Chapter Text
Vi slid her hand into the Prince’s, their fingers entangling with a natural ease. The Prince’s hands were warm, and she offered Vi a reassuring squeeze, one Vi returned instantly. Without another word, the Prince led them across the bridge as the snow began to fall heavier and heavier around them.
None of Vi’s earlier fears of crossing the bridge to Piltover returned during their walk. Something about being with the Prince made her feel completely safe, despite meeting the girl only a few hours before.
As they neared the end of the bridge, a silhouette appeared in the distance. Upon closer inspection, Vi saw that it was a tall man with broad shoulders, wearing a uniform similar to the Prince’s but in white, with the same gold trim, and an ornate sabre on his hip.
Once they reached him, the man’s face broke out into a relieved grin.
“Your majesty, thank goodness you’re safe!” he said, reaching to place his hand on the Prince’s shoulder. “We’ve all been so worried.”
The Prince let go of Vi’s hand and patted the man’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m alright, Cavalier. Really.”
The man, Cavalier, turned to Vi. “And who’s this?” He looked her up and down with wide brown eyes, examining Vi’s wet slippers, pajama pants, and tattered robe not with disdain (as Vi might’ve expected from such a well dressed Piltie), but with curiosity.
Vi opened her mouth to respond, but the Prince interjected.
“This is Vi,” she said. “She’s from the Undercity. And she’s the one who saved my life in battle with the rat king. I’ve now made her one of my knights.”
Cavalier raised an eyebrow at Vi, seemingly impressed. “Well, then,” he replied, his smile broadening. “We must celebrate your safe return and your newly appointed knight. Come quickly! Sugar Plum’s party is about to begin.”
Not waiting for them to respond, he turned on his heels, marching deeper into the city. The Prince took Vi’s hand once more, and they followed.
*
Vi tried to get a lay of the land as they walked, having always been curious about what Piltover looked like despite her predispositions. The snowstorm obscured most of it, but from what she could see the buildings were beautiful, a delicate array of glass, metal, and stone. Everything looked like it belonged in a palace, and they hadn’t even reached the castle. Or at least, Vi assumed there was a castle somewhere, if she was with a Prince.
At long last, they reached a set of large, wooden doors underneath a stone archway, carved with incredible detail in the scene of a vast pine forest. Two large brass rings the size of Vi’s head served as handles, and before she could admire the architecture further, Cavalier pushed the doors open.
They stood at the end of a long hall, with shiny marble floors, polished gold columns, and a ceiling so tall Vi couldn’t see the top. Glittering gold chandeliers seemed to float in mid-air, casting an angelic glow across the entire room. The center of the room was wide open, with long tables lining either side. At the other end of the room sat another table, perpendicular to the others and perched higher so its occupants could look out over the rest of the room with ease. White tablecloths lined each table, with gold plates and silverware, and bouquets of white flowers placed every few feet.
Vi tried to look everywhere at once, nearly dizzy with the spectacle before her. People of all shapes and sizes filled nearly every seat, their conversations creating a euphonious buzz. There was a creature with fluffy white hair that was about as tall as Vi’s hips sitting at one table, talking intently with a skinny man with floppy brown hair sporting a sinewy, purple arm. At another table sat a man made entirely of gold, with hexagonal eyes and a mouth that looked like a gas mask, gently arguing with a blonde man in a wheelchair sitting across from him.
Cavalier led them down the center of the room, everyone they passed turning to salute the Prince and inspect Vi quizzically. They each murmured under their breath to the person sitting next to them, but made no outward comments as to Vi’s surprise appearance given she had the Prince as an escort.
Upon reaching the high table, Vi noticed that the four seats at the center were empty. While wondering who those seats might be for (Perhaps the King and Queen? Vi thought), footsteps approached from behind them.
Vi and the Prince turned around, seeing a stunning woman standing before them, with dark skin covered in delicate gold tattoos, and radiant hazel-green eyes. She smiled widely at them with sparkling white teeth, her arms held open in greeting.
“There you are, my darling, I was so worried!” she exclaimed, pulling the Prince into a tight hug. Vi felt herself be yanked forward, still clutching tightly to the Prince’s hand, and she reluctantly let go.
