Chapter Text
“Pardon me?” Caitlyn blinked rapidly, trying (and failing) to hide how alarmed she was by what Vi had just confessed.
“I'm going to have the baby at home.” Vi repeated herself slowly, with the patience of a particularly benevolent goddess. “That's how my mom did it. My mom, her mom, and her mom before that. No one in Zaun holed themselves up in some hospital ward to have a kid, unless there was a problem. Provided nothing goes wrong with our lil muffin, I'm having her at home.”
Caitlyn sat at the kitchen table stunned, her mouth moving to form the shapes of words without sound. Knowing her wife needed time to process that bombshell, Vi continued tucking into her breakfast unbothered. It took a minute for Cait to unstick herself. When she did, there was a rush of outraged spluttering and stammering - sounds without words this time.
Eventually, she was able to condense the magnitude of her feeling into a hard statement: “Absolutely not.”
Vi raised a brow in response to her denial, a quiet behavioral check that Cait was well attuned to after all their years as partners.
“I mean – I'd strongly rather that you not.” The apology wasn't direct, but still clear in the rephrase. “We can book you into hospital without there being an existing medical issue, love. We have the resources –”
Vi clicked her tongue softly and shook her head. “It's not about resources, cupcake. Not in this case, anyway. It's about tradition. Bringing a baby into the world the right way.”
Caitlyn's brows drew together in a mixture of confusion and concern, the furrow between them deepening ever more. “I don't understand. What's more ‘right’ than the safest option?”
They'd never had the occasion to talk about the cultural differences in birthing practices until now. Sure, they'd spent countless hours on their own, personal experiences of childhood, but that wasn't the same as what they were coming up against now. Vi realized this and, rather than default to the old defensive instinct, she consciously chose to open space for discussion. There was so much trust in that decision, more than Caitlyn might ever realize.
“In the Lanes, having a baby is a big deal. It always is – but down there, it's different. Life's hard. Miserable as all get out. We hardly catch any wins, so when we do, it's worth celebrating. A baby - a breathing baby - that's one of the greatest wins we get. People rally around it, y'know. We'd get together baby boxes for the parents - these big things all full of hand-me-downs - and the real religious folks would give ‘em Janna's blessing. Once people knew someone was having a kid, word would get to the local midwives like that -” Vi snapped her fingers.
“- and they'd come around all the time to make sure everything was going okay. It wasn't just the midwives who'd check in on people either. Everyone chipped in. Like Vander, he spruced up old cribs for people. If he could swing it, he'd make new ones. And the miners would pool their wages so that expecting folks could eat better while they carried. Even us kids would run errands when we saw someone was really far along and needed help.” She smiled fondly at the memories … all those times being part of something bigger had filled her with happiness and pride.
“When it was time for the baby to come, family, friends, everyone who cared – they'd all show up at the house and wait. However it turned out, good or bad, we wanted the baby to be surrounded by love. The world wouldn't be kind to them, so we had to be. Oh – the way people would cheer when we heard that first cry …” Vi trailed off, grinning so brightly that it made Caitlyn’s heart ache. “That's what I mean by ‘right’, Cait. It was safe. But it was more than that, too. How it happened … it proved people cared about you. And I'm not gonna get a baby box or a blessing or have a house full of people waitin' on me and the muffin to pull through. Having her here is all I can do. It's the closest I can get. I want to have her in this place that we made together.”
So, there it was. Vi's hopes and her losses made bare for Caitlyn again. A version of the world that she had never known, painted in the most vivid color for her to wonder at. What had once been abstract was pulled forward into clear, deliberate brush strokes. Caitlyn couldn't quite relate. Piltovans weren't nearly so communally minded or sentimental about these matters, but listening to Vi, Caitlyn thought they ought to be. This moment in life was indescribably precious. It did demand celebration and connection. Caitlyn felt that familiar flare of frustration with her upbringing. Once again, it had closed her off from any other way of thinking. She felt her ignorance keenly, as though it was a physical sore spot being shoved at.
“Ah,” Caitlyn started softly. “I didn't know it would be that important to you. I assumed …” She stopped and shook her head. It didn't matter what she'd thought. She knew better now. Caitlyn took a deep breath, steadying herself amidst mental waves of insecurity, new information, and lingering uncertainties.
“I wish I could give you all that. I wish we had rituals to match. But there's just – nothing.” Caitlyn felt shattered for Vi – and for herself. Who might she have been, if she'd felt so loved right from the beginning?
“Hey, Caity-cat, I didn't tell you all that to make you feel bad, okay?” Vi had a sixth sense for her melancholic contemplations. “Piltover isn't the same way because health is basically a guarantee here. The whole ‘miracle of life’ thing seems a lot less miraculous without all the risk. And you worry like it's your second job. I get why you see it differently. But I'm the one who's gonna push this kiddo's big ass head out. There has to be room for what I want, too.”
“Of course,” Caitlyn murmured. Between her upbringing and her naturally rigid way of thinking, making room for difference wasn't easy for Caitlyn. But, for Vi, she would do anything. Fighting her own feelings was the quietest feat love had driven her to, but it was the most important among them.
“I – well –” Caitlyn swallowed hard. “As lovely as all that sounds – and it does sound so, so lovely – I'm still not comfortable with the baby coming here. But I want to be. Even if I can't feel the same way about all of it, I want to try.” Vi deserved that much from her. “I'll start researching … perhaps starting with interviewing some midwives up here …? Of course, they work out of the hospitals, but perhaps some could be convinced …” Her fingers sought out the silken fabric of her nightgown, rhythmically feeling over its pleasing smoothness to ground herself.
Like a brook, Caitlyn continued to babble out possibilities that might help her process and cope. Mumblings mostly for herself, speaking out loud while stimming to help her reluctant brain along. It was a habit she self consciously controlled around others. Not fearing the same judgement from Vi, Caitlyn was her most unmasked self. Piltover's social rules pressed faking acceptance to prevent friction, but she had come to despise the pretense. She knew Vi prized straightforwardness above all, too. It made her more comfortable with telling the truth, even when it was inconvenient. She worked hard to strike a balance between honesty and support.
Caitlyn nearly lost herself in the sea of these new prospects, saved only by her wife pulling her back to the shore of reason. With a soft laugh, Vi reached across the table for her free hand and wound their fingers together.
“Cait, it's okay. This is exactly why I'm bringing it up now.” Vi gestured at the gentle curve of her belly. She'd only just started to show. “I knew you'd need time to think about it. I've always wanted this, y'know? If kids happened for me, I wanted them to happen the way I remembered it. I've had a lifetime. You've had, like, five minutes. We can keep talking about it.”
“I'd like it very much if we did, Violet.” Caitlyn gave Vi a warm, relieved smile and squeezed her hand.
“Well, good, because we've uncovered a thousand more stories I haven't told you! Like – I was there when Ekko was born.”
“Were you really?!” Caitlyn gasped lightly.
“Oh yeah. I barely remember it, buuuut Benzo filled me in on all the delivery room gossip that I couldn't pick up on as a kid. So, get this …”
Vi rolled into an animated, mostly accurate retelling of a family feud that started with a shoddily made baby blanket. Caitlyn was bright eyed and attentive, hanging on her every word. One story turned into a dozen more, each of them slivers of humanity that had never been admired like this.
They spoke of Zaun and its children long into the day.
It was a sermon with an audience of one, no less sacred in its exclusivity.
That kind of magic, the arcane energy that made old memories new again, was the hardest to harness – and they possessed it in abundance.