. Her lover stared after the Noxians, bristling, shoulders heaving as she bared her teeth. The bite on her shoulder ached and Caitlyn doubled back, setting a hand on Vi’s chest to try and soothe her, then cupping her cheek when that failed to work. Vi’s face turned towards her. Anger flashed in her eyes, her lips twitching, and Caitlyn was quick to cradle Vi’s face in both hands, trying to focus solely on her.

“Darling, it’s alright. They’re gone, and we’ll be fine. Whatever’s gotten you upset, it’ll resolve itself. Or we can talk about it.” Later. She needed to salvage the ball. Needed to redirect everyone before anger overtook them again. 

Except she couldn’t leave Vi. Not when she was seething. Not when she looked ready to strike whoever dared open their mouth.

Fortunately, the violinist stepped up once more. He began a slow, somber melody that grew into something tentatively hopeful as the lutist joined in. Then the harpist, and finally two female vocalists, matching the key and tempo of the impromptu performance. Caitlyn kept her attention on Vi. She brushed her thumbs against Vi’s cheeks, stepped closer until their bodies were almost flush, hoping that her scent might ground Vi like it had before. It was a few tense moments before Vi’s eyelids fluttered, and with a shuddering sigh she relaxed, her clenched jaw going slack, the last signs of her anger leaving her body.

“There you are, Violet. There you are…” Caitlyn whispered. She planted a kiss to Vi’s lips, then pressed their foreheads together. “Want to go sit down?”

Vi’s throat bobbed. She wet her lips, her eyelids fluttered. With a shaky exhale her eyes refocused on Caitlyn, scarred lips twisting into a slight smile. “Yeah… Yeah. Sounds good, Cait.”

Her hand slotted into Vi’s. Warm. Gentle. Human. Caitlyn eased her lover through the crowd towards the nearest empty table, keeping Vi close, glancing at her carefully to watch for any signs of her anger returning.

What is happening with you, Vi…?

Luxanna Crownguard did not drink.

She had never, not once in her life, ever had alcohol she enjoyed. Flavors ranged from toilet water to rotting vegetables. Everyone had their vice. Lux’s just so happened to be less obvious than others. Or perhaps even more obvious, depending on how well you knew her.

The glass of wine in her hand remained untouched. Crimson droplets dribbled down the rim, spilling onto the floor. A small part of her wanted to go seek out the nearest servant and apologize for soiling an otherwise tidy space. The rest of her was too angry at the Noxians to care about anything else. 

A flash of blue in her peripheral gave her pause. She exhaled, then smiled despite herself when Powder leaned into her field of view. “Hey, Sparkles! Still stewing?”

“I’m not stewing,” she mumbled. Heat crept to her cheeks. Why was she arguing against the obvious? Lux peered down at her untouched glass and set it aside with a sniff. “I’m just upset.”

“Tomato, tomahto. Those assholes in red and dread really got to you that much?”

“I’m pretty sure ‘dread’ isn’t a color, Powder.”

“No, but they’re wearing it like one! Seriously, the whole stinking ball was all blah over them! I don’t get it. I mean, they’re some crazy war people, even I know that much about Noxus. But when’s the last time they invaded anyone?” Roughly seven months ago. Ionia. Powder snorted and leaned back against the wall. “They’re obviously just trying to stir shit up, and you guys all fell for it, hook, line, and stinker!”

She doesn’t deserve your anger. Don’t blame her for anything. Luxanna took a slow, measured breath. She stepped away from the wall and began to pace, folding her arms tightly against her chest. “Three months ago, a scion of one of our high houses was found dead in a border town. It was a routine visit, a lord checking in on their vassals. The dagger in their back was of Noxian make.”

“Wait, so they, you know, assassinated someone? And left the evidence?” Powder scoffed. “That’s pretty fucking amateurish. Are they all stupid?”

“It was intentional, no doubt. To send a message to us. That even if there’s supposed peace between our kingdoms, they’re still making moves. Still trying to undermine and threaten.” Lux grit her teeth as tears pricked at her eyes. She glared down the hallway towards the ball, the lively, energetic melody at odds with the ugly bitterness in her chest. “They sent us someone they claimed to be the killer and he was executed for it. No one thinks he was the real culprit, but Noxus refused to send anyone else, and our people wanted recompense. Even though we knew it was a farce, we played along to try and keep the peace.”

“Even though Noxus started it? I’m honestly kind of impressed, getting away with murder like that.” Powder had her hands up the instant Luxanna whipped around to face her. “Woah, I’m not saying I’m happy about it, ‘kay? Just it’s pretty ballsy, leaving evidence and then throwing a scapegoat to the wolves. I didn’t realize those assholes were, well, assholes?”

If the shoe fits. Luxanna wiped at her eyes with a frustrated huff, then stopped her pacing when Powder stepped into her path. She refused to meet her eyes. Couldn’t, not without the last pieces of her carefully maintained composure crumbling. 

They had to play nice. Even if it was a farce. Even if they all would go back to hating one another later, they needed to pretend this was working. Otherwise, if they made no effort whatsoever, then things really never would change.

“Noxus always does this,” she found herself saying. “They poke and prod other kingdoms. They infiltrate, sow discord, spread lies, and watch from afar. They make us question each other and doubt our neighbors. Unity…” Lux ground out the word, grimacing as though it tasted foul on her tongue. “They only want unity if they’re the ones in control. Otherwise, people being together is like an insult to them. Like they can’t stand people flourishing without Noxus lording over them. And despite all of that, we have to try and play nice. We have to take the high ground while Noxus continues to be a thorn in everyone’s side!”

“No offense, but that’s pretty fucking stupid.”

“Thank you for your glowing appraisal, Powder,” Luxanna grumbled.

