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Piltover, right after the battle against Noxus and Viktor’s puppets. In an emergency hospital.
“Where is she? WHERE IS SHE?”
“Ma’am, we need you to remain…”
“WHERE IS SHE?! CAIT! CAIT, I’M HERE!”
“The Commander has been seriously injured; we need to operate…”
“I need to see her! You don’t… You don’t get it! She needs me! I know she needs me!”
“She needs to be dealt with by the doctors!”
“Someone, restrain her!”
“Argh! She broke my nose!!”
“LET ME GO! SHE NEEDS ME! SHE’S MY WIFE! SHE’S MY FUCKING WIFE!”
This story begins on a winter night in Zaun, about two years after the Battle of Piltover.
The opening of a bar on the spot of the former The Last Drop is both an opportunity to party and to celebrate the memory of Vander and what he meant to the city.
That's one of the reasons why the bar's owners invited Vi and her plus one to the opening night.
She speaks to the crowd at the beginning of the night, tears in her eyes as she recalls what Vander accomplished for Zaun and what he dreamed of, sprinkling her speech with amusing anecdotes that make her entire audience laugh, including Caitlyn, who is standing near the bar where her partner is perched.
From time to time, when the emotions become too much, Vi looks into her cerulean eye and smiles slightly, or gives her a little wink. (Caitlyn would like to respond in kind, but it's complicated when you only have one eye.) Vi then takes a deep breath and resumes her speech with renewed vigor.
Caitlyn is absolutely captivated by this vision in pink, red, and black, dressed in leather and satin, boldly combining Zaunite and Piltovian fashions, with much success, if you ask the taller woman.
New tattoos adorn Vi's body, running from her shoulders down to just above her breasts. She explained their meaning to Caitlyn. They are mainly references to Jinx/Powder, to Isha, her little sister for a few days, and to her family in general. But there are also symbols of hope for the future, such as the mapped route of a trip she plans to take later with Cait, from Piltover to the Kiramman's hometown in Ionia. There is also, along her forearm, a shower of those purple flowers that Caitlyn loves and that grow in the garden of their mansion, and of course, tattooed under her left breast, just above her heart, is the name of her lover... But no one else has seen it, not even a tattoo artist: Vi insisted on doing it herself.
Her hair is longer on one side; she keeps the other side shaved. Lately, she likes to tie it up in a high ponytail, which gives her a wild look, especially since she always leaves a few stray strands falling over her beautiful face.
Her muscles, toned by regular exercise and a finally adequate diet, have been on full display since she took off her leather jacket to the cheers of her audience.
For as much as Caitlyn is captivated by Vi and her easy charisma, she can't help but notice that others are devouring her with their eyes. Many others of all genders and races admire Vander's daughter as she does.
Caitlyn is familiar with the green-eyed monster that whispers in her ear whenever her lover attracts attention. She is ashamed of it. She knows that Vi deserves the attention and that she shouldn't blame anybody for being attracted to her. She has no one to blame but herself. And above all, she has no right to control her lover. It is up to her, and her alone, to decide who she wants to spend her time with.
But it's not easy, especially tonight.
Vi is in her element. Vi interacts easily with the people who come up to congratulate her on her speech or share memories with her. She has a history with most of the people here. A suffering that Caitlyn will never understand. A bond that will always elude her.
The Zaunites, in general, don't treat her badly. Sure, she is and always will be a stranger to their city, their culture, and their interests, but she isn't attacked or even insulted. She is kept at a distance but by force of circumstance, not malice.
This isn't Caitlyn's first night in Zaun.
She has accompanied her partner to Ekko's and to Councilor Sevika's on several occasions—for diplomatic reasons only.
But this time, things are different: Caitlyn has no one to talk to. She has no reason to be there other than to accompany Violet, who doesn't need company. She makes friends left and right, accepts drinks from everyone and laughs. She finds herself surrounded by people who understand her completely. People like her: bold, unapologetic, beautiful with an edge... Everything she feels she’s not.
