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Coming to a close of the year, the Winter Fest draws near.
It is that particular season where time itself morphs into a conundrum.
It is both winding down and picking up.
It runs slow and fast. Stretching out and utterly cramming together
Pleasantly warm but also terribly cold.
Fully stepping out of the Medarda House, Mel nudges her knitted maroon scarf up a little higher, protecting the lower half of her face from the wintry chill in the air, trails her hand to smooth the lapels of her winter dress coat before starting her trek.
While her homeland is notorious for how ruthless it can be in nature, winters in Piltover have edged them out in that regard. At this point in her life, she has experienced these weathers far more than Noxian ones and still every year they bite at her cheeks and make her spine stiffen and creak.
The winter season, while admittedly a delight to look at, is less than pleasant to stand in. She would much rather experience it behind large windows or in the confines of her imagination while laying under the sun's rays in search for peace there.
All that aside, one of the many things she does adore about Piltover at the very least is there being little ways of travel from her estate to the downtown square. Call it one of the hubs for some of the best shops of artisanal goods from all over Runeterra to congregate.
Efficiency in present procurement.
On the weekends for the holiday months, the downtown market has gotten increasingly festive with multicolored sparkling lights, music, and displays about. Also seasonal food and drink with names and aromas to pull in passerby with not so subtle seduction.
Fiddling with a small folded up piece of paper in her pocket for the duration of her walk, Mel pulls it out at the precipice of the holiday market and carefully unfolds it. Once, then twice smoothing out the resultant wrinkles.
There is Elora, then Councilors Hoskel, Shoola, Kiramman, Heime—
"Jayce?" His name sinks to the ground more than intended, muffled by her scarf. Tugging it down a hair, she rolls her lips together before trying his name again. Much better. Even underneath the leather flight jacket and heavy plaid scarf, Mel can recognize that stature from anywhere.
The man turns around, offering a wide, kind smile. His cheeks are stained bright red and lips partially chapped, but he gives no indication it is a bother. "Mel! A pleasure!"
"I can only assume you are out here on a similar mission as myself." She takes a half step closer. The crowd in the shopping market is dense and background chatter is making it hard to hold onto Jayce.
"For the Snow Spiral? Mhm, they are pretty good, I heard people would fight over them: a noble pursuit to get their fix in."
Hand to her chest, Mel feigns a gasp. "My, now I cannot imagine Piltover's Golden Boy would go out looking for a fight."
"My career has already proven to be fraught with scandal, I'd say fighting over a dessert would be more than several degrees tamer than being held responsible for an explosion in one of the Kiramman family labs."
Mel hums in subtle appraisal for on that point she cannot disagree. She and everyone in Piltover and beyond are well aware of Mr. Talis and the… theatrics one may stumble across in the pursuit of scientific discovery.
"To clarify, no fights were had— if that was a legitimate concern of yours," he tacks on in a breath.
It wasn't. Even with her serving as his sponsor for his research, it wasn't something she seriously considered. At least with him. Mel eyes the dessert, then the man holding it and smiles. "If it is as good as you make it out to be, I may have to circle back and give it a try."
"Why not right now while you're here?"
Mel raises a brow scoping the crowd behind him. She can't afford to let herself get distracted. Too distracted in the less than productive ways. Despite the day being young, she anticipated it being packed and the lines are…
"I have plenty here if you want to give it a try."
"Jayce I don't—"
"Go on, it's fine." The treat nudges at narrowing the space between them insistently. It emphasizes the texture of the fried dough and enticing grains of cinnamon sugar dusting all over.
Mel lets out a not so quiet huff before taking a piece daintily between her thumb and index finger. Tearing it away slowly releases a thin waft of steam and flakiness present in the spiralized treat. It is still fresh. Wine colored lips form a soft 'o' for light puffs before popping it in her mouth.
"Oh my." A light burst in Mel's eyes while chewing as politely as she could behind fingers covering her mouth.
"I assume you like it?"
She swallows before speaking. "It's delightful."
"I'm glad." Jayce joins in, peeling off a slightly bigger piece for himself. "Feel free to pick off more," he offers between chews.
"No, no, that was plenty kind of you, Jayce."
"The offer still stands for as long as it's here."
"If I get any sugar granules in my scarf, you'll be one to blame."
"I'd gladly accept that," he laughs.
She indulges in another sample not much longer after.
