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girlwithadragonheart · 7 months ago

Text

2 ~ The Fool

Vi Et Animo (With Heart and Soul)

Vander x Fem!Reader

Summary: Adapting to your new life will take some time. Luckily, you have a friend to help you out.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Kids asking intrusive questions, teasing, swearing, suggestive comments toward reader, I think that’s it

A/N: Kind of a transition chapter, I tried to make it as interesting as possible for everyone involved XD

Chapter 1 Masterlist Chapter 3

Your eyes grew unfocused as you read over a student’s essay. You’d been sitting there for what felt like days grading papers and planning assignments.You’d scarcely had time for a break lately. The starry blue cloth covering your desk almost seemed to glow as your eyes crossed.

You sighed, rubbing your hands over your face as you sat back for a moment, letting your eyes drift to the domed ceiling. Various constellations were carved into it, all aligning with the sky above.

Absently, you shuffled your cards between your two hands, watching them glide through your fingers, the sound doing something to soothe your weary mind. You continued until a card flew from the deck, landing crooked on your desk face down. Glancing at it, you tilted your head, wondering what your spirit guides found so urgent that you needed to hear it right that moment.

Setting your deck to the side, you let your fingers hover over the single card before carefully flipping it over.

The Fool.

New beginnings, freedom, spontaneity, adventure.

The Fool depicts a youth walking joyfully into the world. He is taking his first steps, and he is exuberant, joyful, excited. He carries nothing with him except a small sack, caring nothing for the possible dangers that lie in his path. Indeed, he is soon to encounter the first of these possible dangers, for if he takes just a step more, he will topple over the cliff that he is reaching.

The Fool is a warning to not be naive to risks and to be aware of the path you’re treading.

In its upright position, it was the bright start of a new journey. When reversed, it was a warning that you were stepping too far beyond your path and it would lead to potential disaster.

It had landed sideways. Perfectly neutral.

Both a warning and a premonition. Urging you to be sure-footed and take your time on this path.

The waters were cold and dark if you plummeted to the depths, but they could also embrace you in the serenity of their stillness—the weightlessness provided a steady release from the heaviness on your shoulders, if you let them.

An assured knock landed on your door, and when you looked up, Lest was in front of you. Her ear twitched as she regarded your drawing.

“The cards giving you a hard time again?” She grinned mischievously.

You sighed, leaning back and gesturing to the card in front of you. “What do you think?” You asked.

She leaned over your desk, eyes darting over the card and its position. “Did it land that way?” She questioned. You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. “Interesting…”

“That’s it?” You deadpanned.

“What do you want me to say?” She stood up straight, raising a brow as she crossed her arms, mimicking your position.

You sighed, letting your eyes close as you laid your head back against your chair. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Am I doing the right thing?” You opened your eyes to peer at her as she took a drag from her pipe, the purple smoke drifting through the air. Her presence always calmed you as did her insight.

“Have you asked them?” She nodded to your card deck. “They’re the only ones who could even come close to telling you.”

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You rolled over, and the sheets were cool beside you. Your eyes fluttered, but you didn’t open them yet, wanting to enjoy your time in bed before getting ready for work.

When your lids finally pried apart, you were in an unfamiliar room with air that made your lungs tight and no light filtering through the windows. You sat up, trying not to panic as your eyes flitted around the room.

There was a door across from you and a curtain to your left. You looked down at yourself, seeing a massively baggy t-shirt twisted around your frame from the way you had slept, undoubtedly. It smelled faintly of smoke and leather, and the previous days’ events came flooding back to you.

The exile. The thieves. The hunger. You clutched your stomach as it growled—nowhere near the severity it had been—and noticed how thin you had gotten just in a few days without any source of nutrients.

And out of nowhere, Vander had found you and brought you back to his bar-slash-home, fed you, cleaned you up, and tended your wounds before offering you a place to sleep. Fucking weird thing to happen out of nowhere, but listen, after the hell you had been through, you would take what you could get.

Slowly, you pulled yourself out of bed, remaking the blanket behind you before carefully heading downstairs. You ran a hand through your hair, praying it wasn’t as messy as it felt.