After a few minutes, however, the crowd around Vi begins to disperse. Only a few people remain, including one who is talking animatedly, gesturing wildly and smiling broadly, and whom Vi cannot take her eyes off. Caitlyn's stomach twists as she watches the gorgeous green-eyed blonde who seems to have caught her girlfriend's attention.
She's not just beautiful, Caitlyn realizes, as her heart sinks, but she seems perfect for Vi. They share the same sensuality, the same effortless sex appeal, but the blonde also exudes a femininity and gentleness that the angular, direct Piltovian lacks. And that would certainly match the star of the event.
“You the Commander?” she hears behind her. She turns around to see a group of teenagers between the ages of fourteen and sixteen staring at her with a strange mixture of respect and disdain.
“Sheriff,” she corrects them neutrally. She doesn't want to sound too proud of her rank, nor ashamed of it.
“Do you work with Zaunites?”
“Indeed, I do,” she replies calmly but with a hint of reserve.
“They put Pilties in jail?” An almost hungry gleam lights up in the teenagers' eyes. Caitlyn understands their anger and their desire for revenge. But seeing it expressed in such young people still unsettles her.
“Yes, that happens,” she replies. “No one is above the law. Not anymore,” she adds, even though she knows full well that it probably sounds like empty words to them.
“My brother went to the Academy with her,” the boy with a green mohawk in the center explains, pointing his chin at Vi. She is still deep in conversation with the blonde, who is leaning closer and closer to her. “He told me she got a promotion right out of the Academy because she's married to the Commander, and...”
“Sheriff,” Caitlyn interrupts, perhaps a little too sharply. “That's not true. She earned that rank because she was by far the best in her class. And she's not...”
She stops when she sees Vi put a hand on the blonde's shoulder.
“She's not what?” another teenager in the group asks eagerly. Caitlyn, who had momentarily forgotten their presence, struggles to focus on her train of thought.
“She's not...” she repeats mechanically as the memory of Vi joining her team comes back to her.
A year ago.
New graduates of the Piltover and Zaun Police Academy are invited to visit the police station where they will be working starting the next day.
Of course, Vi has been assigned to the central station. Not because Caitlyn requested it, but because she is the valedictorian of her class, and it was her first and only choice.
From her office on the upper floor of the building, the Sheriff hears the clamor rising from the entrance. The new recruits are here.
People may expect her to come and welcome them herself, but she doesn't want to risk making her partner uncomfortable.
She's not stupid: even though Vi has never complained to her, she knows that she had to deal with nasty comments and conduct toward her because of her relationship with Caitlyn.
The taller woman doesn't want to risk preventing the Zaunite from fitting in with her team, so she's decided to keep a low profile today to avoid putting Vi in an awkward situation.
But that doesn't mean she is not proud of her!
Vi studied hard and pushed herself to the limit to achieve excellent results. It wasn't just her strength and boxing skills that set her apart from the other recruits, but also her ability to adapt and interact in all kinds of environments, as well as her precise knowledge of the law—almost as exact as Caitlyn's!
It's an honor to work alongside such a warden, and Caitlyn does not doubt that everyone at the station will soon realize this and stop seeing her as the boss's girlfriend...
She hears a knock at the door; her assistant appears.
“Sheriff?” he asks in that slightly fearful tone that both irks and tugs at the heart of Caitlyn. “The recruits are asking when they'll be seeing you.”
Recruits asking to see their boss? That's new!
Caitlyn clears her throat.
“I thought I'd let them explore the station first,” she explains, a little surprised and eager to allow Vi some time to herself. “Meet their future colleagues, exchange their first bits of gossip, some of which will surely be about me,” she adds with a slight smile.
A muffled laugh answers her. It's the assistant who stops as soon as he sees the stern look on Caitlyn's face.
“It's already started, Chief,” he explains, now nervous again. “A recruit is saying that she's married to you.”