“I mean, in Zaun you just say what you mean, whether it’s good or bad. If someone’s being a prick, you fight. If someone kills someone, somebody else usually gets even.” Luxanna couldn’t help but gape at the admission. It sounded barbaric. Which was at stark odds with the sweet girl she’d been spending time with. “Don’t look so shocked, Luxy! Guards are more of a suggestion in Zaun,” Powder laughed. She flashed a playful smile and reached out to prod Lux’s arm with a finger. “We handle our own shit back home, and it’s worked out… Well, okay I guess? We’re usually too busy fighting each other to wage war with anyone else! Guess the whole ‘being poor and underfed’ part helps too…”

“It’s not the same thing, Powder.”

“No? What’s so different?” Powder cocked a hip and crossed her arms, tossing her hair with a smirk. “Why, because you’re all so high class and above us? Above honesty? Respectfully, Sparkles? Fuck. That. The biggest, shittiest thing about living up here has been having to walk and talk like I’m on eggshells all the time. It’s so annoying.”

“It’s not that we’re above everything, Powder. It’s just…” Luxanna rubbed her hands together anxiously. “If we all spoke candidly, we’d never stop arguing and nothing would get done. Believe me, I appreciate being more forthcoming, but it’s just too different. They’re two worlds that just don’t fit together.”

“Vi and Caitlyn work, and they’re about as polar opposites as you can get. And hell, this might just be me shooting in the dark here…” Powder poked Luxanna in the chest and waggled her eyebrows. “But I’m pretty sure that mouthy redhead and your brother got a thing going on too. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Luxanna grimaced. She looked away from Powder, fidgeting with a bit of her gown while rolling her tongue in her mouth.

“Hah, I knew it! See? Two totally different things can work out!”

“Why are we even talking about this again? I was complaining about Noxus being conniving and disingenuous, not whatever… Ridiculous relationships are going on around us!”

“Speaking of relationships…” Powder’s smile turned dangerous, her blue eyes narrowing as she leaned in close. Much too close. Lux’s back hit the wall and she gasped, her face warming as Powder’s laughter tickled her lips. “Where are we standing, by the way?”

“Us? I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, we’re playing that game? Alright then…” Powder planted her hand beside Lux, boxing her in on one side. “How many friends go sneaking off together? How many have little dorky dances, or make each other feel all tingly and warm inside?”

“Is… Is that an admission, or an accusation?”

“Wanna know another thing about Zaun?” Powder giggled. Her head canted to one side and her lips split into a toothy, playful grin. “We don’t beat around the bush. I mean, Vi does. Totally useless, that one. Couldn’t take a hint if you slapped her in the face with it. But most of us? We don’t know when we’re gonna wind up dead, so when you see something you want, you go for it.”

This was distracting her from a very real, serious concern. Luxanna wanted to stay on topic. Noxus was a problem. Katarina and whoever her ward was should be raising more alarms for everyone present. Except right now, the only alarm going off in Lux’s head was screaming at her to sort this out. To figure out why her heart was about to explode and why her whole body was pleasantly warm, and startlingly cold all at once.

“Come on, Sparkles. We’re both looking for something fun tonight, and you need a distraction. So…” Powder planted her other hand, trapping her in place. “What are we?”

What were they? Luxanna assumed they were just friends. They had grown close in a short period, yes. She enjoyed every moment she spent with Powder. Looked forward to more time together, even. She… Didn’t have many friends back in Demacia. Any that weren’t beholden to her or seeking some leverage by association, really. Quinn was sworn to her. Fiona was at best an acquaintance. Sylas… She wasn’t even going to touch that nightmare right now.

Luxanna would acknowledge she didn’t exactly have a good metric for friendships. She’d also acknowledge that she didn’t entirely know whether she and Powder were just friends, or something else entirely. 

The warm tingling wasn’t going away. Cold sweat dribbled down her back. Her heart kept thudding thunderously, her palms clammy no matter how fitfully she wiped them against her gown. 

Powder’s eyes narrowed a bit more. Her smile waned, almost faded. She searched Luxanna’s face for an answer when none was forthcoming. She…She should probably say something.

“We’re… We’re friends.”

“Friends?” Powder asked. Her voice was off immediately. Guarded.

Luxanna swallowed hard. She nodded, anxiety thrumming in her veins. “Y-Yes? We’re friends, aren’t we? Or have I been misreading things this whole time?”

Even with her pitiful pool of experience, surely she could recognize friendship when she saw it, right?

Powder hummed. She eased back slowly, arms dangling at her sides. For a moment they just stared at one another, the swirling discordance inside her heart never fading. Powder closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, then smiled faintly and nodded. “Yeah, we’re friends, Lux. Just friends.”

Luxanna balled her hands into fists, trying to deaden the burning urge in her fingers to reach out. When Powder turned away she wanted to draw her back in, even if she didn’t fully understand why. 

She’d answered honestly, hadn’t she? She considered Powder a dear friend. One of the few people in the world who saw Luxanna for herself, not her title or prestige.

“We should probably head back. Don’t want your big lug of a brother worryin’ about you, yeah?”

Then why did she feel like she’d answered wrong?

Powder spared her another look, raised her hand as if to offer it, then dropped it to her side. Flashing a wider smile, yet somehow a duller one, she nodded towards the ballroom. Once Lux fell in step with her they walked back together. Not hand in hand like they’d left. Not in low, hushed breaths, excited and angry. In silence.

The ball should be a relaxing affair. Yeah, she was dolled up like some cheap prize, but the clothes were comfortable. The music, while not really her style, still was pleasant to listen to, and what food she’d managed to eat had been tasty enough. Plus, Caitlyn was with her, hand in hand, guiding her between conversations and moments of quiet reprieve like a beacon in the night.

Vi just couldn’t relax though. Not when the smell of meat, of bodies kept making her mouth water. Not when being so close to other people made something foul inside of her roil in perverse delight. 

