Work Text:
Viktor readied himself at the mirror: a decent tie, a pressed vest. He had brushed his hair – though he wasn’t sure anyone would notice either way. He was rarely noticed at all. But as assistant to the Dean, he was required to attend the annual donor event. Administration work at the Academy wasn’t always paperwork and menial errands. There were rare occasions when the faculty saw the light of day.
He found no enjoyment from the mingling, neither the stench of money, nor the pitiful glances whenever mentions of his humble beginnings surfaced. His poor origins made for excellent public relations. Still, he gathered a smile and nursed a glass of champagne as he gave prospective donors rehearsed answers regarding current Academy projects.
There was a reason he was an administrative assistant and not in public relations.
He preferred the company of his own projects, his own inventions and endeavours.
No one asked about them.
Derek, the head of the Public Relations department had been tasked with finding wealthy prospective donors to invite to the event. From what Viktor had heard, this year Derek had found only one. Heimerdinger wasn’t happy about it. Though the word was, the single donor he found was willing to give more than twice what was projected from all the other donors combined.
Viktor had difficulty believing it. Derek was a smooth talker and an over-promiser. Ever since he’d been transferred to the Academy three years ago, he’d had to clean up a couple of Derek’s messes twice already when he got into hot water with two other donors. Female donors. He had trouble taking ‘no’ for an answer.
Derek arrived with a woman – Viktor watched them enter the room from a distance. He was already talking, a grin plastered against his face, while the woman searched the crowd of people. He wondered whether she was looking for someone she knew, or the closest exit. She didn’t appear enthralled with his speech or presence.
She was shorter than her obligatory companion, with long dark hair that trailed past her knees; there were soft pink-white flowers placed in the bed of her hair. She wore a radiant white, half sheer dress that seemed to glimmer under the bright lights of the auditorium, it had a small train that followed her; it contrasted against her honey complexion. She looked like a brilliant star.
Her eyes passed him by, and for a fraction of a moment, he thought he saw recognition in her. But he had never met a woman of her apparent status before, he had no reason to, neither any desire. They had nothing in common.
He watched as Derek insisted she meet several other recurring donors, as well as the Ecology professor – whose current project was on the docket to be supported. He guided her with a hand around her waist, and Viktor saw her recoil with the flash of a disdainful glance at her chaperone. She maintained her composure and grace, and pried herself away, finding an excuse to take a brief leave away from him. He ran his mouth enough for the both of them, and the donors were entertained enough as the woman left and wound through the crowd.
Despite Viktor’s distaste for the elite and wealthy, he felt a moral obligation to warn her of Derek’s history should they cross paths.
He lost track of her somewhere in the mingling. Between having to keep his balance from the people who were careless of where they stepped around his cane, and being stopped by Heimerdinger to answer the occasional admin question, Viktor found himself preoccupied.
But he felt a presence behind him, and someone called out his name –
“Viktor?”
He turned, careful not to have his cane kicked out from under him again, and not to spill champagne on a prospective donor. “Yes?”
The woman stood there, in front of him now, a curious expression on her face – as if she were trying to piece together a puzzle. She smiled – wide and bright. “Viktor, you look the same. All grown up.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Don’t you remember me?” she asked in Czech. She chuckled, “It’s me – Anya. We used to play together by the dam.”
He furrowed, piecing the same puzzle together himself. She was not thin and emaciated – her hair was fuller and much longer with age, as was custom of her species. She wasn’t covered in streaks of grease. The accent that mirrored his own had faded only slightly, just like his. Her eyes had stayed the same: dark and intense, but a lightning bolt away from brevity. A smile began to pull at the corner of his mouth. “Anya? Is that you? Little Anya?”
She laughed. “It has been so long.”
“A lifetime.” Words eluded him for a moment before he took a breath. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to make a donation.”
He shook his head. “Of course. I saw you come in with Derek.” His lips pursed as his sights fell to the head of PR, still lingering in the distance. He looked away the moment he locked eyes with the man. Damn.
Her smile faded quickly. “Yes.” She was about to expand on her displeasure, when she was cut short.
“Anya,” he spoke in their shared language as Derek moved swiftly through the crowd towards them. “Please be careful around him. He has a reputation.”
“What kind of reputation?” She found herself moving closer to her old friend.
“A philanderer. He will not understand your culture.” It took everything in him not to embrace her as she stepped forward.
“Miss Anya – I lost you for a moment. My apologies.”
“That’s fine,” she said and took a step to the side. “It gave me a chance to reconnect with an old friend.”