What the hell?
Without a word, Caitlyn walks toward the door, and her assistant steps back fearfully until she clears the way completely. There she stands at the top of the stairs, just above the recruits, and she doesn't even have time to spot Vi before she hears her beloved voice.
“Cupcake!”
Caitlyn watches, dumbfounded, as her girlfriend, who fought to get her job, who owes her nothing, who has the opportunity to make friends at work, rushes over to her and wraps her in a warm, tender hug.
“I've been dreaming of doing this for months,” she says, stepping back slightly to rest her forehead against Caitlyn's.
Composed as she is, the navy-haired young woman can't help but give her a fond smile.
“I was looking forward to it too, Vi,” she murmurs just loud enough for her lover to hear. “I'm very, very proud of you.”
Vi kisses her on the lips and turns to the other recruits who are watching them, not all that surprised.
“And there she is: Sheriff Kiramman!” she brays, radiating joy. "The responsible Kiramman. If, in the future, you hear of a Kiramman who fucked up something, it'll be me. I had to make that clear!"
The entire precinct seems amused by this introduction, and the recruits come over one by one to shake Caitlyn's hand.
“Pleased to meet you,” says one of them, “Lamia Lane,” indicating her badge. A common name for Zaunites who typically don't have a surname but are required to acquire one when they join the police force.
“Vi's been harping on about her wife since we started training!” says the next recruit, whose name is clearly Piltovian. “I've seen you before, but it's mind-blowing to meet you in person!”
Caitlyn observes the wardens in the station: most of them are from Piltover. Unlike the Zaunites, most of them already knew the customs, history, and some of the laws of their city from school. She also knows that some of these wardens do not welcome the arrival of their Zaunite colleagues, whom they consider barbarians.
That's probably why Vi first chose to take Caitlyn's name and now introduces her as her wife. It shows that all citizens are equal, regardless of their origin, whether they come from the lower or upper city, the nobility or the working class, or whether they are a sheriff or a junior officer.
It should humble some old-fashioned Pilties and uplift the new Zaunite wardens.
‘Good thinking, sweetheart,’ Caitlyn thinks as she observes Vi already looking fierce and focused and every bit the distinguished officer who soon will serve the people.
That’s not very honest or very legal, but what the hell? It’s not as if they’re committing a crime by claiming they’re married when they’re not.
Granted, in Piltover, marriage is kind of a big deal.
You don’t simply marry on a whim. You must gather authorization from the elders in both families, an official estimation of both parties’ assets, and various scenarios of partition of said assets in case you get divorced. Then, the union must be judged as ‘viable’ by the Councilor in charge of Family Matters and officially approved.
Technically, it would be very easy to tell that Vi is lying. But Caitlyn doesn’t care: they can always say that in Zaunite tradition, marriage is just a figure of speech, and Vi didn’t know better. After all, Caitlyn has met married people in Zaun, but she’s never heard of any ceremonies, contracts, rings, or anything else that makes the union tangible.
And sometime in the future, when Vi doesn’t need to introduce herself around anymore, and Caitlyn actually proposes to her, she’ll tell Vi about her harmless misunderstanding, and they’ll both laugh about it.
It’s not that serious.
“She's not...”
Caitlyn doesn't finish her sentence. Her brain short-circuited when she saw Vi place her other hand on the blonde's upper arm as she leaned toward her.
She leaves the teenagers watching her as if she were crazy and tries her best to get closer to her girlfriend despite the dense crowd between them.
She has a hard time reaching them. People step on her feet and jostle her, but Caitlyn doesn't even react, focused as she is on the exchange between the two women at the other end of the room.
It's not that she thinks Vi would cheat on her.
No, Vi is far too loyal and honest for that.
That's not what alarms Caitlyn.
What she wants to know is if there's any chance that Vi might like this woman.
She's so different from Caitlyn, and the Sheriff feels particularly uncomfortable tonight, wondering, as she often does, if Vi wouldn't be better off with people from her own culture, who understand her completely and don't constantly make blunders when talking about their spoiled childhoods or their families who are still alive...
