Chapter Text
Having sex with Ambessa Medarda was not how you thought this client meeting would go. Seeing her day after day, with that same teasing smirk and sway of her hips just ate away at your resolve. Steam filling your lungs, you struggle to get a full breath, panting as her thick digits ram into your throbbing heat, thrusting deeper each time. You weak, desperate fool.
Earlier-
All morning you and Mel have been working on solutions to the ever-growing threat of a Zaun rebellion. You’ve spent hours hunched over piles of paper, squeezing the bridge of your nose as you run through all the scenarios, all the possible solutions. There’s so many possibilities, your mind muddled with how many things could go wrong. The lives of thousands of innocents depend on your actions, your choices. The pressure is crushing to say the least.
Working in Mel’s room, you sit perched on her window bench, legs crossed beneath you as you shuffle through papers. Bigger than yours and decorated lavishly, rugs cover the dark wood floor of her room, books and papers neatly stacked on the desk, a crystal chandelier hanging from her ceiling. Your favorite part of it all is her window, the amazing view of all Piltover and Zaun. Adorned with an extremely comfortable cushion, it spans almost a full wall of her room. You’ve loved it since the first time you saw it. It's where you always sit, since the beginning, your eyes drawn to the view, the comfort of seeing all.
"This is going nowhere." Mel groans out of the silence of her room, her hands moving to massage her forehead. "Have you gotten anywhere with prevention work?”
“No, I haven’t. I can’t get past the problem of hextech’s involvement.” You sigh, putting the paper you’ve been reading down. “This is just a horrible situation, there’s no way that we can keep hextech from being capitalized, let alone being used against the civilians. It would be a human rights disaster.”
She hums, thinking. “If we can’t stop hextech from being used, we have to prevent the violence from happening in the first place. We have to-“ She drones off.
“We have to what?” You see that her body stills, frozen and full of tension. Looking at her face, you notice her look of surprise and growing irritation as her hands ball into fists.
“Mel? Are you okay?” Silence. You turn your gaze to the window, following hers. Faint outlines of a ship stalking through the harbor, heavy Piltover fog concealing it. Daunting in size and definitely not one of the trading ships that frequently visit your shores. No. This is big, its steel hull cutting through the warm waters, flags flying high. As the ship continues toward the docks, the fog shifts and its colors come into view. You immediately recognize it. A Noxian battleship, in your harbor. There’s only one person. The General.
You turn back to Mel, whose face is now stone-cold, her inner turmoil hidden well with years of practice. “Mel is that-“
“Yes.” She responds, swallowing harshly. She stands slowly, her body moving with an eerie calmness. Straightening her dress, she fixes her appearance and moves towards the door of her room. She stops before leaving, turning to you. She watches you for a moment, searching your face as if debating with herself. She decides she wants company, especially when dealing with her mother. Her voice comes out full of tension but calm, an odd combination. “Come with me? Please?”
~
That's how you came face to face with the cause of Mel’s turmoil. What causes her usual kindness and calmness to disappear into hard silence and cold gazes. By her side, you both stand directly in front of the ship’s stairs, the steel resting on the cement dock. Soldiers line the boat, red and silver crowding the harbor. A strong burly man with a curled mustache and fitted beard stands at the edge of the stairs, staring at Mel. She seems to know him by her reaction to his gaze, a hand moving to gently grasp his shoulder with some kind words of greeting. He doesn’t respond, only watching Mel, his eyes sparkling with something. Admiration? Love? Understanding? Cute.
Your eyes flick back to the ship, its stature towering over the harbor buildings and all other ships in the port. You gaze at the shiny steel of its hull, so clean that you can almost see a clear reflection of the soldiers positioned in front of it. Dark wood decorates the top half of the ship, resembling the wood in Mels room, intricate spirals of gold painted on its frame. Shocked in awe at the mere size of the ship, your eyes continue to take in every detail even as its doors open and steam flows out dramatically.
“What an entrance, Mother.” Mel mutters, rolling her eyes in annoyance. Her sarcasm draws your eyes up to the shadow that slowly approaches through the steam. You watch carefully as Mel’s mother slowly reveals herself, her steps echoing loudly as she finally reaches the opening. The steam dissipates and leaves a clear view of the warrior of a woman approaching you.
Your eyes latch immediately onto her large hands, one tucked in her belt, moving smoothly with her hips as she walks. Her other, wrapped in bright red Noxian cloth, holds nothing and swings by her side, her arm muscles bulging. Her short grey hair loosely hangs, black fur wrapped around her shoulder and silver armor plates adorning her chest, hips and arms. Her skin glows in the sun, adorned with numerous scars. Gods she’s beautiful. She’s significantly taller than you and Mel, her body muscular, but not nearly deprived of curves. The power this woman holds is evident in just the way she walks, her hips swaying, shoulders back and eyes on everything and nothing all at once. Eyes only staying on something for milliseconds before moving on. Until they hit you.