Chapter Text
Vi was scared.
Her left leg was bouncing with anticipation, her upper body falling slightly forwards in order to have both elbows resting on her knees; her brows knitted together in a mix of fear, guilt, sadness and her characteristic fiery determination. Her blue-grey eyes kept scanning that familiar dusty wooden floor that creaked like hell whenever someone wanted to do something quietly, her mind subconsciously trying to retain any possible detail about the place she called home before the door in front of her opened and she was inevitably dragged away from her family, from everything she ever knew, by one, two or maybe a dozen enforcers. Pulling Vander’s prodigy, the princess of the Undercity, the fist of Zaun, the Hound of the Undercity’s first daughter; across her own streets.
Golden child my ass , she thought with bitterness, her lips pressing together in a scowl that would’ve had Vander worrying about her. Like he’ll probably be once he finds out what I’ve done .
≫────≪•◦ ❈◦•≫────≪
Grayson was in her office, arguing with Marcus (again) for doing whatever the fuck he wanted without consulting her (again). One may think the sheriff would have to approve something before her enforcers actually did it. Well, Marcus thought that being the second-in-command granted him the power to break that rule, the complete idiot.
Whoever thought he would be a good choice for this job was either blind or an even bigger idiot, was one of Grayson’s most recurrent thoughts as of late.
She was about to open her mouth to explain how harmful it actually was the fact that he had gone and ordered a search of The Last Drop with half the Undercity as witnesses, when a loud clank caught her attention. The messenger tube she’d given Vander in case he changed his mind.
She truly hadn’t thought he’d use it. She was no zaunite herself, but working alongside Vander all these years had actually taught her a lot about the Undercity’s natural sense of loyalty, and specifically Vander’s was worthy of respect, to say the least.
That being said, she had to admit to herself that she was more relieved than she probably should after seeing that tube. Piltover needed a way of solving this, and solving it fast.
≫────≪•◦ ❈◦•≫────≪
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The sound of boots against the ground. Rhythmic and, in Vi’s opinion, all the more unnerving. It was as if enforcers could even march to their own deaths, always composed and cold, without a second thought about what they were about to cause with their ugly blue uniforms and their matching boots. The ones that made that horrible sound to begin with.
Vi was terrified.
She thought about Powder, her little sister with ideas bigger than herself. She thought about Vander, the dad she always had by her side and the most fundamental pillar of her life. Mylo, Claggor, Ekko. Her younger brothers, none of them by blood but all of them by love. She was the eldest, the responsible one, the person in charge of protecting them while Vander took care of the rest of them, the whole of the Undercity. What were they going to do without her? What was she going to do without them? Her dad cared for all of them, as any leader should, but she didn’t, not to that extent. She had four siblings and a father. That was all that had ever mattered since the bridge. The same bridge she was about to cross.
I’m going to lose it all again, but it’s the only way. The only way, and her worst nightmare.
Vi was terrified, but the fear for her own life and safety was at the very bottom of her list. Vander’s words from the day before sounded in her head.
‘Whatever happens to them, it’s on you’.
‘When people look up to you, you don’t get to be selfish’.
Vander protected the Undercity and Vi did the same with her family, not caring that her siblings were of course part of that same Undercity that was Vander’s to defend. He had sacrificed enough for them. It was about time for her to return the favour.
It was, after all, her fault. It’s on me .
‘But I’m going to miss them so much’, she muttered to herself, a drop of something cold falling to her hand. She looked up on instinct, looking for a roof leak. But as soon as she moved her head, she noticed. Her eyes were wet, filled with tears she hadn’t noticed were sliding down her face in a silent cry for help, for comfort. For a miracle. I want to go home, please let me return, she thought.
"I don’t get to be selfish", she whispered.
Vi stood up from the chair she’d been sitting on, lifted her arm to wipe away her tear stained face, and looked up as the sounds became louder. Chin held high, she told herself she was ready.
The door opened, silence following. Two enforcers came in, a man and a woman. The woman had a different uniform, with a golden badge at the front of her jacket. ‘ She must be their boss, the sheriff even’. The other one was smiling, and Vi hated him immediately for it. He grabbed something from his belt, and a pair of handcuffs appeared in his hands, but he didn’t even get the chance to step forward before a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"Put those away, Marcus. We won’t be needing them", she said with an even firmer voice.
"But-", he tried to complain.
"Away, I said", repeated the woman. She had an interesting accent, not unpleasant to listen to. It sounded almost soothing, as if she actually cared.
Huh, yeah sure. As if.
The woman was the one to finally take a step forward, looking Vi in the eye and moving her hand from gripping her co-worker’s shoulder in a warning gesture, to resting it lightly atop Vi’s, conveniently leaving the asshole behind. Vi was unsure of what she was doing, but she didn’t exactly feel threatened, so she waited for her to continue.
"Kid-", she started.
"It’s Vi", she clarified, her tone harsh, always refusing to be called a kid except for her dad’s nickname for her.
"Vi", she resumed. "Were you the one that contacted me?"
A nod.
"Are you aware of what you’re getting yourself into?"
Another nod.
"You won’t return in a very long time."
"I know".
The woman sighed, her eyes dropping from Vi’s for a moment.
"Very well. Come with me, then."
Vi instantly noticed the me instead of just saying us , since there were two of them. She assumed the woman wasn’t very fond of this Marcus, which Vi, somewhere deep in her brain, found calming. She already hated him, his expression being the same that all enforcers showed when dealing with them trenchers, a mix of disgust, distrust, and a false sense of superiority permanently plastered on their faces.
Vi crossed the door without looking back, her shoulder still covered by the woman’s hand. The grip didn’t hurt, it wasn’t even tight. Vi could’ve slipped away at any given moment, and they both knew it. The other enforcer was following behind, muttering something to himself.
Vi was taken away that day through uncrowded streets, barely another soul in sight to watch what was happening, and Vi counted that as a little victory. She would have hated passing directly in front of the home she was leaving behind, and god forbid that Powder or any other accidentally saw them. No, this was better. Safer.
Each step they took meant being closer to Piltover and her inevitable imprisonment, perfectly polished brown boots walking alongside mismatched and patched ones.
Vi crossed the bridge that day, but Violet was still waiting on the other side. Her soul across the river. At least for now.