#matchamilkislover

Clapping resounded in the large room, but you paid the sound no attention. Yours and Abby’s gazes were still locked on each other, like you were caught in a dance to see who would break away first. Finally, she gently kissed the top of your hand and released it, standing to tower over you with her tall, built form. The simple kiss on your hand made your heart speed up unexplainably, and you swallowed and quickly pulled it down to your side, burying your hands in the skirts of your gown. Abby’s gaze, however, was still locked on you, and you looked down and then around the room to avoid her gaze. What in the world was going on?

Realizing that everyone else in the room had moved on from the ceremony and started milling about, you too decided that it was time to go, clearing your throat before stepping out of place to find Nina. Abby opened her mouth and looked like she was about to reach out and say something to you, but was interrupted by members of the court starting to swarm and try to steal her attention. Thank god, you thought to yourself, dashing away before court members could swarm you, too.

A hand suddenly fell on your shoulder as your eyes searched the room for your lady’s maid, and you cursed in your head, turning to see which Lord or Lady (or worse, daughter or son) had gotten their claws into you. You would’ve breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that it was one of your own siblings if it wasn’t George.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’d just seen a ghost, little sister,” he teased, that shit-eating grin of his spreading across his face. You just rolled your eyes and turned to face him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, George,” you lied, brushing his hand off your shoulder and crossing your arms. He laughed.

“Oh sure. She’s the one you always attended lessons with, right? Yeah, she was fun,” he replied casually.

“If by fun you mean insufferable, then sure,” you retorted. “Please, you only liked her because she supported your shenanigans.”

He lifted his hands humorously. “Hey, you got me there. It’s nice to feel appreciated once in a while.” You sighed and started visually searching the room again, hangover still leaving you in a mood not quite fit for George’s lovely personality.

“I’m sure it is. But you’re a big boy, so if you could entertain yourself so I can get away from this lovely conversation, that would be great,” you finally huffed and quickly strode away, back on the hunt for Nina. Finding her meant finding breakfast and a nice rant session. And, you thought as your head throbbed again, a lot of water.

“There you are!” A familiar voice squealed as you moved about the cavernous room. You instantly smiled.

“Oh, Nora, thank goodness,” you squealed back as your eyes landed on your friend approaching just from your left. The two of you met with joining hands, squeezing comfortably.

“Are you alright? You looked entirely shocked to see Knight Anderson up there,” Nora inquired, her brows furrowing in concern. You sighed for what felt like the millionth time on this already exhausting day.

“I’m fine, I just didn’t really expect to see her, that’s all,” you replied, trying your best to brush off the way your heart pounded in your chest. You really wished it would stop that. Nora suppressed a knowing smile.

“She’s certainly changed a lot, hasn’t she,” Nora noted with waggling eyebrows.

“Nora,” you gasped, fighting the urge to smile with her. “You know good and well my opinion of her, so you can stop that now!” Though it felt genuine to you, your retort was unconvincing, and Nora simply rolled her eyes.

“Are you seriously still hung up on that? It’s been what, 8 years?”

“9,” you interrupted. “It’s been 9.” Nora rolled her eyes again.

“Close enough. If you want to hold a grudge, that’s fine by me, but I am going to enjoy this while I can,” she teased, sauntering away as you gasped again and feigned reaching out to hit her playfully as she walked away.

Finally, you spotted Nina waiting patiently for you near the edge of the room and let out a breath of relief. You approached her quickly, and her face lit up as you neared, feeling much less awkward when she was with you rather than being alone as a lady’s maid without her princess. You easily hooked your elbow with hers as you took a spot next to her, desperate to seem too occupied to socialize with anyone else.

“Can we please get out of here?” You begged through the clenched teeth of your plastered smile, nodding gracefully to people who passed you like nothing was wrong. Nina almost giggled.

“Yes of course, princess,” she replied, the two of you stepping forward and turning to the door.

“Why does everyone keep giggling at me?” You questioned, again through clenched teeth.

“Excuse me for my bluntness, but your reaction to Knight Anderson was quite entertaining,” she replied, still suppressing giggles.

“My reaction? What reaction?! I was under the impression my face was quite neutral, thank you!” You replied in a way that was almost offended.

“You just seemed quite surprised to see her, is all,” Nina explained gently. “I highly doubt someone who doesn’t know you well would have noticed, princess,” she reassured as the pair of you finally approached the large doors that would lead you out of this blasted throne room.

“It’s not my fault no one told me she of all people would be my new knight! You would be caught off-guard too if you were me!” You retorted, trying to keep your voice to a whisper despite your urge to raise it.

“All I’m saying, princess, is that-” Nina’s reply was cut off by a voice ringing out over the chatter of the crowd to you.

–

In terms of the aftermath of the ceremony for Abby, it was certainly a wave of attention — attention she didn’t want even one bit, especially when the only person she really wanted to talk to was you. Judging by your reaction, you certainly hadn’t been expecting to see her. Hell, she hadn’t been expecting to see you either until maybe 10 days ago. But it seemed like no one had bothered to inform you that she would be your new knight.

“Knight Anderson?” a voice asked, bringing Abby out of her thoughts and back to the many people surrounding her in the throne room.

“Hmm?” She replied, clearly having zoned out and not heard whatever the woman had said. She was quite a sight to take in, with gaudy clothing and a tight, pointed face. The woman smiled, but it looked more like a sneer.

“Oh, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Lady Ulfrid, I’m new here as well. I was just wondering, Queen Arabella spoke quite highly of your accomplishments, and it must be so for you to be a personal knight for her youngest daughter. What might these so-called accomplishments be, I might ask?” Lady Ulfried sneer-smiled again, and this time, Abby couldn’t help but feel like Abby saw the expressions just as they were. She was questioning her.

Raising an eyebrow, Abby let a smirk dance on the corners of her mouth and adjusted her stance. “Well, I was top of my class in training, but that’s not the answer you’re looking for, is it? So what would you like to hear about? The battles I led in our recent land conflicts with Chryiont? Or the ones I led 2 years ago in Dungard? Or was it my successful takedown of the great Pirate Duke? You’ll need to be more specific, my lady,” Abby replied with a knowing smile, satisfied by the woman’s widening eyes.

“Oh, well, I- I just meant, um-, well,” Lady Ulfrid floundered, and it satisfied something a little sadistic within Abby. She was tired of being questioned because of her age, much less her gender, and it felt nice to make people who questioned her then question themselves instead.

“Don’t worry,” she replied, cutting off the woman and leaning down to her height. “I think I know exactly what you mean.” She smirked, and stood back to full height as Lady Ulfrid’s face reddened and she sped away from the knight, muttering something incoherent under her breath.

Turning to scan the rest of the room with her hands clasped behind her back, Abby suddenly realized that talking to Lady Ulfrid had made her lose sight of you. Last she saw, you were talking with one of your court friends — Nora, was it? — and now you had completely disappeared. Something about this felt oddly familiar. Right as she thought she caught a flash of your dress — god, that dress made you look something unearthly — another person tapped on her arm, and she nearly groaned before turning and seeing who it was.

“Long time no see, huh Anderson?” George asked with a sheepish grin, pulling her in for a one-handed hug. Abby grinned back and returned the hug gladly.

“Too long,” she replied easily. “But you know, I don’t think I can condone your shenanigans now,” she continued teasingly. George laughed with a wide, open mouth, patting Abby on the arm.

