Short Guide

"Happy Progress Day!" came the cheerful greeting of the maid, making Vi flinch sharply. She hadn't even noticed her while wandering slowly down the hallway lost in thought. "Miss Kiramman is still in the council meeting. May I offer you some tea while you wait?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Shall I serve it in the garden?"

"Thanks."

Vi still felt like a stranger in this house—too refined and luxurious, with too many doors leading to who knows where. And once again, her gaze landed on one of them. She pushed it open, pausing momentarily to scrutinize the unfamiliar room with skepticism. Nothing interesting.

"Lovely weather today, isn't it?" Tobias remarked as Vi slumped into the chair beside him, heaving a heavy sigh. He sat with gentlemanly ease, one leg crossed over the other, leisurely flipping through his newspaper. "Something bothering you?"

They were seated at a small coffee table beneath one of the magnolia trees in the garden.

"Tonight's that—" Vi barely stopped herself from swearing, recalling Tobias's constant remarks about inappropriate language. "—that fancy banquet. Like I actually belong there."

A pristine white tablecloth was draped over the table. Then came the small plates, knives, forks, and neatly folded napkins, each embroidered with the Kiramman family crest. Soon after, delicate porcelain cups, a sugar bowl, a milk jug, and a butter dish were added.

"Which blend will you have today?" The maid reappeared before Vi, holding the cursed wooden box rattling with a dozen tiny glass jars filled with tea leaves she knew nothing about. She randomly pointed at the first one she saw.

"Excellent choice!"

Vi still wasn't sure if there were any other possible answers to that question.

"If it helps to know, Caitlyn isn't too fond of these evenings either," Tobias said with amusement. "You wouldn't believe how many times Cassandra caught her—hiding in the bushes, jumping out of windows, or trying to sneak onto the roof. Ah, those were the days." Judging by his nostalgic look, he was fondly reminiscing. "But, alas, it's a necessity now. The position of Sheriff demands it. She only invited you so she wouldn't die of boredom."

"And, apparently, to thoroughly embarrass herself," Vi muttered, eyeing the delicate porcelain cup in her hands, which, in her opinion, looked utterly ridiculous.

"Don't exaggerate. It's just dinner, conversation, and a few harmless little games."

"That's 'harmless' for you lot. You've known since birth which spoon is for soup and which is for cake. We just had the one for everything."

"One eats cake with a fork."

"Exactly my point."

Tobias folded his newspaper leisurely, creasing it twice before setting it neatly on the table just as the teapot was brought over. He poured the tea with practiced ease, the rich, astringent aroma immediately filling the air. A few sugar cubes, then a dash of milk, until the liquid took on a soft, creamy hue. Finally, he looked up at Vi.

"Thirty minutes."

"What?"

"You need thirty minutes to learn everything. Don't look at me like that; I'm serious. If that's truly your only concern."

"I half-expected you to find an excuse not to show up," Sevika said, emerging from the farthest corner of the hall. "If I had the chance, I wouldn't be here either. Or do you lot in the family just not question orders from the Sheriff?" She smirked, tossing back a glass of champagne in one go. "Ugh. Overpriced vinegar. What the hell are they paying for?"

Vi just shrugged, idly twirling her own glass in hand. Watching Caitlyn animatedly discuss something with one of the new councilors was far more interesting. She still hadn't memorized their names.

"A rare vintage. Aged over fifteen years, traditional champagnization method," Vi recited out of nowhere, taking a sip and barely keeping herself from grimacing. "Considered by many to be the pinnacle of winemaking."

Sevika gave her a look of utter disbelief. "Damn. They really drilled you, huh? What did she do to make you fold so fast?"

Vi noticed the curiosity in her gaze and gave a casual shrug. "I didn't want to embarrass myself. So her father helped me prep some general cheat sheets." She caught Caitlyn's brief, almost imperceptible glance and smirked.

"Oh, you're doomed. You're head over heels."

"Jealous?"

"Not even remotely."

Sevika snorted, looking over at Caitlyn thoughtfully. A few seconds of silence, then—

"Gotta admit your girl's got grit. Determined and relentless, she knows what she wants and how to make others go along. Sometimes, even I find her intimidating. It's… impressive."

"Oh, she's got skills."

