chrysalis
There is one thing she's always lacked in. Being useful. Her mother died giving birth to her; and her father died just a few months before Blue found her. Because of her.
She thought they were safe from the bad men, and she asked if they were. Within seconds, her father was shot where he was hiding. She drew them to him, with just a word. She didn't talk after.
She isn't very useful for Blue, either. Not enough at least. Blue says she saved her, but then she acts upset over it; like she didn't want to be saved. Sevika says she's just some stray latching on for food, that she's just another mouth to feed with nothing to give. She doesn't say that anymore, but she still remembers.
She tries to be, and always comes up short. She got herself caught, got Blue hurt, when she was trying to help Blue and Sevika and all of Zaun by taking her place in the revolution. This led them here.
To the sunflower place. Her father used to tell her stories, that her mother always loved sunflowers, that she even gave birth to Isha in one because she had nowhere else to go. She likes it because of that, and the fields are fun to play in. She knows Blue and her.. sister, the pink one (Violet? Viii?) likes it too. They all do.
It's safe here, calming despite how Blue claims it's unsettling and creepy. She doesn't see it, the place isn't scary at all, until it is.
Flames lick at her skin, crawling up like the little bugs she collects. It makes her shiver all the same. There's so much going on, and she's struggling to keep up; running after the flashes of blue and black just to lose the good blue, then the black in search.
The big sister is holding her side, she's hurt. She can't protect Blue if she's hurt. Blue who..
Blue is on the ground.
She remembers a comment she had made to her.
“Y’know, I tried saving my family with 3 of these once. That's how Powder died, but she wasn't very strong anyways. So it's okay, I guess.”
The glowing stones feel very heavy in her pocket.
Her heart feels heavier in her chest.
It takes her two seconds to make up her mind. She runs, and runs, with her head up proud. Blue has taught her to be proud. Tears blur her vision, and yet a smile creeps up her face.
She thinks, dreams, of her life. It's too good for her. She loves every bit of it, and she knows she’ll give it up for Blue. Without her, there's no point.
Blue still has her family, she loves her sister, even though they keep fighting. Vander has hurt Blue, and Vi is already hurt. She can't protect herself, or Blue. Isha has to.
She wants Blue to be able to do everything she does with her, with Vi like she said she never got to.
She jumps, and it feels like flying.
She lands shakily, and slides for the pistol.
One, two, three.
Lean down.
Brace yourself, beneath Vander.
Look for her, make sure she's away from it.
Vi is protecting her as best as she can, pulling her away. She’ll help her.
“You feel it? That.. whoosh, wooshhh, buzzing beneath your eyes because you know..”
She looks up, tears streaking the corners of her eyes. She's so scared. She has to push it aside for Blue, for her family, she has to be brave. The gun points up, brindling with barely contained energy. Shakily, she pulls down on the trigger and watches as it buzzes at the tip, ready to come undone.
“In a moment it could all,”
She smiles, and closes her eyes.
“–Pew.”
Blue encompasses her, and it burns so violently, clawing at her skin, and yet nothing takes the smile off her face. She thinks she’ll die smiling. She's sure she will.
“Best feeling in the world, kid.”
・・・・・⟢ ay, mariposas, don't you hold on too tight
Isha is six years old, seven almost, and in that time she's only had one person important to her. Two, now.
She blinks up at the girl cradling her to her chest, and feels safe in a way she hasn't in years.
She knows who she is.
The dangerous one all the other kids whisper about, with the long blue hair and crazy pink eyes.
And yet Isha feels safe in her arms, because for someone so dangerous she protects her without a second thought.
Her dad always protected her like that, and she was always told her ‘mama’ would too.
Isha winces, lip pulling up in a pout, when her skin stings. The blue headed woman looks up at her and gives her a quick, “Sorry,” before she's wrapping tiny bandages around her finger.
It wasn't that bad, she's had way worse and didn't have to bandage it. It was just a small graze from the fancy girl’s bullet. It's nothing compared to the injuries the others have sustained in their fight.
Blue’s finger is gone. She looks a little worse for wear, but oddly all her cuts and scratches she had are gone without a trace.. and– Sevika, right? seems to be hurt somehow. She can't tell where.
A small scratch on her ring finger is nothing. She watches quietly as the woman finishes wrapping the wound, and she gives her a timid smile when Blue looks up. Her expressions are all she has to communicate.
“Do you have a name?”
Isha’s eyes squint up, and she pats her lips with her hand, and then draws an X upon them.
“Don't name it. You’ll just get attached, and I don't need any more brats running around.”
She almost winces. She's been called a brat alot, and doesnt associate it with much good. But Blue wouldn't let her get hurt right? Not after she saved her life. Blue doesn't say anything, and just stares at her.
Blue’s eyebrows furrow, her own lips going down into a frown almost. Confusion, she thinks. Isha huffs.
“Kid cant talk,” The bigger woman says, rough and scraggly, “Can you write?”
