Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jayce of the Piltover Kingdom learnt early on that being a prince meant nothing if your country had shit rulers beforehand.

Talis family only came to be royal two generations ago, and it showed. Previous rulers, those whose names shall be forgotten, have run the kingdom to ruin and then some. Instead of creating a stable future for everyone, they took wealth for themselves and paid bribes to stay in power.

Now the Talis family is trying their best to figure out how to balance everything. Jayce included.

The problem is that they don’t have modern army, a lot of natural resources are given away in badly constructed exchange deals they cannot break for another few years, and all the funds that they do have are going into making sure their people don’t starve or fall ill, rendering them unable to work and therefore cutting the funds even more.

So here comes Jayce’s role in all this shitshow. Try to make a good first impression on many rulers of surrounding countries, and try to re-negotiate deals with them.

He has practiced his manners, posture, expressions and etiquette all his life, culminating in this moment. He is wearing his best clothes—which aren’t that good, he couldn’t afford better ones—and plastering a pleasant little smile on his face. Nothing too overconfident. Nothing not confident enough. Either option could make him enemies.

He enters the banquet hall as his name and titles are read out, and several other nobles and rulers of other Kingdoms incline their heads in greetings.

He goes in with his chin held high, but not too high. His movements might appear graceful and carefree, but he’s so anxious it would show if he hasn’t practiced this a million times.

Breathe, just breathe.

His eyes are fixed on the wall somewhere in front of him, but he sees, out of the corner of his eyes, a figure zeroing in on him. Ah shit.

He pretends not to notice for as long as he can, but he cannot hurry, or they’ll know, and he cannot do anything to hide in the crowd because the person is parting the sea of people like Moses.

He pretends to notice when the figure is closer to him, close enough they’d be able to communicate, and he smiles a little wider, just a little.

It’s the fucking Head of the Hivemind.

Jayce screams internally as he inclines his head in greeting. What are they doing here? Why did they zero-in on him? What the hell?

“Jayce Talis,” their weird mechanical voice announces, “If I may?” The two-faced mechanical overlord extends a metallic hand to ask him for a dance.

Jayce is sweating bullets. He should accept. It is not only rude but a serious offence not to accept a dance invitation. But everyone knows that the Head of the Hivemind can make you their puppet by just a touch.

They wouldn’t do that in front of so many people, right?

Right?

Jayce widens his smile juuuuuuuust a tiny bit more and accepts.

He wraps his arm gently around the Hivemind’s leader's arm and prays to any god that listens that his thoughts stay his own.

He keeps his steps light as the two-faced being leads them both towards the dance floor. Miraculously nothing happens. No light gets out of his eyes, his skin doesn’t turn into metal, nothing.

The Lord of Many Voices swiftly gets them both into a dancing position. They’re taller than Jayce so they lead. Step after step Jayce relaxes just the tiny bit. He isn’t sure where to look, considering the two faces on the herald’s face are ‘looking’ to the sides, and they don’t have proper eyes. Or mouth. Or anything really.

“Your mind is thrumming with questions, Jayce Talis,” they say, almost softly. “Ask them.”

Jayce doesn’t know where to start but he knows the clock is ticking so he blurts out, “Why approach me?”

The Head of the Hivemind chuckles. “My predecessor has struck a nasty deal with your grandparents’ predecessor, and I wish to amend it, considering I am the one in charge now.”

Jayce breathes out a soft ‘oh’, but before he can say anything else, the herald continues.

“You have also looked… lost. And who am I if not a shepherd?” The Lord of Many Voices twirls him around like a doll for a second, before reassuming the normal rhythm of the dance. Jayce hopes it will be the last emotional roller-coaster of the night, when they say something that chills him completely: “Your mind calls out to me.”

It makes the blood freeze in his veins. All the hope that has built up over the course of this short conversation, leading him to believe he won’t be pulled into the hivemind, is shattered.

“Ye-Yeah…?” he barely manages. His fear must be evident, because the herald shakes their head.

“Not like that.” They twirl them again but gentler this time, and Jayce realises he’s being led further and further away from the crowd. “I can control my urges,” the Head of the Hivemind speaks softly, like they want to convince him of their goodwill.

“Why tell me about it then?” Jayce asks unevenly. His voice shakes, he runs out of breath despite the simple steps he’s making.

“Just so you know,” the herald sounds almost amused.

The music swells into a finale of the piece and Jayce is once again spun around and led even closer to the back exit.

