Truce?
Sometimes, it's not you who's wrong, it's the world—the words hung over her like a dandelion fluff; a speck of dust, too small to deserve acknowledgement, but so white. A testament to an impossibility; snow in July.
Whatever I want it to… huh?
The Progress conference was in full swing; academics dotting the grand entrance hall with their uniforms and crests on full display. Ambassadors, skulking about the room like vultures, ready to pounce on any possible golden goose that might appear. Jayce, for one, was quite the centre of their attention. The glint of hope in their narrowed eyes was hard to miss as Caitlyn had to firmly push their offers off the proverbial table, before Jayce would be tempted by whatever they had on display.
She'd accompanied Jayce in his talks, but defaulted to the role of a Kiramman house representative, correcting his words and behavior when necessary and keenly listening to the tidbits of knowledge that passed from mouth to mouth—something Caitlyn quite enjoyed. The passion in their eyes was a reprieve from her day to day, fueling her curiosity about the vastness of both the world and discovery beyond. The stars, being all but flaming gas giants in the sky. The wind in her ears, some kind of friction between specks of air and the ground beneath her feet. Even the changing of the seasons, when the sky would tilt above—the earth beneath her feet, instead, changing course like a ship upon the ocean waves.
Her fascination, deprived from her by her mother's will.
But, she was not here, now was she?
She could indulge her curiosity with questions that bordered on ignorance—and Jayce, attempting his best to explain without appearing condescending. The title of 'Lady' had some eyes rolling as she wore but suitpants and riding boots, and mutters of distaste and imrpopriety echoed along the walls at times. But, they'd know if they had ever donned a dress, just how freeing it was to wear a coat instead of a corset.
Her favorite navy vest hugged her body like an old friend she hadn't seen in years. Her midnight tailcoat danced around her waist and shoulders like the silken sheets of her bed-covers in the early morning. The true epidemy of comfort.
But of course, not all was well in her little world—the Vanderson siblings were a riot in any room they entered, gossip trailing behind them like a shadow. The eldest, a womanizer, ill-mannered, bad tempered and improper—something she had the misfortune of experiencing herself.
The name he'd used still hung over her like a noose around her throat, and soured her mood like rain on a clear day.
But the youngest was… nowhere to be seen, as her gaze bounced across the room in search of the little blue prodigy. It would make sense he wouldn't bring her to such an event if he was so adamant on being ‘protective’ of her. But, if she recalled correctly, that sister of his was the one specifically invited to the event, no?
Caitlyn resisted rolling her eyes at the man’s behavior. All talk and smiles, sneaky winks and flirtatious comments. There was a twinge of sourness in his expression when their eyes met, but soon shifted as his attention was drawn elsewhere.
“Right, Ca- I mean, lady, Kiramman?” Jayce held the straightest posture he could manage, nudging her with his folded elbow.
“Of course. We're looking to fund new inventions for the well-being of the common people.” Caitlyn reiterated to those gathered around them, earning a few modest nods and curious glances.
“Right, and Viktor has been grumbling about the state of prosthetics for one.” Jayce added, much to Caitlyn’s dismay. "They're not affordable nor sturdy enough for the common folk."
“Prosthetics aren't the only way to improve the lives of commoners. I believe our attention should lie elsewhere for the time being.” She bit back at his comment, veiling her words with a smile.
“Cait—”
The lights dimmed above them, the magnificent glass ceiling drawn shut by shutters as a member of the council took the stage. The bustling conversation quieted into a soft murmur, hanging within the room like a cloud of mist.
Caitlyn welcomed the interruption as Jayce was pulled aside, and escorted on stage.
He'll make a fool of himself up there, one of these days…
Jayce fiddled around with the clipboard, placing it down on the podium as he skimmed over the words nervously, mustering up his natural charm and golden smile for the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen, by the decree of the council, I'm standing here before you all to deliver the speech of this year’s winter conference—there’s plenty of young minds out there, minds that have spent countless hours, slumped down behind a desk and crafting theories of how to push ourselves forward into the next era of Piltover’s progress—”
Every word he read tasted more foul on his mouth than the last; A wine without any depth. Bread without the butter. Flavor without taste.
He'd grown up, sheltered, but through sheer luck, he had the chance to meet Viktor in the academy; a lanky, scrawny and all-around sickly looking honor student with no house or last name, rotting away in underachievement despite his advanced designs.
The prosthetics he created changed his world—their world, and the lives of the people who had access to them, Jayce’s mother included.
The look on her face when she could finally hold a pencil in her hands again…
He could never forget the favor he'd done him.
“—minds like I once had, until I delved deeper into the lives of the common people with the help of my colleague, Viktor.” Jayce sighed.
That one favor had tied them together under the Kiramman household's sponsorship. Even when they were closer than ever, they seemed to drift further and further apart.
The revolutionary prosthetics were not used for the common people, but only those that could afford it. He worked tirelessly to make them sturdy from cheaper and cheaper materials, hoping they could help people in need.
And it stung deeper than any wound, knowing that mother's without hands could not care for their families nor work. Fathers without legs who could not walk on their own…
Jayce could not do anything on his behalf.
Even now, he had essentially betrayed Viktor, bringing Caitlyn with him instead of his lab-partner—why? Because she needed it more?
It was just an excuse to hide behind.
He was afraid of confronting Viktor.
Afraid that he would remain spiteful against him for being as oblivious and naive as he was. All of his achievements, falling upon Jayce’s shoulders.
