Chapter Text
Once upon a time, deep in the woods of the kingdom of Zaun, rested a homey cottage.
Within this cottage, Viktor, the hidden crown prince and mage of Zaun, gazed down at the fog of his bubbling cauldron, and passed his hand over as he whispered the incantation. An ancient spell, one he had invoked every day since the death of his love.
…
The stars glimmered, yet nothing else.
Silence.
…
Jayce was truly gone.
Just like every time, the pitch black concoctions remained as dark as the omega’s robes of deepest night in mourning. The only color slashed through his waist, a torn sash of rich sapphire hue on one side, and blood-red ruby on the other.
Viktor stepped away from the cauldron, and closed his eyes, wrapping his hands around himself in empty comfort. A pathetic echo of how his knight once warmly held him close.
The only things that kept him going anymore made themselves known, in distant sounds that cut through the peaceful woods.
A child’s laugh, as their first born played behind the cottage amongst wildflowers happily with Sevika nearby, the one guard he trusted that was assigned to him. Who had been one of the few who survived the siege.
Then an infant’s soft cry, that got Viktor to open his eyes. The need to go towards the other room heightened, where his son lay in his crib…
When the door to the cottage opened, the prince did not need to look behind him to see the imposing figure that casted his shadow over the peace of his home.
“My dear queen.”
Viktor stiffened, as heavy armored footsteps came closer, and arms that felt like shackles wrapped around him.
He would never acknowledge the title forced onto him, as was all the rest. Within, he is still the crown prince. Never his.
“Look at me, my love. Have the manners of the court fled you in these backwater woods?” The omega’s chin was forcefully grabbed, and he was made to look upon the man he had to marry to protect his people.
The Alornian General, and now King of Zaun, Sonnem Parlec.
Donned in the royal armor, Parlec was a tall golden-haired alpha a decade older than him, finely bearded and statuesque. Cuttingly handsome to most people, and the very picture of a strong ruler. Once from Piltover, he was famed before to have met his enemies blindfolded. That was not so when the general violently took over the throne…
And murdered the love of his life.
Viktor wanted to spit in his face, but instead settled for a frown, as he softly greeted his husband. “Apologies. I feel…unwell.”
“Ah, I understand.” Parlec smiled, and it disgusted the prince as he lowered his hand, and caressed his stomach.
“The Curse must take a toll on you. My poor queen, how you must be weakened so.” Viktor shuddered.
The Curse.
On the morning of his wedding, forced into pure ivory silk, Viktor secretly cursed his own body.
Grieving and heartbroken, knowing what would happen at night when Parlec would bond with him, the mage molded his flesh into metal, so no other man could ever claim or impregnate his body, ever again. The soon to be king, when his bride had not arrived at the altar, found him like so. His guards paralyzed by the door, and Viktor convulsing on the ground, blood staining his wedding robes, as magic and steel corrupted that which Parlec coveted the most.
Tied to his Jayce’s blood, his fallen lover gone from this world, his curse was near impossible to break, no matter how many healing mages the once general brought to look at him.
A man’s mind hides behind his body, the once Alornian general loved to preach. Repulsed by the transfiguration of his bride that he could no longer use as a breeder for the royal bloodline, Parlec married Viktor not in the loud proclamation all over the kingdom as he originally planned, but in quiet solitude, with no one else but the priest and the higher officials in the man’s pockets.
Now hidden away from the rest of the kingdom in disgust, yet needing his body to produce a legitimate heir, Parlec kept him imprisoned in his own mage’s cottage where he once researched the Arcane, and enforced Viktor to find a cure ever since.
Yet no one could undo his vow, and no one ever will.
“I came to visit to check on your progress, breaking your affliction. I’m sure the poor children are beside themselves, living here rather than in the castle.” the intruder alpha smirked, inclining his head to the continued whimpers and cries of his son in the other room. Viktor wanted to snarl, still caged in by his husband and unable to go to his infant child.