The Prince repeated the same speech she’d given Cavalier, insisting she was alright, and recounted how Vi had saved her life.
Once Vi was mentioned, the gorgeous woman looked at her with a glint in her eyes, and before Vi knew it she was being pulled into her own fierce hug.
“Thank you for saving my dearest friend,” she hummed sweetly in Vi’s ear.
Releasing Vi from her clutches, the Prince finally made the proper introduction.
“Vi, this is Sugar Plum. And this is her party,” the Prince began. “She throws the most spectacular holiday parties in all of Piltover, if you can imagine.”
Vi can’t imagine, but she doesn’t say that. Instead, she practiced her best manners.
“Thank you very much for including me in your festivities, Ma’am,” she said politely with a nod of her head.
“Oh, well aren’t you darling,” Sugar Plum replied, gently pinching Vi’s cheek. “Come on, let’s take our seats. The party is about to begin!”
And with that, she spun away on her heel, taking Cavalier by the elbow and leading him around the end of the long table. The Prince followed them, and Vi kept close to her heels.
Sugar Plum and Cavalier sat at the two seats on either side of the center. Vi wondered where she and the Prince were supposed to sit, but to her surprise the Prince led her to the two seats at the center of the high table. Vi was almost too stunned to speak as the Prince pulled out one of the chairs, gesturing politely for her to sit.
Vi eventually managed to find words. “Shouldn’t I be pulling out your chair, your majesty?” she asked playfully.
The Prince smiled. “Oh please, you’re my guest tonight,” she replied with a wink, and Vi felt herself blushing all over again, no longer able to hide her pink cheeks under the bright lights.
Once the Prince took her seat next to Vi, Sugar Plum stood up once more, raising her empty glass in the air and tapping it with her spoon. At the sound, the hall silenced instantly.
“Thank you all for coming to yet another wonderful holiday feast!” she began, her arms outstretched as if offering a hug of greeting to everyone in the room, and was met with a chorus of cheers.
“This year we have even more cause to celebrate, as our very own Crown Prince has returned!” she continued, to a round of delighted applause amongst the partygoers.
“In addition,” Sugar Plum announced, “The Prince has defeated the vicious rat king of Zaun, thanks to the assistance of her new knight, Violet. Please give three cheers to our heroes!”
The partygoers raised their glasses in unison, calling out in perfect harmony.
“HOORAH”
“HOORAH”
“HOORAH”
As the booming echo dissipated, Sugar Plum concluded her speech.
“And now, let the celebration begin!”
She clapped her hands, and at once the room filled with waiters, clad in all white and carrying tray after tray of delicious looking food.
Vi had no semblance of what feasts in Piltover would look like, but she didn’t expect to be entirely made of…sweets.
The first thing that landed on her plate was a giant, perfectly crafted chocolate cupcake.
It looked awfully similar to the ones Vi’s brothers had gotten her the night before. A hearty laugh escaped her chest.
“Cupcakes, really?” she exclaimed, turning to her left to look at the Prince, who had already somehow eaten half of hers. Once the Prince had swallowed her latest bite, she turned to Vi.
“These are my favorite,” she said, her eyes shimmering. “They’re made specially with chocolate imported from Camavor.”
Vi let out a giggle before she could think otherwise. “Alright, if you say so, Cupcake.” Suddenly worried she had crossed a line, she busied herself with trying a bite of the rich pastry, finding it somehow even more sweet and delicious than the one her brothers gave her.
The Prince glanced at her sideways with her eyebrows raised, but miraculously didn’t comment on the nickname, instead choosing to dig back into her cupcake with fervor. Before she could blink, Vi had inhaled her entire treat, feeling her stomach laden with hearty sweetness, not sure she could manage to eat anything else.
Next came a tray of gilded mugs, filled to the brim with a dark brown liquid.
Vi looked over at the Prince expectantly, seeing steam rising from their cups.
“This is coffee from Shurima,” the Prince explained. “Don’t worry, it’s the perfect temperature.”
