Chapter Text

*Knock-Knock*

“Mel dear, are you still in bed?”

Shit!

They jolted forward, Mel shoving Steb out of her bed and into the floor, his head popping up to glare at her, but sinking back down when she tossed a pillow at it. He wondered if he had time to run and hide in the bathroom, realized he'd never make it both quickly and quietly, so instead had the good enough sense to stay ducked where he was. Meanwhile, she hopped up to reform her suit and hurried across the room to answer the door.

“Addae! Good morning!” She feigned a yawn to mask her breathless haste, her loose, curly hair bouncing freely from the motion. “My, is it that time already? I was just taking a small rest is all. How can I help you?”

The woman lifted her brow.

“Uh huh… well, I brought you a tray since I missed you at breakfast. I brought one to Steb as well, but wouldn’t you know it... our valiant steward wasn’t in his room. How peculiar, hmm?”

“Oh, you know him,” she waved. “He could be any number of places… running through the garden maze, down in the South Tower for a swim… Oh! Have you checked the library perchance?”

“Noo…” she held the vowel, her smile spreading. “But I suppose I’ll go take a look around. In the meantime, I come bringing more than just breakfast. This letter arrived for him early this morning.” She held it out, Mel recognizing the insignia of the Enforcers and the Kiramman seal in an instant. Addae’s smile continued encroaching upward until she handed it off. “If you just so happen to see the boy before I do, then do you think you could make sure this gets to him?”

Frowning now, Mel nodded. “I will.”

“Good.”

Addae turned and started back down the steps, Mel shutting the door as Steb reappeared on his feet a moment later. She held the envelope out to him, the shared silence in their stares speaking volumes as they feared what might be contained in such a sobering reminder of reality. He never sent that letter to Caitlyn telling her about his short-lived injury, but she had sent one to them anyway, meaning one of two things. She was either checking on him, or she wanted him back home.

Steb tore it open as they read it together, a momentary glint of relief for the first few paragraphs since she did indeed seem to be checking on his status with the mission. Then they got further down the page, and Caitlyn started going into detail about an entirely new set of problems rising back home, all of them possibly related. Apparently Hextech gemstones were being discovered on the black market, and pirates were attacking their import ships to the east of the gates. She needed him back as soon as he could manage, needing to get officers she could trust on recon near the shores and perhaps even undercover down in Bilgewater for investigations.

And just like that, the bubble burst for each of them.

“Where could Hexgems have been stolen to turn up on the market of all places?” Mel wondered. “We were so thorough! When could they have slipped through?”

“Maybe more warmasons? Some from other nations? Bilgewater spies?”

“I don’t know…” She frowned. “Ugh! How could this have happened?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Bilgewater. Steb, you can’t go to Bilgewater…”

She knew just how much that particular port island affected him, and it wasn’t even the pirates, hunters, gangs and smugglers, nor the lawless murder and blatant debauchery that were the main problems about it.

“I might be one of the only officers who could blend in down there unnoticed.”

“That isn’t true and you know it.”

“No one else is the sheriff’s second in command. No one else has worked this closely with the gemstones. Who else can it be? Either me or Vi, and even if it’s her, we can’t send her out there on her own, she’s barely half a year on the job.”

She bit her lips together, and for several long moments, neither of them said anything, then Mel released a breath she’d been holding in that entire while.

“You have to go home.”

“I know.”

They shared a look, hearts aching.

“You have to go…” she repeated.

He wound his hands through her hair and pushed her head into a hug, chin pressing into her temple as he shut his eyes and echoed his reply.

“I know…”

They knew… they did… but gods if it didn’t feel like a small part of them was being suffocated.

Her nails dug through the back of his shirt before at last releasing, the certainty in her voice only making the words sound more painful to hear aloud, that awful pressure of the issue weighing in the air like lead.

“I’ll help you pack.”

Steb was heading towards the door with his bag not long after, eyes taking in a last view of the manor, something that had once been so intimidating, now bringing a fond nostalgia he’d come to miss in the days ahead.

Addae was practically arguing with them the entire way, wondering why the rush, what was wrong, and what had happened. Mel tried to explain as best she could without divulging anything too sensitive, but the steward was still rightly confused about the entire situation.

“Can’t he ship out in the morning? He can go with the soldiers, not the carrier ship, can’t he?”

“Not this time, Addae.” Mel turned to the staff by the door and sent them away. “We’re sorry for the urgency, but this is beyond us. He has work to handle back home.”

“Well…” she tossed out her hands, realizing there was nothing more to say. “I wish I could have sent you off with a bit more fanfare, boy, but I sure will miss having you around here. You really livened up the place, you know?”

His brows creased when he heard the small crack in her voice, somehow Addae seeming the most upset by his leaving all of the sudden. He set his bag to the floor and held out his hand for her.

“I’m glad to have met you, Addae. Thank you for your friendship and hospitality these last few weeks.”

Her face wrinkled slightly before she shooed his words out of the air with a scoff, taking his hand and yanking him down into a hug that she was hardly tall enough to enforce.

Steb let it happen, not knowing when or if he would ever see her again. While she’d pestered him practically since the moment he stepped through the doors, he’d admit, he would miss her just as much, and allowed his arms to squeeze just a bit tighter around her too.

Then she swatted him off of her, wiping at her eyes before any tears could form, fanning her face right after.

“Oh, must be the pollen from the fields, causing my allergies to act up. You go on and get out of here then! I’m just going to go make some tea to settle my throat.” As if the thought of not getting to offer him a cup, much less help with his own throat issues, unsettled Addae, her lip quivered one final time before she turned, her arms still waving frantically all the while. “Come back whenever. Rokrund is lovely in the Spring!” She sniffed. “Damned allergies though.”

The two watched her disappear around the opposing archway, Steb feeling bad in a new way he hadn’t been worried about three seconds prior.

“Will she be okay?”

“She’ll be fine.”

“You’ll have to apologize to Marlo for me. I hope he takes it a little better since I couldn’t say goodbye myself.”

“I can think up quite a few soldiers now who will be sad they couldn’t see you off, but I’ll handle it.”