"Would've been eaten alive without her—bones and all."

"That's your way of saying thanks?"

"Don't push your luck."

"I'll be sure to pass that on to her."

"I didn't think you'd actually come," Caitlyn murmured playfully. Few people knew, but her voice only took on that particular lilt when she was toeing the line of too much alcohol.

Vi simply nuzzled against her neck, trailing her nose along warm skin before wrapping an arm around her waist and slipping the nearly empty glass from her fingers.

"You're stunning," she whispered, her breath hot against Caitlyn's ear. The woman shivered slightly with laughter. "I can't wait for this to be over so I can drag you back to my cramped little den in the deepest pits of Zaun…"

"Is that a threat?"

"A very enticing proposal."

"Then why wait?"

"Because I still need to impress you with my newly acquired table etiquette."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"The ones your father taught me this morning."

"You could've told me you were coming over."

"Wanted to surprise you. But I always forget—you're an incurable workaholic."

Vi finally dared to steal a quick, tender kiss.

Vi didn't even try to follow the high-society chatter—it was all utterly useless to her. Only two things occupied her mind.

First, why is there so much fuss about arranging food on a plate? Jericho never bothered with that nonsense; honestly, his way was way funnier.

Second, Caitlyn's hand somehow ended up on her thigh while she attentively explained something to one of the guests. Casual, like nothing was happening. Vi felt the slow, deliberate squeeze of those fingers and wondered—was she ever really the one making Cait blush with her flirting? Or had that been an illusion all along? Maybe Cait had laid out her trap from the beginning, leading her step by step right into it.

Tobias's voice echoed in her head again, one of his many fond ramblings about his daughter: "She always had a hunter's instinct. Could track a deer through the mud, spot a bird circling above the trade districts, or shoot a rabbit clean through the eye from a hundred paces—with nothing but my old musket. A natural-born predator."

The old man was smooth. Handing Vi every possible advantage against Cait without hesitation. She should visit him more often.

"... So why doesn't Vi just move in with you?"

That question yanked her straight out of her thoughts. Wait—since when were Caitlyn and Sevika having a conversation?

"She hates all the pomp, and I don't do well in confined spaces for too long. We found our own solution."

"Yeah, I wouldn't have time to chase down all the little rats you and Silco's crew have running loose otherwise. So be grateful—I'm saving you from extra headaches and leaving you to your fancy-ass diplomacy nonsense."

Vi had been so caught up in this back-and-forth that she completely forgot the proper way to arrange her utensils to subtly signal to the waitstaff and the restaurant owner that the food, quite frankly, was garbage. Instead, she just spun them idly in her fingers, frowning.

"Cross your fork and knife on the plate," Caitlyn murmured.

"How do you—?"

"You won't like anything except the dessert."

"Agreed." Vi barely let Caitlyn's napkin hit the center of her plate before she did the same. "Finally. My patience was wearing thin."

"You lasted two hours longer than I expected."

"We've only been here two hours."

"Imagine that."

Over time, Vi had even started to find a certain charm in Piltover's streets at night—when walking alone, no less. The warm golden lights, the scent of fresh pastries and sweets, and, most importantly, no drunk brawls in sight. And when Caitlyn's warm hand slipped into hers, all other concerns faded into the background.

A sharp metallic chime broke the silence—the sound of the departing bathysphere. They'd have to wait for the next one.

Vi dodged Caitlyn's attempt to steal a kiss, narrowly avoiding being pinned against the cold metal of the station.

"What?" Caitlyn blinked at her, puzzled.

Vi took a step closer to the platform's edge, looking down. The familiar darkness of Zaun called to her. Then she turned her gaze back to Caitlyn.

"No. Don't even think about it."

"You're not wearing a skirt this time."

"No."

Vi wasn't in any rush right now. Quite the opposite—she grinned as she encouraged her uncertain girlfriend forward, watching her hesitantly take each step.

"Come on, cupcake. You're doing so gracefully."

"Why the hell did I agree to this?"

"Because it's romantic?"

The Kiramman estate—predictable, expected. But Vi's new residence? That was The Last Drop—or at least, what was left. All it took was some "gentle persuasion” to convince the local drunks to find a new hideout and a few days of what could generously be called cosmetic repairs.