Since work has been winding down, Jayce had the time to take a step back and turn his attention to enjoying the Winter Fest season. Such included treats and brainstorming gifts.
"Do you have some people in mind?"
In that single ask, how smoothly activities for two merge into one. Side by side Jayce and Mel mosey through the marketplace, discovering what goods each vendor sold. While there are more than a handful of regulars that pop up every year, there are always others intermingled in who give fresh variety for each season. A blend of old and new. Routine and novel discovery.
In the spirit of the Winter Fest holiday season, Jayce had been on the hunt for gifts for his lab mates Viktor and Sky. Plus his mother and several other members of his family, of course. While it was primarily him and his mother of the Talis House, they did have some extended family members they would try to stay in contact with, especially for celebrations like holidays and birthdays.
With all that's happened, they are…well, it is what it is.
To their right a grandiose automaton sculpture on a singular wheel rolls around the vicinity of its creator playing jovial holiday music when Jayce asks, "Who are you planning to give gifts for?"
Certainly being someone of her wealth and caliber, there were plenty of people to gift for; the members of The Council, her assistant and dearest friend Elora, her handmaidens who always help prepare her for the work ahead early mornings.
But when he ventures to ask about other members of her family, something in her falters.
Has he ever seen her as so?
"I—"
"Forget I asked," he dismisses the question with a rushed hand wave and chuckle. "I shouldn't have pried. I'm sorry."
"No, you're okay." Her smile was careful. Her brows pinched slightly and she turned her nose up to the sky, eyes narrowed finely as if trying to predict the weather. The clouds were thick, greyed with the season.
Jayce himself wondered if it would snow sometime this year. It usually does, but not much has come of it so far. Only a few flurries for the ground to be coated like a powdered sugar donut.
"I— I'm not, as one may say, close with my family. I haven't been… Not for a long time." Mel is still looking up to the skies, fingers interlocking with one another in front of her as her arms flex and contract in a subtle stretch. She eventually breaks her confession from the clouds to look back at Jayce.
"I'm sure you are aware of the fact I have been on The Council for some time now."
Jayce presses a finger to his ear as if listening in to a not-there earpiece. "We've got breaking news from one Councilor Medarda. She actually does just that. Council. More news coming to you on the Piltover Radio in the next hour."
Such dramatics. "Oh, hush you." There is a soft levity in her eyes, amused crinkles form in the corners. The signature gold accents on her cheeks reflect slightly in the natural light.
"I mean to say it in that before I was the head of the Medarda House, serving as a member of The Council, there was my uncle. Jago."
Jayce tilts his head curiously. Admittedly in his age of twenty-five summers, he hasn't paid too much attention in the realm of politics. He finds his thoughts to be consistently consumed by his independent research and his formal academic studies.
The world of politicking was never something that managed to grasp his interests enough, so… he didn't prioritize it.
And certainly not in the way Mel has in becoming one of the more influential members of the Council. He has her to thank for his life after all.
"My uncle Jago..," Mel continues, "He taught me a lot of what I know. All the while he granted me the opportunities and tools I needed to succeed here."
"Sounds like a halfway decent guy."
Mel's smile is small. It holds for a long second before falling. "Before I was set to turn twenty, he got sick. An illness that ravaged his body in a way even the greatest healers and potions couldn't fix. He passed not long after."
Mel stiffens abruptly, turning her attention down to find Jayce's hand wrapping around hers firmly.
It is a quiet apology. An I'm sorry for your loss.
Hazel eyes widen finding only warm steadiness in his expression. It complements the gold beautifully. Then they slowly relax. "Thank you, Jayce. He was easily one of the closest family members I've had here for a while, but gifts didn't feel the same since. Not like how other people celebrate."
Perhaps it is the family name and tradition or lack thereof.
Perhaps…
Perhaps—
Mel goes quiet for a long time.
Jayce simply watches. Waits and listens. When he ventures to brush a thumb over her hand, she sniffs sharply, returning to herself.
"I apologize for… all of that," she confesses gently. "In any case, it has been some time. I… care for my fellow Council members and they deserve their appreciation. The servants and other help around the Medarda Estate enjoy time with their family as well. I want to make sure they all are able to do so well enough. if I am able to find small gifts such as these, then that may be enough for me."
"If you wish it to be so. You do also deserve to be considered. As you."
At a fair distance in the crowd of the market, there is a fluffy giggle tugging at Jayce's ear. It's by one of those booths for families and couples to capture photographs. A man has, who Jayce can only assume to be the other's lover, pulls them in by the hip for a timely kiss on the cheek.
