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Viktor hates courting balls with a passion, more so than any other nonsensical Piltovian tradition. Every time the Academy organizes one, he makes sure to have a good reason to be occupied elsewhere. This careful planning has always proved fruitful and has saved him from unavoidable humiliation.
Until today, that is.
Because of course, this year’s courting ball just had to take place right after the Distinguished Innovators Competition, which Viktor couldn’t possibly miss. Which means that now, Viktor has no choice but to attend this unpalatable event. Or rather, suffer through it. All for the sake of appearances.
Not that he cares much about those to begin with. He has been labeled an Undercity outsider the moment he crossed the bridge, and that will never change, whether he tries to fit in or not. However, if Viktor chose not to show up at the venue, his image wouldn’t be the only one tarnished. His actions would also impact Jayce, as well as their Hextech dream. And that is something he cannot have.
So there he is, sat as far away from the dancefloor as politeness allows, sipping on a drink that does not contain enough alcohol to make his current situation anywhere near bearable.
It’s not like he could do much else. Courting rituals revolve around three major activities: Dancing, flying, and singing. His weak leg and atrophied wing forbid him from partaking in the first twos, and the Grey has forever turned his chirping grating and unpleasant.
Besides, there would be no point in joining the festivities, even if his failing body didn’t stand against it, since the purpose of courting balls is to find a romantic match, to eventually soar into the air with your mate of choice and… Well, who here would take interest in a poor orphan from the Undercity with dull sparrow wings?
Viktor scoffs at himself. Such futile preoccupations shouldn’t affect him. Yes, he will never find love, so what? That’s no reason to uselessly wallow in self-pity when he could focus on Hextech research instead. He doesn’t need a significant other to revolutionize science and better people’s lives. Only his mind, some funding, and…
His partner.
Despite his best judgment, Viktor’s stare drifts toward Jayce, irremediably drawn to him. His heart aches as he sees him graciously dance and garnish the attention of everyone around him. He is more handsome than ever, dressed in a gold and white gala attire, and effortlessly overshadows all other competitors. Now, if only his attention was directed toward him…
Again, Viktor berates himself. What a foolish feeling. He specifically sneaked away right at the end of their presentation so that Jayce wouldn’t feel obligated to stay by his side the whole evening. The last thing he wants is to be a burden, to push his partner to give up on romance for his sake.
So why is this insidious bitterness coiling around his heart and squeezing tight? Why does his chest twist every time Jayce’s perfect song reaches his ears?
His partner is searching for someone, that much Viktor can tell. Hopeful hazel eyes keep scanning the crowd in pursuit of that mystery person, adorably eager. The many suitors that approach Jayce get gently turned down one after the other, no matter how rich or gorgeous, unable to compete with whoever has stolen his partner’s heart.
Viktor cannot help but loathe that faceless stranger. Why aren’t they responding to Jayce’s advances already, may it be to accept or reject them? Does it procure them sick enjoyment, to leave him waiting? Is the sheer devotion displayed by his partner not enough to warrant an answer?
As the minutes stretch, he can see how Jayce’s expression slowly starts to fall, how his smile does not reach his eyes anymore. His gorgeous white wings speckled with black spots – whether those are natural markings or stains from the forge or both, Viktor can never tell – which were proudly spread wide at the beginning of the ball, are now drooping low. Still, he keeps singing, though with far less harmony than before. Not that it’s any surprising, given how his throat must be hurting from overuse.
Around him, people are whispering meanly, especially those Jayce refused to dance with earlier. They snicker and point fingers at him, nowhere near subtle. It makes Viktor’s blood boil, to see them mock his misfortune with such shameless cruelty.
And as his partner’s eyes start filling up with quiet tears, his restraint snaps.
In a fit of protective anger, he grabs his cane and heads for the dancefloor. The loud clicking that accompanies his every step fatally draws the crowd’s attention to him.
So much for not making a fool of himself tonight.
Still, he ignores their judgmental stare – How does a nobody from the Undercity dare mingle with the elite of Piltover? – and keeps advancing toward Jayce, unafraid to shoulder through the dancers blocking his way.
His partner lights up as soon as he spots him, and his wings welcome his arrival with a happy little flap. It warms Viktor’s heart, to know Jayce finds solace in his presence, even though he was expecting someone else. Kindly, he offers him his hand.