Jinx’s head swerves toward her. Isha nods and gives a sharp nod as a thank you when she's passed a small notebook with a pencil.
“Oh.”
“Lotta sumpsnipes are mute. Don't get all sad on her now; we ain't keeping her.”
They get into some conversation Isha only half listens to, concentrating on writing her name as best as possible.
Her dad taught her, as a kid, but it's been a while and her hands are shaky and she doesn't like how dull the pencil is.
She tries her best to spell it right, biting her tongue to focus.
After a few moments, she interrupts them by holding up her notebook.
A I s Hu H A
“Aisha?”
Close, but not it. She pulls her lip tight, giving an mmh.
They try to pronounce it right, but its never how her dad said it. Never completely right.
Eventually, after finally throwing her hands with a huff, they settle on the one that was closest. So close, but they said it too undeveloped, too fast.
But she had given them a smile, and then a shrug. So it was second best.
Isha.
From that day on, she decides she’ll try to be useful for Blue, and Sevika too. To pay them back; for giving her a home, for keeping her safe, for teaching her how to talk in a way she was okay with, for everything.
She thinks of her father alot; how he looked just like her, and his crisp Isuhaas that were so right, and his gentle hands, and his hat she carries with her, and all the stories he used to tell. How she got him killed.
She wont get Blue killed. Or Sevika. She’ll herself die before she gets them hurt again.
She wants to be like Blue when she grows up; someone that can protect kids like her from the bad people and not expect anything in return.
She begs to dye her hair blue, as best as she can. Isuhaa was useless, with her brown hair, but Isha will be useful with her blue. She loves the name Blue has given her, like she's something brand new.
It takes a few weeks, but her bug wins one of their matches finally and Blue relents.
She squirms and squeals as Blue paints bright blue matching her own onto Isha’s strands with gentle fingers. She can't hold back the excitement, and Blue doesn't punish her for being too loud or moving too much. She just rewards her with a soft laugh. She feels so safe.
She accidently pulls a strand out of Blue’s fingers as she braids, and Blue giggles.
“Hey! You gotta be still, or the tickle monster will come out.”
Isha freezes, forcing her limbs to sit down criss cross apple sauce. It works for about two seconds.
In the end, the tickle monster still comes out.
But it's okay, because they're both laughing and squirming, and the floor is stained bright blue, and so is Isha’s hair.
Brown still peeks through in the mirror. She's okay with that, the brown will always be a part of her. A reminder of who she is, who she has to be.
The very essence of her being. Intertwined. Sewn together.
・・・・・⟢ and if you were my little girl; i’d do what i could do
Under his beast, there is a girl. The girl.
She keeps showing up, itching at his curiosity.
In the gathering.
In the prison.
Now, in the commune.
The Noxian general is behind him, watching the treasure beneath the beast her soldiers carried off. The woman kneels next to the child.
She looks tiny like this, like how Orianna looks smaller than anything in the oasis but he had always remembered her as larger than life. They must be the same age, just around. This one looks smaller. But she is Zaunite, deprived of her needs, unlike his daughter. They grow small here.
In another life, maybe you two could be friends.
It is to the thought of his daughter that he asks.
“What are you doing with the child?”
The general, Ambessa, looks at her with eyes as sharp as a wolf but there is pain in them and acceptance too. She accepts what he will not. Death.
“All warriors deserve a proper burial.” She says, and he would be stupid to believe it is just that. He is a father, as the human beside him is a mother. “Strength has four cores. Sacrifice is the heaviest to bear, and this child has mastered it; gave her life for it, she deserves a burial for that, does she not, doctor?”
Yes, he thinks.
This puny, scrawny thing of a child that cannot be much older than 8 has done things unthinkable for many.
Her body is charred and bloodied, limp and lifeless, with remnants of blue energy coursing through her body.
“May I have the corpse? I.. knew her family. Zaunites have peculiar customs.”
It has been so long since he has had a child like this in his arms, since Orianna surely. Many claim he does not have a heart, and yet his heart pangs at the feeling of the girl against him.
In another life.
The next day, there will be a grave amongst the rest of the Noxian soldier’s own. It's marked with the girl’s hat.
A nameless grave, for a nameless girl.
A nameless dead girl, with a heart that beats ever so faintly, despite its struggles and battles. Her will to live is tremendous, it must be her genetics; passed down from father to sister and sister, to daughter.
She toes the line between death and life, heart stopping ever so slightly just to start back up again. It's not bringing the dead back, not what he wants, but it is close.
It takes weeks, months of transformation; but the girl steps off the line and crosses into what can only be called life.
She breathes, feels, thinks. She is alive. She does not talk, or hear. She sees, but just barely.
It is enough.
A nameless dead girl that cannot be over 8 gives him something he has spent decades attempting, something that is priceless.
She has given him his life, his world back. His daughter.
For this, she deserves more than a proper burial. She deserves life, a life as good as the one she gave him.
Her mother is dead. His beast is ruined, beyond fixing. There is no need now.