People who are not only beautiful but also creative, artistic, and with an edge. Like Vi.
Her own edge has been filed away by her upbringing and twenty-six years of living in Piltover's high society.
She wonders if, like at the police station, she is forced to adapt every day to be with Caitlyn.
To change.
Can Caitlyn make her laugh like the blonde is making Vi laugh right now? She’s not sure.
“I’d like to see that!” Vi exclaims after bursting out laughing.
Caitlyn can only see her from the side, but her tone is light. She seems relaxed. Her heart sinks a little.
“I could show it to you one of these nights,” the blonde replies in a slightly high-pitched, sweetly piquant, truly charming voice. “Or even now, if you're ready to leave this party.”
“I told you, I'm not leaving this party without my wife.”
Caitlyn holds her breath.
She's not visible behind the tall guy with a pitcher of beer, filling the pints of customers crowding around him.
She hadn't intended to hide at first.
But if the terrain spontaneously offers her the tactical advantage of listening to the conversation discreetly, she gladly seizes the opportunity.
“We can ask your girlfriend to come with us if you like,” the blonde replies without missing a beat. Vi snorts.
“See your motorcycle?” she asks, unconvinced. Caitlyn can easily imagine the smirk on her heart-shaped lips and her raised scarred eyebrow. “I can assure you she's not interested.”
“But maybe she'd like the driver, then? What do you think?” The blonde's voice becomes deeper, more seductive. Caitlyn dares to lean over to look at the two women and realizes that she was mistaken earlier: Vi's hands, resting on the other woman's shoulder and arm, are keeping her at a distance. It's not flirty. It's not even friendly anymore.
“I don't think it would matter,” Vi replies, her tone now colder. “I don't share my wife. Maybe you missed it the last ten times I mentioned it, but she's not my girlfriend. She's my wife.”
The blonde takes a step back, but not completely. She isn't deterred. She tucks a pink strand of hair behind Vi's ear. The rebellious strand slips out and falls back into place immediately, and Caitlyn almost scoffs at the sight.
“Too bad,” she simpers. “She's quite sexy, that girlfriend of yours.”
“Wife.”
“Come on, Vi, don't get mad, you know I'm just teasing...”
The two women resume their conversation in a friendly manner, and Caitlyn, relieved and even flattered, leaves, pushing her way through the crowd with at least as much grace and efficiency as she did on her way.
She carefully avoids the group of teenagers who have remained in the same spot and manages to extricate herself from the crowd to step out onto the small terrace at the back of the bar.
It's cold enough that there are only a few people there.
Just as well. She needs to be alone.
Leaning against the wooden railing, she can see the Hextower and the Piltover Council between two buildings.
It’s close, yet inaccessible, like the rest of the riches of the upper city.
Caitlyn can easily imagine the resentment Vi must have felt as a teenager with no other prospects.
Their childhoods were so different that it's almost a miracle they get along today. However, the Piltovian wonders if there are Zaunite customs and rules she is unaware of that could affect their relationship.
Like Vi's obsession with calling Caitlyn “her wife.”
At first, Caitlyn thought it was a harmless ploy to stay in her room as long as she wanted while the navy-haired woman was in the hospital. Her father almost had a heart attack upon hearing her use their name, but it was soon forgotten after she was taken to the mansion, and Vi no longer had to identify herself every time she entered a room.
After that, Vi continued to call Caitlyn her wife sporadically: when she spoke to a merchant or when an angry passerby dared to insult Caitlyn on the street (there were more of them in Piltover than in Zaun, blaming her for breaking the alliance with Ambessa and for the battle).
Caitlyn thought it was cute. Vi wasn't a particularly possessive person... unlike her. So, she saw the term “wife” as a slight exception to the rule.
Then, it was time for Vi to attend the Academy, where students were required to have a family name.