There were many reasons he refused to let the usurper keep his children away from him in the castle while he was here, ‘breaking’ the curse. Among them being how his once first home had become like a military fort more than a safe place for a young girl and a baby. He would rather die than let Parlec separate him again from his loved ones. The king had not killed him yet… In his darkest, lowest moments, Viktor wished that Parlec did. Then he would be together with his knight once more.
The only thing keeping the grieving omega from following Jayce and letting the curse consume him, was their children, who needed their last remaining parent more than ever.
Viktor would protect them until the day he was no longer alive, and so he must live, for them.
Lying through his teeth, the mage prince responded. “The Curse draws its energy from my own reserves. I have been channeling a different path for it elsewhere.” Pride surged in him when visible disappointment showed on the other’s face, and he took the chance to slowly disentangle himself to fully face his husband in oath, yet not in love. “Have you found my assailant yet? There is hope, should they hold the formula for the hex cast upon me.”
So far, despite his worries, they had not suspected him of being the very one to have placed the curse. For who would do such a thing to themselves?
Parlec only studied him for a moment, then shook his head slightly. “Given my enemies, and the many who were invited for the royal wedding that did not come to pass, we still cannot find them. Yet we must tread carefully, as we have bigger issues at hand.”
“Our people are getting restless. They have not seen their beloved queen in months, not since the beginning of my reign. That, and there are these inane rumors upon our borders of some dark knight. My men are saying this, Defender, is responsible for their failures lately. What drivel.” His husband sighed, then repulsively stroked Viktor’s metal cheek. That which could not be hidden, no matter how they tried. “Perhaps a mask…” Muttered under his breath, looking at him like a prized mare that needed grooming before being taken out for a ride. A crease in the alpha’s handsome features, as he spoke aloud.
“You look even paler, my love. Have you been eating?”
He couldn’t take it anymore, and so Viktor snarled back. “My people are dying, Parlec. You are starving them, forcing them to work in your conquest against Piltover, when you know they are not soldiers. They are restless, because they want to live.”
His anger drained any good nature from Parlec’s expression, and was replaced with his true nature, as Viktor felt his back painfully collide with the edge of his wooden table behind him, the potions and other tools rattling with the force as his husband shoved into his space, then spoke in a low threatening voice.
“The only reason you are alive, is because of this.” A contrasting gentle touch upon his abdomen, empty of the life Parlec desired from him. “Should your curse never be lifted…”
What passed through the alpha’s eyes, his insinuations and wordless promises, made horror, revulsion and dread mix terribly within Viktor, and yet he stood his ground against the monster who took so much from him.
The tense silence stretched uncomfortably for a few seconds, broken only by his baby son crying out for him still, before the usurper relaxed, and leaned back. “Apologies, my love. That was unsightly of me.” He caressed his face and played with the longer strands of his wavy hair, heightening the omega’s discomfort as the other man gave a small smile. “How lucky the people are to have you as my queen, and care so deeply for them.”
Infant sobs finally tapered into whimpers that hurt Viktor worse than the pain Parlec had thrust upon him. That made the false king smile. “Peace and quiet, at last. That would have been quite annoying in the castle. Perhaps your bastard children are better off here after all.”
In a flash Viktor snarled and wanted to slap Parlec straight across the face, a sharp crack that would echo in the cottage, but the blonde king acquiesced, stepping back with a wider grin. “Apologies again, my dear. I had forgotten your father legitimized them before his passing, bless his heart. I must honor at least some of my predecessor’s decrees.” Passing, as though his father died in his sleep, and not murdered before Viktor’s very eyes —
“I will return within a fortnight, to check on your progress once again. I may bring another healer mage. This one I have high hopes for, she’s renowned in our ally’s kingdom of Noxus.” Armor noisily sounded as Parlec turned to leave, and paused at the doorway.
“Farewell until then, and know that I dream of you every night.”
Honeyed words that tasted like ashes in his throat, as Parlec finally left Viktor alone, and sick to his stomach. The moment the door closed, he quickly made his way to the other room to check on his son.
