Archive of Our Own ^beta

The marketplace was huge, crowded, loud, and colorful. It was easy to get lost in, easy to vanish in, and that was usually a good thing. Vi and her siblings expelled at becoming part of the wave of people, letting the crush of activity carry them where they needed to go like surfers on a wave. Using it to hide themselves like wary foxes if they felt threatened or simply disappearing into it, slipping out the other side below ground or above heads, was second nature.

None of them were afraid of the masses of people that were in the lanes or even on the Promenade, closer to Piltover, or in the markets. Crowds were safety and home and shelter. Noise was normal. It was silence and alone that they couldn’t stand.

 (And, years and years after this story is done, when Vi is seventeen- eighteen- nineteen and she is in a cell miles below the world and there is no sound but her own grunts as she hits the wall, her own sobs, her own breathing, she will struggle with this part more than any of the rest of it. More than the fists and the unfairness and the hunger and exhaustion and cold; it is the alone that almost breaks her. She invites the beatings, the interrogations, the hatred, because at least then she isn’t alone .)

So when they were sent there for Vander, or just went up because there was nothing better to do with their day, they were comfortable and at ease in their element.  She could see them; they were all careful to never be too far away from one another. 

While there was safety in being able to vanish into the crowd, there was more in staying together; you scattered when you needed to but you were stronger as a group. Mylo was ‘haggling’ over some little something or other a few stalls down; Claggor was talking to a group of kids they knew and were on relatively good terms with from near the docks. 

And Powder, of course, was right in her shadow, chattering away, holding her hand.  She’d hit the age where that was something to be embarrassed about most of the time, but Powder was an affectionate kid and tended to forget she was ‘too old’ to hold Vi’s hand very, very often.  Vi tightened her grip on the smaller hand in hers with a fond smile.  Powder, skipping beside her, chattering away happily, was one of her favorite sounds.

(And, years later, oh , how she will  miss it, and dream of it, and wish for just one more day of hearing her sister laugh and sing and hum and giggle.)

“-and Ekko and I are gonna go down and see what we can scavenge!”

“I thought Vander said you guys weren’t supposed to go down to the junk yard?” She turned her attention from her baby sister to study a stall near her;  she didn’t fully notice when Powder’s hand slipped from her own.

“Yeah, but only because we kept getting covered in oil and I promised we’d stay clean.”

“Hey, Powder! Come look at this!”  It was Mylo’s voice, and Vi watched with half an eye and half an ear as her little sister trotted over to see whatever it was her brothers wanted to show her. Her own attention remained on the stall she’d been inspecting; a moment later,though, it turned to the grumbling in her stomach.

“Hey, anyone else starving?” She called, taking her leave of the stall and turning to where her siblings were. “We’ve been out here all day.”

“Someone feed her!” Mylo crowed, playfully, making the sign of the cross at Vi. “Or else she’ll transform and destroy us all!”

“I’ll destroy you, you little rat-”  She looped him into a headlock and wrestled him downward until he begged for mercy and Claggor pulled him free, hissing and spitting the entire way like an offended cat.

“I told you! Her hunger will destroy us all!” Mylo danced lightly away from Vi’s swing, hiding behind Claggor again, who rolled his eyes.

“Knock it off, you guys. I’m hungry, too.”

“You’re always hungry-”

“Mylo.”  Vi warned, half heartedly, with an eyeroll. “Don’t be a dick.” She brushed a stray hair behind her ear, eyes glancing over her boys. “Pow, what about you, are you-”

Freeze.

The air in the vicinity of the three of them abruptly went very, very cold as Vi raised her eyes back to Mylo.

“My.” She said, calm, too calm, in that way she had of doing when she was bursting with rage. “Where is Powder?”

“What? Why is it my job to know?”

“You called her over.” Vi’s jaw set, and she took a step closer; there was nothing playful in her body language now.  “You were talking to her a second ago, Mylo.”

“So was Claggor! Why’s it always me -”

“Look I don’t care and I’m not getting into it right now. Where is my sister ?”

They could see it now; fear behind the anger. Vi had always been half parent to Powder, and this was a mother who’s daughter had vanished into the crowd; all momma bear instincts go and the energy surging from her so volatile you could probably run the Drop off of her for a month.

They needed to be very, very careful if they wanted to keep all the bits about themselves they enjoyed right now, and the look they shared said they both knew it.

“Look, Powder’s a smart kid. She’s fine. I bet she just- ran off to look at some junk vendor.” Mylo tried, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We’ll find her, Vi.” Claggor put a hand on Vi’s shoulder and was shrugged off immediately.

“You’d better hope we do.” She shot back. “Look, split up. She was talking about going to the junkyard with Ekko, so maybe she bumped into him somewhere.”

“You know she’ll probably turn up, right? If we just headed….home…” Mylo’s voice trailed off as Vi pinned him with her stare like a bug beneath her boot; he shrank back further and further, chuckling like a nervous hyena.

“What was that, My?”

“Iiiii said we should. I’ll. Go see if I catch them on their way to the junkyard?”

“Good! Smart boy.” She rolled her eyes at him, and Claggor swatted him upside the head before he could sass off and get himself punched.  She let this one go, though, turning on her heel and making her way through the crowd in search of her rogue little sister.

_____________________________________________________ ____________________________

It wasn’t unusual for Powder to go rogue, actually. She had a short attention span and anything interesting could catch her eye and lead her away; Vi had called her ‘bluebird’ since she was a little girl but Claggor often joked they should change it to magpie . Once they’d lost her for an hour just outside the Drop because she’d found a discarded box of tools and toy parts and was at the bottom of it like a whump in a garbage can.