"So, are we finally hunting for the bodies buried in the basement?" Vi still hadn't gotten tired of making the joke every time they headed to her den.

The room greeted them with the rich, spicy scent of cardamom. The warm glow of the lamps cast soft reflections on a worn leather couch, dark brown, buried under wool blankets and pillows. Vi had been too lazy to drag into a bed—this did just fine, even for Caitlyn, who spent most of her nights sprawled on top of her anyway.

Their formal jackets barely made it onto the wooden countertop before getting discarded. And from there, things quickly spiraled—books, an old vinyl player, a clock, paintings—anything that wasn't nailed down was at risk. Vi felt Caitlyn shudder slightly when her bare shoulders brushed against the rough brick wall. She wasn't sure whether it was from the coolness of the stone or from the way Vi's mouth was busy leaving dark, lingering marks on her neck. Maybe she should've just laid down on the discarded clothes—it would've been warmer.

They settled into the couch, which released a quiet creak in response. Vi lived for moments like this—when Caitlyn pressed up against her so closely she could feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat; when her fingers traced slow, deliberate paths along Vi's tattoos; when she tilted her neck just slightly—an invitation that Vi had no intention of turning down. And she didn't hear a single complaint when those kisses turned to gentle bites.

Caitlyn's grumpy morning face—buried under a massive knit blanket but without the usual warmth of another body beside her—always made Vi smile. Today was no exception.

"Why'd you get up?" the Sheriff mumbled, curling more profound into a pillow. She'd woken up to the quiet click of the door shutting.

"Because your fancy events serve crap food. Especially if we're planning on… vigorous activities afterward."

The expected response—Caitlyn's face disappearing into the pillow.

"And all I had left was a few slices of stale bread. Had to stop by Jericho's," Vi tossed the bags of food onto the table and started gathering the scattered clothes on the floor.

"I was hoping for a homemade breakfast…" Caitlyn stretched lazily on the couch, and Vi swore she knew precisely what she was doing.

Yeah. Cait wasn't just a hunter—she was a damn cat. That was the only explanation for how much she enjoyed toying with her prey.

"Next time. Promise, cupcake."

Vi climbed onto the couch, first kneeling, then carefully bracing herself against the backrest to keep from toppling over. Her movements were slightly awkward—not as effortless as Caitlyn's, who simply lay there, watching with the faintest smirk.

Hot breath ghosted over Caitlyn's skin momentarily before Vi’s lips found their way through the soft fabric. She pressed kisses into every curve beneath it, following the shape of her body.

And when Caitlyn's breath hitched, her body arched just slightly in response—Vi knew precisely where this was going.

"I don't wanna go to work today."

"I'll let you in on a little secret—you don't have to. It's your day off."

"Then I promised my father we'd have lunch. You're invited, by the way."

"I know. But first, breakfast." Vi grinned. "I've got my own meetings to get to."

"I need your help."

That was the first thing Vi heard when the doors of the Kiramman estate swung open, revealing Tobias standing there. That was… unexpected.

"Uh… okay…" Vi awkwardly shoved her hands into her pockets, hesitating on the doorstep, waiting for context.

"Come in. Is Caitlyn on her way?"

"As soon as she's done handing out ass-kickings, she'll be here. We've got, what, forty minutes? Best case scenario. What's this about?"

"I need help with a card game. You mentioned you could play." Tobias led her into the sitting room, gesturing for her to sit before placing a deck of cards in front of her.

Vi raised an eyebrow, glancing between him and the deck. "Yeah, well, it was one of the more… profitable skills I picked up in prison." She smirked. "So, what exactly do you need help with?"

"Some friends and I have a standing game, but I'm not exactly winning."

"You playing for fun? Or…?"

"Something like that," Tobias admitted with a barely perceptible nod. But the look on his face? That gave away the truth—this was a less friendly gathering, a more high-stakes gamble. Not that he'd ever say it aloud, not with the estate's staff lurking nearby, just waiting to rat him out to his daughter.

Vi leaned back, grinning. "Next time, I'm in."

She cracked her knuckles and picked up the deck. "Alright, old man. Let's get you some real winning hands."

She and her father-in-law had more in common than she'd originally thought.