“Yeah, well, I’ll just have to figure out a way around you,” he replied jokingly.

Abby chuckled and shook her head. Suddenly remembering that she had been looking for you, she snapped to attention, scanning the room quickly. Finally, she spotted you nearing the exit with your lady’s maid, and she patted George on the arm as a farewell before starting after you.

“Princess!” She called, nearly jogging across the room and swiping between different huddles of people. “Princess!”

—

Your smile dropped when you heard Abby calling after you. Shit. While you stood there trying to accept that Abby Anderson would be constantly on your heel from now on, Abby caught up, slowing to stop and face you. You looked at her, expecting her to say something, but she just stared back.

And you both kept staring.

Looking at her felt like seeing a dear old friend and someone entirely foreign to you all at the same time. Like two winds hitting you from opposite directions, pushing the breath out of your lungs and filling them back up all in one motion. She was so different but so familiar, it made you want to both run away and never leave her presence all at once. You didn’t even realize you were staring, studying her like art in a museum, until Nina loudly cleared her throat beside you.

Whoops.

You came to a start and also cleared your throat awkwardly, nodding to Abby as a delayed greeting as you shared an uncomfortable look with Nina. “Well, uh…I, we…it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” You remarked awkwardly. This was already going terribly.

“It has,” Abby confirmed with a nod. You pursed your lips.

“Well, uh, I suppose we should get going, shouldn’t we, princess?” Nina asked timidly, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, yes, of course,” you replied quickly, nodding and turning with Nina to return on course to your chambers.

You grimaced uncomfortably in Nina’s direction, and she returned the look apologetically. Abby looked like she had wanted to say something else, but instead bit her tongue and followed the two of you silently. The walk through the corridors was painfully quiet, you unconsciously straining to listen to the sound of Abby’s footsteps behind your own, hyper aware of her proximity to you. For someone who called her despicable the last time you had seen each other, you were certainly strangely invested in even the smallest movements of Abby Anderson.

Once you and Nina were safely inside your chambers, with Abby standing in place just outside your door, you flopped into a chair, rubbing your forehead. “This day has got to be some twisted sort of dream,” you moaned, slipping off your shoes one at a time. Nina simply suppressed a giggle and shushed you.

“These walls are not as thick as you wish them to be,” she reminded you in a hushed voice, perching in a chair adjacent to yours while she awaited your breakfast request. You pouted and sighed.

“I truly don’t understand why nobody told me she would be my new knight! I mean, she disappeared the day after we had our millionth argument 9 years ago, and now, out of the blue, she’s going to be right behind me 24/7? Guarding me? Protecting me like someone’s out for my blood? It’s just…fucking insane!” You whisper-yell, frustration bubbling over now that it was just you and Nina. Well, and Abby, waiting just outside the door.

Nina sighed, knowing that she should try to make you feel better, even though she couldn’t help but agree with how you felt. “The queen does what she does for a reason, I’m sure. With you being young and the whispers I hear from the other servants, I’m not surprised she wants a trusted eye on you,” she replies in a quiet voice. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, nodding.

“I know, I know. It’s just frustrating that not a single soul ever bothers to tell me anything. I mean, I would have really liked a warning that the girl I basically grew up with was not only returning to the palace as a knight, but my personal knight, and, to make matters worse, she looks like—” you gesture wildly to the door, “—that! How am I supposed to deal with that!?” you exclaim, your whisper lifting a little. Nina starts giggling uncontrollably, and after a minute you join her, if only because of the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“I think,” Nina says, taking a deep breath once her giggles finally subside, “that some breakfast and a lot of water might help make you feel better, hmm? Maybe a tonic from Dr. Anderson?” Nina offers kindly.

“Yes, please, you’re a saint, Nina,” you reply, rubbing your forehead again as the throbbing pushes forward. “But, no tonic, actually, please—I can’t handle being embarrassed by asking Abby’s father for a hangover cure the first day she returns, I think I might keel over from sheer embarrassment,” you finish with a groan. Nina chuckles and nods, standing from her perch.

“Whatever you say, princess,” she says with a pat on your shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, she pushes the door open and exits the room, mumbling an awkward greeting to Abby that makes you cringe from sheer discomfort.

Sighing, you look around at the chaos that is your room after this morning’s rushed preparation activities, and decide that the least you can do even with this raging hangover is make your bed. You stand determinedly and approach the bed, pulling back layer after layer neatly to then arrange each one on top of the last. It’s a bit awkward with the shuffling of your dramatic skirt around the edge of the opulent bed frame, but you manage to make it work.

You’re tucking in the last corner of your many blankets when an unfamiliar knock on the door catches you off guard, and you get stuck pulling your hand out from beneath the mattress. You pull harder and harder, gritting your teeth and kicking yourself mentally for the ridiculousness of it all. Stupid fucking mattress, you groan mentally as you pull, why is this thing so goddamn heavy!? With one exceptionally strong pull, your hand rips free from its feather-filled prison, only for the momentum to send you falling backwards into a heavy sofa behind you, the collision making a crashing sound that mixes oh so wonderfully with the surprised shriek that leaves your mouth. You catch yourself just barely on an arm of the sofa, but have no time to process what just happened when Abby comes barging into the room, eyes wide as she searches for you.

Just perfect.

You both stare at each other like deer in headlights when your eyes meet, unsure of what to do. It’s Abby who breaks the silence first.

“Are you alright, princess?” She asks in a concerned tone, walking over to you gingerly. Her large form seems almost unnatural in your space, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the proportions.

“Um, yes, I’m fine, I just…fell,” you explain awkwardly, cheeks going pink. You stand straight and pull your hand off the sofa arm, hissing quietly when the friction stings on your pointer finger. Looking down to inspect it, you notice a long splinter shoved inside of the skin and grimace.

“You just fell?” Abby asks quizzically, raising an eyebrow as she eyes the splinter.

“Well, I, um— I got my hand stuck, and when I pulled it out, I guess I pulled too hard and just…fell…” Your voice trails off as you look from her to the bed and back to your hand, touching the splinter gingerly and hissing again.

Abby nods, humming in understanding. “I see…do you need help, um, with that?” She asked, gesturing to the splinter.

“Oh no, I’ve—I’ve got it,” you reply casually, trying to hide the clenching of your jaw when you gently pull on the slice of wood. Abby opens her mouth to ask if she can help again, but you're already setting your jaw and pulling the splinter firmly, gasping at the more intense stinging when it slips out of your skin. A large bead of blood immediately forms on the spot, hinting to a stream, and your face pales at the sight as you bite your lip and look away, eyes searching for a handkerchief.

Your breath quickens in panic as you search, just the thought of the blood now seeping out of your finger making your breath quicken and your heartbeat skyrocket. A warm hand on yours and the feeling of a handkerchief being dabbed on your finger pulls you out of your growing panic, and you look to see Abby ever so gently holding your hand in one of your own while the other dabs the blood from your finger with a handkerchief.

“I remember one time when we were 9, you fell and scraped your knee on the stone while we were running in the garden, and you were very nearly screaming,” Abby said suddenly as she looked at your finger. “I guess I was right to assume that fear hadn’t changed much,” she continued, chuckling. A breathy chuckle left your mouth in return, gaze still focused on her hands touching your own.