His brows lift. Ah. A mistletoe.
The couple thanks the person who helped take their photograph. Looking at it between their hands, they share a smashed kiss before moving on to enjoy the rest of their day. A potentially foolish idea crosses Jayce's mind. He teases it for a second. Entertains it.
Mel is holding a neutral expression, but it is evident the gears in her mind are running fast, taking in what is in their vicinity at the market.
"Mel?"
Her attention reverts back to meeting Jayce's eyes. "Hmm, what is it, Jayce?"
What's the worst that could happen? Plenty of things, but Jayce cares not to spiral down those options at this very moment. The peculiar feeling curling in his gut was difficult to ignore. "Now I know it may not be much, but since we continue to find ourselves at the holiday market, how would—"
"Yes," she interjects. "That would be a wonderful thing."
Jayce fails to be subtle about any relief. "I'm glad. Aside from being able to share company, maybe there are some selfish reasons as well."
The confession tempts Mel in raising a brow. "Oh? And pray tell, Mr. Talis?"
"…Maybe you'll see some things that I cannot."
Mel simply hummed.
While the two are still fresh with energy in the early hours and minutes of their excursion, they tackle gift hunting for those of greatest priority. That meant Elora for Mel and Ximena, Jayce's mother. The market hasn't been open for too long yet, and it would be best to find what catches their eye before the rest of the crowd snatches up the limited inventory of what may be available.
In some careful consideration and prying, Jayce settled on a sewing kit of sorts for his mother. Apparently she has always been deft with the needle and did some seamstress work around their house. Usually along the lines of accenting the cloths and clothes they already had. Give them that signature Ximena Talis touch, so to speak. When the opportunity and challenge struck, she did on occasion make dresses. Usually small pompous ones for babies and young children when they were to dress fanciful. She even made one for a distant cousin last spring for her first birthday celebration.
Now Mel hadn't known much of Ximena, other than her outburst in Jayce's trial, but that does seem like a lovely gift. Something with thought and care into what she enjoyed doing.
Two sets of eyes were better than one as they moseyed about the market in their browsing. All the while they made comfortable conversation and careful sips of the hot toddies they picked up along the way. Walking while drinking requires a certain level of effort and care so as to not cause a mess on one's clothing and chin.
Surprisingly, it's proven to be rather difficult to obtain a sewing kit. Already there are not many stands that carry as much and those that do have a few that aren't as comprehensive as Jayce imagined.
His cheeks puff out slightly finding yet another stand not having the exact idea of what he wants for his mother, then they deflate.
One of Mel's hands rests on his chest placatingly and she leans in to the vendors wearing a saccharine smile. It's a sweet-seeming couple selling holiday ornaments and other odds and ends.
A brief exchange later, Mel and Jayce walk away with a receipt for a custom kit that should be ready in a few days.
"I should… I should get her something else, too. A candle, perhaps." Jayce ponders the idea almost to himself. While the sewing kit would be ready before the holiday, at the very least it wouldn't hurt to get something else in case. The market certainly wasn't scarce in such goods. They neared a stand selling seemingly nothing but.
"That sounds like a rather excellent idea. Women always love to feel beautiful. Perfumes, scented oils and candles are but assured safe bets where one cannot go wrong."
Jayce has two in his hands reading over the scent notes. His face slightly scrunched at one before putting it down. "That's something you like, too, yes?"
"Of course! I don't do all of this—" gesturing to her face— "because I hate it," she laughs.
"That makes sense," Jayce murmurs as a researcher running mental math on a string of calculations. Then he turns to Mel brightly. "The effort pays off, by the way." He passes the candle and notes to the vendor for bagging and change.
"You are being quite the gentleman, Mr. Jayce Talis," Mel remarks once they give their thanks and head out for the next item on their lists. It would be for Elora.
The bag resting in the crook of his elbow swings gently in their stride. "No. Only honest."
Now Jayce wasn't too familiar with Elora, having known Mel this close for just shy of a year. He was aware of Elora being Mel's assistant of sorts, always a step or two behind her with a tablet and writing tool, helping keep track of meeting minutes or passing courteous conversation in meetings.
Would she appreciate stationary set? To Jayce he assumed so, however Mel is quick to pivot for something else. A little more intimate or personal.