His panic spikes and the Lord of Many Voices jolts then stops. “You’re afraid.”

Jayce holds his tongue, just staring at the blank facsimile of the face in front of him.

“I… may have come on too strong,” the herald sounds nearly apologetic. “I will give you some time to think.”

About what? Jayce wants to ask, desperately, but he stops himself and nods curtly.

The Head of the Hivemind offers him their arm and Jayce hesitantly wraps around it, hoping he’ll be led out of the dance floor. Thankfully he’s right.

“Apologies.” The herald murmurs, as they squeeze his shoulder and let go. “I might have less control than I thought, after all.” With those cryptic words they turn around and walk away, possibly to find someone else, more worthy of conversing with.

Jayce follows them with his eyes almost thoughtlessly when he sees another person zeroing in on them. Huh. Maybe that’s just how the monarchs were here?

The woman steps gracefully but with intent, and catches the herald by the hand, dragging them behind her as she goes towards the exit. The gesture speaks of familiarity and Jayce feels a stab of envy. He’d like to be familiar enough and confident enough to be able to touch the herald without being afraid of getting turned into one of their puppets.

A servant comes and offers him a glass of champagne, which he accepts, and sips from slowly. No one else approaches him, and he thinks he is justified in not approaching anyone else after the encounter he just had. He’d complete his duties soon, he just needed a… breather.

Not a minute of this ‘breather’ passes when the mysterious confident woman and the herald emerge from the back and start dancing as well.

He notes the dark tint of her skin, the gold seemingly spilling on it, on her face, on her arms, and realises that this must be the Queen of Noxus, freshly crowned after killing her mother two months ago.

He gulps quietly. No wonder she was fearless in the face of the Head of the Hivemind. She had magic of her own, one that probably outweighed the Hivemind’s, and even if it didn’t, it was probably enough to resist them twice over and kill them with one slash of the golden aura.

He realises he is staring, but how can he not, when those two graceful beings are floating on the dance floor? The herald is once again the one who’s leading, but Queen Meleadora is looking at them like she wants to eat them, like she could eat them in one bite.

She is the fox and the wolf, he remembers his father saying. Never turn your back on her.

So he doesn’t, he stares, he watches as her bare feet barely touch the floor as she is twirled around by the herald. They look so natural together, like they’ve been doing it many, many times.

He watches as the Head of the Hivemind dips the Queen in a swift motion, lets her hang there, suspended only by their hand, for just a second, then brings her back into their arms.

He cannot explain the sheer envy he feels.

Your mind calls out to me, the herald has said, but did that mean Jayce was doomed? That he’s destined to join the hivemind and be a mindless body?

He hopes not. But his mind goes back to the moment of the dance, how electric it felt, even if terrifying, and he thinks, thinks, thinks, and he… He could use it. For his kingdom’s benefit. If he managed to play the Hivemind, maybe, just maybe, the deals would be reworked and balance restored.

He is so deep in his thoughts he barely notices the song coming to an end and the pair separating. Surprisingly enough Queen Meleadora doesn’t stick around but rather goes on a hunt. And Jayce is using this word very literally because she is pursuing something and he doesn’t realise that something is him until their gazes meet and she swiftly changes her path, twisting and turning between the people in the crowd to get to him.

Oh God. is all Jayce thinks before she approaches and extends a hand in an invitation.

“May I have this dance?” she asks, short, to the point and with a dazzling smile.

Jayce nods slowly and accepts the invitation, letting himself be led to the dance floor one more time. He is barely taller than her, but the fact stands he is, so he is the one leading the dance, as per etiquette. He feels like she’s the one who leads him anyway.

“Jayce Talis, am I right?” she asks, her voice low and dangerous and just the tiniest bit seductive.

“That would be me,” he replies, trying to match the tone.

“Do you know who I am?” She has dimples when she smiles. It’s adorable. He knows that despite this, she is deadly.

“Your Highness, Queen of Noxus, Meleadora the First,” he replies with the full title and she chuckles. It’s a beautiful sound.

“Just Mel is enough.” He almost stumbles as she leans further into his personal space than is strictly necessary for the purpose of the dance. “Viktor and I have been… talking,” she starts but doesn’t continue.

Who the hell is Viktor? he wants to ask, but refrains. And what were you talking about?

“Why do I have a feeling you’ve been planning my life without having ever met me?” he asks, perhaps a tad bit too snappily, but if she feels insulted by it she doesn’t show it.

