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Christmas morning in Piltover seems to be like walking into the pages of the worn storybooks Vander had read to Vi and her siblings when she was younger. There is a misty quality of the morning, the city having barely stirred outside— the sugar-dusted rooftops of the smaller buildings that sit outside the Kiramman Estate’s gates still sit undisturbed by the eager footfalls of the children that had been buzzing with excitement at the thought of presents.
A haze of dreams come true, yet still unwrapped, sits still and light upon the city as Vi’s bare feet pad across the Ionian carpets, the woman yawning as she scratches at the trail of hair over the waistband of her flannel pajamas. She’d woken up early again, despite having gone to bed late with Caitlyn after the Christmas Eve party they’d had just last night. Force of habit, she supposes
The Kiramman Estate is no less of a maze to Vi, with its high ceilings and gilded halls and endless twists and turns— much too complex for a family of just three, if you disregard the countless servants and guards bustling at work behind the walls. At the very least, she’s memorised the path to and from Caitlyn’s room to the kitchens, the main living area, two sitting rooms that have somehow been designated as “ hers ” for her new hobbies, the matriarch’s office, and at least three different exits besides the main doors when she doesn’t feel like getting gawked at— an Undercity native walking out of the manor of Piltover’s most distinguished aristocratic house.
There’s little to no servants lingering around today though. They had made quick work of cleaning up after the party, and Caitlyn had dismissed them to celebrate Christmas with their own families.
Vi prefers it this way. She’s grateful for the work that they do around the house even though it makes her a little antsy, not so used to having cleaning and chores done in her stead, but it’s… nice. The estate is big— the size of it had been more than discomforting when she first moved in, but she had learned to fill the empty space and blanks with memories: reading with Caitlyn by the fire here, chasing each other around the gallery there, and all the moments in between.
Now, months after, well, everything , Vi can appreciate the stillness of it all with something almost akin to peace.
Her destination at this moment is the kitchen. She’d eaten the equivalent of what might have been three horses the night before, stuffing sweets into her mouth with Ekko while no one was looking, but now she’s hungry again, but not for a heavy breakfast meal. Vi blames it in part on Caitlyn sharing what are the traditional Christmas treats up here in Topside; now she has a sweet tooth for more than just cupcakes.
Vi navigates the cupboards with ease, picking out some chocolate powder and a bag of marshmallows. Both the staff and Caitlyn had made such a fuss about her helping out in the kitchen when she first moved in, but when they learned how much Vi genuinely enjoyed cooking and how good she was in the kitchen, hardly anyone complained. Even Tobias, which is saying something. Now he was obsessed with the pasta she could cook up, requesting it at least once a month.
She finds hers and Caitlyn's mugs, an early Christmas gift that Vi had given her before she found out that Topsiders always reserved their gift opening on the actual day; Vi had grown up in the Lanes just making sure she'd managed to scrounge up enough gifts for her entire family before December ended.
Caitlyn hadn't minded, at least. She loves the gifts, these cute little ceramic mugs painted pink and blue with Christmas-y snowmen, and has been using them every chance she has— insisting that Vi uses them as well, since they are a matching pair. And how can Vi say no to her?
Her lips tug up at the memory as she gets to preparing some hot chocolate, filling the mugs up with just enough powder before she starts filling the kettle with water to boil.
She goes through the familiar motions without much thought; she’s done this before, even before Caitlyn— with Powder and Mylo and Claggor when they were all still kids in the Lanes. She tips a little more marshmallows into her mug, just how Powder usually liked hers.
Vi knows she’s there before she speaks. She knows her before sight and scent alone, from the way her breaths come and the soft footfalls of her satin slippers against the floor. She lets out a content sigh as she feels her step into her space, and she’s whole once again.
“Mornin’, cupcake,” she drawls, voice still husky from sleep and unuse as Caitlyn wraps her slender arms around her waist and presses her front to her back.
“Good morning,” Caitlyn murmurs, her lips peppering the soft nape of Vi’s neck with light kisses.
Vi smiles softly. "Want me to make you hot chocolate? Makin' some for myself right now."
She asks as if she hasn’t been preparing two mugs from the beginning. Caitlyn is too sleepy to realise.
“Mhm, please,” she mumbles against her skin, nuzzling her face into the crook of her shoulder. Vi can feel her long lashes fluttering against her skin as her eye closes, relishing in the natural heat of Vi's shorter body while bits of the cold draft from the winter wonderland outside creep in through the gaps in the windows.