Caitlyn had discussed with Vi what name she would have chosen if the Zaunites also had surnames. She had thought of “Axle,” referring to the smell of axle grease that clung to her parents' clothes.
She said that would probably have been what Powder would have chosen. She, on the other hand, was inclined to favor “Vander,” in honor of the man who had taught her so much and protected her so well.
So, Caitlyn had the name “Violet Vander” embroidered on her warden's uniform, thinking that would be what her girlfriend would choose.
Imagine her surprise when, on registration day, Vi signed as “Violet Kiramman” without hesitation, as if it had always been her name!
The recruiting sergeant looked suspiciously at Vi, then at Caitlyn, and asked for her identity papers.
Caitlyn's blood boiled: he hadn't asked anyone else to produce any form of identification!
But Vi turned to her, confused, not knowing what he was talking about: in Zaun, there are no such administrative documents. There are sales contracts and property deeds, but no birth certificates or passports are available.
Caitlyn reassured her, saying she would bring the documents later that day.
That day, Caitlyn rushed to the courthouse to have the name change from “Violet” to “Violet Kiramman” officially recorded.
Being the matriarch of the family, she had no trouble presenting it as an adoption. Vi was now legally considered a cousin of sorts, but that didn't matter. She proudly presented the documents to the recruiting officer at the Academy and also informed him of his reassignment to one of the Zaun stations alongside many Zaunite wardens.
She also terrified the seamstress into embroidering a new uniform with her lover's new name in less than a day.
Vi never knew anything about it.
Each time, Caitlyn had seen Vi using their ‘marriage’ as nothing more than the result of Piltover's administrative difficulties, which could never be satisfied with a single individual and always demanded a pedigree, even when it was completely unnecessary.
She had never thought about what this meant for Vi.
No.
She didn't want to think about it.
Why?
Simply because she liked being Vi's wife.
She liked hearing the word “wife” because of the permanence it implied, the certainty of an eternity together it meant.
She didn't want her usually pragmatic girlfriend to realize her mistake and laughingly remind her that they had only been together for two years and that maybe they shouldn't get too carried away.
But is it more serious than that?
“You gonna catch a cold if you stay there,” she hears behind her.
Ekko is standing there, nursing a blue cocktail she guesses is non-alcoholic -that man has no vice, it seems.
He looks sharp in his dark green ensemble. He still looks evidently Zaunite, with his white hourglass-shaped symbol painted on his face and the multitude of beaded necklaces and charms he sports here and there.
Caitlyn likes him. He’s brilliant, good-hearted, works hard for the good of his people, and he briefly knew Jayce. Also, he loves and knows Vi well. He’s like a bridge between two worlds.
“Ekko,” Caitlyn greets him with a tense smile. “How are you doing?”
He snorts and steps forward until he stands right next to her, his eyes set on the HexTower.
“Doing small talk, now, Sheriff?” he jokes. “Doesn’t sound like you. Should I worry?”
Caitlyn smiles. Both are bad small talkers. But then she frowns. Ekko notices it.
“Something bothering you?” he asks. Caitlyn hesitates.
“How… how do people get married in Zaun?” she asks, her voice low. Ekko chuckles.
“They don’t,” he answers. “Not with a big ceremony and a puffy dress like your folks do. People just… decide they’re married. And that’s it.”
Caitlyn doesn’t know if she’s relieved or if she's crushingly disappointed.
“So… not a big deal?”
Ekko gives her a look. The look that says, “You’re an idiot.”
“You, Pilties…” he laments with a mocking smirk. “You think because there are no trumpets or big events, things don’t matter. Marriage is a big deal. Much bigger than in Piltover, I’d argue. But instead of asking for permission to love each other from tens of strangers, we make a vow to each other. Simple as that.”
Caitlyn nods pensively.
“So, I suppose you discuss it with your companion and make the decision together at some point?”