"When on the search for gifts, what matters is being able to listen. To be able to provide something that says: I am listening. I hear you. I love you. Would she get utility out of that? Certainly. However, it speaks to more of her role and her career."
It is a friendship extending further than boss-assistant relationship, for there are years of foundational trust and understanding. Mel sees Elora as more than her job description.
"I'm sure you have someone like that, yes, Jayce?"
He turns quiet at the query. Does he? He can't say for sure, but that is something he aspires to find with time as well.
"Perhaps something like this?" Mel presents a necklace in front of her chest and neck for Jayce's appraisal. It is a delicate gold chain with a small horse charm dangling from it. The detail is remarkable.
The bag holding the new gift is comically small. Mel keeps it close to her person. "Well, now that we have gotten some of the bigger ticket items, I'd like to say this has been a productive trip so far, wouldn't you say so, Jayce?"
He is inclined to support her claim. "You still would like to get gifts for the other council members, right?"
"And you, perhaps a few others?"
At this time of day, the crowd is holding steady— moderately heavy with some jumbled pockets at the chaos of kids running around, parents giving into the juvenile buzz, and plenty others in between.
An impromptu bump, most assuredly from a small child, at Mel's back starts to set her balance off kilter. A graceless gasp tries to exit her lips, but is quickly extinguished by Jayce's steadying hands. Her palms against his chest break her fall and amidst the slight alarm, the condensing breaths between them are near indistinguishable and—
"Are you alright?"
Mel's swallow is tight. "Fine," she breathes. Back on her own feet she takes a courteous step back. "Thank you."
"Of course."
"Well—" Without missing a beat, Mel levels of certain grace returns to her demeanor. "Shall we?"
The day continues on long and easy.
❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:･*❆ ₊⋆
Mel isn't able to pinpoint exactly how she—how they— got to this point, somewhere between another mulled wine and a cone of popcorn and puzzlement over wrapping, but she is a half step behind Jayce smiling politely as she crosses the threshold to his home.
The foyer is adorned with a couple of paintings and a rack to hand one's outside coats and hats and the like. The space is cast in a warm yellow-orange light, making it particularly cozy and inviting.
"Mama!" Jayce calls further into the home, to the warm light radiating from the dining room area.
"Pardon the intrusion," she says to the air with a steadiness she hopes doesn't come off as empty as she thinks it does.
There are clicks of heels against tiles slowly broaching them from the dining room. "Jayce, sweet, how did— oh my, Councilor Medarda!" Stricken with certain conscientious over their newest guest, Jayce's mother hastily wipes her hands on her apron. For a minute her fingers flutter in deciding on whether to take off the apron or not. Ultimately she decides to keep it on. "It is a pleasure to have your company." She tips her head as a bow quickly. "Was… Is everything alright?"
Mel holds a hand up politely. "Please, Ms. Talis, the formalities are not needed." Watching her straighten her posture and give her son a hug and kiss on the cheek, Mel studies them carefully. She hadn't actively conversed much with the Talis family outside of Jayce and then there was her interruption at the trial—
They really do look very much alike. From the strong brows, prominent nose and kind eyes. Jayce is his mother's son.
"The Winter Fest loves to incur company," Jayce comments simply. He slowly peels off his winter layers, Mel doing the same.
"Pay no mind to the mess," Ximena says. "We are still finalizing decorations around the house and holiday goods."
"Not at all," Mel dismissed, accepting Jayce's offered hand to take her coat. "It is a wonderful home. Such beautiful colors and lights. It is nothing short of inspiring."
"If you come with me, Mel, we can do the wrapping further in here." Jayce takes her by the hand and tugs her closer in to him.
Somewhere in Mel's periphery there is a scratching and clicking sound as a record player transitions to another song. The song is light, the strings and winds carry a sense of whimsy that would seem out of place only in the warmer months of the year.
By proximity Mel has certainly become acquainted with the festive energy that captures Piltover every year. But the tender humming that captures the Talises during the evening as she figures out the gift wrapping process with Jayce makes her nose sting and her chest turn tight and she is overcome with an urgency to quietly ask where their restroom is.
"Down the hall to your right. Are you—"
The rest of his question is left for the ghost of her and the light scent of her perfume.
Orange blossom and blackberries.
❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:･*❆ ₊⋆
That was rude.
She shouldn't have done that.