Derek looked Viktor in the eye and shook his hand for the first time in the three years he’d worked there. “That’s great.” He forced a practiced smile. “There are several other benefactors I was hoping you’d meet this evening.” He began to reach a hand for her hip to guide her away.
Anya pulled her body away, but Derek’s hand continued to search for her.
“I believe the lady can decide for herself,” Viktor said and positioned himself halfway between them.
Anya gave her friend a grateful smile. She gathered the small train of her dress and proceeded to follow her escort. “Will I see you again?” She asked Viktor before she left.
He had hoped she would linger – if not beside him, then in his vicinity. He had not realized, until that moment, how much he had missed her presence. “I hope so.”
She took one last look over her shoulder and disappeared into the crowd once more, shielding herself from the prying eyes and hands of the man at her side. Viktor knew Anya could defend herself. He had seen her do it with his own eyes. But still, he worried.
He had vivid memories of them in Zaun, the way she would bark and smack at anyone who did or said anything out of turn towards him or herself. He wasn’t often included by the other children, neither was he granted much patience. Anya was the exception. They did not see each other everyday, neither were they particularly close. But she had made a lasting impression on him. An engraving of goodness and hope: that there were still corners of light even in the darkest depths of life. He had never expected to see her in Piltover. His own escape from the undercity was a rarity. He was happy for her, nonetheless.
He wondered if it would be the last time they spoke. Again.
The following day was duller than the last, save for the fact that Heimerdinger had several errands he entrusted to Viktor. It was a welcome break in his mundane. But regardless of what he did, or where, or for whom, the only thing he could think about was Anya.
She looked well. He was almost envious. But she could not help the immunity to toxins granted to her by her species. She looked human – among any other group of humans, one could not distinguish her species from the others around her. But her muscles, her bones were denser, her temperature was hotter, every strand of her hair was a single nerve – thus her species never cut their hair, and it was forbidden for anyone but a person’s parents or spouse to touch it. He remembered distinctly, a boy once tried to pull on a lock of it, and she shrieked with fear and pain before he even tugged. She then promptly punched him in the face – the density of her species’ muscles gave her a mean right hook. Her parents gave the boy a tongue lashing, and Viktor was always careful to keep himself away from her mane, no matter how long it got.
He wondered if she married, if that was how she found her wealth and status. He did not mean it as an insult. But such luxury is difficult to obtain when one originates from the sewer grates. He would never fault her if she found safety by marriage. Still, he worried. Her species took only one lover over their long lifetime – a bonding lasting several centuries. He read about it in a cultural history textbook during his time at the Academy. Her species could forever feel the connection to their lover, even in death. He didn’t know how it worked. He largely regarded it as a spiritual superstition.
All he knew, whether superstition or not, her species took it as seriously as life and death. He worried that if she married for safety and money rather than happiness, she would be miserable all the long years of her life. She was a good person – a decent person, which was also a rarity. He wanted nothing but the best for the person who had brought him a sense of peace as a child.
Viktor arrived back at the Academy in a horseless carriage. His back was tired, and his leg was stiffening up. He was looking forward to the repose of his quiet office. But as he rolled to a halt, he found that someone had taken his spot in the lot. It was a closer spot to the entrance – an accommodation given to him by Heimerdinger himself.
He sighed and rested his head on the wheel, his hands clutching either side.
He looked up again and saw a faculty permit on the rear of the vehicle. If he squinted, he could make out the words: ‘Derek’, and ‘Relations’. It was a nice vehicle, much nicer than his own, and if he had to guess, it had been bought with the Academy’s coin. This wasn’t the first time he’d had this exact issue with Derek – and others. But it was more and more aggravating each and every time. He drew in a silent breath as he closed his eyes and debated whether or not he wanted to pick a fight with a department head. Viktor was connected, but he wasn’t impervious to grudges from higher ups.
The thought of Derek’s hand around Anya’s waist flashed hot across his memory, and he made a decision. Whether it was a good or bad decision remained to be seen.
Viktor got out of the carriage and hailed an attendant. As he did, Derek appeared from one of the building exits, followed by Anya. He presumed he was instructed to court her with fine wine and lavish afternoons, as a way to offer her all the reasons she should give her well earned money to the Academy. He also presumed he meant to impress her with his gilded carriage. If she was still the same Anya he remembered, however, she would not be impressed with gold.
Viktor stood there with his own carriage behind Derek’s, leaning on his cane a little harder than he would have liked. He stood up straight as they met eyes.
“You seem to have taken my spot,” he motioned with a flat smile.
“Right, yeah – I’ll move it in a minute.”