He nodded, and she did so back, her composure cracking just as swiftly as her eyes traced his features, trying to settle on one, but unable to choose which.

He checked for any lingering eyes in the foyer before he leaned over and kissed her, feeling her hands come up to lock his wrists in place before they could leave from the sides of her face. He left them there, but eventually parted, his voice soft and hopeful that she’d help him be selfish at the request.

“If you say the word, I’ll stay longer…”

Unfortunately, they were both too responsible for such fanciful promises neither one of them could keep.

“How long is longer? You have a job, a life to return to. We both have responsibilities. It’s been too long as it is.”

She let him free, but he just squeezed her closer, trying to burn the scents in her loose hair into his mind. He knew he couldn’t stay here. Caitlyn needed him. Piltover needed him. Though the thought of dropping everything to remain in this manor were tempting, he couldn’t spend the rest of his life like this… and Noxus had no use for a single Enforcer who didn’t follow their ideals and laws. Not only that, but both parties relied on his stewardship to keep the commerce flowing and relations firm.

“Will you be alright?”

“Of course, Steb. This is my home.”

No, it’s not.

They both acknowledged the lie between them, staying there in front of the door for just a few moments more.

“I still have much to do here. To protect Piltover, to learn about myself... so many things to keep in check. Things that I must accomplish here. Tasks that we can only see through when we’re not together. It’s better this way.” She affirmed, eyes closed since she refused to let him see her shed a tear. “This is a good thing. The best thing, even. The only way this was ever going to work and we knew that going in.”

He held her face in his hands, eyes begging her not to let her last words to him be a lie.

“Look at me.”

Despite her better judgements, she did, and just as she feared, a single, small tear escaped out the corner of her eye. He wiped it away with his thumb, not allowing the rest of the world to see it. His eyes burned much the same, his nictitating membranes taking care of any lingering sadness he'd rather let fall, as time itself seemed to slow with their oncoming dismay.

“All you have to do is send for me. Diplomacy or anything else, I’ll come running. I’ll swim here if I have to. Alright?”

At that mental image, she snickered, patting his hands. “Yes, yes, you’re very cute…” With one more splay of fingers along his chest and she shoved him back with a gentle push towards the doors. “Now go. Get home. Set things in our city right and keep it safe for me, okay?”

He parted them open, letting in the afternoon light which felt cold despite the summer season, grabbing for his things and stepping through, Mel following until he stopped just on the other side.

He never expected it to be this hard to leave… His hand came up to stroke behind her ear, not to move any hair as hers was perfect just the way it was, as always, but just for the clear access it gave him to press his fingers into tilting her gaze up towards him. “Is this how you felt when you boarded that boat?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“I—”

“Shh…” Her eyes lingered on him for what felt like an eternity, so many things unsaid, but she broke away and shook her head, forcing a smile as she gestured back towards the distant beach. “You need to go, Steb. You’ll be late. I can’t have the soldiers learning about the—”

“I know.”

He held her hand, letting them drop before turning to look towards the sea as well; that boat off in the distance beckoning him with impending dread.

Mel watched him from behind, that view of his back taunting her as she knew she had to let him go. But—

When he turned back, she surprised him with a kiss, once, then twice, really pulling him into the third one, locking their fingers, yanking him back to her and knocking him against the front pillar, pressing into him to the point it started to hurt but neither one of them cared. Only after, did she finally let him free and step away.

“Mel…”

He knew why she did it, but gods if it didn’t just make it even harder to leave.

“Come now, we’ll see one another again. You are our ambassador now. A steward! Be sure Caitlyn offers you a pay raise for the new title. Better yet, I’ll write to her and let her know.”

He chuckled, the sound growing dull as time worked against them.

This was sort of like how her mother and father’s marriage had looked. It was distant, but good, full of trust and there was love there. They truly did love each other... didn’t have any bad blood between them at the very least. He was such a strong man, not in the warrior’s sense, but in managing to handle all the force that was General Ambessa Medarda. Mel absolutely did not wish to think too hard on the implications of that, but as a girl, she’d seen their relationship firsthand. Mother could be gone for months and he would be upset but accepting and when they reunited, they always made up for lost time. She wondered now if Steb might like to entertain something of the same, even if they were far, far from such a heavy discussion.

Unable to hear her thoughts, he gestured his chin towards the beach.

“Walk with me?”

If Steb could make a pitiable expression, this was it, but she conceded.

“Okay.”

The public watching them now, they swapped back to a more professional distance all the way to the docks, the smaller ship alerted ahead of time to his boarding and paid for by one of Mel’s soldiers. Even though it was much further than either of them wished to be, the mere fact they had these last few minutes at all was sweet relief, even if it was simply walking together in silence. They passed the arena, the bakery, and the rundown old theater, Steb surprised by how much of this town he'd come to know in such a short time. Now he knew where to turn to find the Naap farmers, which crack in the rocks hid the Medarda Cove from the world, and which roads let out of town to the black powder caves on the way to the Varju Mountains.

He still felt like a stranger, of course, but somehow a little less so. Even the townsfolk along their way by were more open with their greetings, praising Mel for her Champion in the Fleshing, and some surprisingly acknowledging him as a steward. They wondered which soldier let those stories slip at the local pubs, sharing a glance about it, but neither minding the positive feedback for once.

When they finally reached the docks, only then did the reality come crashing in again as they approached the proper boat and its crewman.

“Ah! You must be the steward! We’re setting off, sir. If you’re coming along, you best board now.” He tipped his hat. “Matriarch.”

They each acknowledged the sailor and turned for their final farewell.

“Keep in touch, won’t you? I wish to know more about the situations in Piltover. You can always write to me anytime.”

“I promise—” He took her hand and lifted it slowly, his blue eyes never leaving hers as he placed a final kiss to the back of her hand. “Matriarch.”

She fought back the laugh, annoyance spreading over her face instead, but with so many eyes on them, she had to swallow it down and let it slide. He’d won that round; she’d simply have to find a way to pay him back for it next time.

Gods… next time could not get here soon enough.

He released her hand, feeling a cold chill overtake his entire being as he turned to board the boat. The first step was hard, the second nearly impossible, but he continued walking across the platform until the railing was pulled away behind him, and a generous gap of water separated the two, a small taste of the vast sea to come.