Vi took a careful sip, and sure enough it was delightfully warm and not too hot. She had tried Vander’s coffee before, and thought it tasted terrible, but this was different. It was smooth and deeply flavorful, complimenting the residual taste of chocolate.
She was so mesmerized by the coffee that she didn’t notice another steaming cup being set in front of her.
The Prince leaned over to whisper in her ear, her breath warm and tickling on her skin.
“Tea is next, from Ionia, to cleanse your palate.”
Vi felt herself grow warm all over again, the Prince’s melodic voice flowing like sweet honey into her ears. Trying to distract herself once again, Vi took a sip of her tea, which was floral and herbaceous, and was perfect for cleansing the chocolate and coffee from her tongue.
Once complete with their tea, the cups were whisked away, and the center of the room was cleared.
The Prince tilted her head towards Vi once more. “Now begins the entertainment,” she noted, sitting back in her chair.
Vi took her cue, getting comfortable in her chair, which was a nice respite from the decadently sweet meal, and turned her eyes towards the center of the room.
All at once a long line of people streamed in, clad in red and white striped outfits, and began to dance.
“A traditional dance from Freljord,” the Prince explained, as Vi watched the dancers with rapt attention. They moved effortlessly along the floor, almost like they were floating in the air instead of stepping, weaving between each other like they'd practiced it a million times. Vi was mesmerized.
Then, all too soon, the dancers made their way off the floor in a flash of white and red, making way for another, smaller troupe clad in uniforms of a toasted almond color.
“A tribute to Noxus,” the Prince noted, turning back towards the display. Vi watched in awe, this dance appearing to be more like a military march compared to the previous group’s seamless fluidity.
Each of the dancers then marched towards the high table, stopping to bow at the Prince, who offered them a kind nod. They took their leave, clearing the dance floor once more.
Vi looked around eagerly, awaiting the next round of entertainment. This time, just a single person entered the dance floor, a large woman wearing an even larger dress.
Then, she clapped her hands, and a small child emerged from a seam in her dress, carrying a plate full of what appeared to be cookies. The woman slowly began to dance to soft music as more and more children emerged from underneath the fabric, each carrying their own plate to hand out treats to the various tables.
Vi could hardly believe how many children managed to fit under the dress. Eventually, the stream of endless children stopped, and the last one to appear brought her plate up to Vi and the Prince.
“Thank you, little one,” the Prince offered kindly, taking the small cookies off the plate. Beaming at them, the child curtsied, then scurried back to follow the other children back under the dress.
The Prince handed Vi one of the cookies.
“Gingerbread, from Demacia,” she said, taking a bite of hers.
Vi took one small bite of her cookie, then had to resist the urge to inhale the rest, as it was delicious. She savored her treat as the woman made her way off the dance floor.
Next came another group, each dressed in their own distinct outfit in a variety of colors. Counting fourteen dancers in total, Vi squinted as she tried to make out what they were representing, but the answer eluded her.
The Prince must have sensed her confusion.
“This is Piltover’s contribution,” she clarified. “A waltz. Each dancer represents a different flower grown in the botanical gardens here.”
Well, that explained why Vi wasn’t able to make sense of the costumes. She’d seen a small selection of flowers in Zaun before, but had never seen such a variety of shapes and colors, and had certainly never been to a botanical garden.
The flowers danced impressively on their toes, breaking off into smaller groups before returning to the larger ensemble throughout the dance. Vi felt her smile widening as she watched, finding that this was quickly becoming her favorite dance. One of the dancers was clad in an outfit in a soft purple color, which prompted Vi to turn to the Prince with a question.
“Is that one meant to be a violet?” she asked shyly.
The Prince looked over at her, a delighted smile creeping onto her face. “Why yes,” she replied, patting Vi’s arm.
Then, she said something that had Vi turning the reddest she’d been all night.
“The most beautiful flower out there, if you ask me,” she muttered with a wink, her fingertips gently grazing Vi’s wrist as she lifted her hand away.
Vi could only nod, a cascade of warmth surging from her cheeks through her stomach and down to her toes.