A week later, the eldest pup is back in her nest of ruin. Summoned almost. It is the best he can do for this girl.
A child in his arms; the same one that he's kept close for weeks. It will be a different one soon, the one he cherishes most, now that she has blessed him. This will be his last time carrying her, thanking her for something that she will never know the weight of.
Another hour, and the child, so alive and with a name now surely, is being carried home by the last remnant of her family; the one he has never gotten his hands on. He is sure she is just as deserving as the others.
Months later, his daughter is in his arms. Months later, and the world knows his nameless dead girl. They will never know how truly exquisite she is, but he will. He will never forget.
Isha Kiramann, the wonders you’ve done for me.
Years later, his daughter is dancing again. Years later, his nameless dead girl, who has made a name and a life for herself, is behind her.
In another life, maybe you would be friends.
Of course. She keeps appearing, his most curious case. She is perfect.
・・・・・⟢ no room for me to stay, but i stayed anyways
There's an unsettling calm, after everything. It feels too peaceful and she can't help but think there's something.. more to come.
The calm before the storm, or however the saying goes.
She's not sure how to feel about it. One could say it's good, that everything is on the way to resolvement, and that her and Caitlyn have found eachother again, and are healing, but it doesn't feel like healing.
It feels like grief. It feels like something is carving a hole in her, leaving just a hollowed expanse. Her and Caitlyn have found each other, and yet she has lost everyone. It's hard to ignore that without some quick rush of something keeping her busy and distracted. There is no healing for her yet, just mourning. She doesn't know there will ever be.
There is no coming back from what has happened.
The commune. Isha. Vander. Loris. Jinx.
Just a fraction of that is bad enough, but altogether and with the extra body count of others, it seems like Jinx had dragged Vi down with her too. Like she’s lost herself.
She thinks she might as well be dead. She doesn't know how to live without Jinx, without the thought of being one half of the same whole, of completing it. Jinx’s absence bites at her soul, clawing and snapping and shredding any bit it could find. Vi doesn't think she finds the point in living anymore, when her the very essence of her soul is gone.
But there is one.
Caitlyn.
Caitlyn, who dragged herself to Vi with a gushing hole in her stomach and a cut open eye. Caitlyn, who has already started working on making the world better when she herself isn't. Caitlyn, who can't meet her eyes again.
She's distant, wary of everything. Of Vi. It hurts just as much as anything lately, and she so desperately wants to see her Cait. She has a reason to live, a big one.
She wants her Caitlyn back, would do anything to see even a twinkle in cerulean eyes, like shes seen so many times before.
Vi knows something happened, when she was fighting alongside her sister. All she knows is it resulted in Caitlyn fighting Ambessa, losing an eye to her. But she knows her better than anyone else in the world, maybe. Her eye is a part of why she's acting like she did during the strike team, but not fully. There is something more.
“Cait,” She murmurs, letting it out just before she wraps her arms around her from behind, chin resting on her shoulder. The blue haired girl tenses up despite her warning, and Vi sighs. “Cupcake, what's wrong?”
“It doesn't matter.” She dismisses quickly, no emotion in the tone. Just blank.. numb. It stings, almost, but in the past two weeks it's become usual. It doesn't stop Vi from feeling hurt, despite knowing she shouldn't. Caitlyn is hurt too, and hurt people hurt people. It’ll get better with time.
(Will it? Is her grief getting better?)
Vi deattaches from her not wanting to make her anymore uncomfortable. She sits next to her instead, making sure to stay in the vision of her still seeing eye. Caitlyn doesn't even look at her. She doesn't touch her.
The redhead peers at what Caitlyn’s working on, glancing at the hard grip she has on her fancy little pen with concerned eyes. There's alot of papers, and she knows Caitlyn must have been up far into the night. She falls asleep next to her, and wakes up alone. Even if she wakes up in the middle of the night.
“Should you be working this hard? I mean.. I get that few possess the genius of Caitlyn Kiramann, but you always get migraines after. You should be resting.”
Caitlyn scoffs. “No, I don't. And I am ‘resting’. I could be out there, actually helping.”
“You do. You always make the same face when your head hurts.” She tuts, pressing a kiss to said face, before continuing. “Just because you could be out there doesn't mean you should, or that you have to. You’ve already done so much, why cant you take a break? You deserve it. More than anyone.”
Caitlyn’s grip falters, just for a second before she continues writing. It's silent for a few moments, and Vi knows the words are lost on her. Again.
If she wont stop, she’ll at least do her best to help her do what she feels she must. She cannot believe the amount of coffee or tea she's made over the past few weeks. Caitlyn makes it herself sometimes, but she doesn't even like taking a break just to make coffee, so Vi or Tobias often complete the task. She has no complaints, she likes having something to do and likes that it helps Caitlyn in some way even more. She doesn't have much to do, or a sister to help anymore.
After a few moments, the whir of the machine has quieted down leaving just the soft rhythm of her own breathing and the scratch of pen on paper. The warmth of the cup soothes her fingers.
