You waited for her inevitable fury.
By the time you rushed through camp into Sevika's office—Caitlyn slung over your back like a sack of potatoes—your baffling return had spread like wildfire amongst all, and Grayson arrived mere seconds later with thunder on her face. But all it took was the body-cam footage and an unrepentant, maddeningly mute Caitlyn for them to understand your drastic decision. Grayson admonished Caitlyn sternly, much to your barely concealed delight, and in private, after it was all said and done, thanked you for ensuring Caitlyn's safety.
You thought her fury would come then. But there was no time. There was work to do.
In two days, the combined forces planned and executed a near flawless ambush for the Noxian's ambush. Their stockpile was properly destroyed, their forces once again depleted, and another two sections of the city regained.
A triumph.
But the whole time, you waited. There had been no opportunity for Caitlyn to come at you—all commanding officers worked nearly all day and night in close contact with others; and in the ambush itself, Maddie and Steb dogged Caitlyn's every step, unquestionably ordered by Grayson to watch over her.
But every time you were in her vicinity, furious, icy blue eyes pierced you without fail. You knew there would be a reckoning. It was only a matter of when.
Then one evening, as you made your way back to the barracks after meeting with Sevika and Ekko, Caitlyn emerged from the shadows to drag you into a side alley, slamming you up against the wall with her hands fisted around your collar.
As always, you were surprised by her strength. But this was a retaliation long expected.
Her eyes were as hard as fortified hexores. "Don't you ever do that again," she spat between clenched teeth. A lock of hair fell to her cheek as she leaned towards you. "I will—"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you said, shrugging her off forcefully. "I do not regret doing it and I would do it again. Like it or not, Major Kiramman, you're imperative to this war in more ways than you think." You rubbed your bruised collarbone, and was surprised to see concern flit across her face at the action, replaced quickly by anger again when she met your eyes.
"It is disrespect and assault of a senior officer—"
"And do you see me punished for it?" you shot back.
"Grayson may have overlooked it this time, but next time I will see to it you are appropriately punished. Even if I have to do it myself."
"Oooh. Scary. Whatever." You turned to go, suddenly tired of everything, and especially Caitlyn Kiramman.
"Why do you care so much?"
Her barely whispered question hung in the still of the night, occasionally broken by distant gunfire and a burst of laughter or shouting.
Slowly, you turned to face her. She was hugging her arms, staring at you with a kind of bewilderment, and underneath, apprehension. "You don't know me," she said, very softly. "My House has hurt your people. You don't want to have sex with me. What is it that you want from me? Some kind of reparations, financial compensation? A say in Piltover's new government?"
Something inside you broke a little at that. At the inkling of the life she must have led, always about what others might want from her, how useful she could be to them.
"I don't want anything from you," you said. "I want for you to live."
"But why? Why do you care?"
"Because I understand." Grayson's private words echoed in your head—she blames herself for the war, thinks she caused the deaths and destruction; she will probably never forgive herself, even if unwarranted. You understood that. Knew what it was like to carry guilt so deep, so ugly, it turned you inside out and coloured your world grey.
So you swallowed the knot in your throat, and said, "I know you want vengeance. To make up for what you think is your fault. Only then might you be able to feel okay again. But you've lost yourself along the way. And maybe you think that doesn't matter, because you've already lost so much, that there is nothing but vengeance to live for. But there will be something to live for again. Something you will want to live for again." Tentatively, you took a small step closer to her. "You just have to live long enough to see the day."
Your gazes held for a long while.
For the first time, in those beautiful blue eyes, there was no anger, no self-righteousness, only wary curiosity and a kind of strangled hope, as though hope was not something she thought she could have again until the possibility had been presented.
"To new friendship! Ah—"
Three soldiers—two Piltovans, one Zaunite—crashed into each other at the entry to the alley. Flushed cheeks, unsteady gait, wine bottles in hand. With widening eyes, they stared at you and Caitlyn, the small distance between your bodies, hidden away in a secluded and dark alley, and you knew at once what they would think. Your stomach grew hot.
"A—Apologies, M—Major Kiramman, Captain Violet!" They stammered together.
"Relax," you said, spreading your hands out. "You weren't interrupting anything."
