Chapter Text
It was a no-brainer to pick the same diner they went to before, and this time they had the advantage of knowing expectations going in. No more dancing around the attraction they felt when they first met that one fateful afternoon. Vi could finally crack that shell a little bit and get to know who Caitlyn was outside of the music. It wasn’t just about the band anymore. It was something else entirely. The band was still everything to her, but how could she focus on that alone when every time Caitlyn sang, she had Vi in an absolute trance.
Caitlyn was a siren calling to Vi, and she would willingly swim out to drown in that voice.
While Vi had her coffee in front of her, Caitlyn had opted for a tea with some honey and a glass of water, with a passing comment about taking care of her voice when she ordered. It had Vi second-guessing her order.
“So, what do you do besides singing? You mentioned hunting. What’s that like? How’d you even get into that?” Vi asked, leaning forward on the table. What Pilties did was a complete mystery to her. She figured they all just sat around discussing politics and the weather or something. Drowning in the utter dullness of small talk.
Caitlyn looked up from the little whirlpool she’d created in her cup of tea as she stirred the honey in. “You want to know about hunting?”
Vi shook her head. “I want to know about you. You don’t strike me as the kind of woman to go out in the woods with a bow.”
She wasn’t sure whether to feel confused by the small chuckle out of Caitlyn or to smile that she got her to laugh.
“Rifle, actually. I can hunt with a bow, but I prefer my rifle.” She raised her mug to her lips, a practiced delicacy in her movements.
Vi tried to imagine Caitlyn with a rifle, firing at a target in the distance, just as poised and precise as she was when she sang. It was quite the sight in her head. “You any good?”
“I’ve been shooting since I was a little girl. I’m more than good.”
Vi imagined that if anyone else had asked her that, the tone would have been far more offended. But Caitlyn said it so calmly that it was less of a brag and more a statement of fact.
“Can I watch you shoot sometime?” The words came out with a quickness that not even Vi could hide.
Caitlyn lowered her mug, cool eyes focused on Vi in silence for a long moment. Oh, what Vi would give to know what she was thinking in that moment.
“I’ll tell you what, Vi. You can come with me to a firing range.” She paused, but before Vi could interject, she continued, “If you show me how you do it.”
Vi leaned back, her scarred brow arching in question. Pulling one leg up to rest on the seat, an arm slung over her knee, she tried to maintain a sense of cool while trying to figure out what the hell Caitlyn was even asking. “How do I do what?”
Caitlyn gestured at her own neck, placing her fingers and thumb on either side of the column of her throat. “That growl, the screaming. You make it look so effortless, but I don’t know how you do it.” It was her turn to lean forward on the table, and the excitement began to build, first in her eyes and then reaching her voice. “I know so many vocal techniques and tricks, I’ve had amazing instructors and mentors, but they don’t teach that kind of thing at the Conservatory.”
It was something Vi had noticed about Caitlyn. She could be awkward, terribly so, but when something interested her, she got this excitement that all the proper manners in the world couldn’t tuck away. She saw it whenever Caitlyn was trying to dissect a song, the way she would sway and get lost in it, the way she would have a little bounce to her step on the way to the piano to play out her ideas on the keys. “You want to know how I growl?”
She gave an enthusiastic head nod. “I want to know how it works. Your voice doesn’t sound strained at all after practice.”
Well, she had her there. Vi knew how to distress her voice without hurting her throat at all. “I’m sure it’s the same way you learned how to. Practice! But I’ll show you. Now, I still want to know more about you outside of the music.” It always came back to that, but tonight, she didn’t want to know about Caitlyn the opera singer; she wanted to know about Caitlyn, the gorgeous young woman sat across from her.
“Sorry,” Caitlyn muttered, quickly taking another sip of her tea.
“Hey, don’t apologize. We’re music lovers, so it’s hard not to get back on that topic.” Vi took a long sip of her coffee, which was already starting to grow cold. But the silence lasted a little longer this time. Vi suddenly realized she wasn’t sure what else to ask her. She knew she sang, she knew she shot. Where did she go from here?
“So, what does a girl from Piltover do in her spare time besides sing and hunt in the woods?” Nearly immediately, she wanted to slap herself against her forehead. Why are you so bad at this? It felt like that small talk she imagined most Pilties did when they had nothing to say.
“Oh.” Was all Caitlyn replied.
Vi wasn’t sure she liked the way that Oh sounded.
“I mostly read or go for walks. I like looking at the gardens, especially the violets when they’re in bloom. There’s something calming about being surrounded by nature, even if it’s perfectly maintained in a public park or a private garden.”
Books and violets? Oh, she could work with that.”Violets, huh?” She leaned back in again. “What if I told you Vi was short for Violet?” As if she needed to give Caitlyn any more reason to like her. But she quickly moved to the next thing. “What kind of books do you read? I like fantasy. Anything I can escape from Zaun with for a few hours and go to some strange world.”
Caitlyn seemed to soften more at that. “Is it really?” An amused smile, subtle though it may be, slipped onto her lips as she brought the mug back to her face and let the steam warm her sinuses. “I like mysteries myself. Anything that lets me put my mind to work to solve a puzzle or figure out a crime before the protagonist does. And I usually do.”