“Vel…”
Golden eyes like his, wet and round with tears streaking down full cheeks, scrunched once more as Vel began to cry again, only quieting when his mother picked him up and held him close. Soft hiccups and tiny hands gripping the fabric of his mourning clothes, before slowly falling asleep in his parent’s arms.
“I’m sorry…” Vel settled, as Viktor wiped the tears from his son’s face gently. “I’m sorry…”
His daughter’s laugh could be heard from the window, as Thalessa exclaimed she found another flower in her search.
Cupping the back of Vel’s head as his son slept tiredly, Viktor looked out the window, and saw Thal with a bundle of flowers in her hands, making her way to a basket with even more inside. Sevika was standing nearby, dutifully on guard, and he was grateful his daughter’s peace was not disturbed by Parlec’s visit.
Next to the window was a small bookshelf of fairy tales and mythos books that once belonged to Viktor when he was young. He ran his fingers slowly across the aged spines, fondly remembering the stories he now told to his children.
And taking one book out to reveal the hiding place of another, Viktor pulled out his alpha’s leather journal, emblazoned with his House sigil.
His transmutated leg twinged from standing up too long, and Viktor winced. He’d left behind his staff in the rush to console his son, and so settled on sitting upon his bed on the other side. Vel refused to let go of him even in his unconscious state, so he maneuvered to lay down with his son sleeping on his chest, as he opened the worn parchment pages.
Jayce’s hex crystal cuff bracelet, cleaned of his knight’s blood, sang softly with dormant magic.
Viktor sadly smiled at the gleam of the makeshift bookmark he stored within his knight’s journal, that was both for research and Jayce’s diary of seven years since he came to Zaun, when they first met. He then flipped through the pages lightly, knowing their contents by heart after he had salvaged it from the siege, but took comfort in reading some passages once more nevertheless, while his other hand stayed on his son’s sleep-warm back, soothing them both.
Emotional exhaustion pulled him in as his son peacefully slept on his chest, and Viktor laid his beloved’s journal close to his heart as well, lulled into slumber, as he remembered their love.
Jayce Talis, disgraced alpha heir to the fallen House Talis, was on his knees before the old King of Zaun, upset.
“Your son?”
The king, old and kindly as his regal crown gleamed in the sunlight of the throne room, nodded with a wise smile.
“Yes. My only child, Viktor. In exchange for sanctuary in my castle, I am stationing you by his side, as his knight and companion.”
Jayce was baffled by the king’s orders, and what he was asking of him to be from this moment forth. The weight of his exile felt heavier on his shoulders. “The crown prince?” He protested slightly, trying to understand. “I…I know nothing of him. You must have more experienced knights in your order to protect your heir.” Yet the king only stroked his beard as he thoughtfully responded.
“You were a Lord in training, yes? Knighthood would be becoming of you, to be Sir Talis. As much as I trust the knights in my reserve, I believe you are the best suited for the task. And as an unmated alpha, only you can help with my son.” Jayce tried not to wince, being slapped in the face once more after the loss of his title. “Many would be honored to be given such a position, though you question why.” The king gave a benign smile.
“Two lunar phases ago, my son finally reached marrying age, and has begun experiencing heat cycles. He is the future of Zaun, and considered a great beauty. So much so that there are more than a few people who have been driven mad merely looking upon his face. Suitors have already become a problem, and for now Viktor has expressed he does not wish to marry yet.” Jayce frowned, assuming the regent spoke in fond hyperbole of his only child. “That, and he is prone to disappearing off on his own whims for his research into the Arcane. Where he goes, I cannot honestly say.”
“I would rather there be someone by his side when he does so, who will protect him when I cannot.” For a moment, the regal air of the king faded, and Jayce could now see the fond exasperated aura of a father. “And one who can help temper his more, wilder pursuits. His eccentric appetites, until the day comes when he eventually chooses his consort.”