She waved, fingers drooping slightly, stuck in place as the ship started to move away.

He watched her even after they were past the blockade of Medarda warships, until she was just a small speck on the beach. His hands gripped the railing over the side as he had to force himself let her go, to be forced far away by this ship and his duties; their dreamlike pause in time nothing more than a sweet memory and some of the happiest moments in his life, but he needed to take the cold, icy plunge back into reality. Even now, the new absence ached every inch of his bones, and he turned to walk below deck as soon as Rokrund’s distant haze was lost from sight.

The cargo ship had one stop between Rokrund and Piltover, so his five-day journey was actually set back to six. The entire ride was completely uneventful, no soldiers to swap stories with, no surprise relatives to meet, and no perilous prisoners to transport. Each night he did decide to wander out of his rented cabin and look out at the stars, unsure of where the reflection in the water started and the sea above ended. It was beautiful, just as Mel had warned beside that camfire. Those days and nights alone had never bothered him before, but they were inherently more noticeable to him now, longing for another conversation with her and to show her this wonderful view.

He was more than happy to be off the boat and back to civilization when they finally docked in Piltover again. Steb walked through the familiar city, knowing every mark on it was just the same as when he’d left it, but there was a different feel to the air, like something had changed regardless. For starters, the world seemed so much larger suddenly than just their joint cities. As vast as it had become, and as small as everything was now, he could not deny that it also felt quite a bit emptier, hollow even.

He stopped at his apartment first to shower and change back into his uniform. Even his home smelled different after so long away, everything falling into perfect memory but with that same empty strangeness as everything else in town. He did start chuckling to himself though, thinking back to the fact that Mel probably had closets back in Rokrund that were bigger than his entire flat. He shook the thought of her away just as swiftly, needing to focus on work not his own selfish emotions. As he locked the door behind him, Steb realized he wouldn’t even be able to fool himself with that one and let out a breath.

Gods, this was going to suck.

By the time he stepped through the station, a swarm of officers were drawn to him like moths to a flame.

“Officer Steb!”

“You’re back!”

“You’re not dead!”

“Oh my gosh! How was it?”

“Was it terrible!?”

He wasn’t used to this much attention, especially not at work, but it made sense. The Undersheriff went on a mission to Noxus for nearly a month without a lot of news after. Rumors were probably flying every which direction all across the station the moment he sailed out of Stillwater.

“Alright, everyone!” Caitlyn called from her office doorway. “Let the poor man breathe. We’re all happy to have him back, but I need his debriefing before letting him loose on the rest of you.”

Dismayed, they all grumbled away, dispersing quickly as Steb let out a breath and started for her door.

“Steb, you’re really back!” Vi was already inside; first to rush over to him, the man not sure if he was about to get hit or hugged, but pleasantly surprised when it turned out to be a hug; one that crushed his ribcage as she picked him up and shook him around a little before letting him go. “Wow? Did you get a tan? I didn’t know you guys could do that?”

He looked over his arms, wondering the same, but if something was darker, he couldn’t tell it himself.

“Welcome back, Officer,” Caitlyn smiled, shutting her door before dipping forward to hug him just the same. “We were starting to get worried when we didn’t hear from you. I take it all goes well with our friends overseas?”

“No war on the horizon we ought to know about?”

He rolled his eyes but grinned in response. “No, our alliance is secured.”

“D-did you just roll your eyes?” Caitlyn squinted, smirking a bit in a chastising way.

Oh right, he’d need to get used to keeping that to himself again.

“Steb, Steb, Steb...” Vi clicked her tongue. “What did you get up to in Noxus? You seem— I don’t know?” She gestured him out to Caitlyn so she could help her decide on a term. “Not so uptight all of the sudden? Is it just me, Cait?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he admitted dryly, remaining stone-faced, though the two women clocked the lie in his face instantly when his damned scales waved in betrayal. He pretended not to notice.

“Your voice sounds a little different. A bit stronger?” Caitlyn mused. “Find a bit of confidence tucked away in Noxus, did you?”

“Just practice.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Although—” she stepped around her desk to pull out an envelope with Mel’s crest broken along the back. “We received this response from Miss Medarda just yesterday, the letter somehow making it back before you.”

Because it hadn’t gotten stuck on a side quest to Kumangra. Steb thought. Still, his ears perked at the sight of it, wondering what Mel might’ve written, whatever it was no doubt something she'd composed right after he’d left her shores.

“Mel says you’ve been granted stewardship among the Noxian government, and this means her mansion here in Piltover, alongside her House accolades and a small portion of funds now belong to you alone.”

His eyes shot wide, knees forgetting how to keep his body standing upright as he started to tilt the wrong direction. Vi came up to make sure he didn’t faint, both she and the sheriff losing their momentary jocose attitudes towards their tag-team interrogation due to the sight of his unmistakable shock.

“You didn’t know?”

He’d almost completely forgotten how to speak. “I thought it was ceremonious…”

“Well, sounds to me like you’ve basically been adopted into Clan Medarda.”

Now he did forget all of his words, reaching back for any seat he could find before stumbling into it.

Mel’s manor? She was giving him her literal mansion? He couldn’t even refuse it, couldn’t argue just how completely over the top such a gift would be. Had she really— Wait. She had done it on purpose, hadn’t she? Knowing he’d be stuck with it, thinking about her every time he opened the door! He could see the grin on her face in his mind. She'd done it to mess with him, and there was nothing he could do about it until he saw her again.

Vi and Caitlyn had probably thought they’d have to call in another medic to fix the one before them who’d been broken by such a stunning revelation. The two of them actually flinching back in shock when he started laughing, the sound growing much louder and heartier than either had ever heard from him; his smile spreading even to the point it hurt the gills along his jaw, but he just threw a hand over his face, shaking his head to laugh some more.

“Steb’s laughing…” Vi muttered. “Has Steb ever laughed before? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him laugh before.”

She shook her head with a shrug, their eyes wide with concern as she leaned forward. “Steb, are you going to be alright?”

Calming, he thumbed the tears out of his eyes and nodded, breathing heavily for a few moments more until he stood and cleared his throat to return to the same composed expression they were more used to seeing.