“I never did have the stomach for it, did I?” You responded quietly, a gentle smile dancing on your lips. “I guess some things never change.”

“Yes,” Abby agreed, “some things never really change, do they?” She spoke in nearly a whisper, eyes finally glancing up to meet yours. Your breath caught in your throat, heartbeat slowing as you gazed into the stormy blue of her eyes.

“I guess not,” you whispered.

The sudden rapt knocking of Nina’s small fist and her pushing the door into your room ripped both of you out of the trance you had been in, you grabbing the handkerchief and holding it to your finger while Abby’s hands dropped yours and she stood at attention. Her mouth opened like she was about to announce her arrival before she spotted the two of you standing unusually close, and her movement stopped, brows immediately furrowing in confusion.

“I— We—“ you started.

“She fell!” Abby nearly shouted, her expression unsure. “She fell and I heard the commotion, so I came in, and she, um, got a splinter,” she finished, gesturing toward your hand. You raised your handkerchief covered finger as proof, and Nina nodded slowly. You weren’t quite sure why you felt like you had been caught doing something wrong, but it certainly did, and you certainly weren’t sure how to feel about it.

Abby cleared her throat, and nodded to the still open door. “Well, um, I should…yeah,” she stuttered, nodding a goodbye to both of you before returning to her post outside of the door that she closed behind herself.

As soon as the latch clicked, Nina’s eyes were on you like a hawk, and you were retreating back to where you had been sitting with your face in your hands. “Did I seriously just see that?” She asked incredulously, bringing a tray of food over with her and setting it on a small table. You nodded, face still in your hands, but you were quickly coaxed out by the smell of the food.

“I was just trying to make my stupid bed, and my stupid hand got stuck under the stupid mattress, and I fell pulling it out and got a splinter on my finger, and then it started bleeding when I pulled it out, and…yeah. That’s about it,” you poured the words out quickly, immediately feasting and downing large gulps of water when you finished. Nina simply nodded knowingly and watched, nibbling on a piece of toast as you ate.

“Y’know, that didn’t seem very despicable to me,” she remarked after a few minutes of comfortable silence, a mischievous grin growing on her face.

“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, turning an annoyed glance at her. “Are you going to keep being like this? It was just an awkward situation,” you complained, shoving another piece of fruit in your mouth. Nina laughed and nodded.

“I’m sorry, princess, but it’s been just too easy,” she retorted, still laughing. You rolled your eyes, but inside, your heart still skipped a beat every once in a while, thinking about her calloused, warm hands encapsulating yours, and her deep eyes gazing into yours like nothing else existed in the world.

You seriously needed to distract yourself if you were going to survive this.

⊹ ⋆｡˚ ————————— 𓆩♡𓆪 —————————⊹ ⋆｡˚

“Princess, you really do need to get up.”

You groaned, rolling over in your excessively comfortable bed as your lady’s maid, Nina, started forcefully pulling the many blankets you had covering you off. Your proper mind knew that she was right, that you needed to get ready, but the pounding in your head begged otherwise; and right now, the pounding side was winning. You tried to sit up and open your eyes, but the bright sunlight instantly blinded you, causing you to groan and fall back again. Nina sighed.

“Either you get up, or I’m calling George and he can drag you out himself.”

That made you sit up. You’d had enough of your second eldest brother ripping you out of bed throughout your childhood to last a lifetime. Your legs already felt a phantom soreness at just the thought.

“Okay, okay, I surrender, I’m up…” you grumbled, swinging your legs over the edge of the mattress and tenderly standing on the cold floor. Nina rolled her eyes as she started gathering materials for you to bathe.

“I told you to ease up on the wine last night,” she scolded as you started shedding your nightclothes and trudged to your washroom.

You rolled your eyes in response and yawned. “Don’t judge me! You would let loose a little too if you knew it was your last night before getting assigned another overbearing knight,” you replied dramatically. These were the times that you both loved and resented that you and Nina had known each other since childhood; sometimes she knew you a little too well. Nina just chuckled and followed you.

A while later, you were clean and dry. And cold. You shivered as Nina helped you slip layer after layer of your intricate clothing on your body. “Why is it so frigid in here this morning? I can literally hear the fire going,” you whined as another shiver made your arms shake. Nina shrugged as she picked up another layer.

“The mornings have been getting colder lately,” Nina remarked thoughtfully. “Perhaps an off the shoulder dress wasn’t the best decision the seamstress could’ve made for today’s gown.” She grimaced as she eyed the off the shoulder masterpiece waiting to be adorned.

Your pout spoke for you. Even so, you had to admit the gown was rather lovely. The gauzy pink seemed to shimmer in the light, and you couldn’t help but stare at it in the mirror once you had finally put it on. Nina, however, still anxiously watched the time and rushed to finish getting you ready.

For whatever reason, one you weren’t exactly keen on understanding, being assigned a personal knight was something of a ceremony in the royal family, and was therefore to be treated as such. And ever since your former knight, Mattheo, had resigned not even a fortnight ago to wed and begin a life outside of his knighthood, you had been assigned a rotation of lower knights while a replacement was decided on. While you couldn’t blame Mattheo for wanting to have a different life and a family, you couldn’t help but resent his leaving just a little bit; he had been your personal knight since you were young, and you had grown to trust him like an uncle or a father. Whatever young, overconfident knight you would be assigned now would not be nearly as tolerable, of that you were certain.

Nina’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and reawakened the pounding in your head. “Princess? Princess, we’ve got to go,” she harped, placing a guiding hand on your back. “Wouldn’t want to keep everyone waiting.” You nodded in agreement and started walking, trying your best to hide the grimace pulling at your face.

You could barely keep up with Nina’s quick steps as you navigated the corridors of the palace, your shoes clicking on the polished stone floors. “Nina,” you muttered through panting breaths, “You know you can slow down a little bit, right? It really isn’t that serious,” you pointed out. Nina shook her head.

“Sorry, princess, but I’m under strict orders to get you there on time. Promised the queen,” she replied with a wink sent your way. Your mouth gaped while your brows furrowed.

“Seriously? For a knight assignment? The fuck…” you muttered back, still grumpy from your hangover and unending headache. Nina clicked her tongue at you in disapproval.

“Princess! Language!” she scolded, holding back a giggle and not quite managing to suppress a tickled smile. You made an amused face in response and you both had to struggle to hold down your laughs as you passed knights and members of the court in the long corridors.

As you finally turned onto the corridor leading to the throne room, Nina cleared her throat to get your attention. “Please try your best not to seem hungover, princess,” she muttered through clenched teeth, “lest the queen come for my head.” You both stifled one last giggle before the doors to the throne room opened, and your arrival was announced to the small crowd standing inside.

You took a steadying breath, blanking your face as you delicately walked forward, desperately hiding your fight not to wobble in these godforsaken shoes. You kept your gaze steady on the front of the room, not wanting to risk an offhand glance at the crowd interrupting your focus.

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief when you reached the front and stood in place amongst your siblings, ignoring George’s knowing smirk and Elyssa’s disapproving look. Like always, your eldest brother, Philip, stayed as stone-faced as ever, and Henry, the fourth sibling, gave his best attempt at matching Philip’s ever-serious mood. Although he was closest to you in age, only being 18 months older, the two of you couldn’t be more different. He never seemed to possess the itch for mischief and adventure that you did, and instead followed your eldest brother like a puppy and tried to copy his every trait. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes and turned towards the rest of the room.