Caitlyn picked up on her unease. That was inevitable since she was the smartest fucking person in the entire room. Yet Caitlyn couldn’t attribute the cause, would never have guessed Vi was seconds from unraveling, because if she knew then they would have left.

Instead, Caitlyn stood closer to her. Let her usually comforting scent wash over Vi, and most days that would be enough. Except tonight. Caitlyn’s scent served as a fraction of comfort it normally would, leaving Vi still teetering precariously. 

After their third discussion with some hoity-toity Piltie Vi couldn’t recall the name of, and after growling at them like a feral beast, they were given a small reprieve. Caitlyn pulled them aside and got them both drinks. Maybe alcohol would dull her erratic temper. Maybe, just maybe, Caitlyn’s words and presence would finally be enough to put a stop to the encroaching storm. 

And then Cassandra appeared. 

Caitlyn’s mother, ever the picture of poise, practically glided across the room, a placid smile on her face. She regarded them with a curt nod, raising her glass to her lips and taking the smallest sip before gesturing to them. “You two have cleaned up rather well. How are you finding tonight’s festivities so far?”

Vi wouldn’t have answered if Cassandra wasn’t looking right at her. The expectant expression said more than a shrug was expected, so Vi gritted out a rough, “Fine.”

“Just fine?” Vi’s palms itched. She rolled her jaw, sucking in a sharp breath and holding it. “I should hope tonight has been more than ‘fine’,” Cassandra said. “We’ve spared no expense for our guests, and that includes you, Vi. If there’s something to be found wanting then do tell myself or Caitlyn. Rather than sulk or look so dour, maybe try to be proactive.”

“I said I’m fine,” Vi growled.

“No, you said the ball was ‘fine’. I never asked how you were faring. That said, your tone and posture suggests you are anything but ‘fine’.”

She didn’t have time for this. She didn’t need some snooty Topsider judging her, picking her apart like a fucking curiosity and dismantling everything she said. She was fine, damn it. So what if she didn’t want to eat, or dance, or talk to anyone that wasn’t Caitlyn? It shouldn’t matter if she wanted to tear the face off the next person who had the audacity to walk up to them and talk. All of that was perfectly normal.

She. Was. Fine.

Caitlyn’s body pressed against her side, her hand alighting on Vi’s chest. No doubt she felt the way Vi’s heart thundered. Hell, she could probably hear it. While Vi rolled her jaw and ground her molars, Caitlyn rubbed small circles into her chest, fingers brushing against her collar, lips featherlight on her temple as she was kissed.

“It’s just been a lot, mother,” Caitlyn said softly. “I don’t imagine Violet is used to meeting so many new people, and there are a lot of people here. It’s stressful, even for those of us used to it.” Caitlyn’s smile filled her periphery, her hand coming to stop on Vi’s shoulder. “And we’re sorry if we’re a little curt at the moment. Some of the guests have been difficult tonight, that’s all.”

“I see. Well, perhaps you would do well to lead by example then, dear. If a conversation is becoming unpleasant, you know how to tactfully remove yourself from it; lashing out or being rude is never permitted, especially not when we’re to be the gracious hosts.” Cassandra lifted her chin and fixed Vi with a stern look. Her eyebrows pinched ever so slightly, lips twisting into the slightest frown. “Do not speak out of turn if you feel yourself terse, young lady. We can ill afford to upset our company.”

“Yeah? Well, if you don’t want any problems then maybe they should all just fuck off .”

Caitlyn let out a sharp gasp. Cassandra went still as stone. The music carried on, people milled about, the world uncaring for her outburst. Yet it still felt like the entirety of existence itself ground to a halt as Cassandra stared her down. The woman’s mask slipped almost imperceptibly, her lip twitched, and her eyes narrowed in scorn. Vi let her lips draw back and sneered, uncaring as she leaned into Cassandra’s space.

Do something. Give me a reason. Give me a fucking reason, you old bitch.

Maybe they’d fight. She needed that. Gods, did she need it. She should have taken Katarina up on her offer earlier; anything would be better than meandering about and pretending to give a shit about the ball. About the people attending it.

Caitlyn eased her back with a gentle tug. Tried to. Vi relented when her pull was firmer, her eyes still locked on Cassandra’s. 

She was the matriarch. The head of the Kiramman household, and a hunter before Caitlyn took over the mantle. Surely she could fight back. It would be doing the family a service, making sure its eldest member could still hold her own. 

“I think Violet and I will step away for a moment, mother.”

“I think that’s for the best, yes,” Cassandra said. “See to it that she remembers herself before you return. Preferably, before I do something we might all regret.”

“Talk, talk,” Vi droned, rolling her eyes, then her shoulders. “That’s all you do, lady. How about you finally show some backbone?”

Most people would have risen to the challenge. Cassandra, unfortunately, was not most people. Vi bristled, her knuckles cracking at how hard she balled her hands into fists, watching the woman turn and step away without another word. Vi wanted to give chase, and almost did, until Caitlyn’s arm around her hips pinned her firmly in place. When Vi took a step forward Caitlyn moved into her path, placing her hand on her chest again to stop her. 

“Violet, stop.”

Vi craned her neck to spot out Cassandra in the crowd. She hated how the woman was already lost in another conversation. How easily she seemed to dismiss Vi altogether.

“Violet,” Caitlyn warned. She leaned into Vi’s field of view, worry and disapproval warring on her face. Her fingers caught Vi’s chin and directed her back when she tried looking away. “What’s going on with you? You cannot be speaking to my mother like that, and you’ve been short ever since earlier. Talk to me, darling.”

She wished she could. Vi wanted nothing more than to tell Caitlyn what was wrong.

That she was weak. That she was on the verge of breaking after being good for so long. 