The waltz of the flowers finally had to come to an end, much to Vi’s dismay. For a few moments the dance floor remained empty, and Vi wondered if that meant the party was over, saddened at the prospect as she didn’t want the party to end.
The sound of heavy chairs scraping against the marble floor broke her out of her musing, seeing Sugar Plum and Cavalier rising to their feet. Cavalier offered his elbow to Sugar Plum, and together they walked around the table and over to the dance floor.
“It’s customary for the hostess and her guest to grace the guests with a dance of their own,” said the Prince.
Vi nodded quietly, grateful the night wasn’t yet over.
Cavalier and Sugar Plum began to dance elegantly, soft melodious music accompanying them. Vi looked around, realizing that this entire time with all the different styles of music playing for each of the dances, she couldn’t seem to find any musicians anywhere.
She watched as Cavalier and Sugar Plum looked at each other with a fondness that Vi had last seen years ago, when her parents would dance in front of the Christmas tree. She felt her eyes well with unexpected tears, flooded with nostalgia and a longing for her parents she had long since buried.
Without a word, the Prince reached over to squeeze her hand again, and Vi was grateful for the comforting gesture without being prompted to talk about the feelings she was experiencing. There would be a time and a place to try and process her grief again, but for now she just wanted to enjoy the rest of her evening.
Cavalier and Sugar Plum’s dance concluded right as Vi was getting a hold of her silent tears, and to her surprise, the Prince stood up next.
Holding out her hand to Vi once more, the Prince tilted her head towards the dance floor.
“Wait, what?” Vi whispered, her mouth suddenly going dry.
The Prince smiled at her. “Traditionally, the royal member in attendance at the party is expected to perform the final dance, with a partner of their choosing.”
Vi swallowed. “Ok,” she replied, still not entirely sure what she was supposed to do.
The Prince leaned down to whisper in her ear. “And I choose you, my darling Knight.”
A fresh wave of emotion rolled through Vi at the words. This handsome, incredible, generous Prince wanted to dance with her. Vi, who was nobody from Zaun. Vi, who didn’t have any friends to call her own, and certainly had never had a girlfriend before, was just asked to dance by the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen.
Vi came back to her senses just enough to take the Prince’s outstretched hand and follow her down to the dance floor. It took all her mental acuity to try and remain calm, and not let the rollercoaster of feelings she was experiencing make her do something embarrassing.
The music was already beginning before Vi remembered she didn’t know how to dance. Her shock must’ve been written plainly on her face, because the Prince just smiled at her and muttered, “Don’t worry. I’ll lead.”
And with that, she took Vi’s hand and placed it on her shoulder, then rested her own hand on Vi’s hip. Their other hands remained clasped together, and as soon as the Prince deemed Vi stable, she began to lead them through the steps.
Vi was terrified of stepping on the Prince’s toes, but the girl was an expert at leading, and Vi soon found herself getting lost in the movement, twirling effortlessly across the smooth marble floor, any semblance of their rapt audience lost as Vi gazed into deep blue, beautiful eyes. It felt like they had been transported to another world where it was just the two of them, and a startling thought crossed Vi’s mind as the Prince pulled her just a tiny bit closer.
Is this what love feels like? Vi pondered, before finding herself staring at the Prince’s lips, wondering what would happen if she leaned a little closer…
Then, without warning, the music eased, and the Prince slowed their movements. Vi became aware of raucous applause coming from all around them as the partygoers celebrated their dance. Vi’s cheeks were aching from smiling, dampened only slightly by the sensation of the Prince releasing her hold.
Vi felt another set of hands on her shoulders, and she turned to find Sugar Plum beaming at her.
“You’re a wonderful dancer, Sir Violet,” she said kindly, pulling Vi into a tight hug. “I hope you can come to the next party!”
“I hope so too,” Vi replied, turning to accept a farewell handshake from Cavalier.
“Thanks for taking care of our Prince,” he said.
“Anytime,” Vi assured with a grin. Her eyes flitted over to the Prince, who was considering her with a look of fondness, but her brow was slightly wrinkled, as if she were trying to hide another, darker emotion.
The Prince took her hand again, their fingers entwining with familiar comfort.
