Chapter Text
Vi rolls her shoulders as subtly as she can, stretching her neck away from the stiff collar of her coat. She purses her lips and grips her wrist a little tighter from where her arms are folded behind her back.
Despite her efforts, the movements draw Vander’s attention. He glances down at her and raises his brow. You alright?
Vi dips her chin in a small nod. She sees a flash of concern in Vander’s eyes before he gives her an encouraging smile. Vi switches the cross of her wrists as Vander turns his attention back to a conversation she's lost track of. She listens to the low rumble of Vander’s polite laughter as she sweeps her gaze about the room.
The ballroom, as Vander bemusedly corrected when Vi had called it a ‘fucking cavern’ earlier in the evening, was…bright. The sun had long since set and large windowed balconies let the night sky paint a stunning contrast to the glittering warmth of the party.
Piltovans dressed in bright colors trimmed with gold and silver twirling around the dancefloor. Jewelry catching the light as people gesture in conversation. Waitstaff brandishing shimmering silver platters laden with tiny tiny foods. Vi’s own coat, a deep, bold red, its polished gold decals and buttons flashing in her periphery.
Vander’s hand lands heavy on her shoulder. He’s moving away, throwing well-wishes over his shoulder as the conversation disperses. Belatedly, Vi realizes she should do the same. She nods her head in farewell and plasters a smile on her face just before Vander moves his hand to her other shoulder and twirls her to face forward.
Vander lets go of Vi to snag two champagne flutes from a waiter, passing one down to her. She grabs it, confused.
“Just this once. Quick, before anyone sees,” Vander smirks at her before downing his drink in one pull. The empty glass looks comically small in his hands.
Vi tries to mimic him. Tilting the glass back along with her head. She takes three pulls to Vander’s one and fails to hide her grimace at the taste. Nothing, then bitter, then sour.
Vander chuckles beside her, taking her empty glass and setting it on a table. They’re walking along the length of the ballroom now, brisk enough as to not invite another group of Piltovans to approach.
“Not your cup of tea, huh?” Vander jostles her with his elbow.
Vi sways exaggeratedly. Nudges Vander back with her shoulder. “That was shit. They call this the good stuff?”
Vander rolls his eyes. “To be fair, you’re meant to sip it.”
“Yeah, no thanks.”
Vi switches her grip again, wrists crossing over each other. She sighs.
Vander’s brows furrow. “S’wrong?”
“I’m uncomfortable,” Vi confesses. There’s no use lying to her freakin’ dad. “On edge,” She adds.
Vander hums. “You’re doing great, Kiddo,” He reassures quietly. “Thank you for agreeing to come along.”
Vi shrugs. Follows as Vander leads her out onto an unoccupied balcony. Decorative curtains billow softly with the breeze.
“This is important,” Vi responds. The Pilties want to see if we can dance their dance, Vi thinks privately. “Everyone Topside wants to meet The Hound who brokered peace between Piltover and Zaun,” She says instead.
“And his prodigy,” Vander adds, giving Vi a proud look.
Vi can’t help but preen. Puffing out her chest at the title.
Vander leans back against the balcony. Resting his elbow on the flat stone of the railing. It strikes Vi now that this is the most relaxed she’s seen Vander all night and still his eyes scan the ballroom like it's a battlefield. You’d think it really was one, with the way her sister and brothers sent them off earlier in the day. Vi shifts closer to Vander. Follows his line of sight. Takes in the decadence of the ball.
“We’ll give it another hour,” Vander groans as he straightens. He cracks his neck. Left, then right, and breathes in, letting out a deep sigh through his nose.
Vi mirrors him. Shifting her weight onto the balls of her feet, rallying herself.
“Not so fast, Kiddo,” Vander stops her with a stern expression. It cracks at a twitch of his lips, letting her in on the bit. “Take a few more minutes out here.”
“Vander-” Vi starts to protest.
Vander cuts her off with a shake of his head. “You’re wound up tighter than a spring. I’m surprised your hands remember how to form anything but fists at this point.” His expression softens. “We aren’t at war anymore, Violet. You can take a break if you need one.”
At Vanders words, Vi lets herself feel the ache in her shoulders. Feels the pulse of her heartbeat under fingers wrapped around her left wrist. The tingling of her hand falling asleep from her own too-tight grip.
“Okay,” Vi agrees. Whispers, almost.
Vander smiles, warmly. “Come find me when you’re ready, alright?
Vi nods.
Vander leans down to give her a kiss on the forehead before moving back towards the ballroom.
“Love you, Kiddo.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
Vander disappears into the sea of partygoers and Vi forces herself to relax.
