Chapter Text
Another dead end, another colossal waste of time and resources. Barely contained anger flitted across Caitlyn’s sharp features as she took in the report from the latest mission a specialised hit team had carried out. It had been their one and only lead in weeks.
“So you have nothing,” she concluded bitterly, clawing her gloved fingers into the wood of her desk at what had once been the sheriff’s office. Now, it was her command centre. She had leaned against the desk in an effort to look ‘approachable’ and ‘casual’, two things she’d been told she lacked, but it only brought her closer to the officer that delivered the report and she had to work all the harder not to backhand him across his face for complete incompetence. She wondered if anyone could tell what was going on in her mind in moments such as these, whether her steely mask held or betrayed the fury that simmered underneath. Maddie’s eyes were on her, those she felt at the back of her neck, and she resolved to ask her opinion on the matter, to make her feel a little special following her harsh dismissal the night before.
“I’m sorry…” the leader of her task force apologised, casting his eyes down to avoid her piercing stare.
“ Commander ,” she bit back, and his gaze flickered up to her.
“Uh-”
It was petty of course but her patience had grown thin, every failure wearing her down more and more. If her troops were going to disappoint her like that, they might as well get their apology right. It wasn’t just their senior officer they should be apologising to, it was the people of Piltover, personified by the commander charged with their protection. Some respect was due!
“That is my title,” she growled menacingly as she pushed off the desk to approach the enforcer. He took an instinctive step back and who could really blame him? She was tall, imposing with her ceremonial cape bulking out her frame, and she took some satisfaction from watching a grown man shrink back. “But if you can’t even remember that, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you came back with nothing to show for your efforts!” she barked, allowing herself a moment to vent her pent up frustration.
“Commander Kiramman.” Ambessa Medarda’s voice was like ice-water poured over the flames of the commander’s anger. Not because her tone was icy - quite the contrary, it had been warm, almost affectionate - but because it reminded Caitlyn of the icy resolve she ought to portray. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”
Caitlyn looked around to see the Noxian warlord stride into the room with confidence, escorted by her right-hand-man Rictus. She had a manner that made her appear comfortable in every situation, with an innate confidence that the young commander could only envy. She had learned a lot from her these past months, be it leadership, strategy or hand-to-hand combat, but not everything came easy to her. Ambessa was a willing and capable teacher and yet Caitlyn often found herself wanting to put her guard up around her. Thus she pulled herself together, schooling her features into something more neutral and cool.
“Not at all,” she stated calmly but retained an edge in her voice as she sought to clear the room. “Dismissed!” The enforcers jumped to action, swiftly exiting the commander’s office, all except for Maddie who Caitlyn requested to stay with a small gesture of her hand. She didn’t like being outnumbered by the Noxians.
“How is the situation?” Ambessa asked conversationally, casting a glance at the wall of evidence and clues they had collected to try and trace Jinx’s whereabouts.
“Tedious,” Caitlyn answered, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Sometimes I feel like I’m surrounded by idiots…” But could she really be so harsh when she hadn’t been able to track down Jinx either? Except she had, one time… She caught Maddie’s eye but decided not to apologise, instead she returned her attention to their guests.
“My soldiers report the same,” the warlord returned thoughtfully, then flashed her a smile. “Not in relation to your enforcers, of course,” she chuckled in a manner clearly designed to put her at ease. “But in regards to the whole situation. It has… stagnated.”
“That’s one way of putting it…” Caitlyn huffed, her gaze wandering to the wanted poster of Jinx. If only they could find her, all of this could be over in a heartbeat. Underneath it all, her public image and well curated façade, she was simply so tired .
“Except the people of the undercity are getting more and more restless,” Ambessa stated and the commander merely hummed her acknowledgement. Her business wasn’t with them. As soon as she had Jinx, she’d- “Has… Mr. Talis indicated when he might resume work?” Those words startled Caitlyn out of her thoughts and her eyes snapped back to the warlord who offered an understanding smile. “We ought to think about equipping the troops in case things-”
“Jayce has other things on his mind,” Caitlyn retorted without delay. She was well aware of the warlord’s desire to arm their troops to the teeth, but she wouldn’t have it done at the expense of her best friend who was buried under a similar mountain of grief as she was. The difference was the small flame of hope he retained, and while there was no immediate need to bother him, Caitlyn would indulge him if just for their friendship’s sake. While she didn’t believe he could bring Viktor back, not with his condition remaining unchanged since the attack, she hoped to be proven wrong one of these days. At least one of them should have a chance at a happy ending.