“Come, Sir Violet,” she said quietly. “I’ll walk you home.”
The joy that Vi had just been basking in began to deflate at the realization that their magical night was finally coming to an end. She wondered if that was the source of the Prince’s more somber expression too, feeling a slight thrill at the notion that the Prince had been having just as good a time with Vi as Vi was with her.
Hand in hand they strode through the large wood doors, back onto the stone streets amid the still falling snow. They didn’t talk along the way back, instead walking as slowly as they dared, trying to enjoy every last second of their time together. But at some point they had to reach the bridge, and then they had to cross.
Upon nearing the end of the bridge, the Prince stopped, turning toward Vi and taking her other hand in hers and squeezing her fingers tightly.
“I know I already said thank you for saving me,” the Prince said quietly, her cheeks flushed in the moonlight. “But I wanted to thank you again. For coming to the party, and for being such a good sport. And for such a lovely dance.” She swallowed, and Vi thought she could see her blue eyes starting to shimmer.
“I truly do hope we can meet again someday,” she concluded, offering Vi a faint smile that was laced with emotion.
Vi took a deep breath, willing herself to be brave.
“Now it’s my turn to thank you, your majesty,” she began, squeezing the Prince’s hands. “This has turned out to be the best Christmas I’ve ever had. I got to help defeat the rat king, and I’m scared of rats so that’s really saying something.”
The Prince giggled, inspiring Vi to continue.
“Then I got to go to this absolutely outrageous party, with the most delicious treats I’ve ever had,” she added, pausing to wait until the Prince met her eye again.
“Finally, I got to dance with the most handsome Prince I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” she concluded, feeling a surge of glee as the Prince’s cheeks grew even more flushed.
“And I hope the Prince requires my knight services again sometime very soon.”
Vi knew the time had finally come for her to leave. Reluctantly, she started to slide her hands free, but then the Prince yanked her forward instead, pulling her into a tight hug.
“Goodnight, Sir Violet,” the Prince whispered, then did something Vi would never forget, and pressed her lips onto Vi’s cheek.
“Goodnight, Cupcake,” Vi whispered back, her voice thick with emotion.
Then the Prince stepped backward in a flash, releasing their hands and disappearing into the snow.
Vi stood frozen in place for a few more moments, reaching her hand up to touch her cheek where the Prince had kissed it. Her fingertips then met drops of wetness, as Vi noticed another wave of quiet tears streaming down her cheeks.
With one final glance over the bridge, Vi took a deep breath, turned around, and made her way back home.
As soon as she made it through the doors of the bar, a wave of exhaustion came over her. Suddenly too tired to make it up the stairs, she sat down in the booth next to the now extinguished fire, and lay her head in her hands. Just for a moment, she told herself as she drifted off. Then I’ll go upstairs.
*
The chime of the clock roused Vi from her slumber with a startling clang. She must have slept much longer than she meant to, as she counted seven strikes on the clock, indicating it was morning. She groaned into her elbow before lifting her head up, nearly jumping out of her skin as she realized there was someone hovering above her.
“Pow!” she squeaked, her voice raspy. “What the hell!”
Powder crossed her arms. “What do you mean, what the hell? Why are you asleep in the booth?”
Vi’s brow furrowed. “I was just resting my eyes for a moment after coming back from…” she trailed off, suddenly unsure she was ready to tell her sister about her adventures of the night before. Memories of the handsome Prince swooped into her stomach, the feeling of the warm kiss on her cheek still tingling on her skin.
“Back from what?” Powder prompted, still standing annoyingly close to Vi.
“Never mind,” Vi replied shortly. “Why are you down here so early?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
Powder grinned. “Stealing the best cinnamon bun from the kitchen before the boys eat them all,” she stated.
Vi smiled. “Good idea,” she said. “I’ll join you.”
She was still exhausted, but the promise of Vander’s famous cinnamon buns were enough incentive to help her sit up. She reached up to stretch out her cramping arms, and it was then she noticed that her left hand was still holding something.
Vi looked down, finding the nutcracker in her hand, intact and fixed from the night before.