Glancing at you to acknowledge your arrival, your parents rose as one, and your mother’s voice rang out in the spacious throne room. “Welcome, esteemed guests and friends, as we conduct our youngest daughter’s knight reassignment ceremony on this lovely morning. As many of us know, our youngest has quite the…lively spirit, and as she reaches marrying age, we’ve found it impertinent that we find a unique knight to ensure her safety amidst the happenings of that lively spirit.” A soft chuckle carried through the room, and you had to suppress another eye roll as your mother – the “ever-esteemed” queen – basically called you a burden who needed watching. Great. Exactly what you needed this morning.

Your mother continued her speech. “While the knight we’ve chosen for her assignment may not have the age to match her rank, her experience and accomplishments make her quite the perfect match to guard our lovely daughter. Thus, Knight Anderson, will you please approach?”

Your mind came to a sudden stop. ‘Her’? Your new knight was to be a female knight? Well that certainly makes things more interesting. And her name…Anderson. It sounded oddly familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. A young female knight, a respected, high-ranking one at that, was to be Mattheo’s replacement? Certainly she wouldn’t be quite as easy to slip past. But you had gotten creative over the years…

Your racing thoughts mixed with your eyes searching the crowd for this ‘Knight Anderson’, but came to a sudden halt when the knight finally stepped through to the front of the crowd, and the sight of her left your mouth hanging ever so slightly ajar. Although it had certainly matured since the last time you saw her, you would recognize that face anywhere.

9 YEARS AGO

Abigail Anderson was going to be the death of you. No matter where you went, she was somehow there, ready to show off and drive you up the fucking wall. Since her father was the royal family’s physician and a childhood friend of your father, and the two of you were so close in age, the two of you had been shoved together since you could read, and you couldn’t resent it more. She never failed to take an opportunity to prove herself against you; whether it was her intelligence in tutoring sessions, or showing off her strength and size outdoors while exploring or riding, if the chance was there, she took it.

You were both twelve, and while you were able to spend more time apart, tutoring and riding lessons were still spent together. You had started spending your free time with the daughters of the court members, while Abby spent her time training for knighthood or whatever it was that motivated her to sweat in a dirty training ground for hours a day. It wasn’t like you paid it too much regard; you were perfectly happy spending tea with your friends that you could actually relate to before retreating to the palace library to spend afternoons reading and exploring different worlds.

On one sunny spring day, Abby had shown up late to your joint riding lesson, and you were already annoyed since George had ruined your favorite riding boots by dropping them in a boiling, soapy wash basin while the maids weren’t looking, only for them to be found hours later and sorrowfully returned to your chambers. The twat. So when she came jogging up to the stables, your glare was already set upon her, and she preemptively rolled her eyes.

“I know, I know, training went over,” she retorted to your glare in an annoyed voice, raising her hands apologetically at your instructor.

You continued glaring as she saddled her horse and mounted the steed, flipping her braid behind her shoulder. Sensing the tension and not wanting to be a part of it, the instructor casually instructed the two of you to take a simple ride through the naturalistic grounds surrounding the palace during your normal lesson time. You nodded curtly and took off in a simple trot, Abby quickly following and settling into a matching trot beside you.

“Heard about what happened to your boots,” she remarked casually, not even glancing your way. But you knew what she was doing, and you already weren’t in the mood for it. She kept pushing anyway.

“What a waste,” she continued, clicking her tongue. “You poor thing, how will you ever survive?” You could feel her smirk without looking. Trying to be the bigger person, you only sighed and kept ignoring her.

She laughed. “What, don’t want to admit that you’re upset over a pair of boots? It’s okay, you are a princess, after all.” Even though she was right, it wasn’t like you wanted to admit it to Abby, of all people. You really liked those boots! Princess or not, you were allowed to be upset about it! You could say that, but it’s not like Abby would care. She’d just keep teasing you about the boots, or poking you about some other stupid thing that was sure to push your buttons. So you kept your head straight forward and kept riding. She wasn’t satisfied.

“Too good to talk to me now, are you? You’d rather be at a prissy tea party with your prissy friends?” she said, mocking a posh accent and expression as she spoke. And you just snapped.

“You know what Abby, just because you don’t like me or think I’m shallow or spoiled for whatever reason, that doesn’t mean you have to go after my friends too! You don’t even know them! You know, I don’t think you even know me like you think you do, so why don’t you just shut up already,” you exploded, taking off on your horse like a bullet and leaving Abby shouting after you in the dust. You heard her call your name after you a few times, but you ignored her, clenching your teeth as your resolve hardened and you quickened your pace even more.

By the time Abby started galloping after you, you were too far ahead to hear her. You just kept riding and riding, not stopping until you reached the creek that bubbled along one of the far edges of the palace grounds. Hopping off your horse, you gently smoothed the mare’s chestnut hair as you watched the clear water run up and over the rocks in the creek. Remembering what Abby had said, you clenched your other fist and loudly groaned in frustration, holding back the urge to go as far as to stomp on the ground.

You took a deep breath to steel yourself as you heard hooves approaching quickly from behind you. Abby called your name again, but you barely even turned your head, fist still clenched. She scoffed and dismounted, walking up to you casually.

“You know you can’t ride off like that,” she remarked. You continued to ignore her. “C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” she continued, leaning to try to get in your line of sight.

You only scoffed in reply and turned away, speed walking along the creek bed. Abby kept following you, reaching out to grab your arm once she was close enough. You gasped angrily and whipped around, hair slinging from side to side. You tried to pull away, but her grip was tight. And you panicked. No one had ever grabbed you like that, and you were so shocked, you couldn’t help but go into panic mode.

“Will you– let go– get your hands OFF of me–” you shrieked, starting to flail and struggle in her grasp. Abby also began to panic in response to you, and before you knew it, you were slipping on the creek bed, and the two of you tumbled into the creek, a tangle of limbs and shocked exclamations as you fell into the surprisingly icy water.

As soon as you hit the water, you gasped, inhaling water instead of air and immediately choking. You floundered, desperately coughing and trying to eject the water from your lungs. Finally, your flailing arms found a large rock to land on, and you started pulling yourself out of the water. At the same time, you could hear Abby climbing the water as well, and you got distracted, your hand slipping as you crashed back down into the creek. Another breath of water infiltrated your mouth and throat, and you continued to choke and cough, unable to gain enough footing to grab back onto the rock. Finally, a pair of stronger arms latched onto your own, stopping your flailing to pull you out of the water and onto the creek bed.

Flopping onto the ground, you coughed out the remaining water from your lungs until you could finally take clear breaths, anger returning with the consistent oxygen. You shot up suddenly, cutting Abby off as she opened her mouth to ask if you were okay. “You are despicable, Abby Anderson! Despicable!” You shouted as you pushed hair out of your face and straightened your soaking clothes. “I am leaving. You need to give me time to return my horse and escort myself inside, lest I see your despicable face and decide to strangle you once and for all!” You continued as you mounted your horse, giving her one last dirty look before riding off as fast as you could.

It wasn’t until the next morning when Abby wasn’t present at your lessons that you discovered that she had left for official training. And no matter how angry you were at her, you couldn’t help but be at least a bit disappointed that she hadn’t said goodbye.