The first thing you noticed was the smell of fried eggs. The second thing was a head of blue hair and a head of pink hair, sitting at the bar. Vander was behind it with a hotplate cooking the eggs you smelled.

He looked up with a half smile as a stair creaked beneath you. You froze, being caught peeping and tucked yourself half behind the corner as both girls turned to you. The younger one—-Powder, if you remembered right—-regarded you with wide eyes, a more curious stare. Whereas her sister, Violet, scowled, looking past you and up the stairs.

Most of the time, you would pride yourself on your interactions with children, but you weren’t from here, and they weren’t from Piltover. You knew there was bound to be some kind of lapse between you.

“Breakfast?” Vander asked, calling back your attention from the little ones.

You smiled sheepishly and nodded as you finally made your way down the stairs to join them at the bar. You took a seat at the end of the bar, pulling on Vander’s shirt to try and cover as much of you as it could. Which—-while not surprising—-was a lot.

Vander started dishing out food and introduced you to the girls. “She’s going to be staying with us for a while, alright? So no funny business.” He pointed the wooden spatula at them each, eyeing them carefully as though he could already see their plans.

You couldn’t help the small smile that spread on your lips watching him. He slid a plate to you and you nodded in thanks, glancing away as he sent you a wink. You looked at the girls as they dug into their food and cleared your throat.

“If you guys have any questions, I’ll try to answer them,” you told them.

Vi looked at you with half an egg shoved in her mouth, practically scowling, while Powder’s eyes darted between you and Vander.

“Are you really from up there?” Powder asked with wide eyes.

You glanced at Vander, and he just shrugged and nodded. “Yes, I’m from Piltover,” you told her. “I was a teacher.”

“Why did you come here?” She asked. “Did you want to visit?” You wished it could be explained with such child-like innocence. The truth was far darker.

“Nobody comes here because they want to, Powder.” Vi rolled her eyes. “What did you do to get kicked?” She questioned.

“Violet—” Vander scolded.

“No, it’s alright,” you assured him. “She’s right.” There was a flash of surprise in Vi’s gaze before it was quickly covered up again. “There was an accident, and the council needed someone to blame. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Not quite a lie. Not quite the truth. You weren’t really sure what the truth was anymore.

“So Vander saved you?” She eyed you suspiciously. “Is that why you’re wearing his clothes?”

“Mine needed a wash,” you shrugged a shoulder, starting to cut into your eggs. Vander chuckled as he cleared his own plate.

“Do you have any cool stuff from Piltover?” Powder asked excitedly.

Your thumb absentmindedly rubs the place your ring used to be. “No, sadly I was mugged the second I stepped foot here.”

Vi scoffed. “Typical. You Piltovians all think you’re better than us, but you couldn’t even take care of your own stuff.”

“Yeah, silly me for letting those four guys take me out,” you shrugged. “Get all your facts straight before throwing around accusations.”

There was a suspicious sound of a laugh hidden by a cough coming from where Vander was sitting. Vi looked at you with shock and disgust as though you had just struck her. Powder looked between you and her sister as you started calmly eating your breakfast.

“Speaking of,” Vander said. “Your clothes are clean.” He took his plate to the sink behind him, setting it down. “Think you can handle this lot while I go get them?” he asked.

You looked at the girls before turning back to him. “I think we’ll be alright.”

Vander nodded and made his way down the stairs. Powder eyed you curiously. “Do you have a family? Do you miss them?” She asked.

“I…” You thought back to your life in the glorious upper city. All the pomp and circumstance. Your classroom. Your students. “I had my students,” you tell her. “Not a traditional family, I suppose.”

“You said you were a teacher,” Vi stated. “Wasn’t it boring?”

You laughed. “No, not at all. Sometimes, I suppose, but mostly? Every day was an adventure. You hear all kinds of things. I mean, think about it, I worked with other teachers and a bunch of kids.” You dragged a hand through your hair.

“You must know loads of stories!” Powder exclaimed. “Can you tell us one?”