“I’m fine, Sheriff. Sorry about that. I’ll have to thank Mel for her generosity later. For now, I’d rather focus on the larger issues at hand.” He walked past them, gesturing to her pin board for the shipping manifests halted in the east.

She mouthed the word to Vi behind his back (Mel?). Steb had never called the councilwoman by her first name before. Her partner merely shrugged, both of them hiding the unspoken curiosities again before he turned back around.

“So, how can I help keep our city safe?”

Caitlyn blinked, but didn't hesitate long, following his lead to brief him on what was going on and why she'd called him back in the first place.

“Well, alright... if you insist, Steb. As we're all aware, ever since we lost the Hexgates, goods and services have returned to their prior shipping methods, mainly by airship or boat. Lately though, many of our trade ships have been getting hijacked by pirates just outside our borders. Their largest base of operations is a series of islands to the east. They’re cutting our transports off at the pass, here.”

She gestured to the area on the map, more markers present to reveal just how many altercations their shipping routes have made with these unknown adversaries already, and his eyes widened a bit at the number shown. All of them in just a few short weeks too!

“I was thinking of putting together another team to investigate the attacks and see if we can't determine clues as to who exactly is pilfering our imports and exports, so that we can finally put a stop to them. Though… it would involve a bit of travel and extended leave from the city. I suspect with your new accolades, we might even manage safe travel through Trannit, and if we can convince Mudtown of the same, we can establish ports for added security along the gulf.”

“The real kicker is what's going down in the black market dens further out.”

“In Bilgewater?” He blinked.

“Yes, that’s where I believe our goods are being sold. We find the seller... We find the culprits.” She walked over to the wall and removed something from her evidence board and slapped it down at the center of her desk for all of them to see. “That’s also where I believe we’ll find the owner of this calling card.”

They looked down at the symbol stained in saltwater and a few drops of blood, it was a brackish rectangle with the symbol of a serpent wrapped around a sword. No other words could be made out due to the poor condition of the formerly water-logged parchment, but it was at least identifiable enough to start a search with.

He sighed and offered her a nod, one brow lifting as he focused on the assignment itself, and the adventure it no doubt promised.

“What kind of team?”

EPILOGUE:

Three years passed by in the blink of an eye. In all that time, Mel had successfully forged her name into something that had become far more respecting across all of Noxus, her attempts to intertwine her efforts into most political matters becoming a common enough occurrence that most everybody in the empire knew she had her hands busy with something or other involving their own efforts and tried to keep on her good side because of it.

She’d moved to a more permanent place in the Immortal Bastion after her first year, taking up residence with her remaining family in order to be nearest all of the action. She still took time off every once and a while to visit Addae in Rokrund, a trip planned later in the week in fact, but for the bulk of her time, she remained a very present public figure head at the capital.

To her dismay, Urgot had yet to be slain, but after the first few months, she decided to turn his curse to her advantage, using her daring champion down in the Reckoner’s Pits as an excuse to invite other House leaders to the Medarda box, the matches guised to turn into meetings which might align her interests with potential allies in higher places. Some of them liked Piltovan imports, some had been allies before her mother cut ties with them, and some she just learned how to mold as easily as any other project she set her sights on. In the end, Noxus was different than Piltover, but when it came to people, she flourished as a fox all the same. She still knew how to get more power where she could, and Urgot helped quell whispers of her oppositions towards violence, masking the people's doubts with the famed and trusted scenes of his combat. All other threats were quick to know her as a wolf as well, though none had provoked her so callously since the first Fleshing and all the dark business with mages.

In all that time, the Black Rose had not bothered to mess with her once, though she could forever feel their eyes trained on her, waiting to see if she stepped a bit too far in a direction they didn’t like. They must have been pleased with her gains, her growths as a politician, matriarch, and a mage. It was a hollow comfort, though appreciated as well as any pricking thorn in her side could be.

She still hadn’t learned who orchestrated her loss in Bel’zhun, but without them constantly opposing her in the present, she’d been able to make real progress around here in all other matters aside her anger towards them. Now she was winding her own webs, and the little pieces were slowly coming into place where she wanted them to make a more profitable and peaceful Noxus. She just had to keep staying her course.

Patience… if there was one thing she had plenty to spare, it was patience.

The week flew by and it seemed just as she’d secured the steward of Drakengate to her ideas for a makeup line utilizing their mudpacks and nacre powders to appeal to the fashion industries across the continent, she was next stepping off of her private airship back into Rokrund. This time though, the massive vessel belonged to her, not her uncle, and it was going to remain to take her home at the end of the week. No more trekking across Noxus on foot unless she absolutely had to, and for now, she hadn’t had to.

“Mel!” Addae hugged her tight. “You look thin, child! Are you eating properly up in the capital?”

“Yes, Addae,” she grinned wearily. “How goes Rokrund while I’ve been away?”

“Boring as ever.”

“Don't you mean, quaint?”

“Oh, you!” she teased, swiping out her hand as it turned to a rocking finger. “Though things have been picking up this week, I'll admit. You somehow managed to get everyone excited for the grand opening of the new theater tonight.”

“I hope the play inspires a few hesitant thespians to come forward and rekindle a bit of Noxian spirit in the arts this far south.”

“You never know?” the old woman shrugged, jabbing her surprisingly sharp elbow into Mel’s side as a knowing grin spread across her face. “And is our other steward all set for arrival?”

“He’s supposed to be accompanying the Piltover troupe here on an airship as we speak. I bet he’s hating every moment of it.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I find even unpleasant things can pass quickly with the right incentive waiting at the end of the tunnel. It has been three years, after all.”

Mel lifted her brow and Addae said nothing more, her face revealing it all plainly enough.

“So then, shall we get ready then dear and go get the place opened up for the show?”

“Are you gracing us with a rarity of a gown this evening? That’s unlike you. I’m sure Steb will be most flattered.”

“Oh hush! An old gal can dress up every once and a while! It’s not a big deal.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Well then, no time to waste. I'll meet you back in the foyer?”

“Deal.”