THE PRESENT

Your mother’s voice was all but muted background in your head as you watched Abby – apparently now known as ‘Knight Anderson’ – approach you and your family at the front of the throne room. A lump settled in your throat, and your mouth felt impossibly dry watching her armored form get closer and closer. You barely registered your mother reciting practiced phrases as Abby knelt in front of her and bowed her head towards the queen. It was like you were outside your body, watching everything happen, only an observer as Abby stood and she and your mother approached you. You were sucked back into your body as Abby knelt in front of you, taking one of your polished hands in hers and bowing her head towards it.

“Knight Abigail Anderson,” your mother began, her voice confident and steady in contrast to the nerves that rocked your body, leaving you lightheaded. “Do you solemnly vow to dedicate your life to the protection and safety of the princess?” Abby looked up at you through her lashes, and you felt like you could faint.

ABBY ANDERSON.

White Horse, knight!abby x princess!reader. incomplete.

teaser.

part 1.

part 2…

VI.

In The Darkest Corners, vi x oc/reader. incomplete.

preface.

part 1.

part 2.

part 3.

part 4.

part 5.

part 6.

part 7.

part 8.

part 9.

part 10.

part 11.

part 12.

part 13.

"So you're no stranger to Babette, huh?" Vi asked teasingly.

"That's none of your business," Olive responded with a scratch in her throat, like just the thought was upsetting her.

"Whoa, my bad, didn't mean to hit a sore spot." Vi lifted the hands in her jacket pocket as an informal defensive stance.

"So where are we going now, anyway? Did...Babette have any information?" Olive asked, desperate to change the subject.

"We aren't going anywhere. I'm following the lead Babette gave me, but it's better I do it alone. I'll find you later."

"I'm sorry, what? If you've got a serious lead, I'm coming with!" Olive exclaimed, her face knotted with offense and surprise.

"No, you aren't." Vi's eyes hardened as she stopped and stared Olive down, like she was committing some crime by wanting to be involved in her own investigation. "This is something I need to do myself. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't seem like much of a fighter, and I don't want to deal with being in charge of someone else's life right now." Her voice was firm. Olive knew she wouldn't bend.

"Fine." Olive crossed her arms. "As long as you don't get yourself killed before we figure this shit out."

Vi winked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

—

Olive grumbled to herself as she trudged to her shamble of an apartment, cursing herself for not trying harder to stick up to Vi. Not much of a fighter my ass, she thought. She hasn't even seen me fight! She sighed, knowing it was no use to argue about it with herself. She'd just have to wait and hope that Vi kept her word about finding her. Unless...

Once inside her apartment, she headed straight for the pack she'd been living in since she first left her old home with it. Deep at the bottom, where she hoped she would never have to reach, her hand curled around a metal object. Pulling it out, Olive took a long look at the pistol that once felt warm in her hands. She always resented the shooting lessons and tournaments that her parents forced her into, but now that she actually had a use for her unforgotten skills, she started to understand just a little bit why they enforced it so much. She gripped the weapon tighter in her hand, then checked that it was still loaded like she remembered before standing up and walking grimly out of her apartment.

Olive scaled the walls of the tallest building near her and began to travel along the raised pathways, jumping over gaps and scaling more stories as she needed to. While this wasn't her favorite form of travel, it would be the best way of spotting whatever Vi was getting herself into. She suddenly stopped when she heard Vi's voice.

"Filthy traitor!"

Olive got down low and peeked over the ledge she was on. What she saw was Vi slamming another person's face into a wall. Ouch. Upon taking a closer look, Olive gasped when she recognized Vi's opponent. Sevika? Olive herself had always stayed as far away as possible — that bitch was scary as hell. But she was also giant, with a metal shimmer-powered arm. The fact that Vi was holding her own against her, and actually kicking her around, was impressive.

And hot.

Olive followed the fight as it moved, watching as they slammed each other through walls and made hit after hit. When Vi launched Sevika through a wall into another alleyway, Olive cursed and quickly leaped across another roof and rushed onto a raised walkway to keep track of the fight. She watched as Vi grasped Sevika's throat and held her down with her boot, growling something to her that Olive couldn't pick up. When Sevika replied, she watched as Vi's face slipped into shock and her guard started to come down.

That was when Sevika stabbed her through the abdomen.

Olive gasped in shock, and after a moment she came back to herself and started fumbling to get her pistol out, cursing her stupid fingers. She felt helpless as she watched Sevika kick Vi down from where she was already crawling on the ground and then walk around to pull her up by her chin. Then Sevika raised her arm, about to recharge. Olive knew instantly that she was aiming to kill. Without a second thought, she pointed her pistol at the vial of shimmer that was about to recharge Sevika's arm, and shot. The vial burst open, shocking the great brute long enough to give Olive the chance to keep shooting. She aimed for her now failing arm again and again, but her target quickly jumped back into action, growling at Olive when she spotted her before dodging her shots and running off.

Olive instantly leapt down to the alley Sevika had left Vi in, calling out her name desperately as she rushed towards her. She shoved the pistol back into her holster and knelt down to check that Vi was conscious, or at least alive. To her relief (and surprise) Vi looked at her with a weak smile and held a hand towards Olive.

"You gonna help me up or not, cupcake?"

Olive sighed and pulled Vi up with both arms after holstering her pistol, laying Vi's arm along her shoulders so that she could hold most of Vi's weight while she still walked.

"Stop calling me that, my name is Olive," she said in a tone of half-assed annoyance.

"But you're so sweet, like a cupcake," Vi replied with a smile in her voice.

Olive rolled her eyes but kept helping her along down the alleyway in the opposite direction of where Sevika had gone. A shiver suddenly ran down her spine when she heard shouting and running in their direction.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath, about to hoist Vi more onto her figure so that they could speed up.

"Start running," Vi said, suddenly quickening her own steps with a painful groan. Olive did as she was told and started rushing down alleyways, taking whatever turns and detours Vi instructed her to. They slowed to a stop in front of a ledge that housed levels of scaffolding below it.

"Are you sure you can do this in your-" Olive was cut off by Vi leaping down on her own, and Olive rushed to look what she was doing just in time to watch her slam herself onto a horizontal pole, but keep launching herself down.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Olive cursed in hushed tones before following her lead. She did her best to avoid throwing herself around like Vi had done, but this wasn't exactly an easily navigable path. She dropped herself next to Vi and put her arm out to stop her before she started trying to move again.

"My apartment is just down the next alley, we can go there," She gasped, still trying to catch her breath. Vi nodded and, surprisingly, let Olive continue helping her as they made their way to her apartment.

They struggled up the steps, but soon enough Olive was kicking open the door with her free leg and led Vi to the mat that she used as a bed. The latter groaned and let her head fall against the wall as she shifted her hand that was covering her wound.

"Let me see," Olive said gently, reaching to move Vi's hand and then her shirt that was blocking her full view of the wound. She winced, seeing just how wide and deep Vi's wound really was.

"You're not a bad shot, Cupcake," Vi groaned, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm a great shot," Olive retorted with a sigh, moving to search for whatever first aid supplies she could make out of her few belongings. She found a clean cloth and some alcohol, and turned back to Vi to clean her up.

"This is going to sting," she warned before pouring a bit of the alcohol on the wound and quickly covering it with the cloth to soak everything up. Vi groaned and hissed in pain.

"You're not even gonna give me some of that stuff before you start pouring it on me?" She asked with a grimace. Olive shot her a glare and stood up.