She sets it down to Caitlyn, who gives her a small thank you in response, before taking a sip.
Vi almost breaks down when she looks up at her, and smiles, and that sparkle is back in her eyes.
“You’re getting good at it. Tastes perfect. Just as good as Mom made it.”
She kisses her without even thinking, hands hovering around her chair because shes not sure where to put her hands. Caitlyn hasn't liked her upper back or neck being touched lately, and she still is healing from a stab and her body is bruised all over her torso. She doesn't want to hurt her.
Caitlyn ends up distracted from her work, finally resting. Or well.. not really. The Kiramann seems to take Vi’s pleasure just as seriously. She's only been with people a few times, just quick things to get favors in prison, but she doesn't think anyone else would care as much about how she feels if it wasn't Caitlyn. Even despite how unsure of just.. everything she is lately, how closed off she's been, she still opens up just the faintest to take care of her.
(She doesn't let Vi take care of her anymore, shuts down her attempts without even saying anything.)
It isn't quite what it was the first time, but for a few hours her Caitlyn is back, and she holds onto her tightly.
Vi doesn't let her get back up. Caitlyn doesn't try again, content to stay intertwined in the sheets and each other. It might not be enough, but for now, it is and she’ll let herself enjoy the quiet moment of peace with Caitlyn.
Caitlyn, who presses kisses to her bare collarbone in a gesture that can't be anything but pure love. She hums, cheek squished against silky sheets.
“Maddie was a spy.” Her eyes open, looking down at Caitlyn and finally their eyes meet. She gets a small smile. A reason. “She, um, knocked me out in the middle of everything. Ambessa told her to shoot me, and she did, or well– Mel stopped her. She fell on my neck or shoulder, all the same I guess.”
She saw Maddie’s body, face laying in a pool of blood. A gunshot. At the time, she had mourned the bubbly girl.
“Is that why you dont like me touching you anymore?”
Caitlyn nods hesitantly, blue eyes staring into her own as if trying to search for her emotions.
“I know you wouldn't do that. But some part of me can't help but think at any second you’ll turn on me, I know it's wrong but I never thought of her. I let her into my bed, my house..” Caitlyn trails off.
It makes sense Maddie was that.. person she saw. She had always had some little puppy crush on Caitlyn, or maybe she didn't.
Vi sighs, hand finding her jaw and caressing softly as she tilts it up. She's so beautiful.
She wants to tell her how she had thought to that day back in the temple, when she woke up in Caitlyn’s house. How she didn't trust her either, afraid to have that shiny rifle jammed at her for a 3rd time until Caitlyn proved she was trustworthy. So she knows shes not alone. She didn't really think it was possible anymore, but she still thought of it occasionally. Just a disturbing what if.
But this isn't about her, it's about Caitlyn. And Maddie, who has ruined her trust in anyone to the point it's affecting them.
“It's okay. It doesn't mean anything, i'm not mad at you for it. ‘s just your body trying to keep you safe, scared to get hurt again is all. Just– dont push me away. I want to be here for you.”
Caitlyn nods, and presses a soft kiss to her lips. They fall asleep in each other's embrace. She's not gone in the morning.
It doesn't fix everything.
Vi is still carved open and empty, attempting to fill it with alcohol once she realizes the stash in the house. She only stops enough to get the bitter pain of withdrawal, and then starts again when it starts to blur.
Caitlyn is still distant, and unsure. She finds her smoking on a balcony once or twice and she always looks ashamed. Vi didnt know she smoked. It happens more then Vi catches it, she can taste it on her as Caitlyn surely can taste the alcohol on her.
They’re not quite okay.
Caitlyn pours herself back into her work.
Vi ends up getting convinced to lead a mission into the commune, to scrape up the remnants of hextech there a bit later. Maybe she’ll lose herself in work too. It isn't as fulfilling as the small acts of service she does for Tobias and Caitlyn, not at first.
It doesn't take very long for that to change.
・・・・・⟢ nobody does it like you do (i know how much it matters to you)
Caitlyn knew Vi would be coming home with something. She didn't expect a child, the child. Jinx’s.
But Jinx isn't here anymore. Vi is, with powder blue-grey eyes that almost beg her to keep the kid. She doesn't want to.
Just one look at those eyes and she knows she won't be able to live with herself if she stays. She is a living reminder of everything wrong with Caitlyn, and if it reminds her of the temple, then it must remind Vi too. Will she finally realize she deserves better and leave, when it's hard to ignore?
She already has a reminder of everything bad she's ever done. She still hasn't adjusted to her loss of sight. She doesn't want to adjust to a child too. Her eye at least, is a reminder of good too; that she paid the price to help restore peace. There is no good in the girl. Just that memory of a gun pointed at Vi, then another, and then one hurled at her. Just the memory of her sobs as Caitlyn left.
She didn't even look back. She didn't regret anything, carried up by anger and spite, until she got home and traces of Vi laid around her room despite her absence.
No, she does not want this kid within her house. There is already too many ghosts lingering here.