If she admitted she was losing it, that would ruin everything they had worked towards. They wouldn’t trust her to travel, or to even be with Caitlyn. Powder would want nothing to do with her again. Vi couldn’t bear the thought of either of those. She knew that she should say something. Even if it was just to ask to be pulled aside and given a chance to breathe. Except even that would be an admission of weakness, an acknowledgement that she wasn’t okay, and that the Council had every right to doubt her.

Vi didn’t bother trying to smile. She didn’t bother trying to lie her way out of things. Her silence spoke volumes. She let her eyes drift closed, leaning into Caitlyn’s touch, filling her nostrils and her heart with her beloved’s scent. It still wasn’t enough to snuff out the growing flames of discontent, but maybe if she kept telling herself it was, maybe it would come true. 

A lull in the music brought with it an uncomfortable silence, only to be filled swiftly after by a new melody. Vi pressed her nose into Caitlyn’s wrist, inhaling heavily the scent of vanilla on her skin, then brushed her lips against the pulsepoint there, gently cradling her forearm to hold it in place.

“Maybe we should dance?” Caitlyn asked, smiling hesitantly when Vi finally looked at her again. “We haven’t had a chance to yet, and I don’t know if we’ll have time later. Would you… Like to dance, darling?”

She didn’t know how to dance. Not in any way that would be respectable to the frilly fucks infesting the dance floor. 

Vi let herself be pulled away. Kept her eyes solely on Caitlyn, on the way her hair swayed with each step, loose bangs dangling slowly, smiling gently while tugging Vi along by the hand. If she just focused on Caitlyn, pretended like no one else existed, she was almost okay. 

Once they found an empty spot for themselves Caitlyn guided her hands, one to her hip, the other to her shoulder. “Just let me lead, Vi,” Caitlyn whispered. “Watch my feet if you need to. It’s a simple, slow waltz. You can do this.”

Caitlyn was steadfast under her hands, and Vi thanked her for that. For the way Caitlyn managed, somehow, to instill a sense of calm. Always her rock. Vi stepped in closer, finally dredging up a smile for her beloved as Caitlyn’s hands settled on her shoulders. This close, she could make out the faint flecks of lighter blue in Caitlyn’s eyes. She followed the narrow bridge of her nose to her lips, licked her own, and leaned in on reflex only to huff when Caitlyn leaned away with a knowing smile.

“Later, Violet. Be patient.”

Patience sucked. She was never good at it, never would be, but for Caitlyn she could try, she supposed. 

It was a simple dance. It had to be, since Vi didn’t immediately trip over herself or barrel into Caitlyn. Step, turn, step, turn. Spin slowly, turn, dip. The music did the heavy lifting for them, each low, brassy tone punctuated by the higher stab of the harp, the high notes denoting when they should step. Though she’d never done it before Vi found it easy to follow Caitlyn’s lead. Their bodies, two entirely separate entities, moved as one, limbs flowing as effortlessly as a lazy stream. As Vi spun Caitlyn the lights caught her eyes just right and made them glow. Cerulean orbs enchanted her, drew her into a deep, almost delirious serenity, making the rest of the room fade into an obscure blur of colors and faces. 

The ball was unimportant. Vi’s anger remained there but had become distant. Muffled. The surge of fury that had threatened to spill over had been pushed back and contained, all thanks to Caitlyn. 

Vi found herself smiling in earnest, even laughing as their feet caught, stumbling slightly and catching Caitlyn against herself. She threw in an extra twirl for fun, dipped Caitlyn deeper, and almost forgot how to breathe as Caitlyn smiled up at her.

Her eyes were lidded, face, neck, and chest flushed a light pink. Strong yet tender hands held her steadily. Vi could picture the lithe muscles flexing as Caitlyn hauled herself back up, the way that Caitlyn moved with such surety making her grin like a fool. Caitlyn leaned in, her eyes sliding down Vi’s face, down her body, then back to her lips. 

Gods, she wished they could kiss.

“You look rather handsome tonight, Violet,” Caitlyn rasped. Her voice coiled around her, invisible fingers wending through her very soul while tangible ones raked through her hair gently. “It should be illegal to be so fetching.”

Vi leaned in, her chest rumbling as she brushed her lips along the shell of Caitlyn’s ear. “Speak for yourself, Cupcake. You’re fucking gorgeous in that dress…”

“Violet, behave…”

Vi stilled her fingers on the small of Caitlyn’s back, grinning as she let Caitlyn guide her hand away from her ass and back to her hip. She pressed her nose to Caitlyn’s neck and inhaled, bunching up her dress in her hand. She reveled in the heady scent of lavender, the slight tang of sweat, the even fainter but still palpable hint of arousal.

And the dull stink of something rotting and fetid. 

Caitlyn continued leading their dance as Vi’s brow furrowed. That wasn’t right. Why was she smelling something so foul? It reminded her of the Nuckelavee, yet it was somehow different. Like damp, soiled earth mixed with something sharp and acidic. Not quite bile, yet it was pungent, like meat spoiling. Decaying. 

Caitlyn danced unbothered, smiling dreamily when their eyes met. She noticed Vi’s discomfort however and glanced around, no doubt wondering what had put her on edge. Slowing their waltz, Caitlyn eased back a little and opened her mouth to speak.

The air fogged between them.

Vi saw Caitlyn shiver before she noticed the temperature had dropped. Other guests began to take notice too, plumes of warm air floating listless above their heads. Before long the musicians had stopped as well, melodious tunes replaced with hushed, puzzled murmurs. 

The scent of death grew stronger. Cloying. It reeked like a graveyard. Like carrion. 

Then, all at once, the lights in the ballroom went dark.

A startled yelp. A few cries of fright. Vi stepped back and began looking around as the hairs on her neck stood on end, the gnawing feeling of a need to fight returning in force and making her muscles burn in anticipation. Some people began to shout for light, oblivious to the encroaching stink of death. Others moved to try and calm their neighbors, including Cassandra Kiramman who had begun making a beeline for the stage. 