The women split to get ready in their rooms, Mel working her normal routine of a bath, followed by hair, makeup, and a gown picked especially for the occasion. Tonight, she thought she might bring back a classic, something the theater group would recognize and feel a bit more at ease by since this was their very first overseas performance along Noxian territory.

Mel paused to admire the white silken gown, her bodysuit top lined along the brim and bottom in gold that acted as a neckpiece, but left her bare arms exposed, connected only by the rings on each finger, hooking access silk below her arms like canopy wings. Her makeup was a throwback to the dark reds and purples she used to gravitate towards for elegance; her earrings though, large, mandorla hoops that trailed down the length of her neck, with a simple headband crown in place to signify her status. Her hair was now braided back along her scalp before revealing a bun of loose-fitting curls, a simple style that could be easily let down at her discretion.

“Well, don't you look lovely?” Addae teased.

She was sporting a black gown, velvet in texture with long arms that hooked over her middle finger and hung straight and simple down to her ankles, a bit of gold and silver embroidery livening up the outer edges.

“As do you. When's the last time you broke that gown out of your armoire?”

“Your parent's wedding I think? Still fits like a glove though, doesn't it?” She let loose a few spunky laughs before clapping her hands. “I still got it!”

“Indeed,” Mel held out her arm. “Well then, shall we go?”

Addae took it and together, they made their way out of the stronghold and into town.

Alright. Showtime.

By the time they entered the theater, Mel was giving instructions to the building staff, Addae choosing to nap in their viewing box until the doors opened and their guests from Piltover arrived. Probably 45 minutes of orders and cleaning later, but in they all came, the large group of familiar faces accompanied by a few of her soldiers, and by—

“Steb!” Her smile went wide, seeing his teal skin standing out vividly from across the theater. “You’re right on time!”

He said little, hurrying up the steps to the stage before he stopped beside her, his eyes very casually taking her in before he removed his hat and bowed, one hand outstretched for hers to which she complied.

“Miss Medarda.” He kissed her knuckles, Mel watching those sneaky scales beneath each eye give way to his true intentions. “It’s an honor to see you again.”

“The honor is mine, Steward.” She waited until he stood again before turning to address the troupe. “And Peggy, Ernest, Adolfo! It’s been far too long!”

“Miss Medarda!” Adolfo greeted. “Piltover hasn’t been the same since you left! You’re looking well, though!”

“Oh, I’ve been keeping tabs on you well enough,” she grinned. “From what I hear, Piltover is fairing just fine, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same.”

“We’re eager to see how our performances compare within your hometown, ma'am.”

“It’s been ages since I’ve been able to enjoy a good show. I’m looking forward to it.”

“To your places people!” Peggy clapped. “We only have two hours to set up and familiarize ourselves with the stage!”

“Hopefully you’ll find the similarities close enough. I tried to match certain specifications where I could.”

“Well, we all know you knew your way around the nooks and crannies backstage at home.”

At the unexpected but familiar voice, Mel couldn’t help but blink back her surprise. “Lest?”

The tall, feline woman knelt down to hug her, still just as fashionable as the last she’d seen her all those years before.

“Lest! It’s so nice to see you. Have you joined the players?”

“Oh, you know I hate to be the focal point on the stage, far too many whispers, too much headache.” She winked. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t dress the rest of the cast behind the scenes.”

“I’m happy for you! Glad to see you putting your sense of fashion to good use. I should introduce you to my young cousin, Velona— Oh, I say young, but she’s practically her own woman now. Fancies herself quite the couturier up in the capital.”

“If she’s anything like you, I’m sure her tastes are impeccable and she’ll give me a run for my money. I'm glad we're working different continents.”

They shared a laugh just as someone else called to her from behind the stage.

“Lest! Where is my tabard for act three?”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to yell!” She yelled back, leaning down to Mel with another wink. “I have to handle this. They’d be lost without me.”

“We’ll catch up later then?”

“Bet on that!” she grinned, eying Steb with a bit of interest before going to help backstage.

With that, he held out his hand, that low voice of his saved for this moment as he offered her a smirk. “Would you care to give me a tour of the place while they get settled here?”

“I’d love to, but first, there’s someone who has been dying to see you again, and she’s waiting for you up in the viewing box.”

He lifted a brow, following as she led him out into the lobby and then up the private staircase leading to the balconies.

“Prepare yourself now.”

She opened the door and Steb’s instincts barely had time to kick in before the old steward of Rokrund was tackling him in a tight squeeze that could put a sea monster’s grip to shame.

“Steb!”

“Addae!” He croaked, waiting for the surprisingly strong arms to release him before reaching for her hand to kiss it as well. “You look lovely this evening. It’s great to see you again.”

“Oh stop! You flatter me!” She fanned her hand, flicking it a few times absentmindedly towards Mel. “But what about Mel, hmm? She dressed up just for you, you know?”

“Addae!” Mel glared, knowing well that the truth was actually the other way around. Well… mostly.

Steb assumed as much too, chuckling as the steward shoved her out in front of them.

“She’s only grown lovelier since you last saw her, hasn’t she?”

He placed both hands behind his back but bowed his head. “If such were ever possible.”

Mel's smile spread.

“Oh, it’s going to be so nice having so many people over! Steb included, Agh! I’ve been planning the entire week out since I heard the news. All the rooms are prepped. You’re going to love the new—” Addae’s voice drifted off when she realized the two were still locked into one another’s eyes, neither one of them listening to a single word she was saying. “You know, I was also thinking about taking a blowtorch to the garden and replacing all the books with bricks?”

“That sounds lovely.”

“I agree.”

She rolled her eyes, a devious look flashing across her mind as she clapped loudly and started for the door. “Well, wouldn’t you know it? I seem to have left my binoculars back at the manor. I should just run back and get them…”

They still hadn’t budged until she touched the handle and only then did Mel turn her head, blinking back to reality.

“W-Wait a moment! Where are you off to, Addae?”

She shooed her hand. “I’ll be right back, I just left something at the estate is all. You two just keep doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

“No, Addae, you don’t need to be walking all the way there and back. What is it you’ve forgotten? I can have someone fetch it for you.”

“Oh no, you know I don’t like the soldiers going through my things. I should just go and look for it myself. I'm seventy-two years old, I think I can handle it!”