"You need some sort of medicine for this." She stated, looking out the one tiny window in her apartment.

"Good luck on finding that," Vi retorted with another groan.

"I'm sure I'll manage. I'll be back soon." Olive turned and started towards the door, but Vi spoke again suddenly.

"Olive, I...Thank you," she almost whispered.

"Anytime," Olive replied casually before heading out the door and back into the Lanes.

“Caitlyn? What the hell are you doing here?” Vi hissed back, rising out of the darkness of her cell to approach Caitlyn. Her defenses prickled at the memory of what went down in front of the Council. More importantly, what she lost that day.

Caitlyn paused, her hand lingering on the lock. She met Vi's gaze, her expression unreadable. "I'm getting you out.”

Hope flickered in Vi’s chest, but it was quickly dampened by doubt. The skepticism dancing on her face hardened into a scowl. "Why? What's your game, Caitlyn?"

"Look, I know you may not have the best impression of me, but I’m here for Olive. She’s been missing, and I talked to the bartender at The Last Drop. He last saw her with Sevika, until she passed out and Sevika dragged her off. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about this?” Caitlyn replied, her tone measured.

Vi's fists clenched, the tension between them escalating. "You think I don’t know? That Silco wouldn’t dangle it in my face like some sort of fucked up little game? You think I haven’t been torturing myself in here, day in and day out, trying to figure out how to get to her?” She stepped forward menacingly as she spoke, until Caitlyn could almost feel her breath on her face. “But now you show up out of nowhere, claiming you want to help? For what, a Piltover PR stunt? Either get me out of here so I can fix this shit, or leave.”

Caitlyn's jaw tightened, and for a moment, the air crackled with unspoken conflict. "I know you don't trust me, Vi. But I need you to trust that I want to help you. To help Olive. Silco's grip on the Undercity is tightening, and we need to stand together against it." She paused, taking a suddenly shaky breath. “And…I, uh….I can’t lose Olive again.”

Vi scoffed and rolled her eyes, suspicion still etched on her features. "Why should I believe you? You've always been on the other side of this mess. You couldn’t even try to find Olive when she spent an entire year alone in the Undercity.”

Caitlyn sighed, the weight of their shared history pressing on her shoulders. "I know I haven't been the most reliable ally in the past. But circumstances have changed. We—"

Vi cut her off bitterly. "Save it. I don't need your explanations. Just get me out of here, and we'll go from there." Caitlyn was silent, caught off guard. Vi studied Caitlyn's face, searching for any hint of deceit. The cell seemed to shrink around them as the seconds ticked away. Finally, Caitlyn nodded, a begrudging acceptance in her eyes. She understood that the fragile alliance forged in the depths of the Undercity might not survive in the harsh light of the world above.

She pulled out some sort of advanced lock picking mechanism, and made quick work of the rickety cell lock. As the lock clicked open, the cell door swung open and Caitlyn stepped back cautiously as Vi quickly exited her cell. The tension lingered, a silent reminder of the delicate balance between trust and betrayal hovering around them. Caitlyn, acutely aware of the strained atmosphere, focused on the task at hand—getting Vi out of Stillwater. The dim light flickered overhead, casting erratic shadows on the walls. They were able to quickly sneak back out of Stillwater, Caitlyn following Vi’s quick, athletic maneuvering.

Once they were a ways away from Stillwater, Caitlyn put a hand on Vi’s arm to stop her. Vi flinched at the touch, like she was tempted to swing, but Caitlyn chose to ignore the movement. “Stop, Vi — where are we even going? How do you know where she is?”

The question made Vi sigh, like it was something obvious that Caitlyn was oblivious to. “I know Silco. I know where he keeps his facilities. I know exactly where he has her. Where he wants me.” Her face was hard as stone.

Caitlyn wasn’t convinced. “So what, we’re just going to walk straight into what is obviously a trap? The two of us? Even if we managed to get in, there’s no way we’d be able to get Olive out. Not without a full rescue team.” Her disbelief was palpable in her voice.



Vi closed her eyes, like she was thinking, and then shook her head. “I don’t care. I’ll figure it out. I won’t wait anymore. I have to find her.” She started walking again, but yet again, Caitlyn grabbed her arm to stop her, more forcefully this time.

“You’d be a fool to do this. Just wait one day, I’ll pull together a team of enforcers and we’ll face Silco and his followers together. Then we’ll have an actual chance.” Her voice was desperate, like she wasn’t just trying to convince Vi, but herself as well. Vi pulled away again.

“You can do that if you want, but I’ve learned my lesson with enforcers, and I’m not risking it again. Especially not with Olive involved.” She spoke with an air of finality that Caitlyn came to accept was not one to be questioned. She sighed.

“Fine. I’ll move as quickly as I can, but in the meantime, just…be safe. Please. For Olive,” Caitlyn replied in a gentler voice, softening in the subject of her childhood friend. Vi nodded, and then turned her back to leap into the Undercity, moving as quickly as she could while keeping her stealth.

—

This time when Olive awoke, she was alone. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved, or made more anxious by the absence of another person. She sat there in the silence, her back against the freezing wall of her cell, alone with her thoughts and fears. Was she really going to die like this? How soon would it be? Would, at the end of the day, it really be her own father that ended her life? A year ago, she might’ve been grateful to be free from the pain and confusion…but now, she had something to lose. Someone to lose. Even if it was a someone who left her. Alone. In the rain. Someone who she wasn’t even sure she would ever see again, if she did survive this. Before Olive knew it, she could feel tears dripping down her cheeks, and her ears suddenly registered the sobs leaving her throat. Her cries seemed unending, the cold in the air and the burning on her wrists disappearing into her sorrow. After what felt like forever and no time at all, she finally heard footsteps tapping down the corridor towards her, a mocking “tsk, tsk, tsk,” being murmured by the figure as they approached.

“What?” Olive choked out through her sobs. Suddenly, it didn’t feel worth it to save her words anymore. “Here to taunt me more? Make me feel worthless, hopeless, despaired?” She took a shaking breath and continued, “Well, I’m already there. You did your job. What else do you want from me?” The door to her cell clanged open and shut, but Olive still kept her eyes squeezed and trained on the floor. It wasn’t like she could use her hands to wipe her tears while they were changed behind her back, so squeezing the excess liquid out of her eyes was the best she could do. She listened intently as the figure knelt in front of her and grabbed her face in their hands. She wished she didn’t recognize their touch.

“Oh, dear, sweet Olive tree, don’t cry,” her father’s — no, Teeter’s voice made a terrified shiver go down her spine. He wiped her tears for a moment, but she flinched from his touch, now glaring straight into his eyes. Instead of pulling away, his grip on her jaw tightened. His voice turned from a fake sweetness to a true hiss. “Don’t you worry, dear daughter,” he drew out the pet name like a snake, “it’ll all be over soon anyways. We’re just missing one piece of our puzzle.” Olive took a deep breath, and glanced down at his hands before looking back into his eyes. Wordlessly, she reeled back slightly and, as hard as she could, spit straight in his face.

