Chapter Text
Honestly, Jayce was surprised he had managed to be so normal during the months since Viktor's departure. He thought Cait was going to have to drag his ass out of the lab by his ankles, but no, he actually found some kind of rhythm he could survive in.
Guarding the Hexgates made sense, and it was something he was already doing anyway. His first act upon his return to the land of the living was to key the Hexgates to his Hammer so that nobody could access the chambers without his explicit permission. He would never let Hextech fall into the wrong hands again for as long as he still drew breath.
And it made sense to help keep Piltover safe, topside and bottom, especially because Viktor was somewhere out there and could get caught in the crossfire should an all-out war break out. It made sense to build whatever weapons Caitlyn needed in order to keep the city together in the wake of Zaun's failed play for independence. And it made sense that only Jayce was allowed to build them, since absolutely no one else could be trusted with Hextech. Not anymore.
So he kept busy. And some days he even managed to think about something other than Viktor for five consecutive minutes. Commander Kiramman would be proud.
The sweat and the heat of the forge were a frequent companion these days. Jayce slicked his wet hair off of his forehead as he pulled another rifle barrel from its quenching water--the last one for the day. He had made them all to the exact specifications Caitlyn had laid out for him. He wasn't much one for weapons, and she knew that. What she didn't know--and Jayce wouldn't tell her--was that he wasn't much one for engineering these days, either. Invention was still too raw, too painful. At the end of each design iteration he would turn to ask for a once-over to check his work and find only the empty space where his partner used to be. It was too much. So Cait supplied the designs, and Jayce built them. It was stimulating enough, and it occupied time that would otherwise only be spent missing Viktor.
But in the spaces in between, where he tried to pay attention to something--anything else, Jayce was soon plagued by stories of the Machine Herald of Zaun circulating in the Piltover rumor mill. The attitudes varied: some dismissive, some concerned, some vicious. He recognized the description of the Herald's strange body, often speculated to be augmented by the Herald's own hand--to unknown and possibly worrying ends. Jayce had been the last to see Viktor before he had left topside, so it was possible that he was the only person who knew where this Machine Herald had really come from. It was nice, Jayce decided, to hear news about Viktor, even if he wanted to deck the Piltover elites who had taken to fearmongering about him as a potential threat. It was nice to hear that he was okay.
Today was a particularly bad day. The day's best streak was thirteen seconds without thinking of Viktor, and that was only because Caitlyn was talking to him about her plans for the next round of weapons. That streak ended when Jayce felt the familiar resignation towards being an instrument for violence and thought the familiar thoughts about how much Viktor would hate that.
His will had been stretched to its limit, and today was the day it snapped.
"Damn it," Jayce muttered to himself. Always to himself. He could no longer keep himself in check. He had to see Viktor. He had no choice now but to seek out the source of the rumors that continued to cross his path. It had been years since he last visited the underground, and though he knew things were different now--Jinx was still at large, and Cait had informed him that unrest in the undercity was steadily growing, thrown into chaos after the neutralization of the remaining chembarons--anything was worth the risk. He would walk through the fires of the Talis forge if it brought him even one step closer to his partner.
I just need to see his face, he told himself, Then I'll leave him alone.
At the end of his harrowing journey through the underground, Jayce emerged from beneath a fissure bridge and made his way to the mouth of the commune, tucked into a clearing where the earth yawned open. It was framed by a gleaming arch, each multicolored pane of glass held in place by wrought iron, curving across the gap like a frozen wave. Just beyond, the compound was radiant, seemingly hugged on all sides by the looming chasm. A shaft of sunlight shone through the center, illuminating a massive spherical building cradled by decorative structures that reminded Jayce of a halo. Every part of the commune seemed designed to draw attention to this breathtaking centerpiece.
He was stopped at the archway by a pale, thin man--apparently the gatekeeper. Jayce was struck by the look of him. His skin was youthful, clear and unblemished, save for intricate, iridescent patterns making their way across his right arm and his face. His limpid blue eyes gleamed with sincerity.
"Come, all are welcome," said the man with his reedy voice. "Please leave your weapons at the door."
Jayce patted himself down. He hadn't brought weapons, but the action was instinctive: there was always the possibility that he had forgotten a chisel in a breast pocket or a hammer in his pants. After checking himself over and finding he didn't have anything on him, he thanked the man at the arch and walked through.
When Jayce left the safety of Piltover proper, he had expected destitution and wreckage far greater than what he'd seen in the underground as a young man, and he had found it. But there was no way he could have expected this, sparkling and pristine in the middle of it all. The commune was an underground paradise. Heavy baskets of fruit leaned up against canvas walls and metal stakes. Yellow flower buds were peppered everywhere, their petals slowly unfurling in the cool cavern air, coated in droplets like morning dew. People were milling about on their errands, waving at each other like old friends and occasionally stopping for conversation. The commune members moved with a quiet, reverent grace, as if every task was part of a sacred ritual. It was like an impossible dream come to life.
There was so much to see, but nothing was more important than the reason he came. I just need to see his face, he repeated to himself. He turned back to the gatekeeper and timidly cleared his throat.
"Excuse me, where would I find the Machine Herald?"
"Of course," said the man, as if this was a request made of him all the time. He turned smoothly from his post. "Allow me to escort you."