The scepticism of their faces said it all. "We—we'll leave now!" And they did, scurrying away with the excitement of mice unexpectedly finding a treasure trove of cheese.
You sighed. This would be bad. Best to go.
"Ah, well." You turned back to Caitlyn, hoping your cheeks weren't as hot as what your stomach felt. But she wasn't looking at you anyway, seemingly lost in her thoughts. "I'm going to rest. Goodnight, Major Kiramman."
And as you turned away—the soft flutter of her voice. "Call me Caitlyn," she murmured.
You paused. Then nodded. "Well, then call me Vi."
She nodded. "Goodnight… Vi."
"Goodnight… Caitlyn."
And this time you finally left, the warmth in your stomach radiating through your body and uncomfortable in ways you didn't want to decipher.
By the end of the week, the rumours were rife.
"—they were fucking like rabbits without a care who saw in the alley!"
"I heard she's taken at least ten soldiers to bed already… When will it be my turn?"
"—if it has to be a Zaunite then Captain Violet is the only one hot enough for her."
"Captain Violet's been single like forever! Thought she a virgin but I guess she just wanted some Piltovan pus—"
"—heard that Major Kiramman rejected the Noxian Prince because she's childhood sweethearts with Captain Violet—"
This last rumour had you nearly spitting out your rice and tuna. You'd heard many things said about you your whole life. Ridiculous rumours were par for the course when your parents were respected Zaunite leaders and your adopted father was President of Zaun. Not to mention your young age and pivotal role in the first peacekeeping force of Zaun. But with the "optics" of you and Caitlyn, a professional duo enjoyed by soldiers as well as the general population, a possible romance was terrifyingly sensational.
You stuffed another bite of food into your mouth. Even escaping to the canals that carved through Piltover City provided no respite. People paid no heed to their volume when whispering behind your back, and you could hear their gossiping even sitting down on the grass bank by the still, turquoise water.
"There you are!" Mylo and Claggor descended the steps down towards you with dinner in hand. The setting sun cast them in an orange light, their faces battle weary but carrying a hint of mischief.
"I thought you were off sucking face with Caitlyn Kiramman somewhere in another sexy dark alleyway," Mylo said, grinning.
"Oh, shut up."
Mylo let out a cackle, and sat down on your right while Claggor lumbered to your left. These two had been with you ever since your parents all died in the miner's rebellion, and they were in the circle of people you'd do anything for. You bumped Mylo in the shoulder in greeting, then ruffled Claggor's hair.
"Just kidding," Mylo said, opening his dinner box. "As if you would ever hook up with a Kiramman."
"Yeah," Claggor agreed. "She's way out of your league."
"What? No, numbnuts!" Mylo leaned across you to throw a stone at Claggor. "She's our enemy, remember? Her House, her parents, killed our parents!"
Unease scraped at your insides. You took another bite of food so as to not say anything.
"It's not like she had anything to do with it," Claggor replied, mouth also full of food. "She was our age when it happened."
Mylo glared at him. "Who the fuck cares? Whether she had a hand in it doesn't matter—she's a Kiramman! The Head of House Kiramman. They've exploited Zaun's resources for decades and killed our families. The apple wouldn't fall far from the tree. Right, Vi?"
"I don't want to talk about that," was all you said.
Now Claggor threw a stone at Mylo. "Idiot," he mumbled under his breath.
Idiot was right. Mylo always had a way of saying the stupidest thing. You set down your dinner, appetite gone.
Because Mylo was right.
House Kiramman was your enemy, the dark cloud over your entire life, over Zaun. So much animosity from Zaun towards Piltover stemmed from House Kiramman. As longtime rulers—then Councillors—of Piltover, they were responsible for Piltover's recurrent invasions against Zaun, their greed for the hexores in Zaun territory overpowering any decency or respect towards Zaunites and their independence. Sure, Caitlyn may not have been a part of that, but she was now the Head of House Kiramman, and until she actually did anything different about House Kiramman's interests, she was still a Kiramman.
And yet, you couldn't help the strange mix of feelings that she inspired within you. Hatred—at her parents, House Kiramman. Anger—at her stubbornness, her reckless actions in the war. Sympathy—for all the assumptions people made about her. Empathy—for the undeserved guilt she carried, her desperate need for vengeance.