“How is his partner?” Ambessa asked, though Caitlyn got the distinct sense she didn’t really care to know.
“Unchanged,” she answered curtly but unclenched her jaw, reminding herself she ought to make more of an effort with her allies. “I fear he is fighting a losing battle… but Jayce isn’t prepared to admit that.”
“Too often, our affections blind us-” Ambessa hummed and the commander spotted the flicker of her eyes towards Maddie who remained a quiet presence a few yards away from her. While she wasn’t surprised the warlord would know - she seemed to know everything that happened in Piltover - it certainly got Caitlyn’s back up. Sometimes she wondered if Ambessa did this on purpose to test her metal.
“We can’t all be as pragmatic about the loss of a loved one as you are in regards to Mel,” the commander stated coolly. While the matriarch was undoubtedly the more powerful warrior, Caitlyn had a way with words; she knew how to make a point and deliver a warning.
“Until I have seen evidence of my daughter’s demise, I shan’t entertain the notion of mourning her,” Ambessa gave back, not offended but looking somewhat intrigued by her come-back. She didn’t seem fazed. “She will return.”
“I hope so…” Hers was an opinion Caitlyn would dearly have liked to have. Mel Medarda’s disappearance had been mysterious. Her and her close advisor had simply vanished, and while the commander had no doubt that she’d have the expertise to leave without a trace if she wished, she couldn’t imagine that had been the case. There was more going on. She had assigned a few enforcers to look into the matter, but months on it had become a fool’s errand.
“Now, as I was saying,” Ambessa took charge of the conversation once more, her tone courteous. She wanted something. “The situation in the undercity is tense, a greater military presence would be advisable.”
“I am not interested in suppressing the people of Zaun,” Caitlyn answered, taking a deep breath to try and remind herself who the real enemy was. “I just want to find Jinx and bring an end to all this. How much longer until-”
“It is in everyone’s best interest to keep law and order down there,” Ambessa cut in. “For their safety as much as anything. You will see, they will come around once they realise this is better for them. And they will give the girl up. You will have justice.”
Justice . Caitlyn had heard the word used and misused so much the past few months, it seemed to have lost all meaning. She couldn’t help but wonder if she, too, had lost sight of things.
“Perhaps I ought to go and see for myself…” she mused, given her staff’s failure. Perhaps she had left too much of this fight to other people where she’d had more success with her small strike team. She regarded the evidence, the clues, on the board with keen eyes, trying to discern some meaning they had previously missed.
“I don’t think that is necessary,” Ambessa commented off-handedly. “There are several other matters that require your attention, Commander .” She emphasised the title as though she knew of the pull and weight it had on the young woman.
“Such as?” Caitlyn frowned, averting her eyes from the board to give the warlord her undivided attention.
“Councillor Shoola has expressed a desire to speak to you,” she revealed and anger bubbled up in the commander’s throat. Another unnecessary delay.
“I thought the whole point of martial law was that we didn’t have to keep playing politics!” she spat, allowing herself a moment to freely voice her displeasure while surrounded by her closest advisors.
“There is nothing to be gained from antagonising your allies. Control isn’t everything without support to fall back on.” Ambessa struck a reasonable tone that she often employed when trying to teach her young protege something. “It is admirable to want to lead from the front but a good commander needs to be able to know when to trust one's troops. There are more obligations to it than just the fight.” She offered an understanding smile and scoffed. “Imagine my disappointment.”
Caitlyn allowed for the moment of levity, even mustered a chuckle of her own. She could certainly imagine the warlord disliked dreary affairs of state. Things were just… simpler, in a fight. Black and white. Killing or being killed. The simplicity of it was endlessly appealing, considering the murky waters of moral ambiguities and questionable choices that she found herself wading through on a daily basis.