Caitlyn’s mother was halfway up the steps when a piercing, unearthly scream erupted.

The room was nearly pitch black, and yet something darker still moved through it. It flew out of a wall, over the heads of patrons, before lunging at someone. Its eerie wails were met with screams of terror as a man was lifted into the air, kicking and flailing against the shadowy figure. He arched harshly as a long, spindly hand thrust into his chest, his own cries cutting short as blood began to seep from every orifice, his skin turning sallow, his body shriveling before their very eyes.

His corpse hit the ground with a wet thud and chaos erupted.

Guests began to race for whatever exit was closest to them. Bodies slammed against them and Vi instinctively drew Caitlyn into her arms, bracing as people collided against her, pushing past as they ran for safety. 

Over the discordant cries, more screeching howls joined in the chorus. Other willowy figures swept into the room, diving indiscriminately, every assault resulting in another shriveled corpse.

She heard Camille’s voice screaming for her people to protect civilians. Cassandra shouted for lanterns to be reignited, and for her own guards to defend as well. A brilliant, blue bolt of arcane energy narrowly missed one of the creatures and Jayce pushed against the wave of bodies, hand raised, his scowl illuminated in blue flashes as he tried to strike down one of the beings.

Another screech, one far too close for comfort. Caitlyn pushed against Vi’s embrace and looked around desperately. “Salt! We need salt!” she screamed. When she broke free she looked at Vi desperately, chest heaving. “Wraiths. Salt, blessed weapons, holy water. Find whatever you can to fight them.”

“Wraiths? What the hell are wraiths? Where am I supposed to get any of that?!”

Caitlyn pulled her in briefly, their lips mashing together in a forceful kiss. Just as quickly she was stepping away, rushing towards the stage through the crowd. “Find Jayce, work with him! Be safe!”

Work with… Why couldn’t she stay with Caitlyn?! How was she supposed to find any of that shit in all this mayhem? Vi looked around furtively to try and find Jayce, but others had begun to fight back as well. Blind, errant shots of arcane shot through the air, narrowly missing the wraiths, or flying wide. Without light most people couldn’t hope to see anything. With everyone screaming, it was almost impossible to pin down the wraiths by their wails alone.

She needed to help. Did she light torches? Should she try fighting?

Where was Powder? Would Caitlyn be okay on her own? 

Why wouldn’t her body move?

Why couldn’t she do anything?

Someone slammed into her and Vi moved to push them aside only to freeze when she saw their sunken face. The woman’s body barely weighed a thing, and the blood leaking from her body stank, like it had been irrevocably tainted. She choked down a scream and threw the body aside, her palms slick with something cold and oily. Before she had time to even consider wiping it off, one of the wraiths descended upon her.

It reeked of death. Of putrefied flesh, like a body left in the streets of Zaun left to molder. Ashy, ragged cloth hung over a bony frame, long, gnarled fingers grasping for her throat as lipless teeth gnashed at her. Beneath the hood of the cloak, a lone, yellowed eye glared down at her, bloodshot and bulging, set back in a fractured, partially-naked skull.

She grasped its arms and pushed back, pressing further into the floor as its jaw snapped at her. Vi grimaced, trying desperately to will her transformation to the fore, for even the slightest sliver of her curse to save herself. 

The wraith screeched and she felt her eardrums pop. Her blood turned to ice and her body grew heavy, her arms trembling in effort to keep the creature’s hands from piercing her. She pictured the woman, drained hollow and desiccated, fitfully trying to push with her legs to drive the monster away.

A flash of arcane slammed into the wraith and sent it spilling across the floor. Vi gasped, the ghostly draw of her strength vanishing in an instant, coughing and sputtering as her heart stumbled to regain its footing. Jayce raced over, jumped over her prone form, and pounced on the wraith, matching its scream with one of his own. Pinned, the wretched thing writhed and scratched fitfully, greenish-brown rot spewing from its mouth. Jayce screamed louder and pressed a hand over its mouth, channeled magic, and set it loose.

The wraith inflated slightly before blue light exploded from within, rupturing its whispery form and destroying it in an instant. Its cloak barely settled beneath Jayce before he was on his feet again, checking on her briefly before rushing off to the next idiot in need.

Still sputtering, Vi pushed herself up unsteadily. People had begun to clutter together against the doors, locking themselves in by virtue of numbers. No one seemed to be getting outside, and several wraiths continued to fly through the room, picking people off one by one. 

Her head spun as she took hurried steps towards… Something. Where could she be of use? What should she do? Caitlyn had given her instructions, yet she didn’t know where to find any of it. Couldn’t exactly ask in the midst of everything. Her eyes darted, searching out someone in need, desperate to help all the while pleading that Powder was safe.

At long last, one of the lanterns flared back to life. Then another, and a third. Scattered around the room, separated enough that most of the space was still cast in shadow, but it helped. Enough that another arc of arcane energy struck true and sent a wraith crashing to the ground, immediately set upon by two Ferros men with their weapons. Another arched higher only to be struck by two silver bolts and pinned to a wall, with a third burying itself in its open maw as it screeched. 

On stage, Cassandra moved swiftly, a sword in her hand burning with a bright yellow flame. She shouted over the noise, words lost in the cacophony, and gestured broadly to members of the house fighting to return light to the room. One wraith descended upon the help and Cassandra moved with alarming speed, a blur more than anything, and cut down the monster with one swift strike. 

Somehow through it all their eyes met, Cassandra’s alight with a hunter’s telltale glow. She frowned but said nothing, made no gesture or proclamation, turning away and hastily moving to engage another wraith.

Lights continued to come back on. Vi hurried to try and help a fallen woman to her feet, passing her off to someone else, neck almost snapping as she turned frantically for anyone else in need. 

The burning lanterns provided some light, but not much. The chandeliers couldn’t be relit, not with people running about. Thankfully, however, there was more light to be found. It just wasn’t from where Vi might have expected it.