“Nah!” the young man laughs. “See? Piltie through and through! It’s not a contract! It’s a vow. A vow you make to the person you love. One day, you look at that person, and you decide: This is the person I will spend the rest of my life with. You don’t have to decide that at the same time.”
“So people are not married to each other at the same time?” Ekko nods.
“Nope!” he confirms. Caitlyn sees that he has a dangerous twinkle in his eyes. “You should know: Vi’s been married to you for years already! And I figure you just got married to her?”
Caitlyn’s eye widens, but she doesn’t respond.
Ekko laughs even more.
“Come on,” he says, “get inside. I bet my drink that your wife is looking for you at the moment.”
There is true warmth in his tone and his words as if he’s really happy for them. But under all that, Caitlyn perceives something sadder—a longing.
“Are you married, too?” she asks, and instead of mocking her, Ekko gets quieter.
“No, I’m not,” he murmurs.
“But you thought about it…”
He looks at the Hexgates again.
“Yeah, all the time,” he admits after some silence.
Then, he just walks back to the party.
“Wait!” Caitlyn calls him. “Why did you say marriage is a bigger deal in Zaun rather than in Piltover?” she asks. A sly smirk replaces the sad expression on Ekko’s face.
“We don’t divorce, don’t even know about this concept,” he says. “Congratulations!”
Later that night, when Vi and Caitlyn walk back to the mansion hand in hand, the taller woman can’t help but ogle the redhead: her profile (she loves that nose of hers!), her eyes, her messy ponytail, the Kiramman symbol dangling from her ear, her muscles…
Vi catches her mid-inspection.
“Something on your mind, Cupcake?” she asks with a teasing smile.
“I was just thinking that I have the most stunning wife in all Runeterra,” she answers with a smile of her own.
Time passes, and Caitlyn grows more and more appreciative of her marriage to Vi.
Now, when she talks about her, Caitlyn likes to say “my wife” rather than “Lieutenant Kiramman” or even just “Vi.”
They move forward together.
They renovate the estate in their spare time, trying to make some parts of the mansion less pompous and more suited to their lifestyle.
They adopt a hideously ugly mutt they love with their whole heart, and call it ‘Muffin’ (Vi’s idea, obviously).
They book some time off and finally prepare for their trip to Tevasa, starting with securing their tickets for the airship leaving from Piltover. (Caitlyn spent hours choosing the best airship available, and Vi listened with interest to her detailed explanations of each model.)
Also, Caitlyn explained her marital situation to a delighted Tobias: over the past two years, he developed a deep affection for his “dear Violet,” and he's happy to spread a rumor in the high society that his daughter and his wonderful daughter-in-law secretly tied the knot over a year ago.
She has her assets appraised, contacts the Council, and slowly but surely gathers all the documents needed to formalize their marriage.
She doesn't know yet whether she should explain the situation to Vi or sort things out behind her back.
After all, maybe she wouldn't care much about Piltovian customs? Caitlyn, in any case, doesn't think much of it anymore.
Caitlyn gets her answer one spring evening when they’re forced to attend a reception at the home of a wealthy shipowner in town.
Vi looks once again delightful and scandalous in her maroon ensemble, featuring a simple black bandeau under her tailored jacket. This time, her hair is down, but the makeup is oh so dark and daring, and when she turns to smile at Caitlyn, the navy-haired sheriff can’t help but think she looks downright edible.
She knows the redhead feels the same, as her breathing gets shallower every time her eyes fall upon her, detailing her from her face to her lower back, where her long, blue hair now lands.
She kisses her wife -she called her so at least five times already, in front of different people- and waltzes to the closest waiter to grab another glass of champagne.
Caitlyn admires her openly.
The taller woman is so awkward in Zaun, where most people are generally friendly to her, even though they have nothing to talk about. Yet Vi is capable of discussing with even the most prejudiced old fart from Piltover.
That’s what she does now, joking with Leto, their horrible host, a man so proud and so vain that Caitlyn can’t stand his sheer presence. At some point, Vi points to her, and her interlocutor certainly has an interesting expression on his face.