“You will do well to shore up the home front,” Ambessa advised, and the commander couldn’t deny that she was unnerved by the notion that it was required.
“Has there been discontent?”
“All due respect, Commander. You shouldn’t have to ask that question,” the warlord smiled benevolently. “A leader must keep all aspects of the fight in their sights.”
If that was true, why was she always so intent on directing Caitlyn’s gaze? There was little time to ponder the notion as the commander worked hard not to show any embarrassment at her well-meaning, though somewhat patronising words.
“Fine, I will see the councillor,” she decided, as though she had a choice in the matter, and turned to Maddie. “Any developments, I want to be informed immediately.”
“Yes, Commander.”
At least the girl got the title right, offering the respect she was due. Perhaps she’d reward her for it later.
---
By the end of the day, Caitlyn was done. Absolutely done with everything and everyone. As she pushed inside her family home, she practically tore off her ceremonial cape and threw it at a perplexed servant. She didn’t stop to go and greet her father as she usually would have, he likely wouldn’t even notice anyway. Instead she made straight for her bedroom, wanting nothing more than to rid herself of her uniform that felt terribly restrictive.
She’d needed a good day. After her emotional wobble the night before, it had staked her hopes of picking up her mental health on making the day a success and it had been the very opposite. She had accomplished nothing . Her investigations had turned up nothing . Progress had slowed to a snail's pace. And her so-called ‘meeting’ with Councillor Shoona - and as it turned out a lot of other concerned members of Piltover’s high and mighty - had been an absolute shitshow. There were only so many times she could employ an icy glare and sharp retort. She wondered how her mother had done it all these years.
Throwing the door of her bedroom shut with a thud, she started tearing at her clothes, angry tears blinding her eyes. She snapped the red choker in her rush but didn’t care, so long as she could breathe more easily. The restrictive uniform jacket followed, the boots she kicked off into a corner. Gloves, belt, shirt, trousers- By the time she was down to her underwear, she was panting and sank onto the edge of her bed.
It was an escalation from the day before, rationally she could admit and accept that, but the right course of action to remedy the spiral she felt herself slipping into eluded her. She felt so terribly helpless, that was at the core of it all. People would tell her she was the most powerful person in Piltover, and yet she felt as though golden chains tied her to her new role. If only she could break free.
Suddenly, an idea struck her that soon consumed her mind, like a match that lit gasoline, burning up her doubts and reason in the hopes it might also burn the cage she’d found herself in. In an instant, she was on her feet again and crossed the space to her wardrobe. She would need something suitable to wear or she would fall at the first hurdle.
A desperate need for action informed her swift movements as she pulled on dark tights and a matching tank top. A wide heavy belt, a hooded leather jacket she hadn’t worn in years upon seeing her mothers disapproval of it… She shut the thought down the moment it occurred. This wasn’t about anyone’s approval. Not her mother’s, not Ambessa’s, this was something she had to do for herself.
She needed to see things for herself.
She would have to get a move on if she wanted to do this before Maddie got here, there was no way she would take her with her. With control slipping from her fingers, she needed to find a way to regain it, and taking matters into her own hands was the best way of doing so.
---
Caitlyn avoided the guard stations, she didn’t want anyone to know about her excursion. Instead, she found herself at the edge of the canyon she had once climbed down with Vi. It seemed a lifetime ago now. She had been so naive back then…
Pulling her hood further into her face, she took a deep breath. It was a clear night, the moon bright in the sky and she could see the roofs and ledges below, her mind volunteering the image of Vi vaulting herself through the air on the way down. It had been mesmerising . The commander remembered her own attempts too. Hapless. Clumsy. Almost embarrassing. That wasn’t her anymore. And that mysterious, intriguing version of Vi who had smelled of freedom and adventure, had also been lost to the events that had followed after.
Caitlyn set her jaw in determination, tightening the straps of the bag that held her gun on her back, and jumped .
Air rushed past her cheeks, whipped into her hood, and she caught herself on a rooftop, skidding across slippery tiles. She ran. Faster than was strictly safe. She made her reflexes work, vaulted off a bannister, grabbing hold of a crumbling edge. She slid down a drain pipe, her muscles erupting in a familiar burn that made her feel alive .