Her screams followed quickly after. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER,” she bellowed, her voice scraping even as she ignored it, “YOU FILTHY MURDERING FUCKING TRAITOR, YOU’RE DEAD. YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD. I WON’T LET YOU DO THIS AGAIN, I WON’T. YOU COWARD,” her voice echoed in the cell and down whatever corridors connected to it. Teeter grimaced and angrily wiped the spit off his face, using that same hand to then cover one of his ears as Olive screamed, the other keeping a tight grip on her face. He suddenly let go of her face and immediately slapped her as hard as he could, making Olive’s eyes blur and tears prick in her eyes. Before she could react, he gripped her face in one hand again, this time so tightly that her cheeks were completely squished together by her mouth.

“How dare you, you little bitch,” he snarled, pulling her close to his face. Even though her cheek was bright red and felt like it was on fire, Olive ignored the pain and returned Teeter’s glare silently. He huffed and dropped her. “Sevika!” He called in a suddenly airy voice, “I think our bitch needs a muzzle.” As Sevika turned from the wall outside of Olive’s cell and strolled in as requested, Olive’s stomach filled with dread. Her heart pounded against her chest, and she scrambled back against the wall, as if she would somehow be able to escape this. Teeter simply watched her and laughed cruelly. Olive’s eyes were wide as saucers while she watched Sevika approach, spinning a metal muffle gag in one finger.

Sevika’s voice broke through the momentarily quiet room. “I’ll take it from here,” she spoke gruffly through a half-smirk, only glancing at Teeter, who nodded and looked to Olive one more time. She continued glaring.

“I’ll see you later then, dear daughter,” he said sinisterly, kicking her once in the abdomen lightly and ignoring her whine. “Can’t wait for our next talk…” He turned and slinked out of the room, leaving Sevika to her own devices with Olive. The taller woman nodded a goodbye and focused her attention to Olive, who was glaring up at her from her position against the wall.

Sevika smirked. “Oh, my little bird, I wish we could do this in different circumstances,” she remarked cruelly, approaching Olive with the so-called ‘muzzle’ in her hand. “How nice would that be, hm?” Her voice was that of a mocking murmur, only fueling Olive’s hatred and dread. Olive bared her teeth in a grimace, holding back the urge to spit again.

“You’re disgusting,” Olive replied in a hate-filled voice. Sevika only laughed. Her laugh made something in Olive snap, and she reeled back and then spit straight into Sevika’s face (or as close as she could get from the floor). Disgusted, Sevika grimaced and then whipped her gaze back to Olive with a newfound anger in her eyes.

“You really want to act like a bitch? Then I’ll treat you like the little bitch that you are,” Sevika barked, roughly grabbing Olive’s jaw in one hand and yanking her up to where Sevika could more easily reach her. Before Olive could recover from the shock and spit a retort, the muzzle was being shoved onto her face. Olive half-choked on the gag as it invaded her face and mouth, making Sevika grin maliciously. With a click, Sevika latched the device on securely and shoved Olive back down to the floor, still gagging a bit on the new sensation and desperately trying to force her body to breathe out of her nose. Once she could breathe, she sent a hateful glare towards Sevika, who sighed and leaned down a bit. Her large body approaching Olive’s made the smaller flinch away, as if she would be able to get away. As if. Sevika rolled her eyes.

“You know, little bird, I would be a lot nicer if you made it easier,” Sevika said to her with a sigh, catching Olive’s chin with one finger as she tried to turn away and lifting Olive’s gaze to hers. “So pretty…” she murmured, “we’d have so much fun, you and I.” Olive could do nothing but glare in response. Sevika sighed again and removed her finger. “It’s too bad that you’re too much of a prissy bitch to take an opportunity when you get one,” she grunted and took out a cigar, lighting it and placing it between her lips to take a long drag before speaking again. “You could’ve had it good down here. But instead, you chose someone who won’t even attempt to help you. How sad.” Olive’s glare became fiery, and she lurched out towards Sevika, as if she could do anything. The chain holding her hands wasn’t even long enough for her to stand up, much less reach Sevika, and Olive was yanked back down by the chain as vigorously as she tried to get up. Unsurprisingly, Sevika laughed and cooed mockingly. “Aww, want to fight back, do we?” her voice hushed suddenly, “You’re ours now, little bird. And there’s no fighting back.” With that, she turned around and left the room, leaving Olive to moan in pain at the new restriction on her face.

—

The night wrapped Silco's stronghold in a shroud of darkness, broken only by sporadic lanterns casting long, eerie shadows. Vi moved with calculated determination towards the looming warehouse that covered Silco’s underground hold, her steps muffled by her strategic movements as she approached. Ideally, she would slip past the guards and into the stronghold unnoticed, but when it came to Vi, this wasn’t a very realistic option. Instead, she left a trail of unconscious guards behind her, bodies hidden by random objects or pushed behind barriers and into shadowy corners. Soon enough, she was within the twisted corridors of Silco’s headquarters. The echoes of distant conversations and clinking metal reverberated as Vi navigated the labyrinthine passages, her keen eyes searching for any sign of Olive. The information she had extracted from Caitlyn and Grint had led her here, to Silco's inner sanctum, where he practiced the majority and most important of his operations, as well as kept his long-term prisoners. Her heart pounded in her chest as she descended lower and lower into the hold, eventually approaching a heavily guarded door. With practiced finesse, Vi disabled the guards without a sound, their unconscious bodies now silent witnesses to her intrusion. The door, fortified and imposing, seemed to defy her entry. Vi gritted her teeth, muscles flexing as she used all her strength to pry it open. The hinges groaned in protest, but the door finally yielded. The corridor beyond was dimly lit, revealing rows of cells like crypts in the Undercity's secret catacomb. The air hung heavy with the scent of dampness and despair. Vi scanned the cells as she advanced through the corridor, her eyes searching for a familiar face. Eventually, she spotted a battered form huddled on the ground on the floor of the farthest cell, quiet pained breaths leaving the person’s body. Vi rushed to the cell, hands coming up to the bars as she looked in. Instantly, her heart sank as she recognized that the form was in fact a shivering Olive, seemingly unconscious on the floor of her cell.

"Olive!" Vi whispered urgently, her voice barely audible above the oppressive silence. Olive’s body didn’t move. Vi shoved the door open, nearly ripping it off its hinges, ignoring the fact that it was suspiciously unlocked as she rushed to Olive. She gently took Olive’s face in her calloused and wrapped hands, inspecting her as she whispered pleas for her to get up. “Olive, Olive please…wake up, Olive, please…it’s me, its Vi,” she begged, her voice breaking as she spoke and a breath of relief leaving her chest when Olive’s eyes blinked open.

But instead of looking relieved, Olive’s eyes widened and she immediately squirmed to try to escape Vi’s grasp, her instincts surging with panic even though she had yet to realize who had awoken her. Vi gently grabbed one of her arms and rubbed, continuing to identify herself until Olive finally seemed to hear her and paused, wide eyes meeting Vi’s. At first, she looked shocked, then relieved, and tears welled in her eyes as Vi pulled her into her grasp and held her for a moment. Vi then pulled away, moving to release her from her binds, but Olive’s eyes grew wide again, and she started to scream from behind her mask, muffled sounds being all that came out as she stared at something behind Vi and desperately tried to free herself again. Confused, Vi’s ears finally picked up on footsteps approaching from behind, not having heard them before as she focused on Olive. But by the time she realized this, it was too late, and something heavy hit her on the head before she could even turn around, the world going dark.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

tags!!: (lmk if you want to be added!)