The wording of the king’s last statement made confusion and dread pit in the alpha’s stomach, when it finally clicked in Jayce’s head, and he muttered in disbelief, fist tightening by his side.
“I would be his concubine?”
To be a spoiled brat prince’s shield and outlet of pleasure, used like nothing more than relief…
Jayce lowered his head, hiding his disgust and shame from the king, not hearing his next words as he basked in how far he had fallen.
Only days ago he was still Lord Jayce Talis, heir to his great House, honored by both the nobility and royalty of Piltover. Engaged to the Princess Mel Medarda in arrangement, a beautiful rising mage from the kingdom of Noxus, whom he was so excited to marry and be in love with. His life was perfect.
Until he was found researching how to recreate magic, that which was strictly forbidden within Piltover, a kingdom that was built to escape the warmongering of mages.
Even with his close ties to the royal Heimerdinger family, he was immediately disavowed, his engagement severed. To protect his House and his mother, Jayce was exiled to their neighboring ally kingdom of Zaun, never to return home. His name and standing was tainted, and the reason why he wasn’t exiled to Noxus, so as not to bring further shame.
Zaun was a lower and smaller kingdom, having a past history of enmity with Piltover. Though they were now separate and allied to its sister, the undercity kingdom defied Piltover by welcoming magic of all kinds, even alchemy. King Heimerdinger with a mixture of sorrow and assuring comfort promised that Zaun would welcome someone like him. Someone now dangerous.
He had hope, as his mother tearfully hugged him, promising to send letters, before sending her son away. That he might have the chance to truly study magic even as someone born without the abilities of the Arcane. That he could flourish in Zaun, even with nothing but the clothes on his back and the few belongings he had left of home.
And now, to be told his imminent future, nothing but an alpha to bed when convenient, a knight only in title, made to babysit a wild omega…
“Jayce?”
It took effort to raise his head, and look upon the face of the king, whose voice now deepened.
“Your family bade you obey me in her last wishes. For your mother entrusting me with your future, I entrust you now with mine.”
The responsibility, no matter how demeaning, weighed heavily in his throat, and Jayce couldn’t stop himself from questioning.
“Why?” A foreign alpha, with little to no experience guarding someone, much less to a crown prince, who he knew nothing about…
“...”
The king stood up, his rich robes stiff in their movement as he walked to where Jayce knelt before him, and murmured in confession, with a sad smile.
“I wish for Viktor to have a friend, Jayce. He does not tell me, but I know my son, and he has always been deeply lonely, growing up without anyone who understands him.”
A friend?
“I would be honored, if such friendship blossoms between you both.”
The king’s close righthand men, Silco and Vander, fit Jayce in armor emblazoned with the royal family’s rune emblem, then sent him off. There were further duties to attend to for now, and the monarch vowed to knight him with the prince’s help in three days time.
In his new armor that slowed his steps as the alpha got used to the heaviness, Jayce was escorted to Prince Viktor’s quarters, where he stood now at the doorway, and knocked.
No response on the first knock, yet Jayce could hear movement from inside, among other muffled sounds. He frowned, and knocked again.
“Hello, my — ” Jayce coughed, “Prince Viktor? May I come in?” Nothing again, and the discomfort of his new armor had made his patience worse. Adjusting his chainmail at his collarbone, he silently wished they would allow him to forge one day so he could make his own knight’s armor attuned to him alone.
“My name is Jayce Talis. I’m here on behalf of your father, the King, as your new appointed knight.” He did not have the breath to say concubine yet, and so he stayed his tongue for now. Surely the omega knew what his station would be.
Rather than introducing him in a formal kneel, he spoke at the wooden grain of the door. Another moment’s silence, and Jayce scowled, ready to leave or open it regardless of courtesy —
“I believe someone should have said that earlier.”
When the door finally opened, yet just as quickly the prince turned his back and walked back inside.