And yet she said yes.
She couldn't say no, not when Vi was looking at her like that, not knowing she had nothing to go back to, not seeing the girl’s scared amber eyes. She wonders if she’ll regret it. She's sure she will, but it isn't about her. It's about Vi, as it always has been.
And it's worth it, if it helps her. She knows Jinx’s loss weighs heavily on Violet, and she can tell by how she looks at.. Isha that this is helping her with it even slightly. She can't quite understand why, just assuming that it must satisfy something primal in her to take care of her sister’s stray when she cannot. Or well, her stray now, she supposes.
Vi quickly took on the role for her, even if it was unintentional. She knows it's not true that Isha is hers hers, just a lie to tell her father, but she's already begun to act like it and Isha has begun to treat her like it too. Maybe that's just how she is. She hasn't seen her with many kids, but she's always done wonderful with them and she knows she raised her sister. Taking care of a child must be second nature to her now, as it is not for Caitlyn.
She doesn't want it to be. She can help Vi raise her, if she wants, and can surely provide for them both. She does not want to be anything close to a mother to the child.
She never wanted kids, even though it was inevitable. As the sole Kiramann heiress, she would be expected to continue the line. She would have kids, but she didn't want them. Caitlyn wanted to be free, and she didn't want to force her own children into taking on the Kiramann legacy and be suffocated by it as she had. It changed a bit after meeting Vi. She had let herself fantasize after seeing her interact with one of the Firelight kids. At the time, it was just a simple fantasy of a stranger she was already far too attracted to.
But they stopped becoming strangers, and it stopped being just an idle fantasy. It became something she wanted if it was with Vi. She wanted Vi’s children to be her own, and knew they would be. Within hours of finding this girl, she's claimed her as her own and Caitlyn wants nothing to do with it.
She does not want to be a mother to this girl. She won't get attached to her. Shes only here because Vi wants, no, needs her here and Vi is hers and she can't take that from her. Living in the same house, and being her.. kind of girlfriend’s adoptive daughter doesn't mean anything.
She tells herself this, as she walks side by side with her father back to Vi and the child. Isha. Her father took it well, even better than she is maybe. He seems to not care that she isn't Caitlyn’s, just accepting she's here to stay and that she's a part of the family just by asossication to Vi. He seems a bit happy even to have a child back in the house. She can't say she is.
Her father immediately walks over to Vi, who has the little girl nestled up on her hip. They’re saying something about how she bites, and then what she’ll need but Caitlyn stands frozen.
Her hair is blue. She had forgotten that. It wasn't in the temple, and she barely saw her in the commune. It's almost identical to Jinx; the same shade, the twin braids, the scraps of metal tied around her hair. The only difference is the length and the brown peeking through. It makes her sick, and she feels guilty for how nasty of a look she must be giving this girl just for the crime of being her mother’s daughter.
She feels even worse at how terrified the kid looks. She's got her hands clutched tightly around Vi’s shirt, face buried into her side. Her eyebrows are furrowed, with a tight frown as if she's seen a ghost. Worst of all, she's looking at Caitlyn.
She feels ridiculous. This girl, just a child, has lost everything and has been on her own for weeks hurt and alone. She was an adult by all means when she lost her mother, and it destroyed her. She can't even imagine what Isha is feeling, and yet she can't stop looking at her like she is the same as her lookalike. She doesnt know why. She did nothing to her, an harnless girl she hurt, and Jinx is dead. Even when she was alive, she got over it for Vi.
And she can't stop holding this girl accountable for something innocent.
Is this how her father felt, after she passed away? Did he look at Vi and think you look like the girl who murdered my wife, I hate you for it; Did he look at Caitlyn and think you look so much like your mother it makes me sick?
She wonders if she's looking at Isha how her father looked at her. Still looks at her, sometimes.
Her and Isha have a staring contest until Tobias leaves. She falls asleep shortly after. Caitlyn continues to stare. She doesn't hear what Vi tells her.
─────────
It's been four days when she can't stand it anymore.
“Violet,” She tugs at her arm gently.
Vi hums, looking at her with those stunning eyes. She hesitates for a second, unsure if her request would be rude or insensitive.
“Isha..” Vi perks up at her name, eyes sharpening. “Her hair, can– would we be able to wash it out? If she lets us. I know she's her own person, it just looks like..” She trails off, knowing Vi will get it.
Vi looks at her, and she tries her best not to glance away from the intensity of her stare. She must find what shes looking for though, because she breaks the contact and gives a soft hum.
“Will it makes you feel better?”
Caitlyn nods, brushing hair out of Vi’s face with gentle hands. “I just keep looking at her and all I can see is just.. her. It makes me sick.”
Vi looks at her again, as she scratches at the closely shaved part of her hair. “I do too. She looks just like Powder did, ‘hard not to see her in the corner of my eye and not be teleported back.”
She's never seen Powder, but she assumes Isha must look even more like her than Jinx.
“But you wash it out. I'm not turning my hands blue.”