Vi chuckled. “You’re all kinds of smart, aren’t you?”
“My mother tends to think so.”
Vi looked down. What would Felicia have thought of Caitlyn? It’s been years, but she still misses her; she clung to her voice, even as the memories faded with the years.
“What of you? What do you do when you aren’t writing music?”
Vi wasn’t expecting Caitlyn to inquire back. Caitlyn was the mystery to unwrap, not her! She wasn’t prepared for this at all. “Uh, boxing?”
“Boxing? The muscles suddenly make sense. Is that how you got the scars?” Caitlyn seemed genuinely amused by that revelation. She could work with that.
Vi nodded. “Yeah, this one guy, real piece of work. He was messing with Pow, so I showed him what for. He got a few knocks in, but I sent him crawling back to the rock he crawled out from under.” Unlike Caitlyn, Vi was bragging.
“And you still have all your teeth.” Caitlyn’s tone was light, bordering on a low giggle.
She flashed a bright smile, a full set of teeth on grand display for Caitlyn. “Surprisingly, yeah. Boxing is a little less a hobby, though. Zaun can be tough; you gotta know how to defend yourself.”
“I made it through all right,” Caitlyn countered.
Pink hair swayed from side to side as Vi shook her head. “Because you were with me and in some of the safer parts of Zaun. Alone, they would try to take you for what you’re worth. I mean, if they knew you were an expert marksman, they may back off, but you kind of scream money.”
It was Caitlyn’s turn to take a vested interest in the amber of her drink—the differences between their worlds suddenly felt heavy on their shoulders.
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Growing up in Zaun, a lot of times, you stay in survival mode. It was weird not feeling like I had to look over my shoulder every few seconds when I was topside.” She sighed, emptying another sugar packet into her coffee. “I’m not trying to scare you off or anything. Zaun isn’t all bad. All my other favorite people are from there. Dad made it work. And you saw how nice the others were at the show. We’re just trying to make do with what we got. Most of us aren’t aiming to hurt anyone.”
The silence grew louder. Vi listened as Caitlyn exhaled through her nose, those electric eyes studying her scarred features.
“I never had to worry about those things growing up.” Caitlyn’s voice was almost too soft.
“I’m not looking for pity.”
Caitlyn’s lips formed a hard line. “And I wasn’t offering it. You don’t strike me as someone who would take it even if it was. You let me into your world, I’ve rarely ventured outside of Piltover, and when I have, it was to see family in Ionia. Nothing more. I had no idea what Zaun was like outside of stories, and it turns out many of them are exaggerated. I want to see more of it. I want to see it with you. Not as some tourist, either. I want—”
“A break,” Vi interjected.
“Pardon?”
A bandaged hand reached across the table, palm facing upwards. “You want a break from your routine, don’t you? You went into the pit when I warned you about it. You had no hesitation in dressing differently; you want something different. Something Piltover can’t give you.”
“I suppose—” Caitlyn started, taking the hand that was offered.
“You do. This is a mystery I can figure out. You live one way all your life, you want to know what else is out there. Beyond the books and fairytales. Well, Cupcake, I can be your ticket out. Your break. You wanna see Zaun? You won’t like a lot of it, but I can show you.” She just hoped they both knew what they were getting into.
“I want to see your life. Your everyday routine. I want to know what makes Violet Vi.” Caitlyn was almost pleading, if such a thing was possible for her.
“Damn, princess, you have me convinced.” Vi smirked at the brief sneer Caitlyn made at the name princess. “But only because you’re an alright singer.”
Caitlyn straightened her back, a brief air of well-earned indignation and pride washing over her. “I’m an excellent singer.”
The door to Grayson’s office had a spot on the wood that was more worn than the rest of it. Years of students knocking against the same spot over and over again, causing the varnish to wear away. She had taught at the conservatory for decades now, it had come to a surprise to everyone when she announced she was retiring when this senior class graduated. Caitlyn was grateful that she at least got to see her through her final year at school.
Her fist rapped against that familiar pale wood, waiting a few moments until she heard the low rasp of the woman’s voice from the other side of the door.
“Come in.”
Caitlyn opened the door, the office had become something of a second home. Grayson was more than her favorite professor; she was a long-time family friend and a second mother to her when she felt she couldn’t go to her own mom. Like Caitlyn, Grayson was a contralto, a rich, low voice that had unfortunately lost its strength over the years. She could still hit the notes, but holding it had become an issue. But Grayson never let it get her down, or at least, she never let it show.
Those who can’t do, teach, she would joke, though that adage had broken Caitlyn’s heart. She had always loved the sound of Grayson singing.
“Are you busy?” Caitlyn asked, slipping into the office and slinging her coat over the back of the chair that sat in front of the old desk. The thing looked like it had been there longer than Grayson had, but it was well-maintained for its age.
“Not at all, have a seat.” Her large hand stretched out before her. Despite her position in the school, Grayson looked like she had been a fighter in a previous life, an imposing stature, wide shoulders, but a kind warmth to her voice, and a welcoming smile. There wasn’t a student who didn’t like her, she was fair but stern, precise in her instructions. “What bothers you, Young Kiramman?”