You glanced over, seeing Vander coming back up the stairs with your folded clothes. “Maybe another time, kiddo,” you smiled.

Vander came over to you, setting your clothes on the bar. “There ya go. I couldn’t get every stain out, but I did my best.” He scooped up yours and the girls’ plates, moving to the sink. “I’ll get this cleaned up while you get dressed. We’ll open up the bar after,” he told you.

Vi led her younger sister downstairs as you picked up your clothes and headed the other way. “Thank you, Vander,” You said as you left.

“Anytime, lass,” he responded before you were out of earshot.

You took your clothes upstairs, shutting the door and pulling Vander’s shirt off. You folded it carefully and left it on the bed for him. Picking up your dress, you ran the fabric between your fingers. It was familiar, albeit still stained with some loose threads. But it was soft, and it was almost all you had from your earlier life.

Slowly, you brought the cloth to your face and took a deep breath, letting your eyes close. It smelled faintly of tobacco, but other than that had no scent. It didn’t smell like grime and body odor anymore. But it also didn’t smell like your detergent. It didn’t smell like your perfume. It didn’t smell like home anymore.

You took a heavy seat on the edge of the bed, feeling your eyes tear up. Home. That was no home anymore. You rubbed your eyes furiously; This was not the time for a breakdown. You inhaled deeply, though unsteady, until the rising tide of your emotions had receded back to the gently rocking waves of the sea.

You slipped your dress over your head, moving to the bathroom to adjust it in the mirror. Gently running your fingers through your hair, you parted it the way you liked, starting to twist the strands into dutch braids to keep it out of your face. You secured it carefully before pushing them back over your shoulders and tugging on your dress, feeling almost comfortable again.

Your gaze drifted, settling on your tarot deck on that little bathroom shelf. Your hands braced the sink, fingers itching to reach out and do a reading. You missed the feeling of the cards between your fingers. You were used to shuffling them idly between your hands as a way to distract your mind.

But what’s the point?

With a sigh, you flicked off the bathroom light, letting the curtain drift closed behind you as you made to leave. When you opened the door, a pair of boots rested on the stair in front of you. You stared at them for a moment, remembering what Vander had said last night. These must be Vi’s extra pair.

You sat down in the doorway, pulling the boots on. They were a bit snug, but surprisingly comfortable and broken in. At the very least, they were warm and would keep your feet from getting trampled by customers. You had to remember to thank her when you next got the chance.

When you got downstairs, Vander had finished pulling the chairs off the tables and was behind the bar, organizing the drinks below. He looked up as you entered. “Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you responded.

He chuckled. “You’ll be fine. Just… remember where you’re at,” he said carefully.

“Worried they won’t understand me if I use big words?” You joked.

“Yeah, yeah, you know what I mean.” He rolled his eyes, though his smile gave him away as he turned on the neon lights outside. He tossed you a worn apron, and you quickly tied it around you as you mapped out the bar to learn where things were.

-------------------------

Not even an hour in, the place was teeming with patrons. Vander had insisted it wouldn’t be too busy—just a “light evening”---but the roar of voices, clatter of tankards, and the occasional crash from a dropped glass said otherwise. You did your best to keep your stress levels down, reminding yourself you didn’t have to be perfect, you just had to get the job done. Everything would be fine. Hopefully.

You were balancing a tray of empty mugs, weaving between the raucous tables and trying to avoid bumping anyone as you walked, when a man barked at you from across the bar. “Oi lass! When are we getting more drinks over here?!” the man questioned, slamming his metal tankard down on the wood of his table.

You flinched from the sudden noise, one of the mugs on your tray tipping precariously. Your breath caught in your throat as you shifted, hand darting out to catch it and place it back on the tray carefully. You glared at the man, cursing under your breath as you hurried back to the bar. You dumped your tray down with a huff, your patience starting to wear thin as Vander prepared their drinks.

“Do they always yell like that?” You asked, resting against the counter with one hip popped.

“Only when they’re sober,” Vander replied, watching the drinks he made.

Your brows dropped and you gave him a dry look. “Oh, so this is normal?”