Caitlyn rolls her eyes. It takes 30 minutes to find Isha, then another to convince her to wash it out, but eventually they’ve wrangled her into the tub.
Isha is sitting with her legs crossed, fiddling with some toy duck in her arm. She tenses up when her head is tilted back, and water is spilled down her hair. Caitlyn coos in comfort, leaning over to make sure none got in her eyes. and pushing strands back as she does so.
Isha whines, and Caitlyn chuckles. “It’ll be over soon, promise.” She tells her, before continuing to rinse her hair. Blue clings to her fingers, not so much but noticeable enough.
She hums something she's heard Vi hum, she does it alot lately, and Isha joins her. The kid looks troubled, eyebrows furrowed like she's trying to remember how she knows it. Probably also Vi. She follows her adoptive mother around like a little duckling.
She lathers shampoo onto the girl’s hair, making a foamy mess of it. Isha groans when Caitlyn pulls her head back again to rinse it out. She starts scrubbing her hands against the blue to get it out, doing her best to be gentle. It stains her hands a bloody blue, but it's smothered beneath the soapy bubbles covering her handa.
It doesn't take very long to wash it out, which surprises her. All thats left is a few muted blue streaks. Isha stares hard in the mirror after.
─────────
Frankly, Sundays have always been quite pleasantly boring for her. She's used to associating it with a calm, peaceful day out with her mother.
Many things have changed in her life over the course of a few months. This is one of them. After her mother’s death, Sundays turned into just the end of the week. All the warmth and love ended too.
But she has that fuzziness back again, and she wants to keep the pattern up. So, she decides to bring Vi and Isha out every Sunday. Today, it's just Isha. Vi had stayed up all night, and had decided to sleep in today. It's no matter.
She still wakes Isha up around 12, getting her dressed and walking her hand in hand out of the Kiramann estate and into the streets of Piltover. Isha holds on tightly, unsure of Caitlyn but even more unsure of her surroundings. She's quite shy, she's noticed. She would be too though, it must be scary being only seven and having your world change completely in just a few weeks.
They get to the bakery-cafe just a few blocks down from the mansion fairly quickly. She pulls them along, wanting to get Isha inside as fast as possible. She doesn't seem to like the snow, or anything about winter, and Caitlyn doesn't like the thought of her being cold.
The warmth embrace of the shop is a breath of fresh air, and she sighs in relief at the cold seeping off her skin. She rubs Isha’s hand in hers, and walks to the register where one of the new workers stand. She's a woman, young, maybe a few years younger than her with soft blonde hair and big blue eyes. Caitlyn has only seen her once when a regular was training her.
“Oh, hello.”
The woman looks up from her notebook to them and gasps. Caitlyn’s eyebrows furrow.
“Your daughter is so cute! Just like a little doll all bundled up, how sweet,” The girl coos at her, looking down at Isha with a innocent smile.
“She's not–”
The protests fall weakly on her tongue, interrupted by the coo of the worker. Isha’s hand clutches tightly around her own hand and the fabric of her skirt. She doesn't mind the assumption though. She's got it quite a bit from strangers who must not know her or her family, and she's getting tired of explaining she's helping raise the girl who killed her mother’s kid with her girlfriend who isn't her girlfriend. She really needs to talk with Vi about that. She thinks they’re a bit past being friends.
The barista pulls back, looking at Caitlyn and maybe she does recognize her now because she suddenly looks embarrassed and shocked, like people often do when they do something in front of her they wouldn't do had they realized who she is.
“Oh, I'm sorry! Um, what can I get you two?” She asks nervously, stepping back and brushing off her pants.
Caitlyn holds back a sigh, looking to Isha and giving that quirk of her eyebrows that means roughly do you want what you always get? Isha nods in response, and Caitlyn orders.
“Just chamomile tea, thank you. She’ll have beignets and, hm, hot chocolate? Extra whipped cream on top.”
Isha grins at her, and she returns a faint smile in return before walking over to a table nestled in the corner. It's a bit more awkward without Vi here to help them descend into conversation. Isha seems content without talking, just kicking her legs and looking around at everyone else.
Caitlyn taps her nails on the wood of the table in some weird tune. Isha stares at it, and then after a few moments tries to mimic it but her nails aren't as long and it doesn't produce the same sound.
“Little parrot, arent you? Hope you dont take after Vi, or.. her sister too much.” She says, and Isha tilts her head. She looks down at her hands, making an ‘mmh’ sound, before she slowly signs something to Caitlyn. It's not a full strung together word, like Caitlyns been trying to teach her, but more of singled out letters pulled together to make one that she does for words she doesn't know how to do yet.
B I R D
“Yes! A parrot is a bird. The bright colorful ones, that can sometimes talk. You saw one in a book I think.” Isha nods, remembering and then gives the sign for teach. Caitlyn fiddles with her hands for a moment, attempting to think of the correct gestures, before showing her the sign for bird.