“Can I help?” Steb volunteered.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to trouble you, dear. Besides, you might not be able to find it on your own.”

“What if I accompanied him? Then would you agree to remain here and stay put?”

“Hmm…” she pondered on the offer. “I suppose that would be alright. I’m looking for my old spectating binoculars. The ones I take with me to the arena. Do you think the two of you can grab them off the end table in my room?”

“Of course, Addae. You wait right here; we’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I’ll oversee things here until then. You two can count on me.”

They nodded and walked out the door, ignorant to the old woman snickering as they left the theater and started up the hill towards the manor.

Walking side by side, they each kept their hands folded behind their backs, the silent stepping their only company until the light noises of the crowd winding down for the evening blended alongside the nightlife of the pubs and bars along the strip doing the exact opposite, and only after the noise settled in, did either one of them feel emboldened enough to speak up.

“It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

He nodded, resisting the urge to bite his lip, but reminding himself that it had been three years now. Despite her letters, a lot could change in that amount of time.

“How have you been?” he asked, masking his nerves.

“Well,” she nodded, hands spreading down the wrinkles on her gown. “I’ve been well. Busy!”

“Same. Busy… too…”

“I enjoyed your letters. Even if I haven’t checked in for a moment.”

“Anything new that I should know about?”

“A few political allies. Urgot is still a champion. Draven is still his typical self. Belaunde has a fiancé now, so I don’t have to worry about the latter. Oh! The soldiers are all happy and accounted for. Marlo’s healing lessons are going well so that he might become a combat medic like his dear friend. You made quite the impression on him.”

He breathed out a smile as she walked into his arm to nudge him.

“And you?” She asked. “Anything to report?”

“We umm… managed to bust that smuggling operation a while back?”

“The one near Mudtown?”

He shook his head. “No. New one. In Trannit.”

“That’s one of Noxus’ cities. Did you confront the steward? You’re allowed to do that, you know, I thought my letter was very clear on the rules of your—”

“We did.” He interrupted with a grin. “Managed to get everything fixed in a weekend. Your accolades helped.”

“You earned those titles all on your own. Our commerce has never run so smoothly. You’re quite the industrialist. Another talent to add to that ever-growing list of yours.”

“No, no, I still let the trade guild handle the heavy lifting, but I keep an eye on them a bit better than Marcus did. No more secret manifests or smuggling going on.”

“A low bar…” she hummed, a different thought coming to take its place. “I do hope his daughter is doing well though.”

“She is. Still in school… Caitlyn checks in often. She wants to be an Enforcer. Looks up to her a lot.”

“Oh, well that’s nice…”

“Yes.”

Their small talk faded as they passed through the front gates, offering nods to the guards there, then once more to the ones at the door.

“Matriarch.” They greeted. “Steward.”

Not once since he set foot back in Rokrund had he ben called “foreigner” only ever “steward”. People still stared, of course, but at least half of them were looking now because of an entirely different reason these days.

Once through the main doors, Steb thought it was surprising that not a thing was out of place from the first time he’d walked in, all of the artifacts still hanging as they were, the historic furniture just as patient and eye-catching as ever. Then he remembered that not everything was quite so old, knowing well that there was a pretty chancy painting of him hidden somewhere in this manor that only Mel could see. One of her many earlier letters had challenged he try and find it the next time he was here. He’d be lying if the thought wasn’t still on his mind, worried if someone from the theater troupe stumbled upon it before he did.

“So, is the manor still holding up to your liking?” She shot him a coy glance. “I know you had quite a bit to say about that in your first letter. I still wish I could have been there in person to see the look on your face.”

He teased a glare in response. “It’s big. Kind of empty. A lot of your things are still there, you know?”

“Oh, I do. Why else would I keep my favorite Enforcer there to make sure nobody dares rob the place left abandoned while I’m away?”

“Ah, so I’m free labor then. How convenient for you.”

“Oh, I don’t know about free. I hear the new steward is well compensated for his efforts.”

“And is the matriarch ever planning to return to this manor one day to make sure he’s not burned her home to the ground?”

She frowned, tilted her head to the side in consideration before feigning a much softer smile. “Perhaps someday she can? She’d like to.”

“Well, she is always welcome.”

“I’ll be sure to pass along the message. I’m sure her company would be far more appreciated than the investors he’s no doubt been forced to entertain.”

Steb made a series of very confirmative head nods until she laughed, both of them shaking their heads as they stepped up the winding staircase in the east wing, entering Addae’s room before Mel began digging around for the viewing glasses.

He’d never actually come up here in his last visit, but Steb was surprised to find it far more modest and normal than he anticipated, deciding to wait a few moments by the door before he realized Mel was looking a bit too fervently for the item in question to have been where Addae instructed.

“Need any help?”

“Well, if you happen to see them someplace?” Mel grumbled. “I hope she didn’t leave them at the Reckoner’s Pit.”

Steb lifted a few pillows, peering over bookcases and into a couple of drawers with no luck. He held up his hand, mimicking the overall size and shape of what he was imagining. Opera glasses, more or less.

She nodded. “Yes, you’ve got the right idea. Oh, I’m not sure she remembers where she left them. I have a spare set in my room as decoration for my shelves. Maybe if we polish those off a little, she won’t notice. Think so?”

He shook his head fervently. Absolutely not. The old woman could spot a drop of blood on a red carpet. She’d definitely know that they were switched out.

“Well, she may just have to settle for them. I’d rather not spend all night up here snooping around. Who knows what we might accidentally stumble into, and I’m fairly certain some of these drawers are rigged with traps.”

Steb immediately stole his hand back and gestured them towards the door.

“In that case— Just to be safe about it…”

Smirking, she strode past him and the two trekked to the other end of the house, each one a little quieter, unsure of what to say. For a moment, there was an apprehension growing. Other than that hug, their talks had been mostly business and pleasantries, but nothing quite hinting one way or the other that the other had (or hopefully hadn’t) moved on from the series of strong feeling shared the last time they were alone together in this building.

When they were in her room, they started for her shelves, the glasses in sight, but Mel stopped suddenly and turned back, fists grappling onto his uniform, the action quick to rectify those worries as soon as they were safely tucked away behind closed doors.