“No need. I have already asked the attendant to move it. You will be able to retrieve it at the Academy backlot later today.” He glanced at Anya who moved from around her escort and between the two men. She was again, in her culture’s formal wear, and her hair draped along her shoulders and down her back.
“You’re having it towed?”
“That is policy,” he shrugged.
Derek swallowed the fury that was beginning to froth at his throat. He leaned in and quieted his voice to a growl. “Your boss won’t be too happy when he learns you’re obstructing this potential patronage.”
Viktor didn’t flinch.
“My patronage is guided by neither material nor opulence,” Anya said. She stood beside her friend, trying to break the other’s harsh gaze. “I would rather not be persuaded by someone who has such little care for their subordinates.”
Derek scoffed. “He’s not even from my department.”
“That is true,” Viktor hummed. “If anything, it is me who has cleaned up your messes. I don’t think it would be looked favorably upon to have an Academy vehicle impounded. Three strikes, and you are out, as they say.”
Derek rose to his height over Viktor. “Are you threatening me?”
“I am merely stating a fact. On your third infringement, you will be terminated.”
“You’ve had it out for me since I got here, plebe.” The man seized Viktor’s vest.
Viktor pulled away and put up an arm to defend himself.
Anya smacked him hard across the face and hissed. “Don’t touch him.”
Derek grabbed Anya’s wrist and bent her arm to pry her away.
With her one hand immobilized, Anya struck him with the palm of her other hand – a sharp impact on his collarbone.
He let out a gnarled cry, and turned to her with rage in his eyes. He let go of her hand, and took hold of her hair instead, yanking her head backwards.
Anya let out a scream of pain and terror.
Viktor pushed her behind him and took the body of his cane in his palm. In one long, powerful stroke he swung it with every ounce of strength he had –
It fell with a crack onto the bridge of Derek’s nose.
His hand relinquished Anya’s hair and he fell to the ground in a mound of pain and blood.
Viktor immediately put himself between them, ushering her away from the other as quickly and deftly as he could. He watched an attendant in the distance arrive with a larger vehicle; he hurried at the sight of the commotion.
“Are you okay?” Viktor asked in their shared language. His hands gently rested on her arms – careful not to touch any loose strands that were still draped over her.
She let a shaky breath, holding the lock that Derek had grabbed. With a nod, she rested her brow on her friend’s shoulder.
“Let me take you home,” he said.
She did not protest.
He found she lived in a large home, a mansion – the kind of home he could only dream of as a child. It made little sense to him how she acquired it, but he knew better than to ask. There was no spouse to greet her, nor any children. She lived there alone, she said.
He had resigned himself and gladly accepted his fate of loneliness. But Anya was too kind a person to live lonely all her life. He wondered if she was happy.
She invited him for coffee and sweet bread, but he declined. He had caused her enough trouble for one afternoon.
Heimerdinger was waiting in Viktor’s office when he returned.
“There will be an investigation – but it will be open and shut. There were multiple witnesses as to what happened. I am required to reprimand you for your use of violence. Consider this your reprimanding,” he gave his protege a nod.
Viktor let out a quiet sigh of relief that his punishment was not worse. “Thank you, sir. I wanted only to protect my friend, as she once protected me. Nothing else.”
“‘Your friend’?”
“Yes. We grew up together, in Zaun.”
Heimerdinger thought for a moment. “How fortuitous. The Public Relations department is scrambling to keep itself above water, so to speak – given that the head of their department has been promptly terminated. However, Miss Anya is a donor we can’t afford to lose. The amount she has proposed is – well, it’s far too substantial. I’m not one to focus solely on monetary gain, but truthfully, the Academy could use the funds. It could cover our expenses for the next fiscal year and then some.”
Viktor hadn’t realized exactly how generous she had been.
“I’d like you to take Derek’s place with Miss Anya, since you have a personal connection to her. Try to smooth things over. Whatever she wants to do, or see, or know. At best, she will consider it an apology.”
“Sir, with all due respect, public relations is not part of my job description.”
Heimerdinger looked at him, surprised. “You are my assistant. You need to be prepared for anything.”
Viktor swore under his breath.
Heimerdinger got up and made his way to the door. “It won’t be that difficult, Viktor. Take her to dinner – tell her about the projects we have on the docket. Talk with her,” he said and left.
Viktor hadn’t had a full conversation with Anya in nearly fifteen years. He wasn’t sure he knew how.
But, he thought, as he leaned back in his seat and put up his leg, she didn’t seem to have changed much. Quiet, fiery, and kind. Perhaps dinner would make a fair apology.