“Welcome to the Undercity, Princess,” he said, his smirk widening. “You learn to let it roll off. Comes with the territory.”

You crossed your arms on the bar as you waited for him to finish. “Well, I’m letting it roll off alright. Right into my mental list of people I’ll ‘accidentally’ spill drinks on.”

Vander chuckled, setting the bottles back under the counter, and finally looking at you. “Not sure you’ve the patience for this line of work.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “And miss the chance to work under you? Never.”

His smirk turned into a full laugh as you started putting their drinks on your tray. “Careful, or I’ll start thinking you like it here.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small grin tugging at your lips. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, old man.”

He put a hand over his chest in mock hurt, winking at you as you walked away to serve the men their drinks. You balanced the tray carefully as you weaved through the crowd of tables again. You smiled as you reached their table, setting their drinks down in front of them.

“Sorry for the wait boys,” you said as you tucked the tray under your arm. “Is there anything else I can get you for the moment?” You asked.

The boy closest to you couldn’t be more than nineteen, though the rest looked to be in their thirties. “I know something you can get us, love,” The older man across from him said. “Or rather somethin’ you can take,” he elbowed the guy beside him, snickering. “Our boy Tommy here still has his virginity!” The table howled with laughter, but the young boy looked rather uncomfortable.

You fought the roll of your eyes, shooting an apologetic glance to Tommy before leaving, finding they were too engaged in their own joke to address you anymore. You found an empty table, clearing the drinks off it and balancing the tray in one hand as you wiped down the table with the other.

You cast a final glance around the room checking for anyone who needed your attention before making your way behind the bar to wash some of the mugs that had started piling up. Vander was just serving drinks and talking to his customers. You vaguely wondered how many of them were regulars here and how long he had known them all. Regardless, he looked much to calm in this sea of faces and storm of demands.

As you set to washing the mugs, you spoke over your shoulder to him when he wasn’t engaged with someone else. “You make this look so easy. It’s almost offensive.”

Vander glanced over his shoulder, one hand still pouring a drink. “Years of practice, Princess. You’ll get there.”

You snorted, setting a mug on the drying rack. “If I don’t keel over first.”

“You’re holding up fine,” he said, passing the freshly poured drink to a customer and flashing a quick grin at you. “Though you missed a spot on that last mug.”

You froze mid-scrub, narrowing your eyes at him. “You’re joking.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied smoothly, already moving to grab another mug for a refill.

You quickly grabbed the offending tankard off the rack and squinted at it. Spotless. “Looks clean to me,” you muttered before glancing back at Vander. “You just like messing with me, don’t you?”

Vander shrugged, that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. “Keeps things interesting.”

You rolled your eyes and dunked another mug into the soapy water. “You’re lucky you’ve got charm, old man. Otherwise I’d dump this water over your head.”

He chuckled, sliding another drink across the counter. “If that’s the best you’ve got, I’m not worried.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you shot back, a small grin tugging at your lips despite yourself.

His teasing was cut short by another customer slamming a mug down, demanding a refill. Vander gave you a wink before turning back to the crowd, leaving you to pick up your tray and go see what trouble was in store this time.

“Dickhead,” you muttered under your breath.

You moved across the floor to one of the tables by the entrance, smiling at the man drinking alone. A flash of blue and pink caught your eye as Vi and Powder ran past the windows. You couldn’t help the way your chest squeezed when you saw them. Happy and almost carefree kids. You hoped it would stay that way.

You turned your attention to the man, a cigar hanging out of his mouth as he spoke around it. “I’d heard Vander took the Pilty in off the streets, but I couldn’t believe it until I’d seen it for myself.” He sat forward, taking his cigar between his fingers and blowing smoke in your face.

You let your breath catch until it dispersed so you didn’t cough and make a fool of yourself. “Quite,” you said simply. You didn’t like the way this felt, and you wanted to get out of this conversation as fast as possible. Your gut had never steered you wrong before, you weren’t about to stop listening to it now. “Is there anything I can get you, sir?” You asked.