She starts with her shoulders, reaching her hands towards the sky, stretching them out properly. Then she shakes out her arms and hands to bring the feeling back to them. She bounces on her toes to relieve the ache in her heels. She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths the way Claggor taught her to, feeling a pressure behind her eyes ease.
Vi opens her eyes and pointedly turns her back on the party. Not at war anymore. But still a battle to be won. A test to pass. She rests her palms on the balcony, head bowed.
Vi and her siblings usually took turns going to public events with Vander, but for big, fancy ones like these, she's the only one he brings- to the great relief of her siblings (she can beg off the next three, though. That's the deal). Upper-crust Piltovans cared about things like heirs and duty. It’d reflect poorly on Vander if Vi wasn't there. Even if he’d brought all three of his other children. Weirdos. Back in the Lanes, people would scramble at a word from Powder. All they needed to know was that she was Vander’s kid.
Vi sighs, runs a hand through her hair, and lets the soft breeze ground her. A smattering of laughter has her turning her head. Gazing back into the ballroom over her shoulder, she sees that a new song has started playing. People are switching partners, walking off for a break, and dragging friends onto the dance floor. Vi can’t help but smile. As much as the excess of Piltover exhausts her, it’s hard to be grumpy in the face of so many joyful people.
A trio catches her eye. A couple and their daughter, a girl seemingly her age. The man is laughing, he twirls the girl in circles before passing her to the woman. The woman is exasperated, but fond as she receives her daughter, hugging her close and playfully scolding the man. The girl's eyes are sparkling, mouth stretched wide in a grin. Her nose scrunches as her mother fusses with her hair, revealing a gap between her two front teeth.
Vi chuckles. Cute, she thinks. Her laugh stutters in her chest when the girl locks eyes with her, though. Bright blue. Surprised. Narrowing, wait- shit. It’s only a moment before someone passes between them and Vi releases the breath she's been holding. She’s lost track of the girl in the throng of people but she feels her ears heat up anyways. There really is nothing more embarrassing than making accidental eye contact with someone you’ve been staring at.
She shifts so that the frame of the balcony door hopefully hides her from view and chances to peek through the gaps in the curtains. A minute passes where she fails to spot the girl and Vi lets herself forget the moment. She’s taken enough time out here. Embarrassment be damned, she needs to go and find Vand-
“Excuse me-”
“Fuck!”
Vi scrambles backward. She trips over her feet falling- crashing against the stone of the balcony.
“-Oh!”
Bright blue eyes. Sparkling.
“Are you alright-“
Surprised.
Vi shoves her palm down on the railing, pushing herself up.
Widening.
“I’m fine!” Vi says. She winces. Too loud. “I’m fine,” She repeats, quieter. “I- I’m…”
Smile. Nose scrunch. Tooth gap.
The girl’s laughter rings out into the night. “I’m sorry I don’t mean to-” She brings her hands up to cover her mouth. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise!”
“You’re-” Vi feels heat flush from her chest all the way up to her ears. “Yes you are!”
“I’m sorry!” The girl gasps through giggles, “Here, let me-” The girl is half lit by the lights in the ballroom. Her silhouette moves toward Vi, arms reaching out as if to help steady her.
Vi doesn’t need her help. She presses her back into stone.
As if sensing Vi’s indignance, the girl halts her movement, opting to clasp her hands together in front of herself instead.
“It’s just,” The girl says, still breathless, recovering from laughter, “I saw you. A moment ago. I don’t believe- have we met? I didn’t mean to startle you. I am sorry for giving you a fright.”
Vi squeezes her eyes shut and huffs, shoulders moving up to bracket her ears. Get a hold of yourself, she thinks. Pretty girl, her brain shoots back. She peeks her eyes open to see that the girl has…not stopped talking.
“...I’ve been to quite a number of these, you see, and it’s not often that I see a new face. And you’re, well, I should think I would recognize yours. Your hair is so pink! It’s a lovely colour…”
Slowly Vi lowers her shoulders. She doesn’t stop the girl. Lets her speak, lets the words wash over her.
“...and father always insists on one dance at the end of the night, all three of us…” The girl swooshes the skirt of her dress a bit, her grin melting into a shy smile as she continues.
Vi feels her fingers unfurl from fists, feels her pulse steady.
“...wondering who you were. Then I thought, well, why don’t I just come over and ask-”
“I’m Vi,” Vi blurts out.
The girl pauses. Then beams. “I’m Caitlyn,” she breathes, excited. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Vi blames it on the fairytales she reads Powder at night. Blames it on the pirate adventure books she swaps with Claggor. Blames it on Milo’s ‘tips’ on flirting with girls. So it's really not her fault when all she can think to do is stick her hand out and face her palm upward.
“Enchanted,” Vi says. And then immediately kicks herself for it. You fucking dweeb, oh my god.