“Wait…” she started, flooded with confusion that quickly transformed into sadness. It wasn’t real? she thought, her chest burning.
Powder began to giggle. “Hold on, you fell asleep holding onto a toy?” she jeered.
Vi was too overcome with emotion to offer one of her usual snappy comebacks, instead pulling the nutcracker close to her chest.
“Leave me alone,” she grumbled, standing up and making for the stairs with the intention of getting her bunk to be alone as soon as possible.
“Wait, what about the cinnamon buns?” Powder called after her, no longer teasing, surprised by Vi’s unusual display of melancholy.
“Help yourself,” Vi replied, not looking back. Powder didn’t say another word as Vi trudged up the stairs.
Vi fell onto her bunk, tucking the nutcracker under her arm, and sobbed into her pillow, hoping no one could hear.
*
At some point Vi fell asleep again, waking a few hours later to the sounds of her brothers arguing with Ekko. She blinked her eyes open, seeing the nutcracker still lifeless in her hands, and forced herself to swallow a fresh wave of tears.
She tucked the nutcracker gently under her pillow for safekeeping, then went to the bathroom to splash water on her face. Once she deemed herself presentable enough to face her family, she thumped her way down the stairs.
As she reached the bar, the boys were playing with their toy soldiers near the tree, while Powder was working diligently on repairing the dolls. Her sister looked up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and looked at Vi with a concerned expression, but thankfully offered no comments on their earlier interaction.
Vi slinked over to the bar, pulling herself onto one of the barstools and resting her chin on her hands.
Vander, who was polishing glasses behind the bar, raised an eyebrow at her.
“Rough night?” he asked, his tone facetious, not having any reason to know what Vi had been through.
“You have no idea,” Vi offered in return, before staring down at the bar with a vacant expression.
She heard Vander step away, then the sound of liquid being poured into a glass, followed by the thunk of the glass landing in front of her.
Vi looked up, seeing a worn mug filled with brown liquid on the counter.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Coffee,” Vander replied with a reassuring smile. “I think you’re about old enough now.”
Grateful for the gesture, Vi reached forward, her fingertips curling around the warm mug. She took a careful sip, willing her face to remain neutral. It tasted just as terrible as the time she’d tried it before, the bitter flavor now worsened by the knowledge that it was nowhere near as good as the coffee she’d tasted last night
In my dream, Vi reminded herself. Because it was only a dream.
She was excused from having to stomach more terrible coffee by the sound of the front door opening.
“Uncle Benzo is back!” she heard Mylo yell, and Vander called out to his friend.
“Anything interesting to report?” he asked, and Vi remembered that Benzo always snuck up to Piltover on Christmas morning to see if he could find any discarded goods near the border.
“No, not particularly,” he stated with a sigh. “It did snow up there last night though. The bridges are covered, so I didn’t make it far.”
Vi’s head snapped up. “Snow?” she asked, a hint of hope in her voice.
Benzo looked over at her curiously. “Yeah,” he replied. “And a lot more than I’ve seen in a long time,” he added.
Not thinking twice, Vi leapt off her barstool and ran upstairs, leaving her family stunned in her wake. She threw on her favorite jeans, boots, and red jacket before jumping in the bathroom, using some water to try and brush her wild pink hair off of her face.
She flew back down the stairs again, ignoring the various concerned comments from her family members, and ran out the door.
The pathway up and out of the Lanes and towards the bridge was one that felt even more familiar now. She didn’t encounter many people as she ran, most folks likely spending the late morning celebrating the holiday with their families.
Needing to pause a few times to catch her breath, Vi finally reached the bridge she had crossed in her dream. Swallowing the simmering tendrils of fear she’d harbored for the majority of her childhood, Vi began to cross.
She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Didn’t know if she’d make it ten steps, halfway across, or the full distance. She just had an inexplicable notion to visit the place in her dream where the magic had really begun. The place where she’d tasted snowflakes on her tongue, where the Prince had taken her hand for the first time. Where she’d kissed Vi’s cheek farewell.
Vi made it about a third of the way across before she stopped herself.
“What am I doing?” she asked herself, reaching up to press her palms into her eyes. “This is insane!”