“Vi?” she called out timidly. The door to the en-suite bathroom suddenly opened.

“Need something, cupcake?” Now leaning on the door frame was a clearly just-showered Vi, wearing only a white towel wrapped tightly around her. Her wet hair was a mess against her head. Olive wasn’t sure where to look. She cleared her throat nervously, catching herself staring and quickly averting her eyes to look around the room. Vi smirked and raised an eyebrow. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“No, I, uh…I just um, I just…you weren’t in the room, so I…” Olive trailed off awkwardly, internally cursing herself.

“Mmm. I see,” Vi said, her eyes trained on Olive. “Well, the bathroom is all yours now. The hot water feels great,” she continued slyly as she walked past Olive into the open room. Olive could feel her face burning with an intense blush.

“Sounds, uhhhh…sounds great,” she replied, failing to have a casual tone. Without another word, she shot into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Cringing at herself, she held her head in her hands and slid down to the floor against the door. Fuck.

When she could breathe again, Olive stood and forced to give herself a long shower, even though she felt bone-tired. She hadn’t realized how much she needed it until she let herself stand, finally clean, under the hot water and just think. She stayed there until the water started to feel too hot, at which point she gently turned it off and finally got out. She took her time drying her body and her hair, savoring the fluffy towels and clean mirrors.

When Olive finally came out of the bathroom, she saw Vi already laying on the bed, seemingly already passed out. Something about the sight made her smile. As quietly as she could, Olive crept over to the bed and laid down on the opposite side, facing Vi. She looked so peaceful — something Olive never really saw. Without thinking, she gently reached her hand out to stroke it against Vi’s face. To her shock, Vi’s eyes gently opened. Olive gasped quietly and went to pull her hand away, but Vi had already grasped it in her own hand. Without a word, the magenta haired girl closed her eyes again, still holding Olive’s hand in her own. Olive drifted off to sleep only moments later.

—

When Olive awoke, the first thing she noticed was how warm and comfortable she was. Moments later, she realized that was because she was gently wrapped in Vi’s arms, who held her from behind and was clearly still asleep. Olive slowly began trying to get up so that she could find Caitlyn, but when she was halfway up, Vi’s grip suddenly tightened and she pulled Olive back forcefully. Her muscular arms wrapped tighter around Olive so it was harder for her to get up again.

“Vi, I have to-“

“Shhh, I’m still sleeping,” Vi murmured, interrupting her before she could give an excuse. Well, Olive couldn’t argue with that — or at least she didn’t want to. She let herself sink into Vi’s body, and there they lay until they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Ol? Are you awake yet?” Caitlyn called. Olive sighed, knowing she needed to get up and deal with life when she wished she could just forget about it all and lay there with Vi forever.

“I’ll be up in a minute!” Olive called back. Wordlessly, Vi let her go and the two of them began to get up. They needed to be ready.

The three of them ate breakfast together in Caitlyn’s room, with her mainly watching Olive and Vi eat while she picked at her own food. The two of them seemed absolutely famished, Vi even more so than Olive. But it was Olive’s hunger that made Caitlyn truly sad. She needed to change the subject.

“So, the next council meeting is tomorrow. Before then, you two will need to come up with a strategy to convince them about — what was his name? — Silco. I expect you’ll need my help seeing as my mother is a council member.”

Olive nodded and swallowed her large mouthful of food before speaking. “You’re right. We won’t get anywhere without a plan, or your help. But first…there’s somewhere I need to go. Just for some closure,” Olive said, looking at Caitlyn like she was begging that she wouldn’t make her explain any further. Not right now. Thankfully, the latter nodded with silent understanding.

“Whatever you need.”

As soon as they had stepped beyond the Kiramman’s gate, Vi slowed to a stop and leant against a post. “So, are you going to tell me where we’re going, or is it a surprise?” She smirked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Olive looked down nervously. “Unfortunately, it’s nothing pleasant.” She sighed and looked up, right into Vi’s eyes. “We’re going home. To my home.” Vi instantly dropped her persona. Her demeanor softened.

“Oh.” Her face looked heartbroken and conflicted, like she wasn’t sure what to do. “If you want to go alone, I can-“

“No. I want you to come with me. Please.” Olive’s eyes were pleading — she couldn’t do it alone. Vi nodded. Olive took a breath and continued. “Luckily, we don’t have far to go. I lived right next door.”

As they walked up to the gate that preceded Olive’s once-home, it became clear that the neighborhood had been dedicated enough to their own looks to keep the house looking normal from the outside. But from what Cait had told her, nobody had actually bought the house or moved it. Not that anyone would want to, after what happened. Vi grabbed Olive’s hand in silent understanding and squeezed it. Olive looked at her, and Vi gave a small smile of encouragement. With a deep breath, Olive raised her free hand and pushed open the familiar gate. Her home was smaller and less grand than the Kiramman’s, but it still held the stature and upper-class expectations of Piltover. The front door opened easily in Olive’s hand, and when she saw what had become of her home for the first time, she had to fight the urge to simply crumple to the ground and sob. All that came out was a harrowed gasp.

“Ol, if it’s too much, we can always leave,” Vi soothed, but Olive shook her head.

“No. I need to know. I need to see,” she said, swallowing back the emotion that threatened to overcome her. She took her time taking everything in, from the wrecked overturned furniture to the decorations and memorabilia smashed on the floor. Traveling up the stairs, she could still see clearly the marks left by enforcers’ boots as they had trampled through her home. She peered down the hall, and noticed something strange. The self portraits that her parents had forced her to sit for each year of her life lay untouched. They must have been deemed unimportant from their high, secured place on the wall. Vi seemed entranced as she gazed at them.

“These are…all you. Your entire life, right here,” she murmured, transfixed. The more she looked at them, the more Vi noticed one specific detail. Each year, Olive’s hair grew longer, sometimes unrestrained, sometimes confined in a braid or long ponytail. In what was clearly the most recent portrait, her hair was a loose, thick wave that almost floated around her being. Vi stared at this for a few moments, then turned and gazed at Olive’s now cropped hair. It barely reached past her chin, and a lot of the time it was mostly tied up or pulled back. Vi contemplated this, wondering why she had left this behind with her own life. Olive noticed this and cleared her throat.

“I do miss it, sometimes. The hair. Living the kind of life where I can maintain something like that. But after I left, I…it was too much. Instead of being something I could appreciate, it was always in the way, always dirty or hard to manage. It was the last thing I had to leave behind.” Olive had to force herself to turn away from her portrait. From the smiling girl that sat straight and clean. “It’s just hair, anyways,” she said, turning away and heading towards her bedroom. Her final destination. Vi wanted to stop her, to say something, but she wasn’t sure what to say. What to do. Silently, she followed Olive.

Surprisingly, Olive’s room was just as she left it. Destroyed, of course, but at least it was her own doing. Her clothes haphazardly pulled out of her wardrobe and thrown wherever if she couldn’t bring it. Other belongings searched through and abandoned before she could have second thoughts. Her bed, dusty and messed about from her urgent bolting from her sleep. But there was one thing actually untouched. Her piano. Olive beelined for the grand instrument, sliding onto the bench like she always had. Her fingers ghosted over the keys, pressing random ones and watching the fingerprints she left in the dust. She could feel Vi standing adjacent to her, watching, but her focus stayed on the piano. Even her favorite piece was still open on the music stand.