“With Lest here, I might not get another chance to ask it, Steb, but… is this still okay?”

His frills danced in response, the man wasting no time leaning forward to press her into a kiss three long years on his mind, the weight forcing her back a step before she reciprocated with pressure of her own.

“I wasn’t sure if there might’ve been—” He trailed off at the thoughts. “If you’d decided on someone—”

“I’ve been too preoccupied to worry about that. You either?”

He shook his head and scratched a bit nervously behind his ear as it wiggled in place. “The thought never once occurred to me. I’ve been... waiting.”

She chuckled, grazing her hands up his face before spreading fingers into his hair and holding them there. “It’s a shame, I had this entire speech prepared to ever-so-discretely lead you up here. With the entirety of the Piltover's acting guild staying with us... now I fear I won’t get to use any of it on you.”

He smiled, tilting into her jaw, able to feel her warmth and smell the light traces of perfume on her neck, wishing it weren’t currently blocked by her dress.

“Well, what would you have said?”

She shoved him back and cleared her throat, hands shifting to indicate her performance was starting. “Would you care to see what I’ve added to my paint supplies, Officer? My latest work is certainly one of my bests.”

Grabbing her hand, he shot her a look before giving her a twirl and releasing, pretending as well that they were back downstairs in front of the listening ears of her servants.

“Of course, my lady. By all means, lead the way.”

She grinned, closing in on him. “Then I would lead you to this bedroom…” 

He would have followed. Steb had no intentions of sleeping down in the guest room.

“I can’t help but notice a lack of new paintings…”

She placed a finger to her lips, hushing him not to interrupt, and he raised his hands in mock-surrender.

“Where was I? Okay… then, I might ask you something important. So, how has the black-market situation been going since Hextech began leaking out?”

As she asked, she began unfastening the latches on his uniform blazer, causing his mind to momentarily blank.

“As well as you might expect,” he finally answered, unsure suddenly if it was still considered a play response or the real one. It was what he would’ve said, anyway… so it was kind of confusing. “Caitlyn and Vi have been cracking down on it as best they can. Camille Ferros has taken to forming her own strike team to assist with smaller incidents around town, and the clash between her and the Enforcers go about as well as you might imagine.”

He lifted the golden headband gently out of her hair, setting it to the end table as he stopped to place his hat alongside it, slow hands sliding the rings from her fingers before letting them drop, smoothing the draped wings down to her sides. She pulled him to the bed by his belt, spinning him around and flicking him to the mattress with a shove of her fingers before slipping it off of him like a whip and dropping it into the floor.

Despite their eyes already imagining the moments that lay ahead, each one happy to pick up right where they had left off, her voice was surprisingly stuck in the present, answering his previous statement with an unappealing response.

“I’m surprised Camille would take a page out of Caitlyn’s book after you wrote to tell me how avidly she opposes House Kiramman these days.”

He merely shrugged.

“Well, you’ll figure it out, I’m sure.”

“And the Rose?” He frowned, regretting bringing them up at a time like this, but they had so many things to discuss that couldn’t make it into their letters, and now, so little time to do both. He steeled his resolve and continued, glad her hands never stopped focusing on their simultaneous project of unlocking the straps on his boots. “Have you had any trouble since—”

“Not since that night. I believe their attentions must be pulled elsewhere for now. I’m not sure yet whether that’s a good sign or a bad one, but I must be doing something right for them to have left me alone all this time.”

“Mel, I—”

“Shh…” She placed her hands on his thighs, slipping the pants lower, and the boots off alongside them, her eyes trailing up his chest before locking onto his. “Around this time, I would probably suggest that we’re splitting our attentions too thin. Here, now, I feel that we’ve definitely done enough talking. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He grinned, face flushing as those sweet frills danced for her amusement in reply.

“Who’s talking?”

He ran his hands up her waist and pulled her forward, thumbs locking into the crests on her hips before lying all the way on his back, Mel settling between his legs, before she stopped.

“Mmm… Well, you’ll have to give me a good reason to pause our meeting. After all, it is the reason you sailed here. Could it be the great steward of Piltover has ulterior motives?”

“Blatantly ulterior, Matriarch.”

He pulled the undershirt over his head, his eyes watching the trail of magic dissolving along her bodysuit, fading until nothing was left to cover her, the silk slipping down to the floor in sultry response.

“It really was a lovely dress.”

“Addae isn’t the only one who dressed to impress tonight, she hadn't lied about that.”

Then Mel pulled the pin out of her hair to let it fall. He always had liked it when it was loose, and as she’d hoped his face started burning peach at the sight, going fully red when she crawled up to straddle his hips seconds after.

Her cheeks flushed as well following the stripes down his torso before pausing to point to a huge, healed-over scar that was draped across his chest; her hands slamming down around it suddenly, while her brows shot high.

“Hang on! Where did this come from?”

He made a face, momentarily forgetting that was there at all.

“Long story… but I’m fine.”

She placed a kiss against it, tenderly trailing the entire length before returning to see love drunk eyes watching her every move, the tips of his ears swaying gratefully.

“You’ll have to tell it to me so I can get properly mad at you, but… tomorrow.”

“I might have a few more that would appreciate that same attention?”

“Not funny.”

“I think you like it,” he accused, no doubt feeling the arousal screaming through her skin.

“As attractive as your scar is, tough guy. I’d hate for my favorite muse to stop matching his portrait.”

“Which is—?”

“You’ll never find it!” she smiled, tapping her finger back to the scar. “I think we ought to test our luck for healing this down in the South Tower. What do you think?”

His brows furrowed, pausing the game between them as his voice got that serious “killjoy” vibe to it. “That doesn’t sound like an emergency, Mel.”

It took way too much energy out of her, and that last instance had been a far fresher wound.

“Oh, you could argue about anything…” she shot him a warning look, amused though the irritation there was very real. “But it would be good to know the extent of our combination against wounds, wouldn’t it? Are you saying you don’t wish to come spend a little time with me down the baths during this visit?”