Young Kiramman, a nickname she’d had for her since she was a small child. And because she had known her for so long, of course she knew when something weighed on Caitlyn.
“There’s this girl—” she started, but Grayson’s smile had immediately disarmed her.
“And you don’t want to tell your mother.”
Caitlyn shook her head. “She’s from Zaun, which doesn’t matter to me, but mom and her position… I don’t think she’d approve.”
Grayson tapped her chin, amusement wearing deep grooves into her weathered face. “Tell me, would you see her anyway? Even if you knew your mother would disapprove?”
Caitlyn glanced off to the side.
“I see.” Grayson read her like a book. After a long pause, she grabbed two glasses from her cabinet and a carafe of water, filling them both. She passed a glass to Caitlyn. “How did you meet her?”
Caitlyn nodded, taking the glass and a long sip before speaking. Her throat felt suddenly dry. “She stumbled into the auditorium while looking for her little sister. I guess I was singing quite loudly. She stayed to hear me sing.”
Grayson nodded again. “So her sister is a student?”
“Not yet, she’s a hopeful. She wants to join the music production program,” Caitlyn corrected.
“From the sounds of it, she liked your voice.”
Caitlyn couldn’t hide her smile if she tried. “I think she fell in love right there and then. She’s a singer too. A metal singer, she has a band in Zaun. You should hear the way she growls on the mic, I’m fascinated by how she does it.”
That garnered a chuckle from Grayson. “Do you think I could be a metal singer? My voice is gravely enough for it.” How did she always know how to keep Caitlyn from getting too deep into her own head?
“She wanted me to join her band, and… I may have said yes.” Caitlyn straightened herself in her seat, certain that if Powder were here, she’d comment on that. “Thing is, our voices work really well off each other. I think I love metal. I’ve been listening to it more recently, breaking down the scales and time signatures; there are so many elements of classical music hidden behind the distortion.”
Grayson rotated her chair until she was facing Caitlyn directly. “Many genres of music have a basis in other older styles, but you already knew that. Is this truly about Cassandra, Caitlyn? Or is there something else that weighs on you?”
Nothing got past Grayson’s eagle eye.
“I’m worried what will happen if she finds out who I really am. She just knows me as Caitlyn, the Conservatory Senior majoring in Opera. She doesn’t know me as the heir to the Kiramman name and fortune. The councilor’s daughter. She already knows I’m rich and worries that if I were caught in the wrong part of Zaun, I would be attacked. But now that I’m in the band, I don’t know how to tell her.” She took a deep breath in, holding it in her chest for a moment before speaking again. “And her little sister found out already. She doesn’t like me; she’s kind of blackmailing me. Nothing I can’t handle, but now I’m worried if I wait too long to tell her who I really am, that she’s going to hate me and want nothing to do with me.”
Grayson nodded solemnly. “And you like her.”
“Yes.”
“You’re in love.” It was said so matter-of-factly.
Caitlyn felt her heart jump into her throat; if it were even possible, she would have jolted even straighter in her chair. “Love is a strong conclusion to jump to!”
“Caitlyn, you’ve had flings in the past; you’ve never worried like this about them. You want her to like you, but you sound like you’re trying to keep her at arm’s length. Are you afraid that if she knows who you are, she’ll hate you?” Gods dammit, Grayson knew her too well.
She said nothing.
“What do you think you should do?” the older woman finally asked.
Suddenly, Caitlyn was a little girl again, under scrutiny from her tutors. Only, this was Grayson, and somehow that made it worse.
“I should tell her.”
Grayson nodded again. “When?”
That was the rub. When. If she told Vi, she would be revealing the most guarded secret she had. She would lose that layer of protection that kept her heart safe. There were no expectations of being a Kiramman with her, she could just be Caitlyn, and that was all she ever wanted. Why couldn’t she just trust that Vi wouldn’t treat her like all the other girls did?
“I don’t know! She’s the one girl who isn’t expecting me to be a Kiramman. It’s freeing. I get to be myself, unapologetically. The instant someone knows who my mother is, the expectations change. I stop being Caitlyn, I start being the Kiramman girl. I don’t have to be that with her.” That sense of decorum slipped, but Grayson was used to this. Caitlyn was headstrong, and sometimes it got to be more than her poise could hide.
Grayson stood, walking to the window to stare at the lightly clouded sky that barely peered over the walls of the Conservatory. “Do you truly think she would expect you to be someone else once she knows that?”
“Everyone else does,” Caitlyn uttered.
A low hum came from the woman. “She doesn’t sound like everyone else. You’ve decided how she will react before you even give her the chance to. That seems hardly fair.”
Grayson was right. Gods dammit, she was right.
“You find the chance to tell her, and just be honest. The longer you wait, the more you’re going to hurt her. If you really like this girl, you owe her that, at least.”
“Vi,” Caitlyn interjected. “Her name is Vi.”
Grayson turned, a smile on her face as she regarded Caitlyn. “Vi. Well then, why don’t you tell me when her band is playing next? I think I’d like to go to my first metal show. Might as well see what kind of trouble my favorite student is getting into.”