Perhaps this was a mistake. Maybe she shouldn't have accepted his offer at all. Getting close like this… too close… co-workers or acquaintances or not, it is peering into something she couldn't have. Something she wasn't meant to be a part of. And hasn't been for a long time.
Mel leans her weight back against the bathroom door, working from the top down to fight the curling tension in the finest of muscles in her jaw and features.
Once it felt as if she could smile without her cheeks shattering, Mel leans in over the bathroom sink, confirming nothing at the very least looked out of place.
Her eyes stings at the corners a bit, but a cautious wiping underneath her eyes would do.
Three timid knocks turns Mel's attention from touching up on her makeup to the door in the background of the mirror.
"Um, Mel? It's… it's Jayce. Are you okay? Not feeling well?"
A second to reset her breath and Mel pivots for the door. On the opposite side she finds Jayce standing in a posture so polite. Seeing him check her over with heightened concern induces an unfamiliar swirling in her gut.
"I'm sorry for making you worry… "
His face pinches. "Nothing out of this entire day has warranted an apology from you."
"Don't say that."
"What? The truth? If you want to go home, I won't force you to stay. However, your company has been nothing short of a gift. You don't have to be alone if you don't want to."
The light to the bathroom is flickered off and with a step forward, the door chases Mel's back as she clicks it shut quietly.
Watching her as much, Jayce is silent but stiffens for a moment feeling her hand caress his jaw. The arcing of her thumb across his cheek is delicate, careful.
A step narrows the distance between the two. The warmth of her cheek grazes his other. "Thank you," she whispers, her words pass his ear in a breath, plush lips ghosting the heat of his skin.
Jayce feels his face burn several degrees warmer watching Mel pull back and return to the small pile of gifts half-wrapped. Now he finds himself needing more than a minute.
❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:･*❆ ₊⋆
It is several days after that Jayce finds himself in front of the Medarda Estate. It is the first time he has come to her place. Aside from the day at the Winter Fest market and what followed after, most of their engagements have been within the sanctioned confines of The Academy and like gubernatorial establishments.
He wonders if this would be okay. He probably should have done this before work shut down for the rest of the year, but wandering eyes and nerve had been strong deterrents.
While wandering eyes are no longer a factor, nerves held to linger loudly— the bone-chilling numbness of the cold not enough to quell them entirely and no matter how many times he paces back and forth before the opulent door, the pounding of his heart pulls him to knock at the door.
Gods, now it was officially too late to undo what he's done.
He tucks his hands into his armpits, bouncing up and down with rapid soft bends at the knees. Whether it is to keep himself warm or redirect any apprehension into more productive energy was anyone's guess. He's not waiting long before Mel greets him at the door, surprised to say the least.
Her frame is swallowed by a thick royal green sweater, signature updo she normally wears nowhere to be found in favor of letting dark curls and coils fall free past her shoulders. She still wears her makeup, its style a degree less intricate to what he's used to seeing.
"Jayce, darling, what are you—"
"I know this isn't much, but I didn't want to let the season and break go by without this."
"What do you—" her attention falls from his face to his pits where his hands were tucked, one of them holding a small white and gold paper bag by its gold ribbon handles.
Lips falling to a soft o, Mel doesn't know whether to focus her attention to the gift or Jayce.
"You can open it now, if you'd like."
Past the crinkling of tissue paper, is a box. Thin, but palm sized. Opening it makes her eyes go wide.
"Surely it's not as high-end as the jewelry you're accustomed to wearing, but, um, consider it a way of gratitude. For making the impossible, possible."
The links of the bracelet were small and intricate, metal of gold capable of matching her accessories. A single link holds the tiniest cobalt colored stone, suspended ever so slightly.
Mel's eyes crinkled to a smile. "It looks like we could match. You mind putting it on me?"
Jayce nodded, silently grateful there was residual warmth in his fingers to not impede his dexterity.
When all is said and done, Mel holds her wrist up between them, the gemstone capturing the light it could.
"It looks good on you," Jayce compliments. "What do you think?"
Her hand falls back to her side. "Nothing can compare. I will treasure it."
"I'm glad. In any case, I will leave you to the rest of your break." He tips his head farewell and starts to turn, bound for home.
Until his name on Mel's lips halts him in his tracks.
"Would you care to come inside? Perhaps a warming beverage. It is awfully cold out. I would hate to have you catch a chill on my expense."
Jayce breathes a light smile, expelled air condensing as a cloud. Subtle warmth curls in his gut. "It would be an honor."