Still, by the time it was nearly dark and the familiar, comforting crowds had begun to thin out, Vi’s hair was sticking up in places from the amount of times she’d run her hands through it. 

“You look like a goat attacked you.” Mylo drawled, and for the second time, Claggor had to leap between them to save his face.

“Vi, calm down. Mylo, why- why are you like this ?”

Mylo paused, a moment of true, honest self-reflection on his face.

Than he shrugged, offered a stupid grin, and stole an apple from a stall they passed.  “Ah, I’m loveable. You love me.”

Claggor couldn’t protect him this time.


They had searched everywhere Powder was likely to be. She had checked the docks, the junkyard, back near the Drop. Claggor could see the rising alarm in Vi; the way she kept chewing her lip, the way her hand clenched and unclenched, the way her jaw worked.

“We could get Vander-”

“No. We’re not telling Vander we lost Powder.”  She flopped down onto a step, hand running over her mouth, leg jiggling like someone had wound her up and held her in place.

“Vi, I-” And then , before Claggor could continue, Vi heard it.

Singing.

More importantly, a little girl singing. More importantly stiil- Powder. That was Powder . She was singing at the top of her lungs, giggling up a storm. 

“Pow!” Vi launched upwards, racing in the direction of her sister’s voice.  They followed her as she ran; as they got closer, they could hear other voices singing with her.

Coming from Babette’s .

“Oh my God.” Mylo laughed out. “Now there’s something she might be able to not screw up, being a-”

“ Say another word Mylo !”

“-good friend and better sister!”

Claggor barked a laugh as they ran, skidding around the corner to find Powder, dancing hand in hand with a young man; well, flailing playfully, less dancing, but the idea was there. They were belting off-key, while a few of Babette’s girls clapped and stomped in time.

“Soon may the Wellerman come

To bring us sugar and tea and rum

One day, when the tonguing is done

We'll take our leave and go-Vi!”

Powder broke free, running over to her big sister, slamming into her and getting caught effortlessly, the impact spinning both girls around.

“God, Powder, what the hell have I told you? Where did you go, why did you just take off-”

“You don’t expect to know where Mylo and Claggor are all the time-”

“Mylo and Claggor are older and bigger- what were you even thinking why were you in Babette’s-”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare anyone, I just- one of the girls had this cool watch on her waist, and I wanted to see how it worked-”

“I’m sorry, Violet, I didn’t know you were looking for her.” Babette’s calm voice broke through the chaos of Powder’s babbling.

“Vi.” The older sister corrected, harshly, passing Claggor Powder. She cuddled into his chest, Mylo punching her lightly in the shoulder with a harsh “Good going, Powder, she was a monster to deal with-”

“You brought it on yourself, Mylo.” Claggor rumbled, with a fond roll of his eyes.

“-keep her entertained.” Babette was saying, hands up in a placating way. “If I’d known you didn’t know where she was I would have-now, you put that face away right now. This girl and her temper-”

“Sorry, ma’am.”  Claggor offered, Powder tucked under his arm. “Thank you for keeping an eye on her for us. Ma’am.”

“You’re gonna pass out, if you get any more blood in your face.” Vi muttered at him, brushing past and reaching her hand out for Powder. “Let’s just go home. Thanks, Babette. You and I are going to have words, Pow-”

The two boys followed after Vi and Powder, Vi scolding her as they moved and Powder’s ‘sorry, Vi. Sorry, Vi!”s echoed through the darkness.

What they couldn’t know was how Vi’s heart was racing, how tight her grip on Powder’s hand was, how it wasn’t an older sister leading her younger back home but a mother, a sister, a care taker suddenly able to breathe again. She was safe. She was fine, and safe, and it had all been a big misunderstanding.

They were going home and Powder would be tucked in safe and sound. She’d found her baby sister and her anger, ready to ignite at the smallest flash and burning hot and readily to cover up and bolster any other emotion had turned into a relief so deep and so thick that she felt her head spin with it.

She’d never felt panic like that before; never really worried about Powder like that before. She always knew where she was, where to predict her being.

“Someone’s growing up, huh?” Claggor, quietly, with a tiny smile, coming up on her left. She glanced down at where Powder was now dancing along, backwards, doing some silly, playful full body shimmy dance-walk with Mylo.

“None of you will ever grow up.”  She retorted, half-laughing, but it faded as she turned her attention front again.

“Yeah, but she’s growing up. Not your little shadow anymore all the time.” 

She laughed softly, more a bitter-sweet chuff now, slinging an arm around Claggor’s shoulders absently. My and Powder had raced ahead now; she was pretty sure they were racing? Or something? Powder was half on Mylo’s back and she wasn’t sure what the hell they were trying to accomplish there.

“She turns eleven soon. Yesterday she was eight.”

Claggor laughed, returning the arm. “Yeah, yeah. But she’s gonna be just fine, Vi. You did good.”

Vi turned the color of her hair, mumbled something that sounded like shut up and kept walking.

(Years later, after this story is done, seated in the bedroom of the home she and her wife call their own. listening to Caitlyn hum carols happily and staring staring staring at the tiny wrapped box sitting on the windowsill, in paper painted with blue and pink graffiti with a smile that is equal parts joy and pain, Vi thinks back to that day, that sentence, and she wonders. She hopes. In the warmth of the fire and the warmth of love that took so, so long to feel again, she dares hope.

You did good.

She’s gonna be just fine.)