She smiles just a tad bit further and says, lowly, sultry and slowly: “Because I was.”

Ok then.

He twirls her suddenly, to avoid walking into another pair on the dance floor, and she grasps him more firmly. The look in her eyes is wild as she suddenly takes the lead and Jayce is helpless but to follow her.

She is a storm, a storm, a typhoon, a hurricane— either way a force of nature, about to tear him apart. The orchestra seems to focus on them because the song speeds up and the Queen speeds up and he must follow, he must, because he cannot make a fool out of himself—

A hand settles on his shoulder and Queen Meleadora stops in her tracks.

He doesn’t have to turn around to know who that is.

“Viktor, I was having fun,” the Queen pouts and the Head of the Hivemind sighs.

“Let us go get some fresh air,” they say it like a suggestion, but Jayce knows it to be a command.

He lets himself be led out, the Queen still hanging off his arm, and the herald still holding onto his shoulder.

He cannot help the feeling that he is thoroughly and completely fucked.

Chapter Text

Jayce is completely lost in the darkness. Something tells him that the Head of the Hivemind and the Queen of Noxus have no problems seeing despite it being pitch black outside. He tries to keep up, even as the walk becomes less of a walk and more of a sprint, until he trips over something, and the other two are forced to catch him so he doesn’t splatter on the ground and break his nose.

“Careful, don’t wanna damage your pretty face,” the Queen says, suddenly entirely too close to his face.

Jayce flushes hot and hopes the darkness covers it at least partially. He feels ashamed. And confused. And mad. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to be, if we weren’t running in total darkness!” he snaps.

There’s a bit of silence during which Jayce worries he has offended and completely ruined his chances with the Queen and the Herald, when the man sighs.

“We might have forgotten you don’t have access to magic,” he says flatly. Very flatly.

“Oopsie?” the Queen offers, not sounding apologetic at all.

“Oopsie,” the Herald repeats, still very flatly.

There’s a pause, and then—

“No,” Queen Meleadora says, and there’s another pause, as if she and Herald are communicating telepathically and she repeats, “No,” then, “I will not use the Arcane to become a glorified torch.”

“Would you rather lose this chance?” the Herald intones ominously and the Queen sighs.

“Fine.” And then Jayce can see, because Queen Meleadora is glowing.

He blinks, bewildered, but the image now burned into his retinas doesn’t change. Every single band of gold on her body is glowing, even those hidden by clothes… Especially those hidden by clothes, shining through currently. He averts his eyes to give an illusion of modesty and focuses on the Herald instead, to keep his eyes somewhere and—

“Since when do you have a face?” he blurts out as a surprisingly humane looking, if a little metallic on the edges, face looks at him.

Queen Meleadora snorts, undignified, then laughs out loud and the Herald frowns.

“I’ve always had a face. I wasn’t born the Head of Hivemind,” he says, all casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped an information bomb on him.

Jayce feels the need to defend himself, like a child caught with a hand down the cookie jar, “Well you certainly never let anyone know about that!”

“That,” the Herald blinks, bewildered, “Is true.”

What makes me so special then? Jayce wants to ask. Why reveal it to me?

The Queen apparently gets tired of being ignored because she snaps her fingers in front of his face until he’s looking at her.

“I can smell fear on you, but you are holding yourself strong,” she says with a smile, “Consider this the beginning of fruitful negotiations.”

…well that was easy.

He nods and bows slightly, giving her due respect. She just waves him off. “Don’t bother, you cannot sweeten me up any more than you’ve already had anyway.”

He wants to ask, he really does, but then his hand is caught in cold, metal ones and he sees Herald lowering himself to his knees. For a second he panics, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the mechanical Head of the Hivemind started feeling faint, when his thoughts catch up to him and he realises. That’s a machine. Powered by Arcane itself. He is most definitely not feeling faint.

Then what the hell is he doing on his knees?

“Jayce, the Prince and Heir to the throne of the Piltover Kingdom, I, the Head of Hivemind, the one of million voices, dare to ask you for your hand in marriage, and should you agree, to become parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched in the safety of the Hivemind.”

Jayce is pretty sure his eyes bulged out and suddenly he is the one who feels faint.

Queen Meleadora swats at the Herald. “Couldn’t you have done that later?”

The Herald doesn’t spare her a glance. His brilliant eyes are staring seemingly straight into Jayce’s soul, and he honestly has no idea what to say, what to do, what— what.