They walked along the gently graded path that ran through the center of the compound. Jayce drank in the sights as much as he could as they passed. Near the entrance was a manned tent with piles upon piles of fruits in baskets, resting on crates, hanging from curved metal supports. As they strode deeper into the commune he saw what appeared to be a forge, and Jayce could see two blacksmiths just inside, hammering away on their anvils. A blazing kiln belched fire, stoked by massive, ornate bellows. Children played by a fountain gushing crystal clear water, no doubt a novel sight for Zaun. A round, greenish dome sat near the fountain, sparkling under the sunlight like the surface of the ocean.
Eventually they approached the gleaming centerpiece Jayce had seen from the entrance. Golden struts crisscrossed along the sides of the halo, their edges imperfect and organic, as if someone had poured molten brass over curved truss before hammering it into shape. The surface of the orb had the same organic texture, with metallic strands wrapping around its outside like a net of lace. Jayce recalled the look of Viktor's body before he left the lab. It was the same: pure metal, crisscrossed like organic materials--like muscle. Of course this structure was where he would find him. Of course Viktor was in this place of obvious honor. With a mind like his, where else would he be? Jayce felt a sense of unearned satisfaction at the revelation that these people cherished Viktor the way he had always deserved to be--the way Jayce always should have.
Jayce caught sight of his escort from the corner of his eye and realized his rudeness. He turned. "I'm sorry," he said to the man, "I didn't catch your name." He held out a hand for a handshake.
"It's Huck," the man said, kindly but professionally. "The Herald knows you're here. He will come to greet you when he's ready." Jayce thrilled slightly at the knowledge that Viktor was aware of his presence.
"Thank you, Huck. I'm Jayce," he said, extending his hand further. "I appreciate your assistance." Huck only nodded, ignoring his hand. Jayce blinked and lowered it. Okay then. He took a deep breath and shifted his attention towards the mouth of the golden orb.
After several months of estrangement, Jayce wasn't sure what their reunion would be like. Over and over he had picked apart his mistakes in that lonely lab, and he didn't know how he could even begin to apologize for the ways he'd failed Viktor. It was some small comfort that Jayce's betrayal had led Viktor to this place where he could finally achieve what they together had failed with Hextech. Jayce waited patiently and kept his head bowed, willing and humble. Soon the soft clinking of metal on stone alerted him and he raised his eyes.
Viktor approached out of the shadows. After the months Jayce spent in his dark loneliness, the sight of Viktor was like seeing the sun. His hair had grown out, the ends just barely touched with white. Jayce looked over at Huck and suddenly realized that all of the people milling about the commune had similar pale streaks in their hair. Viktor's crutch--no, his staff--looked the same as it did when he left the lab that day, twisted and gnarled in ways fantastic and otherworldly. The dark metal of his body also remained, glowing with mysterious power, just as the rumors had said--and just as he remembered. A familiar length of deep blue fabric was wrapped around him, held in place by a complex tangle of rings and straps. Jayce's heart sang in quiet triumph. He kept it.
When they had last seen each other, Viktor's face had been twisted up with resentment and pain. Jayce had gone over the scene in his mind a thousand times, had come up with a thousand ways to try to make up for being the one responsible for putting that look on his face. But now, Jayce could feel the weight on his heart lift away. Viktor was resplendent. The look on his face was one of quiet joy, and Jayce was so happy to see that his partner was happy.
"Jayce," said Viktor with a warmth and affection that rang through despite the strange, distorted undertones. "I am so pleased to see you." Viktor held an arm out and beckoned with his fingers, inviting Jayce into an embrace. Viktor had never made such a request of Jayce before. In fact, as far as Jayce was aware, Viktor had never made such a request of anyone before.
After recovering from his brief shock, Jayce ran the rest of the way to Viktor and hugged him tightly, pulling him up off the ground and leaving his staff to clatter onto the floor. Viktor melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Jayce's shoulders and leaning his face against his neck. Jayce put Viktor back down on the ground and held him at arm's length so he could look at him.
"I thought you were done with Hextech," Jayce said. He swallowed hard, guilt and uncertainty peeking through, "And me."
"No," Viktor said earnestly, pressing his fingers down the side of Jayce's face. Though they were still cold metal, Jayce warmed at the touch. This was more physical affection than Viktor had ever given him before, and it made Jayce's heart swell. "I was clouded by emotions," Viktor continued. "I was not in a good place when we parted, Jayce. But I understand now; this was always destined. I can finally fulfill our dream. And now that you're here," Viktor placed his other hand on Jayce's shoulder, "We can do it together, as partners."
It wasn't a question, but Jayce knew his answer anyway. He beamed down at Viktor. "I would absolutely love that." So grateful that Viktor hadn't rejected him, he gripped him in another hug, crushing his small yet newly sturdy body close to his chest. He pushed back to look at his face again, that face that had followed him like a phantom all these months. "God, I've missed you, Viktor."
Viktor looked up at him, eyes glimmering. "Have you had a chance to look around?"
"Not much," Jayce admitted, shrugging one shoulder. "I came straight here."
Viktor broke into a wide grin and Jayce's breath caught in his chest. He hadn't seen Viktor smile like that since that night in Heimerdinger's office so many years ago. "Come," Viktor said, tugging at Jayce's hand. "You must see all that I have accomplished." He knelt down to retrieve his staff and pulled Jayce back down the way he came.