A yellow flame appeared on one end of the room and swiftly spread, racing along the floor, climbing higher than she was tall. With most people on the other side of the flame, trapped between walls or clogged doorways, screams of terror erupted anew. Until a wraith tried to fly towards them only to rebound off the air itself, as though a wall had been constructed. It crashed against it again, smashing itself against the barrier, then howled as a bolt pierced its skull. At the base of the flames Caitlyn glowed, a bowl of salt spilled at her feet, arms raised and crossbow already reloaded. She shouted for help and Jayce rushed to her side, spreading salt further and causing the wall of flames to glow and grow brighter. 

Those who weren’t hidden behind the apparent barrier were corralled into small pockets, with Ferros, Kiramman, and foreign guards protecting them. It was still chaotic though, and wraiths continued to soar through the ballroom, taking to more guerilla tactics now that the bulk of the civilians had been cordoned off. 

Powder’s scream split the air.

Vi found her in an instant. At a far off corner, Powder and Luxanna stood alone, with a lone wraith upon them. A flickering barrier of arcane engulfed them, Luxanna’s hands raised, face twisted in focus, but it wasn’t enough. The wraith struck the barrier again and again, each blow causing it to crack, sending flecks of magic falling like shards of glass. 

Vayne was nowhere to be seen, neither was Garen. Powder screamed again, Lux nearly fell to her knees.

Vi ran across the room before she could even think.

The wraith screeched and struck the barrier with both hands, rotted blood leaking from its hands where magic burned away at mottled flesh. It continued to strike, focused solely on the two terrified women before it, and not at all on the charging embodiment of rage at its back.

Her body rippled and burned. Her bones ached, her skin peeled, and Vi screamed as she tackled the wraith to the ground, away from her sister. They rolled before she ended up atop it like Jayce had before. Unlike Jayce, she didn’t have the arcane at her beck and call. She couldn’t summon lightning or fire, or light like Luxanna had. 

That was fine. She didn’t need it.

Vi screamed, howled, as she began to tear apart the monster. Her claws rended apart the skeletal abomination, shredding skin and bone, cloth and whatever else the fucking thing was made of. It hissed and rallied against her, raking its claws through her own skin, tearing away bloodied clumps of fur and cloth. She felt none of it. All she felt was the thing beneath her being reduced to scraps. To barely a hint of what it had been seconds ago. Vi dug her claws so deep that she scored the floor with them, the scent of a wrong, unnatural death an affront to her senses, compelling her to tear, and tear, and tear. 

It wasn’t until the thing’s skull was crushed under her hand that she stopped, staring down at the formless, shredded mockery of a corpse beneath her.

Other wraiths wailed. More lights came on. They might be winning the battle. Everyone might be dead. All Vi knew was she heard Powder scream again and her focus shifted back to her sister. To her horrified face, body trembling, and to the ashen Luxanna stood before her, hands raised placatingly. 

Her body wouldn’t be hard to get through. Powder needed her. Powder was afraid. Luxanna was near her. Luxanna was frightening Powder.

Vi descended upon them with gnashing fangs and swiping claws. The Crownguard’s barrier shot back up and immediately began to splinter under the assault. Shards of arcane fell away under Vi’s touch, and as she snapped at Luxanna, a second barrier went up. So be it. She’d destroy that one too. She’d tear down as many as needed until she could destroy this stupid girl and anything else foolish enough to threaten her sister. 

Vi slammed her claws down again and broke through a second time, lips peeling back in satisfaction. Before she could land a fatal blow something large and solid struck her side, sending her across the floor. 

“Stand down!” Garen shouted, brandishing his greatsword. “Stand down or be cut down, beast! I won’t hesitate!”

Powder screamed again and Vi was back on her feet, charging Garen with a throat-straining howl. A bolt slammed into her shoulder and made her stumble. Another struck her thigh and she fell to her knees, snarling furiously as blood spilled onto the tile. Vayne stood at Garen’s side, matching Vi’s scowl as she cocked another bolt. Behind them, Luxanna was pleading. For what, Vi didn’t know. She didn’t care.

She had to get to Powder. Had to get her away from these people. Protect her from these monsters.

She charged again, only this time a blur of blue intercepted her. Vi raised her claw to attack and froze, staring down at Caitlyn. 

Caitlyn wasn’t armed. Her sword was sheathed at her hip, her crossbow unloaded on her wrist. She held her arms out at her sides, face pale and glistening with sweat. She met Vi’s gaze and didn’t flinch when Vi let out a guttural roar, lifting her chin as if in defiance of her threat.

“Violet, stand down!” Caitlyn said. Ordered. She remained still when Vi snarled again. “The wraiths are dealt with, your sister is safe. Please, love, enough already!”

Powder wasn’t safe though. She was still terrified. These people were scaring her, and so Vi needed to save her. Needed to kill them all. Only then would Powder be okay. Only once they were alone, together, would her sister stop screaming.

Caitlyn took a step closer. She smiled faintly, slowly reaching out towards Vi as her throat bobbed. She reeked of sweat, and the slightest hint of blood. No fear though. Not unlike everyone else who absolutely stank of it. Vi… Wasn’t sure what to do with that information. It was enough to make her not react at first as Caitlyn reached out towards her, fingers splaying across her chest, warm even through the fur now coating Vi’s body.

“It’s okay, darling,” Caitlyn whispered. “It’s okay. You don’t have to fight anymore…”

Vi shuddered, lowering her head and whining softly. Caitlyn’s voice was so soft. So gentle. She wanted to hear more of it. To smell her. To be closer to her.

Powder let out a strangled cry and Vi roared, seeing through Caitlyn’s deception. She swung and sent Caitlyn to the ground, watching as her head rebounded off the floor and she cradled her arm to her chest. 