She began to pace back and forth, dragging her feet through the snow, leaving behind a painting that expressed her deepest anxieties.
“It was just a dream,” she told herself, ready to repeat the truth over and over until she got over it. “Only a dream.”
Tears pricked in her eyes again, but she willed them back, trying to remember how to turn off her feelings once more.
After a few more minutes of agonized pacing, another voice broke through the gentle morning wind. The voice of a girl, with a Piltie accent, that sounded familiar and different all at once.
Suddenly afraid of what she might find, Vi froze, and the voice called out again.
“Hello,” the girl’s voice called. “Are you alright?”
Slowly, Vi turned around, and the sight before her took her breath away.
It was her. The resemblance wasn’t exact, but it was close enough. The girl was about her age, with the same sleek dark hair, high cheekbones, and long legs as the Prince. She wasn’t wearing a uniform, instead now clad in dark jeans and a fluffy white coat.
But it was her eyes that were unmistakable. The same disarmingly deep blue that Vi had spent the entire night before getting lost in.
Vi didn’t know what sort of Christmas spirit had reached out from wherever they resided in the universe to make this meeting happen, but she thanked them profusely.
“I’m alright now,” Vi replied with a smile, feeling empowered with a confidence she’d never experienced before.
To her delight, the girl smiled back, revealing the tiniest gap between her front teeth, which Vi found made her even more beautiful, if that was possible.
“What brings you to the bridge on Christmas?” the girl asked, her hands stuffed into her pockets and chin tucked into her chest.
Vi shrugged. “Wanted to see the snow. It doesn’t usually reach down where I live.”
The girl nodded, looking down at her feet sheepishly.
“What about you?” Vi prompted. “It’s not often we get a Piltie on our half of the bridge.”
The girl looked up at her, eyes wide, and Vi suddenly worried she’d scared the girl.
“Don’t worry,” she added quickly, offering a reassuring smile. “This area of Zaun is safe.”
She must seem really trustworthy, because the nervousness on the girl’s face eased up considerably.
Vi tried to break the ice further. “I’m Vi,” she said, reaching her hand forward.
“Caitlyn,” the girl replied, shaking her hand firmly. Her fingers were long and delicate, just like the Prince’s. Vi had to remind herself that she was speaking with a real, living, breathing human now, and to stop making comparisons to the girl from her dream.
“Caitlyn,” Vi repeated. “That’s a lovely name.”
It was hard to tell, but Vi could’ve sworn the girl blushed slightly.
“Vi’s a lovely name too,” Caitlyn replied. “Is it short for anything?”
Vi felt herself blush a little too. “Violet. It’s short for Violet.”
Caitlyn smiled even wider. “Violets are my favorite flower, you know.”
Her cheeks heating up even further, it was Vi’s turn to look down at the ground, suddenly very interested in a piece of ice near her toe.
After a moment Vi looked up again, seeing Caitlyn watching her intently, as if trying to study her.
“You never answered my question,” Vi reminded her. “What brings you to the bridge?”
Caitlyn shook her head slightly. “You’re going to think it’s dumb,” she said.
Vi chuckled. If only she knew the real reason I’m here, she thought.
“Try me, Cupcake,” she said without thinking.
Caitlyn’s eyes met hers, widened with shock at the sudden nickname.
“Sorry,” Vi stammered, trying to backpedal. “It’s just…you seem sweet. You know, like a cupcake.”
To her relief, Caitlyn just giggled before regaining her composure.
“I love cupcakes, actually. There’s a great bakery just on the other side of this bridge that makes the best ones in Piltover,” she said.
Vi now knew where the present from her brothers had come from. “I’ve tried them, believe it or not. The chocolate ones are delicious.”
Caitlyn smiled. “I’m partial to the strawberry myself,” she added.
“Noted,” Vi replied. “I’ll take that into consideration next time I’m going cupcake shopping.”
They both laughed before falling into a mildly awkward silence.
“You still haven’t told me why you’re here,” Vi prodded gently.
Caitlyn sighed, stepping to the side to lean her arms on the bridge’s railing. Vi joined her, their elbows nearly touching.