Isha copies it back in response, tilting her head and giving an ‘hmm?’ sound to ask if she's done it right. Caitlyn shakes her head, showing her the correct way, and they go at it until she's gotten it. She beams when she finally gets that smile that tells her she's done it.
She's in the middle of praising Isha for how much of a quick learner she is, clearly taking after the people she's been surrounded by, when the waiter interrupts them with their order. Isha gasps, as if she doesn't get the same thing everytime. Maybe its a Zaun thing, she always seems shocked by food much like Vi did when she first got her out. Like Vi, she too shovels anything in her mouth like it’ll be taken in seconds. The waiter peers down at her, and Caitlyn has to stop the sneer on her nose from how she's looking at Isha. She's a child. She can have some odd table manners if she’d like.
“Oh, Miss Kiramann, And.. the Zaunite’s daughter, what was her name again–”
She hums. She doesnt think people have quite got the memo, that Vi and Isha are more than just some charity case staying with her. Regardless of the situation, they don't deserve that tone or expression leveled against them.
“Hm, do you mean my girlfriend, Violet or our daughter, Isha?” She looks at her with a small smile, hand holding up her chin.
The waitress looks spooked, like she had realized her misstep. “I didn't– I'm sorry, I didn't know. Forgive me, miss Kiramann. It was a simple mistake.”
She hums, looking at Isha whos staring at them now. “It's quite alright. Mistakes happen, after all they help you learn not to make the same one twice.”
The waitress nods, placing down her tea infront of her before running off. She sips a bit. She wonders if she’ll be stupid enough to say anything about claiming Isha as hers. It might give her some entertainment, she's always delighted in making rumors despite how hard she would get scolded for doing so. Plus, people would think twice about treating Isha like she's dirt on their feet. None treats a Kiramann like that knowingly.
She sighs, stirring her tea before looking to Isha and laughing. The kid seems offended by this, a little self conscious look on her face and Caitlyn tries her best to silence her laugh into more of a quiet giggle. Isha pouts, pulling her legs up to her chest, and taking another bite of her beignets which just smear more powdered sugar on her face. She sneezes, and Caitlyn can no longer contain her laugh.
“I'm not– laughing at you I swear, you have powder all over your face,” She says and the brunette gives a little ‘mmph’ before trying to brush it off with her wrist. It only half works, and Caitlyn leans over to help her clean it off with a napkin.
She's rewarded a sharp little nod in response, something she's grown to recognize as her own way of thank you. She sits back in her chair.
“You really like those, huh? I could never eat the same thing everytime. I don't know how you do it.”
Isha looks at her, making an err sound before her hands hover in the air for a second. She's thinking of signs, surely.
Might be bad. Waste. No more.
She thinks of Violet’s “you can take the kid out of zaun, you can't take the zaun out of the kid,” saying. Zaunites function and think as if they’re still in Zaun, no matter where they are. They have a survival mode built into them that can't be turned off. Isha is no exception.
“Yes, you might not like it but there’ll always be more. If you don't want something, I’d just get you something else you like. There's no need to worry about that anymore.”
Isha stares, only breaking eye contact to nod and then sign a few more times.
For what? Give something back?
She shakes her head. “Never.”
Because you’re my.. other mom?
Caitlyn pauses. She didn't think Isha would hear that and think it's true. She doesn't know what to tell her either, she doesn't want to hurt her feelings or confuse her anymore.
“Kind of. Speaking of trying new things, I saw you eyeing that cookie the other day. You want me to get it for you?”
Isha lights up, and Caitlyn reflects her smile back at her. She ends up really enjoying it, and her order now includes a cookie.
She ends up liking it so much that Caitlyn decides to bake them for her at home. She learns Isha really, really enjoys baking and it becomes a new activity for them. Not Vi, she ends up only being a good cook, but she's glad her and Isha have something theirs.
Isha tries something new occasionally then on. Caitlyn smiles everytime.
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Isha accompanies her to some emergency council meeting that she doesnt think should really be an emergency, or a meeting at all.
Isha is the only thing keeping her from dying of boredom. She's signing things to Cait, and making noises of disapproval when other councilors say something stupid. It's mildly entertaining, a bit sad if she thinks too much about it.
She needs to find someone to represent Zaun and take her seat quick.
・・・・・⟢ so i keep you by my side, i will not give you to the tide
She's not quite sure when she began to let herself fantasize. It's a selfish little thought that just festers, never stopped or quieted despite her doubts.
She doesn't voice her desires though, until she does. Sex, Vi in general really, has always made her too honest, too willing to be vulnerable.
She's brushing hair out of Vi’s hair, caressing her face. She looks gorgeous and soft, bare and skin slicked with sweat. What tugs at her heart the most though is how she melts into her embrace, and then her eyes open. She looks almost like she did when Caitlyn had accepted she was in love with her, and wanted something more than she had ever wanted.
She thinks it might be that pulling a tangle of words out her throat, words she had never wanted to speak in fear of rejection. It just slips out.
“I wanna have a kid with you.”