Stunned for a second, Jayce took a step inside the prince’s quarters. In the center laid a bubbling cauldron, surrounded by books and all manner of casting ingredients. To the side was a large ornate chalkboard filled to the brim with runic equations, alongside pinned scraps of parchment with added notes. There were two other doors inside, with one wide open, leading to a richly decorated bedroom with a canopy frame and a tapestry weaved with the night’s constellations.
With his back turned to him, Jayce could begin to take in Viktor…and sharply inhaled in offended horror.
When he arrived a few days ago, one of the few things he got to bring from home was his childhood blanket, a soft cloth that was rich blue on one side, and deep ruby on the other. His mother Ximena had packed other riches from their House, telling Jayce that the king or royal family would choose what to take as tribute from him, to their liking.
Yet amidst the small treasures Jayce had brought to Zaun, it was this very blanket that got caught in the mix, and made into a dress for the royal omega. Floor length with flowing sleeves that presented the rich red in contrast to the rest of the garment’s blue.
One of the last remnants Jayce had left of home, distorted for a spoiled prince’s comfort.
“I told my father I do not need a guard. Thank you for volunteering, but you may leave.”
“…”
Unbothered by his growing anger, Prince Viktor had set down his staff and picked up an ancient tome to read, twirling the back of his hair idly in deep thought of his magical research, allowed and encouraged, that which exiled him, and the insinuation he would ever willingly choose to be here —
“…I can’t.” Jayce finally grit through his teeth. “I have no choice.”
That finally made the omega pause, and slowly turn his head to the side.
“…You’re our new ward, from Piltover.”
Ward was a deceptively kind term for what he was now, and Jayce opened his mouth ready to finally snap at the brat prince, fed up with everything, needing to lash out —
When Viktor turned to now fully look at him, and Jayce felt his breath leave his lungs.
Framed in a silver circlet upon his head, sharp yet stunningly handsome, dotted with moles. Viktor gazed into his very soul with warm golden eyes, and adorned in the dress made from his blanket, glowed as though painted divine. A face that made people go mad by mere glance.
His inner alpha woke up, scenting the air of lavender and sweetmilk mixed with Jayce’s own, faded, yet embracing the omega intimately…
“I heard you were exiled, for trying to create magic.” Viktor picked up his staff that had been leaning on a table, and walked towards Jayce. The knight blinked, and pushed himself to focus. What was that?
“As someone not born gifted in the Arcane, your theory intrigues.”
“It’s not a theory.” Jayce blurted before he could hold back, then bit his tongue and looked away. Viktor was patient, and seemed to know he had more to say. “I…”
Trapped in a snowstorm upon the mountain peak, his mother near lifeless and frozen as he begged for help, and by a miracle, someone did…
“I saw it with my own eyes, what magic can do. The lives it could save.” Jayce felt his heart sink, remembering what he went through as a child, and the realization truly hit. He would never be able to help people the way he wanted to. Could never show to those like him, how beautiful magic is for everyone. “But now…it’s gone.”
“No one believed in it.” In me, Jayce left unsaid.
Then, Viktor surprised him, and handed his knight a piece of chalk, with a soft daring murmur.
“Show me.”
Jayce froze, the chalk in his palm, staring at the mage prince.
“What? N-no, I can’t.”
He tried to give it back to Viktor, and confessed, ashamed. “My research…It blew up. Amounted to nothing.” Meaningless, his mother who once was saved by magic had mourned, tried pleading to the king that he was not in his right mind to lessen his sentence. All it did was hurt her son where the truth was.
“No one thinks it can be done.”
Despite his protests, Viktor closed his hand around Jayce’s to keep the chalk he had gifted, and his next words laden with an inspired expression, made his heart skip a beat.
“When you’re going to change the world, don’t ask for permission.” Golden eyes searched stunned hazel, then smiled. “You were seeking to make the world a better place. Show me how, and perhaps we may do so, together.”
Oh.
In awe and still stunned, Jayce accepted the chalk, and the gentle hand that guided him to the board…
Night fell before the knight and prince knew it, as they became ever closer, and soon followed the sunrise.