Vi hums, reaching back to card her fingers through Caitlyn's hair while the other carefully tips the steaming water from the kettle into the mugs. "Still sleepy? Should’ve stayed in bed, I was gonna bring these up for you.”
"I'll manage," Caitlyn yawns. “Wanted to find you. Your feet are loud.”
Vi snorts. And she thought she was being sneaky, creeping out of bed while Caitlyn was still snoozing. She takes a ridiculously tiny spoon from the drawer, using it to mix the chocolate powder in with the water till its a thick and even blend, before turning around to wrap her arms around her lover’s waist. Her head tips up, grey eyes meeting Caitlyn’s mismatched ones— cerulean blue and hazy white.
“Hey,” she grins, pecking her cheeks. “Merry Christmas.”
Caitlyn leans into her, letting out a soft sigh as their noses bump. Vi takes her in, still dazed from sleep and beautiful all the same. Her slender limbs wrap around her as she rests her forehead against Vi’s in a familiar, tender gesture.
“Merry Christmas to you too,” Caitlyn muses, her fingers gently playing with the loose strands of hair at the nape of Vi’s neck, twirling the strands around her trigger finger. “Mhm. You’re gorgeous today.”
“What, ‘m not gorgeous every day or something?” Vi laughs breathlessly as Caitlyn leans down to press kisses pressing kisses along her freckled neck.
“Hush. You know what I mean.”
Vi does, of course, but she can’t help but tease. This morning, however, the bliss of the holiday and the domesticity of this moment with Caitlyn makes her pliant to her lover’s affections. Vi lets out a soft sigh, tilting her head to give Caitlyn better access to her neck. Her head, still slightly dazed from sleep and the one too many flutes of champagne she’d indulged in last night, spins from the affection and praise, the attention and adoration the taller woman lavishes upon her.
“Could say the same about you, princess,” Vi murmurs, her calloused fingers carding through the silky tresses of Caitlyn’s navy hair. She likes Caitlyn like this — neither so refined nor composed, her straight hair tangled from shifting in her sleep and the tiny blemishes on her face visible without her makeup. Something raw that she only ever shows to Vi and Vi alone. Vi can’t help but sigh. “Not much for the gambling type, but God really let me strike gold with a woman like you, huh?”
She turns her head against Vi’s, nuzzling her face into her pink hair with an almost bashful giggle. Her free hand presses against the broad firmness of Vi’s back, fingers tracing absentminded patterns against her loose white shirt, over the inked designs that Vi knows she has memorised from their countless nights together.
”You’re going to make me blush, you know,” she mutters affectionately.
“I’ll consider that one of my best skills, actually.”
“Oh, shut up,” Caitlyn laughs, shoving her gently. It's barely a push, but Vi goes along with it anyway, grinning as her back bumps against the edge of the countertop lightly. It's a nice fit as Caitlyn presses close, wrapping her arms around Vi's neck, like missing puzzle pieces coming back together.
They stand there for a moment longer, swaying in each other’s arms. Vi presses her face against the crook of Caitlyn’s neck, inhales the scent of lavender and gunpowder and breathes out all the burden of the world that sits upon her shoulders. She squeezes Caitlyn’s waist, listening to her lover hum.
“C’mon, Cupcake. Hot chocolate is best when it’s, you know, actually hot.”
Caitlyn laughs, and Vi closes her eyes and lets the sound sink in. It’s almost like home.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Tobias Kiramman is already sitting at one of the sofas in the main lounge when Vi and Caitlyn come down. He looks comically small next to the Christmas tree, this absurdly large thing that nearly reaches to the very top of the ceiling overhead, the golden star grazing over the glass window where the tree was meticulously set up under. Though, to be fair, all of them look comically small next to it.
“Ah. Merry Christmas, girls,” he says amiably. The holidays have put even this man in a chipper mood.
“Good morning, Father,” Caitlyn hums, leaning over the back of the sofa to kiss his cheek. “Merry Christmas. Have you opened your gifts yet?”
“Ooh, yes!” Tobias gasps, eyes lighting up as he sets his newspaper aside. “Shall we begin? I was just waiting for the two of you to come down before getting started.”
Caitlyn huffs out a laugh, no doubt endeared by her father’s childlike excitement at the prospect of opening presents. Vi supposes that when you live a life such as the Kirammans’, you have the luxury of Christmas gifts every year. She bites back the comment though, letting Caitlyn settle against her on the fluffy rug.