(And deep, deep, deep down, an inexplicable something that felt appallingly like desire.)
"Hello?" Mylo sliced through the fog in your mind. "What's up with you?"
"Nothing," you said quickly.
It had to be nothing anyway.
You might not know what you felt about Caitlyn Kiramman, but what you did know was that you should not be feeling anything at all for Caitlyn Kiramman. Not on a nice evening with your best friends in a rare moment of peace in the ongoing war. So you focused on them, on the outside, not on the inside, and hoped that with continued distance from her, facilitated by your separate roles in the army, these feelings would fade in time.
"You're to accompany Major Kiramman in the Kiramman tunnels tomorrow," Sevika said, learning back against her office chair with an almost goading lift of her brow.
"What? I went with her last time!" you burst out, slightly alarmed to hear the panic in your voice. "I thought ever since the warehouse incident you and Grayson loosened the rules on who could go with her? Hasn't she been going with other Piltovans?"
"Huh." Sevika's eyes narrowed. "Are you really sleeping with her?"
"Fuck, no!" You glared at her. "Of course not. Didn't expect you to pay attention to idle gossip."
"Gotta keep your finger on the pulse, ya know?" she said, shrugging casually. "Especially when it comes to two senior officers in the army. Two senior officers who seem to be attracting a lot of chat right now." Then her face grew serious. "But if you're not, then why are you upset about accompanying her?"
"I—I…" You paced around the room, pressing your fists against your eyes in annoyance. "I just don't want to go into the tunnels when there are other things to be doing. I have paperwork to complete. Missions to plan! Trainings to do."
"She requested you."
You stared at her. "Huh?"
"She requested you," Sevika repeated. "And since there's a brief lull in the fighting, I agreed."
"She—She requested me?" you also repeated, blankly.
Sevika frowned. "I'm beginning to wonder if you're alright, Vi? Did you sustain a head injury recently?"
"What, no!"
"Then again, why are you acting like this? You're really giving me edgy and impulsive teenage Vi vibes…"
"I was not an edgy and impulsive teenager—"
Sevika barked a laugh. "I'm not sure about that… Most of your peacekeeping was unfortunately enforced by one too many punches. Ah…" An amused expression crossed her face. "I remember when you got that scar on your lip. Who woulda thought you'd come up with the brilliant idea to single-handedly take on Deckard and his gang—nearly all adults—when you were a mere pipsqueak at fifteen, eh?"
"I was already a peacekeeper then, and they were threatening the peace," you grumbled under your breath. "But I'm not a teenager anymore."
"Exactly. You are a mature adult and as such, will accompany Caitlyn into the tunnels tomorrow without kicking up any further fuss," Sevika finished smugly.
You walked into that one.
"And besides, I'm quite interested to see what's going to happen this time." A devilish smile crooked her lips. "Although, I would prefer if you didn't knock her out again. Even if Grayson understood the necessity last time, I don't think any Piltovan likes seeing their precious Kiramman hurt."
"You're enjoying this…"
"Immensely so. Who knows what rumours might circulate this time?" Her smile broadened. "I rather enjoyed the one where you apparently had a rendezvous in a public park where you made her come so hard her cries of ecstasy scared all the birds from the trees. And the other one where—"
You didn't hear the rest, letting the furious slam of the door at your exit speak for you.
Caitlyn might have requested you, but she certainly would not give any indication as to why.
For the past hour, she'd been silent, concentrating on her work as you descended into a different set of tunnels hidden under a different Kiramman business. Like the time before, you watched her work with fascination, but also with mounting frustration, as she made no conversation, no friendly overtures, not even a snarky remark.
Perhaps this was her idea of punishment for knocking her out. But your last conversation had gone alright, didn't it? She'd even asked you to call her Caitlyn… Perhaps it was some kind of twisted game—
"I can hear you thinking," said the woman herself, and you looked up from your feet to see her standing close in front of you, your gaze sliding over her generous chest before it landed on amused blue eyes.
You took a hasty step back.
"Something you'd like to say?" she asked, cocking her head.
"Yeah, I do, actually," you shot back. "Why'd you ask for me to accompany you today?"
A small smile. "Feeling special?" she smirked, placing a hand on her hip.
