The way they end the show with the same song they started with. Just, the simplicity of that scene with Vi perched on the table gazing into the fire, glass in hand, quietly contemplating, like she’s finally got the space to be quiet, to be heavy, solemn, mournful, but peaceful. She’s barefoot, she’s taken her wraps off. And she’s humming her mother’s song, the song that’s steeped in Zaun’s history and relationship with Piltover, the song that her little sister sang to keep herself distracted as they walked among the corpses of a failed revolution all those years ago on the bridge, Vi is now singing in the halls of Caitlyn’s childhood. Caitlyn, a blue blooded scion of Piltover; daughter of the councillor who ordered the construction of ventilation so the Zaunites could breathe, but who was outraged at the idea of them having independence; Caitlyn, who used that self same ventilation system ruthlessly, who carries the legacy of the enforcers who killed Vi’s parents in that self same revolution. That history and context is all there, stacked in itself like a nesting doll. But Caitlyn hears her from down the hall and she’s never heard Vi singing before and it makes her smile. She doesn’t know the words or the origin of the song, she’s just experiencing the simple joy of hearing your lover humming from down the hall and being so entranced she has to go to her. That’s the love that’ll be the foundation that they can work all the rest out over. There’s still so much to fix and do, between them, in their world, between their people, but they have the desire and the grit and the love to work it out. Such a simple scene that holds the world