Vi lunged for the others, nearly upon them before chains lashed around her. She hit the ground, narrowly missing Caitlyn, and tried to wrest herself free from their hold. Another chain lashed around her legs, and a third caught one arm. She raised her head, snapping her teeth at Garen until a fourth caught her by the throat. She clawed at the floor angrily, pulling against the restraints, which had the side effect of silver links biting deeper into her skin. 

For all her rage, she couldn’t pull herself free. She was hopeless as she watched Luxanna and Powder be led away by members of House Ferros, reaching with her free arm desperately for her sister. That limb too was pinned under Camille’s foot, and Vi snarled, snapping at the woman’s prosthetic leg in hopes of tearing it off.

“And this is the beast that you have under control?” Camille asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“Don’t hurt her!” Caitlyn cried. “She’s already restrained, don’t touch her!”

“She’s hardly harmless, girl. Or did you not see her attempt to kill Lady Crownguard? Look at yourself, bleeding, and yet you’re still defending her?” Camille lowered her sword, the narrow tip of the blade pressing into Vi’s neck. “Delusional, every one of you.”

Caitlyn moved to do… Something. All Vi saw was her be grabbed and pulled away, kicking and striking out while screaming profanities. The blade pressed against her neck harder, piercing skin and drawing blood. She growled, pressing faintly back against it, still keen on sinking her teeth into that damned woman’s flesh.

“Lady Ferros, stand down,” Cassandra commanded. She remained out of Vi’s view - it was a little difficult to turn your head with a blade buried in your neck. “She is the responsibility of House Kiramman, and I will deal with her accordingly. Stand down.”

Camille might have acquiesced. She might have scorned Cassandra. Vi didn’t know, because a second object stuck into her neck and she immediately began to feel exhausted. Pinned down, she could do nothing but growl weakly as fatigue began to rapidly set in, robbing her of all of her righteous fury. As her consciousness faded, eyelids growing heavy, she thought she saw Caitlyn collapse beside her, and could have sworn she heard her name being called.

Vi stared blankly at whoever was before her. Her eyelids grew heavier, and she became tired. So... So tired...

Drip.

Cold stone dug into her knees. Something hard dug into her wrists. As Vi came to, she could feel her arms torqued at an awkward angle, shoulders throbbing in protests. Her eyelids were so, so heavy. She shifted to try and find some relief, and frowned when she heard chains jostle.

Drip.

Chains. A cold room of stone. Dripping water.

It couldn’t be.

Pushing past the heaviness threatening to drag her back down, Vi forced her eyelids open. And came face to face with a distressingly familiar sight.

She was back in the cell. Her cell. She’d recognize the dinghy room even after so long away from it. The bars that had separated her from human decency. The scuffed stone floor marred by her impatient pacing. Blearily, she stared through them, at the two figures in silver tabards, each armed with a shortsword, backs squarely to her.

Those were new.

She worked her jaw. Her mouth felt so dry, like she’d been without water for days. She tugged on the chains and barely moved, grit her teeth, and let out a frustrated, weak growl. The two guards shifted slightly but didn’t respond.

“Where am I?” she rasped. They still didn’t reply.

Kiramman cells. She knew where she was. The question was why. The last thing she could remember was being at the ball with Caitlyn. Being on the dance floor, enjoying, to her unending surprise, a Piltie event with her partner. She wasn’t much of a dancer, was even less of a high society type of gal, yet she’d managed to enjoy their –

Powder’s scream rang in her ears and Vi choked on a gasp, pulling desperately against her restraints again. “My sister? Where’s my sister?!” she demanded. “Where is Powder? Tell me!”

One of the guards glanced over his shoulder, face impassive, before he turned away wordlessly.

“I said, tell me where my sister is, you fucks!” she screamed, voice breaking as it raised. The chains still refused to give way, and when she tugged they burned her skin. Literally. Vi hissed and looked at the manacles, heart sinking as she saw the raw, red skin beneath the cuffs. 

Silver. They had her in silver again, just like when they had first brought her in. 

That didn’t matter. Powder had been attacked, had been screaming for help. For her. Desperation and terror compelled her to pull more at her bindings, whimpering as they burned, feeling warm blood trickling down her wrists, hearing it drip onto the floor. She screamed her sister’s name again. Maybe Powder would hear her if she was loud enough. Maybe Caitlyn would and she’d come running to let her out. 

She needed to find her sister. Had to make sure she was okay. Why wouldn't these assholes let her then?!

Vi pulled too hard and felt her shoulder pop. Crying out softly she slumped back, gritting her jaw and squeezing her eyes closed. She wouldn’t cry, not through her pain or her panic. She refused to give these bastards the satisfaction of seeing that. Even if she’d already begun hyperventilating. Even if her fingers were starting to burn as she clawed awkwardly at the manacles. She pulled, twisted, tried to yank her hand through the bindings.

One of the guards stepped away and started to walk towards the stairs. Through glassy eyes she watched him vanish, heard the door open, then slam shut, leaving her alone with only one other. 

They’re going to get Caitlyn, she reasoned. Caitlyn would come down and sort this all out. Then she’d see Powder and everything would be okay. She’d be okay.

Vi felt anything but okay as she waited for the guard’s return. Uncertainty kept her pulse racing, her mind catastrophizing all the ways that Powder could be hurt. Dead, even. The notion that her baby sister might be six feet under almost broke her on the spot, and Vi forced herself to take deep, if uneven breaths to try calming down. She’d know if Powder died, right? That’s how this went. There’d be the inexplicable feeling of something being off and she’d just know. It had worked that way with Vander. She was pretty sure she’d felt it with their mom and dad too.

Except all she could feel was panic and pain. The ache in her muscles. The gnawing emptiness in her stomach. She pulled against the chains again and whimpered. Right, her shoulder. Without any way to set it she could only kneel there and suffer, doing her best not to move too much.