"Punished, if I'm being honest," you replied, then smiled at the falter in her smirk. Two could play this game.
"Hmph." Caitlyn spun and stalked away quickly.
"Psh. Really?" You hurried to follow, your boots clomping behind her. "The silent treatment? Very mature."
"Perhaps I do want to punish you."
"I knew it. Couldn't you just give me more paperwork? Assign me with highly dangerous sections to clear or something like that?"
"Well, it seems there is no greater punishment for you than to spend time with me alone. So why not?" She tossed a disdainful glance back at you.
Annoyance coiled in your chest. You said nothing.
"Why?" Caitlyn rounded on you without warning, and you stopped in your tracks to not walk into her. "Did you want me to say something else?" Her eyes were sharp; her voice low, dangerous. "That I requested your company because I haven't seen you for a week and I missed you? And that I wanted you here alone with me in the tunnels without prying eyes—" she touched your hand, then dragged her fingers up, over the sinews your forearm, the line of your bicep, then along your neck to rest against your jaw "—so that I could seduce you?"
Your traitorous heart thudded violently against your ribcage.
But you forced yourself to hold that mesmerising gaze. To raise your hand to hers. "Maybe…" you replied, equally as softly as her." And with one finger, you stroked the hand on your jaw. Slowly, languidly, from the tip of her finger down to her wrist. The resulting hitch in her breath brought you immeasurable satisfaction. "Maybe I have been thinking about your proposition… How it would be like to have sex with you… Have your body underneath mine… How you might tremble where I kiss…" Each word drew her closer, and you could see her long lashes, the flecks in her eyes, her slightly parted lips. "But I certainly wasn't," you finished, stepping back and shattering the pregnant moment that hung between you.
Caitlyn blinked. A shaky exhale escaped from her lips.
Grinning, you shoved past her to continue along the corridor, letting the amusement at her response smother the surge of desire that nearly swept you away at her touch, as unwanted as it was intense.
"Very funny," she said, marching up alongside you. A quick glance revealed a small flush still on her cheeks.
"I thought so."
"After all I've heard this week, I wouldn't have picked you as someone to be so skilled in flirting, even if used as a weapon."
"I'm a woman of many talents. Listening to rumours, are we?"
"As they concern me, I fail to see why I wouldn't."
You scoffed. "Is that the punishment then? Requesting my company to allow more rumours to proliferate and damage my reputation? Unfortunately, it's not going to work. Unlike you, I am not known to sleep around. The Zaunites wouldn't believe it."
"So I've heard. A bastion of morality, aren't you just?"
"More like sex actually means something to me."
"Why? Have a sweetheart back home?" Her tone was casual, but her unflinching gaze ahead belied real curiosity. For some reason, that pleased you.
"If so? Jealous?"
Caitlyn rolled her eyes. "I do not get jealous. And certainly would not get jealous of a man, who must have the patience of a rock to be with someone like you."
You stopped cold. "A—A man?" you repeated dumbly at Caitlyn's back, who strode ahead. "You… Y—you think I'm straight? And that if I had a lover it would be a man?"
Caitlyn glanced back then, a knowing, cunning curve to her lips.
This infuriating woman. "Ah…" you sighed. "Well-played."
She laughed. A sweet ringing sound in the quiet of the tunnel. And even though you were still horrified, annoyance rising at her ruse, you couldn't help the warm rush of pleasure from her laugh and the carefree look that graced her countenance.
"So why then?" you asked again, when silence settled once more, Caitlyn covering her smile with the map.
"Why what?"
"Ugh. Has anyone told you that you're terribly infuriating?"
"Yes. And has anyone told you that you can be just like a dog with a bone?"
"Yes."
Caitlyn snorted, lowering herself down on all fours to inspect the next vent, and you glanced away so as to not stare again at the dip in her back, shuffling on your feet. "Answer me," you said. "Why did you request for me? Any officer ranked Captain or above can go with you now."
A loud, exasperated sigh. "Can I simply not want to have your company, rather than other people who are not as impervious to my natural charms as you seem to be, alone in these isolated tunnels where no one can witness problematic behaviour?" She shook her head, then dug into the wall for the vent covering.
Horror dawned as the implication sank in. "Have people tried to force—"
The vent exploded.