“Would you mind joining me for a moment? I think I’ve figured out how to combine Hextech with that prototype we’ve been working on, and I need your input.”
It is only an excuse to take him away from the unforgiving spotlight, of course. That prototype he speaks of doesn’t even exist, and Jayce knows it well. With all the energy and time they put into this year’s Distinguished Innovators Competition, they certainly couldn’t afford to divert their efforts on a side project.
However, his partner’s reaction isn’t the one Viktor envisioned. Although Jayce doesn’t waste a second to link their fingers together, he also appears… conflicted.
Disappointed, even.
“You… You sure you don’t want to enjoy the party a little first?”
Ah. Maybe Viktor overstepped. No, not maybe. He certainly did. In hindsight, it makes sense that Jayce would want to wait for the one he is courting until the very last second, even if by doing so, he became the target of endless mockery. He is pure-hearted like that.
Viktor shakes his head and removes his hand from the gentle hold of Jayce’s large one, furious with himself. He should have taken the time to get a better read on the situation before acting so impulsively. What was he thinking?
“I do not make a very good dancer, I fear. Besides, I doubt anyone here would so much as glance at me, but you go enjoy your night. I… I should be able to deal with this on my own, all things considered. My apologies for bothering you.”
He is about to retreat in shame when Jayce puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Wait, Viktor! What you just said, about no one here wanting you… That’s not true!”
Viktor tenses at the touch. It takes all of his self-control not to have his good wing bat his partner’s hand away. He cannot do this here, not in front of all those people. Cannot go through the excruciating task of explaining to Jayce that no, no one will ever sing or dance for someone as broken as him. That he will never know how it feels to be courted…
He takes a deep breath, and tries not to embarrass himself any further than he already has.
“While I appreciate your kindness, Jayce, I…”
“You don’t understand! It’s not kindness!” His partner exclaims, so loud that the entire room falls silent. “I… I’ve been singing for you this whole evening…”
Tears stream down his cheeks and his pretty wings flutter anxiously as he utters out this heartfelt confession. And Viktor is left thunderstruck, because all that…
All that was…
For him?
He struggles to reconcile the image he has of himself with the undeniable love in Jayce’s eyes. A joy unlike any he has ever known floods his chest. Words fail him.
The entire ballroom stays frozen in wait of his response as the seconds tick by.
“Please, say something…” Jayce imploringly murmurs, shaken by his silence.
Viktor does more than that. He wraps his arms and wings around his partner, cooing and chirping, for once not caring that others might find his song disharmonious. His spontaneity gets rewarded with the sweetest reward when Jayce responds to his trills with the same unbridled enthusiasm. He forgets all about their audience, his attention entirely focused on the man his heart has chosen.
“Jayce, you…” He stutters. “I’m sorry, I never thought… It… It was not my intention to keep you waiting…”
“It’s okay. You were more than worth the wait, " his partner assures him while nuzzling his cheek. “I want to fly with you. Please?”
Oh, Viktor would love to tell him yes, but…
“My wing…”
“I know. I would carry you in my arms. Would… would that be alright with you?”
Oh, how could Viktor possibly tell him no when he sounds so adorably endearing? So he nods and trustingly wraps his arms around Jayce’s neck. A deep blush colors his cheeks as strong arms effortlessly lift him off the ground. It spreads to his chest when Jayce’s wings do not even struggle under their combined weight as he takes to the air.
Damn, for once, he has really gotten lucky.
They do not stay exposed to the crowd’s prying eyes for long. Jayce flies through one of the numerous exits carved into the roof for that very purpose. They might be among the last pairs to have formed tonight, but none of the other couples come close to matching Jayce’s speed. For Viktor, who has been stuck on the ground most of his life, the feeling is exhilarating.
They soar high above the city, higher than Viktor thought he would ever reach. However, there is not a single trace of fear in his heart, as he knows his partner would never let go. Only the purest, truest elation. Their voices keep merging into the most beautifully imperfect song. It might be a little raspy, a little discordant, but it speaks of their love. It’s all that matters.
And, as they share their very first kiss under the moonlit sky, Viktor does not feel so upset about Piltover’s absurd traditions anymore.
Not when his efforts to compose with them led him straight into Jayce’s loving arms.