“He may not have a house, or a name, but that doesn't mean his brilliance is outshined by the glamor of a noble child. He is a tenacious man, a dreamer, like myself, with a heart far better than most of us.”
But the words, regardless, kept pouring out of him. He wanted to dedicate this moment to him, to take a step forward in improving the system for the sake of young academics, like Viktor, before his illness would take him.
For the young minds like Powder, rotting away under the same conditions as Viktor; all of her achievements, stolen by upperclassmen of higher titles.
Her prosthetics were mind-boggling… proper, delicate joint articulation bordering on the impossible, able to hide attachments and not quite as heavy as most others—Viktor’s dream, so close within their grasp
And yet, the brother—annoyingly protective of her, likely knowing their capabilities.
What surprised Jayce the most was the girl, contacting him secretly through a letter.
She too shared the same heart; the same mind. A true prodigy, deserving of the spotlight. Jayce wouldn't let that light dim like Viktor's.
He was determined to make right of what he couldn't before, hoping his sincerity would reach Viktor through his actions.
“I once believed that math can solve any problem, like the council seems to believe pretty words and empty promises on paper is enough to invoke change. In reality, we need action. We need to take the lead, and to implore you to do the same, I have chosen to take the initiative in contacting a brilliant mind with the same aspirations we all share; to improve. To progress. Please welcome Powder Vanderson!”
What was he doing!?
Caitlyn’s head snapped in the direction of the spotlight, aimed at the blue haired Vanderson sister walking eagerly up to the podium.
Vi seemed to have the very same questions, finding Caitlyn within the crowd with haste and grabbing her by the arm. “What the hell!? I thought I told you to stay away from her!” Anger flickered in those silver tinted eyes.
“I know as much, or as little, as you.” She yanked her arm out of his grip. “So please, be sure to maintain your temper. We're in public.”
“Don’t fuck with me, you're after her research aren't you? What, you want to make weapons now? You gonna use her prosthetics to spill more blood? Huh? You're all goddamn vultures and we both know it!”
Caitlyn scoffed at his behavior. “That’s rich coming from you—you’re the people who have more to gain from my house’s connections. What, did you go behind my back to orchestrate this? To drag my good name through the mud? Are you trying to claw your way to genuine aristocracy after getting this high?”
“Of all the stubborn, arrogant ass-hat snobs… Fine. Fine!” Her arms flew up, and landed on her hips.
She was absolutely fuming—Powder went behind her back on this. Not even a fleeting mention. Not even her usually stubborn ‘I don't need protecting’ tantrum.
Nothing.
And that stung her the most. Her sister, seeking the help of vultures who would jump at the opportunity to get their hands on her research, instead of consulting her first.
“Truce?” She asked abruptly with an extended hand. She'd be angry at everyone else later, first, came Powder and making sure she'll be absolutely safe in the future.
Caitlyn rolled her eyes at the sudden change of behavior and the extended hand offered to her. She glanced between the hand and Jayce, standing up there like the fool he is. “Mother should've pushed his politics harder… fine. I accept your damned truce.” Caitlyn shook the hand briefly, but even in that brief moment, her eyebrows shot up. His grip was quite firm, for someone of his size.
But her attention was drawn back to Jayce as his nervous chuckles were caught on the mic.
Jayce… of all the idiotic, moronic and foolish moves…
‘If your mother gets any ideas, I'll handle it.’
‘You'll handle it’ my ass.
Vi’s eyes trailed helplessly after Powder, the spotlight chasing the back of her head up to the stage as she gleefully took the stand.
“By Janna's whim…” She muttered, stressed out of her mind. How many more wolves is this going to attract?
They were already having a hard time, trying to do anything on their own—and now, Powder just had to get them involved with THE Kirammans.
Her gaze shot back down—or, well, up to—Caitlyn’s annoyingly tall frame. “So, what do we do? Can we even stop this from happening?” She sighed in utter defeat, her hands sinking in her pockets.
“We can't do anything as is; we can only let it play out and deal with the aftermath ourselves.” She whispered back to the fidgeting redhead. Caitlyn slid a palm over his shoulder, pulling him closer to her side. “I assure you, no harm will come to either of our houses as long as we put up a co-operative front for the time being.”
“And I told you; we aren't a house.” Vi swung a step away from her as if she'd gravely insulted her, casually dusting off the shoulder she'd touched. “Get it through your feathered head, bluebird.”
“Stop acting so hostile.” Caitlyn feigned a smile at the folk, eyeing the two of them like scavengers. “Like it or not, our hands are tied for the moment.”
“I- I, uh. Never thought I'd get to be up here, seeing where I come from.” Powder’s nervousness was clear in her voice. “But, as sir Talis explained, I am eager to share with you all that I will be working closely with sir Talis and his colleagues to refine and research more advanced prosthetics for the sake of commoners and all of you!”
Vi hated how right Caitlyn was.
“Now, please, enjoy the rest of today’s events!” Jayce announced swiftly before rushing off stage and escorting powder out of the conference hall.
“Fine.” His hands flew to his sides with a loud thwack as his suit snagged on his shoulders. As much as she hated high society, Caitlyn was… better than most she'd met. So far, she hasn't tried to spill wine on her face or slap her out in the open.
It couldn't be that bad to just lean on her a little, for Powder's sake. Right?
“What the hell do I gotta do for this whole damage control thing?”