They curl up against one another as Tobias sets about unwrapping his presents, sipping on their hot chocolate till their mugs are empty and their stomachs are warm with sweetness. Vi eases Caitlyn’s own presents to her as well, though the navy-haired heiress seems more interested in just cuddling up to her. The names and insignias on the tags are lost to Vi, probably some gesture of goodwill from another noble house in Topside, though she recognises the familiar crests of two certain noble houses; watches with a faint smile as Caitlyn unveils a case of gilded golden bullets from Mel (whom Caitlyn continues to keep in touch with even while a whole continent away) and unwraps an old portrait of herself as a lanky and awkward teenager, beaming brightly next to Jayce; a gift from the remaining member of House Talis.
“Cute kid,” Vi teases, nudging her shoulder.
Caitlyn laughs, even as her voice wobbles. “I don’t suppose you looked any less cooler when you were 14 either.”
“Are you kidding? I was the coolest kid on the block!”
Even Vi gets some gifts, no doubt a gesture of goodwill from the other nobles who have grown to recognise her as Caitlyn's partner in more ways than one. Vi appreciates it still. Some of them are gaudy and utterly useless to her — Caitlyn laughs at the expression she makes when Vi unveils a pretty pink dress, shimmering like fairy silk in her hands — while others come from half-decent Topsiders who have actually made an effort to get to know her: a sweet new saxophone with an almost blinding luster, a few new collections of novels, and even a whole new oven.
(Caitlyn started to mutter something about completely refurnishing one of the rooms on the lower level to make room for a whole new kitchen for her; Vi is glad for Tobias's intervention on that one, accepting the collection of non-fiction adventure tomes from Ionia that Caitlyn recognises and, thankfully, ceases her train of thought.
Rich people scare Vi sometimes.)
It's when they've cleared almost everything under the tree that Caitlyn speaks up, standing from her place by Vi's side.
"I know you said you didn't want any more gifts, but did you really expect that I'd listen?" she laughs, bringing forth a wrapped gift that had been laying flat on the carpet, unseen. Truthfully, it had not caught Vi's eye before— and right now, she's only thankful that it isn't something absurdly large and expensive, remembering some of Caitlyn's previous gifts.
In contrast, this one seems relatively simple, a flat 12 by 12 inch thing that rests lightly on her hands. A storybook, perhaps?
But she knows it isn't, because the weight of it is odd in her hands when Caitlyn hands it to her, and Vi is sure that her girlfriend already knows that she's probably read every picture book in Piltover as an interlude between her much larger novels. If Caitlyn had bought her another book that is, by some miracle, not already included in the Kirammans' library, then it would be much thicker than this.
"Oh?" Vi turns at Tobias's surprised sound, noting his wide, curious eyes as he catches sight of the wrapped gift in her hands.
"Do you know what this is?" Vi can't help but ask; can't help the curiosity that arises, like that of the eager girl from that last Christmas she'd celebrated with her family nearly a decade ago.
"Father," Caitlyn hisses in warning, cheeks flushed.
Vi almost laughs at that. Cute. She doesn't want her father ruining the surprise, is that it? Tobias huffs, raising his hands in defence.
"Alright, alright. Go on ahead, Violet," he says, standing. "I'll go get something. If you'll excuse me."
He hums a jolly little tune, hips wiggling like some sort of animated character as he skips out of the room. Caitlyn watches him go, grumbling something under her breath; clearly, Tobias has caught onto something, and he's doing something about it.
"Now I'm scared," Vi jokes.
She really isn't, but her hands are careful as they pick out the neat tape tying the wrapping altogether. It looks expensive — feels expensive even, though Vi isn't quite sure what makes the real difference between cheap or expensive wrapping paper anyway, but she doesn't want to tear up the pretty design that she's sure Caitlyn must have spent a good few hours picking out. Her attention to detail is baffling, but all the more endearing to Vi.
As she takes her time unwrapping the gift carefully, Caitlyn begins to ramble, wringing her hands anxiously.
"I—I must confess, I didn't pick it out on my own," she admits sheepishly, blue eyes flitting to her hands. "I was actually really clueless as to what to get you, especially with how utterly unhelpful you were in giving me an idea—"
Vi laughs at the faux upset tone of her voice, eyes glimmering in amusement. "Hey, what can I say? When you don't need much, you don't want much."
"Pragmatic as ever," Caitlyn huffs, though there is no malice in her tone. Some nervous tension eases from her shoulders, and she continues. "Well, so I asked Ekko for help, and he pulled some strings for me. Really, it's more like this gift is from both of us—”
Vi’s breath hitches, and Caitlyn falls silent.