The Queen isn’t having it thought. She flicks the Herald's ear, and he moves minutely, not a flinch but not a non-reaction either.

“I asked you a question,” she says with a huff.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“My answer. It is ‘no’.”

The light dims until Jayce can barely make out their silhouettes again, and he hears a slap of skin against skin as the Queen facepalms, then a deep, profound, sigh.

“Do you see what I have to deal with?” she asks, gesturing at the Herald, and oh she’s asking Jayce.

“Um…”

“Oh, by the way, he isn’t going to let go until you answer, and also you should know that we’re a package deal,” she says casually, like she hasn’t just said that he needs to answer the Herald now and also that if he says ‘yes’ he wouldn’t be just marrying the Herald, he’d be marrying her as well.

And if he says ‘no’, he’s rejecting her as well.

Well this is a shit show. Out of all the unpleasant interactions he’s had in the past few years this takes the cake.

Okay, think fast, think fast, if he is married to them the Kingdom will gain immeasurable profits, due to having the backing of Hivemind and Noxus.

If he is married to them, he will have to join the Hivemind himself.

He really doesn’t want to become a puppet on the strings of some guy, as handsome as he is.

Alas the Kingdom requires sacrifices.

“Okay,” he says, breathless with fear. “I agree.”

The Queen’s eyes widen a millimetre and she snorts quietly. “And here I thought Viktor ruined our shot with his impatience.”

“I am not impatient.” The Herald gets up from his knees and brings Jayce’s hand to his face, kissing the top softly. “If anything, I showed remarkable restraint for not causing a multinational political scandal.”

“Whatever you say, Viktor.”

The following few hours are a blur. Jayce is led back to the party and left to his own devices as the Herald announces that he’ll start the preparations whatever that means. The Queen kisses his cheek and goes wherever it is she’s gone to, before he can protest, as well. That leaves him to mingle with the elites for another three and a half hours. He isn’t even sure if he made a good impression or not because all he can do is helplessly replay the conversation in his head. He is getting married. And then added to Hivemind. Fuck.

Caitlyn and Vi are going to have a field day with that. If his parents don’t kill him for this decision first, that is. Not out of any murderous tendencies, he just assumes he’ll be grounded for life despite being a) an adult and b) a prince. Or worse. His mother might actually demand he gets checked out in psych evaluation.

He is so deep in thought, running all possible scenarios in his head, that he doesn’t even notice when he arrives in the capital of his country. He feels as if he simultaneously passed through an eon and no time at all.

He directs his steps straight to his parents’ quarters, despite the late hour. Or early hour; depends on who you ask. It is an hour before dawn. So maybe early.

His thoughts are so frayed. Like a faulty circuit.

He marches in and finds his mother already awake and waiting, while his father only half-naps as he is awoken the moment he speaks.

“I might have made a mistake.”

“Well, this is exactly what we wanted to hear after your diplomatic mission,” his mother says with a half-worried half-amused smile.

“Oh, no, no, you know I prioritise the good of Piltover over anything else, it’s more of a…. an interpersonal mistake,” he clarifies as quickly as possible.

His father quirks a brow and gestures for him to go on.

“I might have agreed to a marriage proposal to get allies.”

Both his parents look at him wide-eyed at that.

“Please tell me this is a poorly timed joke?” his father tries and Jayce has to shake his head. “Well, I tried.”

“With whom?” his mother demands, already standing up to close the distance between them. “There aren’t many ladies your age among the people who were invited to the gala…”

“It’s, um, two people actually.” Or more like a million plus one, he doesn’t say.

His parents tilt their heads in a small but scarily synchronised movement.

“Whom,” his mother demands.

“The Head of Hivemind and the Queen of Noxus.”

They gape at him like fish taken out of a pond.

“Second chance to say it’s a joke,” his father says again, and Jayce shakes his head minutely. “Well fuck.”

Jayce makes a high pitched mhm sound in complete agreement.

“Well said, dear,” his mother says dryly and sighs. “I don’t know where to even begin—“ she stops, sighs again and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Alright, just— Just go nap for now. We’ll talk once the sun is up properly.”

Jayce knows an olive branch when he sees it, he ducks his head in agreement and a sign of respect and goes to his room.

His sheets feel too constricting for him as he lies in darkness. He kicks them off and stares through the window, where only the slightest sliver of the moon is visible, barely giving any illumination at all.

He has no clue what will happen now.