It was freeing and ended too soon for her liking. Caitlyn caught herself in her feet, jumping the last level and was surprised by the unfamiliar sensation of a smile pulling at her cheeks. The genuine kind. Shaking her head to herself, she acknowledged how silly that was.
Adjusting her hood, she set off down the road, keeping her head low. While she had done well with her choice of outfit, she knew her face to be all too recognisable, especially since the propaganda posters had been put up. Ambessa had assured her it was a good tactic, painting her as the protector of all, the face of law and order. It wasn’t long until she came upon one of them and even if it hadn’t been for the blue spray-paint job across her face, she’d hardly have recognised herself. Clearly, the people of Zaun weren’t convinced either.
For some time the commander simply wandered the undercity, the streets she had grown familiar with through many excursions, and found them far more empty than she had anticipated. Was the unrest Ambessa had spoken off something of an exaggeration? It was difficult to tell. Amongst the flags that bore a variation of her family crest, symbolising the occupation of Zaun, and the blue graffiti everywhere, it almost seemed like a war of symbols rather than people.
Caitlyn ventured lower, into the darker corners of the undercity where any semblance of civilised life fell away, where filth lined the streets, where shouting echoed through the night, where violence spilled into alleyways. Drugs. Crime. Resistance .
Where dirty, messy life prevailed.
With every step she took, more of her inhibitions fell away. Rationally she knew this was a terrible idea but that didn’t stop her progress, if anything, it urged her on. The freedom to make decisions, be they bad ones. Her heart sped up into the rhythm of thumping bass that carried from the club where the low-lives of Zaun had retreated to at this late hour, and throwing a coin at the bouncer at the door without looking up, she pushed inside.
The air was rank - alcohol, sweat, blood - disgustingly human . Caitlyn growled under her breath, growing hot under her jacket but she didn’t dare take it off. Instead she pushed herself into the crowd of filthy bodies. The noise was deafening, music gave a baseline to the roars, laughter and screaming that sounded all around. It was impossible to discern if they were sounds of joy or pain, perhaps both, but they were certainly those of ecstasy.
Caitlyn didn’t want to drink, she didn’t think anything served at the long bar to the right would agree with her. Instead, she wanted to see, to watch, to experience .
In the centre of the club was a deep pit, stands fencing off the area, so that no-one would interfere with the bloodthirsty sport down below. The commander pressed herself forward for a better view. In the anonymity of the club, she could admit to herself that this was what she had come for, not a need to see the state of Zaun for herself. She knew what she would see before she cast her eyes down into the pit, having read all about it the night before. The fight was already in full swing, she’d arrived a little late, but not too late.
There she was.
The screaming, the cheers, the deafening noise around seemed to fade into the background, all Caitlyn could hear was the rushing of blood in her ears, the thumping of her heart, at sight of the woman she had cast from her life.
Vi looked different. Broader. Stronger. Months of fighting in the pits of the undercity had left their mark and not just in the bruises that blemished her skin. With merely bandages wrapped around her chest, Caitlyn saw more of her body than ever before and a jolt of powerful attraction shot through her. Now, that was what she’d been missing in her bed…
The pitfighter took a punch to the face from a much larger opponent, but hardly seemed fazed as she ducked low and threw herself forward.
The commander watched, fascinated, caught between excitement and dread. She didn’t want to see Vi hurt, despite everything, but she couldn’t deny the thrill of watching her knock her opponent into the ground.
Every punch, every jab, the way the muscles of her sculpted back moved as she pummelled into the large thug… Caitlyn forgot to breathe.
It was over all too soon.
Vi pumped her fist into the air, celebrating her victory, her opponent a bloody, unconscious mess on the floor and the crowd went wild. The bloodlust was palpable and Caitlyn felt it too, like a red fog that settled around her vision and clouded her mind, intoxicating as well as arousing.
She had to walk away. Otherwise there would be no way of knowing what she might do.
Stumbling over her own feet, she pushed back through the crowd, ducking under arms, shoving people aside who were too drunk to even care. This had been a mistake.