Half his mind was already down there, visiting the euphoric memories that had played on repeat these three long years. As her fingers toyed with the rest of him in real time, his face suddenly contorted at the thought of any time at all passing right now, but worrying about getting too distracted all the same.

“H-how long until the play?”

“Long enough for this… not for that.” She raked her nails down his skin and his entire body began to shudder. “Let’s just enjoy the moment?”

He nodded at the suggestion quicker than he’d ever nodded in his life. The weight of her pressed into his lap but not moving aside to speak was causing the sweet torture of thirst to spread, that soreness worse than any his throat had ever felt, and it had been plaguing him damn near constantly for years, not enough water on all of Runeterra to quench without her near.

“Good.” Mel chuckled, her voice dipping low and seductively before breathing the rest into his gills. “Now, tell me… Did you ever think of me? Of our time together? Ever picture me late at night while sleeping in my old bed?”

“Yes…” he breathed.

“I’ve thought about you… All the things I regretted never getting to try with you… I’ve been saving them all, waiting for the next time we were alone together…”

Have mercy, Mel Medarda… Gods help him, he was already about to keel over!

“Shall we pick up our tests where they left off then?” she asked.

“If that’s what you wish, ma’am.”

She leaned forward with a smile, breathing the word against lips that moved in hopes of something else.

“Mel…” she warned.

“Mel.” Steb grinned back, hand coming up to cradle the side of her face before leading her down into a kiss, and then another one after that.

They were back in the theater noticeably longer than "a few" minutes later, the play about to begin in fact, and had she not been Mel Medarda, there was a chance the theater manager would not have let them inside so close to call.

When they entered through the door to her viewing box, both made extra sure not to let anything slip to the observant old woman, the two of them freezing in place when they saw her in her seat, her binoculars in hand already gazing down as the rows of seats filled in down below.

“You did a great job, Mel, I think it’s going to be a full house tonight. Oh, look! Aloysius is here too! He always was a bit of a secret theater lover, you know?”

“Addae!” She stomped. “What exactly are those?”

She looked to where Mel gestured, feigning surprise to see the glasses held in her hands. “As I live and breathe, I’ve found them!”

Mel pinched the skin between her eyes, Steb’s face impassive, though amused to any who could tell it on him.

“I do hope you were able to find something else useful tonight, kids. Hopefully not in my room, though right?”

They each turned red.

“If you’re insinuating—”

“Would never dream of it, dear!” She peered back out as the lights dimmed and the curtain began to quake with promised movement. “Well, what are you two waiting on? Sit! The show’s about to begin!”

Rolling their eyes in unison, the two snuck a grin back at the other and did as they were told, Mel using the goggles from her room instead as the Piltover players prepared their very first act on their tour between Rokrund and home.

“Psst! By the way, how’d you like the peak at my room, Steb?” the old woman teased. “I’ll have to give you a more thorough tour of the place, won’t I?”

He opened his mouth to respond, realized he couldn’t, and just gave her a thumbs up while simultaneously shaking his head to reject the implications.

Addae clocked it and lifted her brow in an instant. “The silent treatment already? Usually, I’m able to get a few good rises out of you before that.”

“We talked a bit too much on the way,” Mel insisted, lying but only just slightly. All the best lies were wrapped in truths, after all. “I'm afraid he’s thrown out his voice for the night.”

Oh, he’d thrown out his voice, alright, but it hadn’t been on any coherent words shared for the last several minutes, she saw to that much personally.

Addae, if she could tell, for once said nothing, turning her attention back to the stage as the curtain rose and the performance was officially underway.

It was around the first scene when Mel decided to poke a finger against his leg, Steb’s scales reacting long before his eyes could see her holding her pinky out to him, quietly inviting the man to hold her hand in the most noncommittal way possible. He didn’t need to be told twice, taking it and feeling the world get a bit lighter as soon as he was allowed to touch her again, and they stayed that way for the entire remainder of the performance.

To everyone’s delight, the evening was a rousing success, prompting more events to follow, and even more opportunities for Steb to accompany the troupe here as their Kiramman-appointed guide and security.

“Looks like you and I might be seeing a lot more of one another in these months to come. Sorry about the additional work on your plate.”

His eyes spoke every word he couldn’t share in response, taking her hand and kissing the knuckles as was socially acceptable.

“I’m looking forward to it.” His raspy voice whispered, Steb making a shy face after, though each one of them cracking a smile in spite of it.

“Alright everyone! Follow me to the manor and I'll get you all taken care of!” Addae called.

As they led the troupe back to the manor, a late night no doubt about to become later with the afterparty Addae had planned, and whatever moments Steb and Mel might find far enough away from anyone near. Things for once seemed to actually be looking up.

A woman who’d been in attendance along the upper balcony turned to watch their large group go, adjusting a silken hood of black over her face as a smile spread across dark lips, her eyes flashing once in amber light.

Strengthen your roots, sister. Your time to bloom will come when you least expect, and I will be there to guide your growth along the way. For as much as you oppose us, you’ll have no choice but to face the destiny that awaits us all. It is inevitable.

Mel felt a chill shoot up her neck, turning back to look, but seeing nothing there, no one standing opposed the crowd of laughing, singing performers celebrating their merriment to an evening well met.

Steb turned to look as well, even Lest’s ears twitching when they clocked their hostess’ heels no longer clacking against the pavement.

Are you okay? His expression asked.

“Yes.” She scanned the air one final time and wrapped her arm into his. “Everything is alright.” Even past the phrase she was sure to share the stronger assurance to him with her eyes. Everything… even the unspoken everything he was most concerned about… it was alright.

He bobbed his chin uncertainly, but didn’t argue on it, escorting her back with the group, leaving only Lest to share that same cautious uncertainty with the wind before she stared off, ears twitching slightly like she was hearing something odd. She let the moment pass though and flanked Mel on the other side, allowing the moonlit shadows to remain just where they were for as long as it took for the sunlight to rise again and snuff it out. And as Rokrund faded into silence and the promise of a peaceful night, a single metal hoof slammed loudly along the outskirts, a woman’s voice letting out a deep breath as she saw Medarda Manor down below, and the promised world she’d been taken from almost a lifetime ago.

“Finally.”

And she rode towards it without looking back.

THE END