When the door opened again Vi sank back. Dared to smile even, her still lingering fatigue sapping what little fight she’d had in her. She listened to the approaching footsteps, awaiting Caitlyn’s appearance like the rising sun.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

The woman before her was not Caitlyn Kiramman. It was perhaps the farthest thing from her Caitlyn. 

Cruel. Cold. Ruthlessly efficient. Almost more metal than woman.

Camille Ferros made no expression as their eyes met. Hands folded behind her back, she stood still, the only sound in the cells Vi’s ragged breathing and the incessant drip… drip…

Vi tried to smile. Tried to mask her mounting hysteria behind something akin to bravado. “Hey, y-you’re with the Kirammans, right? You here to let me out?”

“Did I give you permission to speak to me, mongrel?”

Well, fuck you too then. “Why am I here?” she asked. Pleaded. Camille sniffed, then looked at her hand as though inspecting her nails. Vi wet her dry lips and leaned closer, grunting as her shoulder throbbed painfully. “Answer me! Why am I here? What’s going on?”

“I do not have time for your mania, child.”

“Then why are you here?! Why am I down here?” Vi snapped.

“You truly remember nothing? How peculiar. I was given to believe you retained your sanity.” Camille frowned, stepping closer and reaching out with one finger. The wards on the cell crackled at her touch, shifting lazily as she dragged a finger along it. “Then again, considering last evening’s events, I’m not surprised you don’t recall.”

Her frazzled mind frantically tried to piece together what had happened. 

They had been at the ball. Everything had been fine. She’d been fine, Caitlyn had been fine, Powder had been fine. Then Powder screamed and… And…

And what? She couldn’t even recall what had made her sister scream. Had something attacked her? How? They were in the Kiramman estate, perhaps the safest place in all of Piltover. Nothing should have been able to get to her there. And even if something did, the place was filled with hunters and people who knew how to fight monsters. Anything stupid enough to break in would’ve been dead in an instant. 

You’re chained up. You don’t remember anything.

It began to dawn on her that she might be why Powder had screamed. Vi refused to accept that. Even as horror sickened her, leeching her poor excuse of bravado away, she tried to deny it. She also tried to get an answer about Powder again; her sister had to be okay, otherwise Vi would lose her mind. 

“You attacked Lady Crownguard. A few others as well.” No, she didn’t. She couldn’t have. Vi stared at the stones, refusing to meet Camille’s gaze lest she see truth in it. “The Kirammans lauded you for your self control. Enough so that they let you walk around unchecked, as though you aren’t tainted by your curse. Well, we saw how that worked out last night, didn’t we?”

“Who else did I attack?” Attacking anyone sucked. Attacking Luxanna sucked a bit more, if only because it would hurt Powder. 

Vi tried to piece together what might have happened. Who would have intervened if she’d lost control of herself. If she’d gone after Lux, then Garen and Vayne were certainly involved. Not much love lost there. If she had gone feral and tried to hurt anyone then Caitlyn would have… She might have…

“Is Caitlyn okay?” Camille brushed a nonexistent bit of dust from her crisp coat. “Is Caitlyn okay?!” Vi demanded, voice breaking. “Answer me! Is Caitlyn okay?!”

“I thought your concern was for Powder?”

“Don’t fucking play with me, lady! Just answer the question!”

Something had her heart in a vice grip. Breathing hurt. Vi choked on air as it fought to fill her lungs, warmth trickling down her forearms. She dragged her legs, tried to stand, only to chafe her knees as she fell back to them. 

Camille let out a faint hum. Not quite amused, not quite indifferent. “Your attacks have prompted the Council to reconsider the ill-advised immunity the Kirammans have granted you up until now. I think everyone has at last come to their senses and seen you for what you are: a walking hazard. I don’t anticipate a swift decision, even then,” Camille muttered with a faint huff. “The Council rarely is efficient, after all. But I’m certain they will come to the only reasonable decision before them.”

“I didn’t hurt anyone! I didn’t…” Vi sobbed. Her chin hit her chest and she squeezed her eyes shut. Tears still slid down her cheeks. 

“I would say make yourself comfortable, mongrel, but your comfort is of little concern to me. Once a decision has been reached, you will be moved to my estate for proper confinement, where you will doubtless await your execution. I would suggest you make peace with yourself before then.”

She had to get out. She needed to see if Caitlyn and Powder were okay. She had to get free, somehow.

She could transform. Then she’d have the strength, surely. A brilliant idea if she knew how to do it on demand. Vi tried though. She imagined it, tried to conjure whatever she needed to change herself. Anger. Helplessness. Fear. It was emotional, right? Hadn’t someone said that before? Well, she was plenty emotional as another sob tore from her throat, her body tingling with energy just beyond her reach. 

Vi could feel it. The curse. The werewolf begging to be unleashed, an outlet for her indignation and desperation both. Except every time she reached for it she hit a wall. Something was keeping her from accessing it. 

She tossed her head and blinked through the tears, then saw them. Scattered glass vials on the cell floor with remnants of blue liquid pooling around them.

Viktor’s sedative. Copious amounts of it at that. 

“Make certain she doesn’t attempt an escape. As implausible as it is,” Camille mused, sounding oddly satisfied. “And notify me if she does somehow transform again. As you were, gentlemen.”

“No, no, wait!” Vi pulled against her restraints and almost collapsed as pain erupted in her shoulder. “Come back! You have to let me see Caitlyn at least! Tell her to come see me!” She listened to the sharp clink of Camille’s footsteps fading away. “Tell her to come here! She’ll sort this out! I didn’t hurt anyone!”

You did. That’s why you’re here.

“I’m innocent!” 

You’re not. You killed them, Vi.

“Please…” Vi sobbed. “Please. Tell Caitlyn… Tell Powder…”

Did it matter? If she was here, if her execution was pending, then Caitlyn might very well be gone.

And Vi had no one to blame besides herself.