“A ride if you’re selling it, sweetheart,” he grinned, and you felt dirty. Disgusting.

“I’ll have to decline,” you said with a forced smile. His eyes roved over your form. It was common for men to have this kind of reaction to any woman, especially one of such refinement. They just couldn’t wait to get their hands on them and corrupt them like some twisted right of passage. “If that’s all, I’m sure others need my attention.”

He huffed a laugh, “Yeah, I’m sure they do,” he licked his cracked lips before putting the smoke back between them.

You fought the twitch of your lip as it tried to become a sneer. Without saying anything else, you headed back behind the bar. Though you made sure to keep composed and completely masked, Vander’s eyes darted over you as you set your tray down.

“Y’alright?” He asked quietly as you moved to the sink.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” you told him, picking up the mug you had dropped before and resuming your task. You could feel his eyes on you still, and you refused to meet his gaze. “Really,” you assured him.

You were almost certain he didn’t believe you, but he also didn’t press about it, turning back to the bar and serving someone else.

--------------------------

Finally, after what felt like an endless nightmare, the last straggler had left the bar and Vander flipped the signs off. You huffed out, practically deflating as you untied your apron and hung it up on the far wall next to the bar. The kids had come back a few hours ago and gone downstairs, and you watched as Vander locked the place up for the night.

You moved to the small closet where you grabbed the broom and started sweeping the wooden floors. Your feet and back ached from the work. Luckily, you had found a few minutes earlier to grab a bite to eat so you weren’t overly hungry.

You and Vander worked around each other as he wiped down the tables and started putting chairs up for the night. When he finished with the tables and chairs, he moved behind the bar to count coins.

“So, is this the glamorous nightlife of Zaun I’ve heard so much about? Dusty floors and sticky counters?” You asked him.

He didn’t look up as he spoke. “Better than wherever you came from, I’d bet.”

You scoffed, leaning against the handle of the broom. “Oh, absolutely. Who needs fancy parties and clean air when you’ve got rat traps in every corner?”

He chuckled. “You’re getting the hang of it, though. Starting to look less like a lost little princess.”

You paused with mock offense. “Is that a compliment?”

He finally glanced up at you with a wry grin. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

You grinned back, “Too late,” you said, going back to your task until you felt you had finished.

Once the two of you had settled down you sat at the bar and Vander poured himself a drink. “Can I get you anything?” He flashed you the same smile he gave his customers, and you rolled your eyes.

“Just give me whatever you’re having,” you said with a dismissive wave of the hand.

He raised a brow but said nothing as he filled two glasses halfway with a dark amber liquor, sliding one over to you before pulling a stool around to sit facing you. He lifted his glass to you, and you clinked yours against it with a tired smile.

“To my new life,” you toasted.

“Cheers,” Vander said before taking a drink.

You tipped your head back, feeling the liquid burn down your throat, a bitter, woody taste in your mouth. Your lips and nose screwed up in a scowl, and Vander laughed.

“You should see your face,” he said.

“I’ve seen less pleasant things,” you joked as the burn in your throat faded.

“I’ll drink to that,” Vander responded, draining his glass.

You pushed yours away with a frown. “I won’t.”

He chuckled again, “More for me,” he said, taking your glass and pulling it toward him. After a moment of not completely uncomfortable silence, he spoke again. “Despite your griping, you’re good with the people,” he observed.

“Comes with the territory I guess,” you shrugged. “All the politics up top and my job…” you trailed off.

Vander stroked a hand over his beard as he swirled the glass idly. “A teacher, eh?” He asked. “Did you like it?”

You sighed. “It was the best part of my life,” you told him, that faraway look taking over your expression. “Those kids… they were everything to me.”

He nodded in understanding. “They’re all the more foolish to let you go,” he said, tipping his head back and draining your glass. You looked down at your hands folded in your lap, fighting to keep all your emotions you’d been white-knuckling at bay. “You don’t have to talk about it,” he said. “But you can if you want to.”

“I think it’s best left in the past, now.”

A/N: Let me know if you enjoyed! And as always, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Have a good day/afternoon/night, my loves! <3

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