On her lap sits a vinyl record. Her hands shake as she turns it over, as careful as her mother had taught her to when she was just a young girl wanting to pick out a song at the Last Drop. Not Piltovian-made, no; Vi has grown familiar to the craftsmanship of vinyls made in Topside, has listened to Tobias's many ramblings about the process of pressing them. This one is a familiar masterwork made of the sort of scraps you can find only in Undercity junkyards; a piece from home.
But that's not what makes Vi stop, no. It's the print, the design of it. Someone has illustrated two faces on paper with tender loving care, the pencil strokes masterful as it captures the singular soul of two people. Vi sees pink hair, a slit brow, a crooked grin— she would recognise this anywhere, how could she not? It is her own reflection, the mirror that she looks into every single day in the bathroom.
But this reflection stares, crooked grin and all, at the upside-down head of another. Vi already knows who it is, from the angular brows and the long blue hair, but she turns the vinyl around in her hands anyway, just so that she can look at it— look at her .
"I—It's really Ekko's gift, if you think about it," Caitlyn says softly, watching as Vi lets out a ragged breath. "He made it himself, every part of it, though I have no idea how he salvaged and made use of the recording. All I did was ask him for help. I... I would have gotten you something original, but I wanted it to mean something. This is your first Christmas with me, after all, and I wanted to show that I cared enough to—"
"You remembered," Vi exhales. There doesn't seem to be any breath in her lungs anymore, not as she lets her fingers trail from her sister's illustrated face to the words overhead, in Ekko's near-perfect mimic of the original vinyl's font.
Our Love.
She'd told Caitlyn about this only once, she thinks. Only in passing, when they were chatting about music one day and Vi mentioned how much her mother loved to dance to this song when they visited Vander at the Last Drop; how the tradition of playing it on slow nights after hours continued even long after she and Powder were orphaned on the bridge. And yet, Caitlyn had remembered; not only that, she had gone beyond and asked for Ekko's help in replicating this old vinyl that had probably been burnt down with her old home.
“Ah," Tobias says as he comes back in, carrying a vinyl player in his hands. He peers over Vi's shoulder, humming. "I don’t recognise that one.”
“It’s—” the words catch in Vi’s throat, and she is dully aware that Caitlyn is still watching her, hopeful and anxious in equal measure. Her voice comes out wobbly when she speaks again. “It was my parents’ favourite record. An.... Undercity classic.”
“A classic, you say?” Tobias hums, his curiosity no doubt piqued. Vi is no stranger to how much the man loves music. "Well, let's have a listen then, shall we?"
He plugs the record player in, stepping back to let Vi quietly approach. Cerulean and white follow her every movement, watching as she slips the vinyl from its packaging, setting the sleek thing in place. The needle drops, and it begins to play.
There's a girl in town and word's got around: "She's just fine."
Vi tilts her head back up, meeting Caitlyn's gaze. The woman has been unsure; so, so nervous as she waits for Vi to speak on the gift she’d received, but when their eyes meet, she relaxes.
Vi lets her lips tug up in a crooked smile as she listens to the words of the song, the tremor of her hands fading away as the melody blends with Tobias's hums in the background. She takes a step forward, holding out a hand to her woman, who looks at it in surprise.
So I don’t worry my head, ‘cause I know her heart is tied to mine.
"Dance with me, Cait," Vi laughs, grasping her hand before she can protest.
“ Oh !”
Tobias laughs heartily as he watches his daughter get swept away into an impromptu dance in the middle of their living room. Caitlyn’s eyes are wide, surprised as she regains her footing. Vi snorts, taking her hands and tugging her along while the song continues on with its ever familiar melody.
The life that we live and the love that I give to her.
Caitlyn huffs out a short laugh, shaking her head in fond exasperation as Vi gives a little jiggle of her hips to egg her on. Her slender hands fall to her broad shoulders, squeezing the firm muscle underneath.
“You’re utterly ridiculous,” Caitlyn tells her.
“Oh, come on, Cait,” Vi grins. “Indulge me on my first ‘Piltovian Christmas’.”
“She’s right, Caitlyn! Your mother and I used to do this same thing when we were younger,” Tobias calls, and Vi turns her head in surprise when he takes her side— only to burst out laughing when she sees the older man doing his own little musical wiggle in his own space.
Each day it grows more and more I'm sure, it shows.
Caitlyn’s shoulders tremble with her giggles as she shakes her head again. And still she allows herself to be guided along by Vi, following her lead as they sway along to the gentle tune. The oversized Christmas sweater she had thrown over her nightgown hangs on her frame loosely, the hem barely covering her thighs. Her hair is still ruffled and messy from sleep, navy wisps falling around her angular face.
