BLACKSMITH VI?????????? AWOOGA
i think i had the beginnings of this one from a while back. left it alone for a long time until that one tumblr post of a butch knight getting her armor engraved came back around and added a few words. the following is all that i have right now but i do want to expand on this... ---
Vi’s just about done with the forge, turning the coals down low in preparation for the night when the same knock comes as it always does. She’s not sure why she thought it wouldn’t when it’s been here every single night and would naturally come even on the first night of the Noxians being in town for the Mid Summer gala.
“It’s unlocked,” she calls out from the back, knowing her visitor knows their way into the room.
When she emerges it’s to the bob of a familiar ponytail.
“Your Highness,” says Vi.
"Vi," says the Prince, fingers drifting off an unfinished vambrace.
Vi takes her in, that once wiry frame growing more muscular with each passing year, the bruise peeking out from the collar, the dented pauldron she holds in her hands. Well, that'd certainly explain the bruise.
"I apologize for bringing you more work," she says, and has the grace to look at least somewhat repentant.
Vi is not fooled for a moment, having banged out many a dent over many a month. Has it even been a month since the last time the Prince came down for a visit? (No, it has not.)
"And the new set for the Harvest Festival."
The Prince nods. "I hope it will not be too much of an imposition."
"Pft," Vi waves a hand. "More business is always good. Gets me ahead of my plans."
"Plans?"
In the lamplight those eyes are jewels. Vi has a pair in the back that she has been keeping for years now. Found them wandering the market once, the sky captured in stone, and could not resist. Why, she could not say, since the Prince has never asked for anything more than functional work and Vi has not yet dared ask if the Prince would ever consider more artful adornment of her armor. Part of her is thankful, given how often the Prince gets her armor banged up (surely whoever she is training with must have some reservations with beating up the next in line to the throne), but part of her feels weirdly indignant about the whole thing. Vi's damn good at her job and that means she's pretty damn good at decorating armor too.
"Would love to travel," she says instead. "Catching glimpses from visiting nobles is one thing, learning how they fire their forges and craft their work is another."
The Prince is oddly silent. Oddly not because she is never silent, but oddly because there is a weight to this silence, to the gaze that does not leave Vi for even a moment.
Then it passes.
The Prince smiles ever so slightly. "I saw some of your work on Jayce's breastplate." Her fingers tap on the pauldron in her hands in that one nervous way Vi's not sure she's ever noticed. The smile turns a little rueful. "It might be yet another impertinent ask, but would you care to adorn mine for the Festival?"
Vi stares back at her.
"Yours, Your Highness?"
The Prince nods, back stiff and ramrod straight.
"It would be an honor," Vi says. Then,"You sure?"
The Prince's smile grows impish. "Without a doubt."