“This is going to sound incredibly entitled of me,” she warned. “I’m not proud of it.”
“It’s alright,” Vi reassured. “I promise I won’t tease you. Maybe.” She jostled Caitlyn with her elbow, making the girl giggle again, a sound that was rapidly becoming Vi’s favorite.
Caitlyn sighed, then began her story. “Over the Thanksgiving holiday, my parents gifted me this beautifully hand crafted nutcracker. They’re a traditional art form in Piltover, with some of the highest quality ones selling for considerable amounts of money. My parents paid the most highly regarded carver in Piltover to create one that looked just like me.”
Vi felt her eyes widening, realizing where this story was going. Once again, she thanked the Christmas spirits that had put her on this path.
“It was a stunning piece of craftsmanship, truly,” Caitlyn continued. “But I had just been coming off a fierce argument with my mother. She wants to send me to prep school in Demacia, so I can begin my formal education that will lead me towards becoming a Councilor just like her one day.”
Vi chuckled. “Lemme guess, you want to forge your own path?”
Caitlyn nodded. “I’m tired of my entire life being mapped out for me. I just want to make my own decisions, you know? Choose the life I want without so much family pressure.”
“I understand,” Vi offered consolingly. They may come from different backgrounds, but Vi was beginning to realize she and Caitlyn had more in common than she would have expected.
“Another argument with my mother ensued. I accused her of trying to bribe me into agreeing to the prep school with expensive gifts. She denied it, but I didn’t believe her. She’d done this before.”
Caitlyn took a deep breath. “I’ve already had a hard enough time making friends here, as it is. I just have Jayce, who’s basically my older brother, and his girlfriend Mel. I couldn’t fathom living in an entirely new country by myself, with no friends or family close by,” she continued, staring down at her hands and twiddling her thumbs.
“So in a fit of anger, I ran outside and threw the nutcracker into the storm sewer. My mother was furious, outraged that I could have the audacity to throw something that precious in the garbage. And I have a feeling she meant that in more ways than one.”
Vi could tell she was struggling with the story, and offered to help her finish it.
“The storm sewers all lead to Zaun,” Vi stated.
Caitlyn glanced sideways at her, and nodded.
“This Christmas morning was much more somber than it has been in the past. I’m still not willing to budge on the prep school, but I felt terribly about throwing away something so special. I thought…well I supposed I didn’t think it through very well but I thought if I tried to come down here, I might be able to find it. And mend relations with my mother.”
She took another deep breath in resignation. “But now that I’m nearly here I realize how silly that idea was. I’ve never been to Zaun before, how could I possibly know where to look? And even beyond that, I came alone, which I now understand is an utterly terrible idea.”
Caitlyn looked back out over the fog, her shoulders hunched in defeat.
Vi chuckled to herself once again, unable to believe her luck. Her day yesterday started out as yet another unremarkable holiday, before turning into the best Christmas of her life, only for that to be nothing but a dream, capped off now by a fateful encounter with the girl that had indirectly inspired her adventure from the night before.
Feeling somewhat smug, Vi spoke.
“You know, it’s awful lucky you ran into me,” she said.
Caitlyn turned towards her with an eyebrow raised.
“Oh yeah?” she replied with a hint of sass. “And why’s that?”
Vi smiled. “It just so happens that you’ve encountered an expert on finding random lost objects in Zaun. Given, as you may have guessed, that I’m from Zaun.”
“Are you now?” Caitlyn replied, a hint of mischief in her voice. “I suppose you could say I got very lucky, then.”
She jostled Vi with her elbow and gave her a wink, making Vi’s stomach fill with butterflies.
Caitlyn pushed herself off the railing and turned towards Vi, her shyness beginning to fall away, a look of determination on her face.
“So, where do we start?” she asked.
Vi smiled. “I have an idea,” she replied. “And a story to tell you along the way.”
Caitlyn smiled back at her, and Vi felt a surge of Christmas magic she had long since thought she’d outgrown.
Vi offered her hand to Caitlyn. “Follow me,” she said. “Let me show you my kingdom.”