“Our love is a bubbling fountain,” Vi dares to sing along to those familiar lyrics, tries to embody the voice of her mother from so long ago, if only to watch Caitlyn’s expression light up in delighted surprise. “ Our love, that flows into the sea .”
“ Our love ,” Caitlyn mumbles, cheeks flushing as she misses the cue. She groans in embarrassment, burying her face in Vi’s hair, but she continues to sway them along anyway.
It’s a little awkward. The taller one is usually meant to lead the dance, but Vi is used to taking on the role of the man in her days of twirling Powder around like a little princess, and Caitlyn is accustomed to the opposite. Their steps are clumsy, with Caitlyn unused to this melody that was not taught to her in her dancing classes as a child, but Vi deftly leads her along.
Ooh, like someday I’ll pray our love will always stay pure.
Vi’s voice cracks slightly along the edges in a manner that is so distinctly Mylo, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Caitlyn laughs at that, a soft sound that only adds to the music to Vi’s ears. Her smile is wide, her expression one of genuine happiness and affection. And so Vi keeps on singing, if only to linger in this moment that will soon be memory, as all the other moments with this song as its soundtrack always do.
While the world turns around, he holds me down for sure.
Caitlyn’s hand trailed downward to rest over Vi’s heart, her slender fingers gently tapping against her binder along with the beat. Vi grins, grasping her slim waist in her large hands firmly, before she suddenly dips the taller woman down.
“Vi!” Caitlyn shrieks with laughter as her slender frame suddenly arches downward, heart racing with surprise and delight.
The startled noise easily dissolves into a laugh as her arms wrapped around her lover’s neck to prevent herself from falling. Caitlyn stared up at Vi’s with those wide eyes, her fair cheeks dusted with rosy color.
“I got moves too,” says Vi, taking pause to wink as the chorus continues on.
Caitlyn snorts at the suave move. Her slender frame is still leaning down as Vi supports her with steady hands, never dropping.
The loose hem of the sweater had fallen over her hips, baring an expanse of pale skin littered with moles. Her navy hair spread out and hovered over the floor, longer than Vi has seen it since they first met. She stares a little longer, taking it all in as the song continues to play. It is only when Caitlyn smacks her shoulder to be let back up before all the blood rushes to her head that she hoists her back to her feet, grinning cheekily.
“Quite the dancer, you are,” Caitlyn huffs, cheeks flushed as they continue their little dance.
And after all; the rain will fall on us too.
Caitlyn presses herself closer, and Vi can feel her lips play into a small smile against her temple as she listens to the words of the song that Vi hums along to, her husky voice adding an extra layer of soul to the melody of rhythm and blues.
But I’ll keep movin’ on, proud and strong—
“ With you ,” Vi grins cheekily, turning her head to bump her nose against Caitlyn’s.
Caitlyn’s eyes crinkle in half crescents as she smiles, pressing a slow and chaste kiss to Vi’s lips, and Vi hears her own heart dance along to the echo of the song’s final verse, singing our love, our love, our love, our love.
“Did you like the gift?” Caitlyn asks hopefully as their swaying slows to a stop, the needle lifting from the record. She does not pull her arms away from where they are looped around Vi’s neck, and Vi in turn holds onto her as if she is a lifeline.
She cannot help but laugh. Here she stands, her belly full of warm drink and food, the healthiest she has ever been in, well, her entire life. She has more presents than she knows what to do with, a house larger than the younger girl she used to be could have ever fathomed. And yes, the ache of loss is still there — will never leave, perhaps — but Caitlyn has stayed by her side and watched her grow till the hole is no longer so gaping, so empty.
And now she has given this song back to her, dove into Vi’s most tender confessions of her past to acquire the soundtrack of her childhood and made by the hands of her little brother, her most beloved friend.
(Now Vi knows why Ekko was so sure that she would enjoy her first Piltovian Christmas. He’d made sure of it, the little shit. She’ll visit him as soon as she can, wrap her strong arms around him and ruffle his hair in quiet thanks. And maybe she’ll invite him over too, to dance along to this tune like they used to when they were kids.)
But now it’s just Caitlyn in front of her: hopeful, doe-eyed Caitlyn, who looks at Vi for approval, as if Vi could ever do less than recognise how much love this woman has for her.
“Yeah,” Vi exhales, cupping her cheek. “Yeah, I love it.”
And Caitlyn’s face blooms into the sweetest smile, and Vi thinks: Merry Christmas, indeed.