Caitlyn cringes inwardly: despite Tobias’s best efforts, it is difficult for the Piltovian nobility to believe in her union with Vi. A secret ceremony? Without even the Kirammans from Ionia? Without the Councilors?
Without documents to attest to it?
It’s all too easy for the people in the room to check if there is a marriage license in their name at the Town Hall. And since the union of the wealthiest heiress of Piltover is a matter of public interest, some might seek to investigate.
Caitlyn takes a deep breath: only a few days to go, and she’ll talk to Vi.
Maybe tonight, even.
Yet Vi’s mood shifts at some point during the night, and she’s worryingly silent on their ride back to their mansion.
Caitlyn doesn’t push her. She knows that sometimes, a word, an object, or a detail can trigger a memory and make Vi think of her sister or her brothers. She doesn’t want to force her to talk about it if she’s not ready.
She will open up in time.
And open up, she does, after about an hour of complete silence, when they’re lying in their bed.
“You know the host’s son, Leto?” Vi’s voice breaks the silence of the night.
“Yes?” she mumbles sleepily. “What about him?”
“He showed me pictures. Of his wedding.”
Caitlyn’s blood runs cold.
Suddenly, she feels very much awake.
“We’re not really married… right?” Vi’s voice has a dark tone, the likes of which Caitlyn seldom heard before.
“Darling…”
“We never had a wedding,” Vi goes on. “We don’t wear rings. We didn’t sign any papers.” Her voice gets shakier by the second, and Caitlyn has no idea if it’s because she’s sad or angry. Unexpectedly, the Zaunite turns to her and looks her right in the eye. “We’ve never been anywhere close to being married by Piltover’s standards. By your standards, Cait. I kept… rambling like a fool about my wife, and everybody knew I was just delusional.” Caitlyn’s heart is crushed under the guilt. She’s been such a coward… She tries to caress Vi’s face, but the redhead flinches away from her hand. “It’s fine! It’s okay. I don’t mind,” she says too fast. “It’s just… Next time I get carried away, stop me there, okay? Tell me the truth.” And she turns to lie on her back, closing her eyes as if the conversation was closed and she was going to sleep.
Caitlyn is so glad for the two years they’ve spent together since the battle against Noxus. Because before that, she might not have seen through Vi’s apparent detachment. But she sees it now, even with just one eye, in the darkness of their room: she’s hurt.
And it’s so uncharacteristic of her.
She laughs at most Piltovian conventions. She can’t help making sly comments about how rigid and contractual Caitlyn’s society is. She didn’t even see the point of getting a ceremony when she was officially appointed as an officer at work, even though she worked hard to pass the exams to get there.
But maybe it’s because, like so often with Vi, everything seems more important to her when it comes to Caitlyn.
And the blue-haired woman understands it because she feels the same way regarding everything Vi. She’s more important than anything.
So important that she could lie for her.
To her.
Just a little.
Not for long.
Just enough to soothe that heart she adores.
“We’re married, Violet,” she says, her voice and gaze soft.
Vi doesn’t even dignify her with a response.
“You have my name,” she explains. “It’s on your diploma, your badge, and all of your documents.” The shorter woman doesn’t move, but she opens her eyes. Caitlyn takes the hand that is resting on her stomach. “We don’t wear rings because you fight with your fists, and you’d have to take yours off all the time. Nevertheless…” Her hand reaches up to Vi’s left ear, and she gently turns her face toward her. “… we wear matching earrings. The Kiramman emblem for you, the gear tattooed on your neck for me. It’s unconventional, but it’s much more meaningful than plain rings, don’t you think?” Vi nods slowly, even though her expression is still slightly guarded. “I didn’t offer to have a ceremony because, in general, people invite their friends and family and…”
She doesn’t need to finish her sentence. Vi takes her hand and squeezes it comfortingly. They lost most of their families and friends. Granted, they made some during the last few months, but the holes left by their loved ones are still too big for them to celebrate anything in their absence.