Vi’s eyes bolt open, widening and she pulls her hand back when she realizes what she's said. She stares at her eyes, scared to see what they might tell, but she can't look away.
“What–”
“Not, um, a baby. Or maybe a baby. I’ll give you a baby if you want. But Isha, I want to be her mom too, if you’ll let me.. and then I wanna maybe marry you. Or be your girlfriend. Whatever you want.”
Vi stares at her, eyes flicking down her face and she's about to apologize until she's interrupted by their lips meeting again. They don't talk about it, not for a few more hours.
Vi is laying on top of her this time, panting dully against her chest. Caitlyn is staring into the ceiling, painting shapes into the masterpiece sitting on the skin of Vi’s back. She doesn't think she's mad, or maybe she is. It wouldn't be the first time they fucked when they were mad at eachother, but it didnt feel like that.
“Maybe not a baby, not yet at least. It's so soon, we just got Isha and there's so much work to do. I think that would be nice in a few years though, I couldn't imagine not having siblings. I want her to have one, or two.” Caitlyn nods.
“You want to do that, with me?”
Vi looks up at her and smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her already bit bloody lips.
“‘Course. I want whatever you’ll let me have with you, anythi– Oh, wait. I thought we were already married? Or atleast dating?”
Caitlyn scrambles.
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Apparently, there is much more they have to do and discuss. She doesnt get why Caitlyn can't just say Isha is her daughter too now, and that be it, but she guesses Piltover works differently and you don't get to pick kids off the street.
She likes hearing Caitlyn’s voice, and her face when she's hyperfixated on something is cute so she can't really complain about how much she's forced to engage in conversations she doesn't really understand or care about.
That's how she got here, spread over Caitlyn’s lap while her now official girlfriend plays with her hair. She's still tired from last night, a mix of how late they stayed up together and how thoroughly she pushed her body.
“Would you let me make Isha my heir? I kind of have to have a kid sometime, I doubt my father will be having anymore, and I don't want to force you to have a baby. Plus, Isha is perfect. She's smart, confident, empathetic and has all the traits of a good heir.” She counts them with her fingers, opening and closing them. “It's a big ask though. I don't want her to feel trapped by her name like I did, so she could always opt out or something.”
Vi hums.
“I don't see a problem with it yet, and you can make sure she doesn't feel how you did. Man, your mom would probably lose her shit if she knew you’re making some stray from Zaun your heir.”
Caitlyn scoffs. “She wouldn't. She’d love Isha and you if she was here, she’d just be glad I had an heir at all. I doubt my parents thought I’d ever settle down or really have a kid.”
She doesn't argue. She doesnt know Cassandra Kiramann, and Caitlyn has proved people are people. Even if she thinks all councilors are dicks that hate Zaun and everything born from it, that might not entirely be the truth. The world doesn't quite work like that.
Caitlyn taps delicate fingers against her skull, and she groans.
“Actually, she might have been upset about her not being a Kiramann in blood. I’ve seen what happens when heirs aren't born into their legacy. Criticized all their life, their claims never been seen as legitimate.. Maybe I shouldnt then. I don't want her to go through that.”
God, screw whoever paired her up with some fancy Kiramann and thank whoever made her born into Zaun instead of some stupid noble family.
“I don't know, just say she's your blood kid then? You’re a Kiramann. None will or can question it, if you say it.”
Caitlyn’s fingers stop. “Huh. I guess I could. I mean, we already tell people she's yours biologically and they believe it, but that makes sense. It doesn't for me. Isha looks nothing like me, and every media station in Piltover would be all over it if I had a kid back then. And if it gets out..”
Vi yawns.
“Sounds simple to me. You were with alotta girls as a teen, right, just say I was another one of them and that we didn't know until now or something. And just like um, forge one of those fancy things for proof. Boom. Problem solved.”
Caitlyn nods, taking that into account. She ends up debating it over the days, often asking Vi how it would go.
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DNA RESULTS
Patient - Isha Lane
99.9% match to Violet Lane
99.9% match to Caitlyn C. Kiramann
Probability of Parentage - 99.9%
STATEMENT
The alleged mother cannot be excluded as the biological non-birthing mother to the tested child. Based on the analysis listed on the next page, it is extremely likely C.C Kiramann is the second parental half with an 99.9% percent.
I, the undersigned laboratory director, verify that the interpretation of the results is correct as reported.
・・・・・⟢ ill even walk you in my stride
Isha has turned 10 years old today. It feels just as scary as her own 10th nameday.
She wonders if she's thinking the same as Caitlyn did, if she's wondering how many Kiramanns have walked these steps before her, what they were like.
She wonders if oneday Isha will be the one standing on top of them, waiting. She wonders if she will be there to see it.
Caitlyn wishes her mother could be here, looking at her daughter crowning her own child just as she crowned her years ago.
She places the crown on top brunette waves with shaking hands. She has tears in her eyes. Isha smiles bright.
I don't ever want to lose you. I’ll die before I let myself lose you.
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