Caitlyn scouts closer to the Zaunite and brings their foreheads together.
“We’re married, sweetheart. We’ve been for quite some time,” she whispers. And she smiles because she feels in her heart that it’s true. Yes, the administration of Piltover may not be aware of that yet, but Caitlyn has never been overly concerned with paperwork.
“Since the bunker?” Vi asks tentatively, and she makes those eyes. The large puppy eyes full of hope she showed for the first time in this room, on this very bed, that last morning that Cassandra was alive. Caitlyn nods, and her darling slowly, softly kisses her. “I thought so,” she murmurs as she gathers the Piltovian in her arms.
“For you, too?” Caitlyn asks, her voice a little muffled in Vi’s strong embrace.
She knows the answer by the beat of silence that precedes it. A beat too long.
“No… A little while before, for me,” Vi says, tightening her hold even more. “So, we really are married? Officially?” she asks quickly, in a not-too-subtle maneuver to change the subject.
Cait stops breathing for a second and confirms.
This is not a lie. Not entirely. It won’t be for long, anyway.
They say nothing and stay cuddled up, Vi’s body covering Caitlyn’s, breathing softly, listening to the beating of each other’s hearts. Finally, the Piltovian hears her partner blow a shaky breath.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Vi answers, but her voice is a little raspier than usual. One minute, maybe two minutes pass. “I’m relieved. I think… I really needed you to be my wife, y’know?”
Caitlyn strokes her muscular back, drawing little circles with her thumb, reveling in the feeling of the muscles first hardening and then melting under her touch. Vi’s confession brings tears to her eyes, not only because she understands what she means by that but also because she knows how much it cost Vi to be this open. How big of a show of trust it is.
She, too, needs Vi to be her wife. She needs Vi to be someone with whom she doesn’t have to pretend to be something she’s not. Someone who accepts her unconditionally, even when she’s tired, even when she’s depressed, even when she’s not exactly who she usually is, even when she’s small.
And, coincidentally, Vi makes herself so small in Caitlyn’s arms, in contrast to the strong and tough woman everybody knows and respects (or fears).
Caitlyn loves this. She loves taking care of Vi. She loves finally being the one to be trusted, the one who protects.
She caresses the fiery hair under her hand and lightly scratches the shaved side, earning a low grunt of satisfaction from her now sleepy partner.
“To be frank,” Caitlyn says, as she feels Vi’s muscles relax as she gets closer and closer to falling asleep, “I need you to be my wife, too. I need to know for sure that this bond we have is truly unique. I need to know that you chose me just as much as I chose you. Always have. Always will”
This is as good as any wedding vows she could have come up with, Caitlyn decides, and Vi tightening her hold on her and kissing the skin above her heart with a slurred “m’ baby…” seems to indicate that it’s good enough for her, too.
The next day, when Caitlyn delivers the backdated marriage papers to the courthouse, she argues that she and Vi had been so busy fighting crime in Piltover that they hadn't had a moment to bring the documents in on time.
Usually, her name would be enough to convince the clerk to overlook this unconvincing story, but this time Caitlyn doesn't even need to rely on her privilege: like many other residents of the city, the little man who receives the papers believes that the two women were indeed married several months ago in a private ceremony. He had heard some gossip about it.
As the clerk checks that no forms are missing, Caitlyn sees Vi's signature, which she has forged. It is so bad that she has trouble suppressing giggles.
Jayce's counterfeit signature on the document requesting Vi's release from Stillwater was also incredibly botched and bore no resemblance to the Talis stamp.
So what if Caitlyn is not very good at counterfeiting signatures? In the end, she always gets what she wants. And what she wants is Vi.
She has yet to erase her smug grin from her face when she gets to the precinct later that morning, and Vi, blissfully unaware of the criminal activities of her wife, rushes to hug her long and tight in front of all the other wardens the way she always does.