Chapter Text
Present Day.
Kiramman’s gaze flitted between her and the wooden boards of the pier while the Baron of Glaivestone thanked her endlessly for her efforts that day. Behind them was a wide, newly-constructed bridge spanning the widest point of the river. Vi stood a respectful distance away -- just as Kiramman preferred -- while she handled the politician. There would be a feast tonight, as usual, to honor the completion of the bridge and the mage’s efforts. To them it may have been a big deal, but to Kiramman it was just Tuesday. This was just a fraction of her power on display.
She kept a careful watch over the gathered onlookers, looking for any sign of ill intent. At long last, Kiramman excused herself and strode up the path towards the carriage, not bothering to glance at Vi. She knew Vi would follow like her own faithful shadow. The path to the mansion was short and they immediately excused themselves to Kiramman’s quarters. The mage, as usual, was hosted in the most luxurious guest room available, while Vi had been given a room with the guards in the barracks. It was immaterial, since Vi spent most of her waking moments outside this door anyway. Kiramman didn’t seem like she wanted to talk, so Vi kept her mouth shut. She had grown attuned to Kiramman’s fickle mood over the years. Something about spending the entire day discussing the specifics of bridge building with hundreds of other interested parties had probably left her in a sour mood.
Kiramman flung open the door, gesturing for Vi to enter, as protocol dictated. Vi began her inspection of the room. They were in Zaunite lands, so it should be quite safe, but one could never be too sure. When she was satisfied, Vi nodded.
“It’s clear.”
“Good,” Kiramman said as she leaned closer, grabbing Vi by the collar, her lips meeting Vi’s in a bruising kiss as she let the frustration of the day seep out of her. Vi smirked into her lips, only because she knew it would piss Kiramman off. “Stop smirking.”
“You’re hot when you’re frustrated.”
“You’re tolerable when you’re quiet.”
Vi tutted. “These jibes are so unbecoming of a mage.”
Kiramman rolled her eyes, pushing Vi backwards. Vi let the mage push her against the wall. “And you’re too immature for a knight. Yet here we are, Captain.”
Vi grinned, letting her hands roam over Kiramman’s body. Yet here they were, indeed.
Three years ago.
The company of horsemen swept up the path and around the back of the keep. The leader of column pushed her magenta hair away from her face as she came to a stop near the stables.
Vi handed her reins over to the stable boy as she dismounted in a quick graceful motion.
“Take care of him,” she instructed sternly and tossed an extra coin to the stablehand. The boy nodded and led the giant warhorse in the direction of the stables. She was dressed in simple leather armour, her red pauldrons the only thing that marked her rank as an Elite Red. Her boots were mud-stained, and she was sore from riding the whole day. Nonetheless, she was glad to be home earlier than they had planned. The long, hard ride was worth it. Behind her, the carriage halted and stable boys and girls swarmed the company, ready to park the carriage for the night and rub down the horses. The sun hung low in the sky, its bottom rim just touching the top of the tree-lined avenue. Another job well done, and in good time too.
Two cloaked men stepped out of the carriage; the exhaustion of their journey written clearly on their faces. She may be tired, but those two had fared comparably worse.
“Thanks for the escort, Vi,” said the senior mage, his brown hair unkempt, eyes tired.
“Not a problem, Viktor.” She watched as they grabbed their packs and stumbled in the direction of the Mage’s Hold.
She entered the castle, returning the salute from the door guards. Her rooms were at the back of the keep close to the stables in a building known as the Knights Quarters. The room was spartan, with a large wooden bed and a table for work. The mattress was stiff and in the winter the room was chilly, but it was luxurious compared to the barracks.
Vi sighed. Sevika was going to want a report by tomorrow. Sevika and her damned reports were the bane of her existence. Then she had to file an expense claim with the Treasury, which was always a pleasure to deal with, and then get some of her gear replaced by the quartermaster. Vi slumped down in her chair. The missions were always the easy parts. The reports were the painful, soul-sucking part. Still, it was better to get it over and done with. She had just picked up her quill when there was a hurried knock on her door.
“Who’s there?” she called.
“It’s Mylo!” Came the muffled shout. “Heard you were back. Wanna grab drinks tonight?”
Vi sighed and pushed her chair back, opening the door. Her gangly adopted brother was standing by the doorway, a large grin on his face. His hair had been recently cropped short and his beard was neatly trimmed.
“Nice haircut. Good riddance to that mess,” Vi remarked as she returned to her seat.
“Come on, it’s Friday night. Drinks wouldn’t kill you,” Mylo wheedled. He was dressed in a simple shirt and breeches, nothing to signify his rank as a Red knight.
“Sevika will, though, if I don’t submit this on time,” Vi said darkly, dipping her quill into her inkwell.
“Even Sevika doesn’t expect reports on the same night you get back,” Mylo challenged.
“Yes, but she’s going to expect it tomorrow, which is even worse because that’s a Saturday and I want to sleep in.” Vi scrawled ferociously over a piece of paper. “Sometimes being an Elite sucks.”
“Why don’t you ask to be demoted then?” Mylo asked cheekily. They both knew why she couldn’t do that. Vander was pushing her hard to reach the standard of a White, and since he was their elected King of ten years and her adopted father, how could she say no?
“And let you become a White? Not a chance,” Vi rolled her eyes. Jinx had zero interest in becoming a knight. Claggor was a Yellow and adamantly refused to be promoted. He preferred staying at the fiefdom away from the capital, training recruits and getting his hands dirty. Mylo and Vi had come to the capital with Vander when he was elected King by the Council, and between the two of them, someone had to try climbing the ranks. It helped Vander to have a close contact amongst the Knights and if Vi had learnt anything about the capital, it was that everything revolved around politics. Also, she couldn't imagine reporting to Mylo, of all people.
“Okay,” Mylo said gamely, pulling out the chair opposite her and crossed his arms. “I’m going to sit here until you’re done, and then we’re going for drinks.”
Vi smiled without taking her eyes off the document. “Fifteen minutes tops, and I’ll be done.”
Thirty minutes and an error-riddled document later, Vi and Mylo found themselves at Jericho’s. The tavern was in the merchant district of the capital, a good twenty minutes’ walk outside the keep. It’s proximity to both the keep and the free-spending traders made it a favorite amongst the locals. It was a squat, ugly expansive two-storey wooden building from the outside. Inside, it was furnished with wooden tables and chairs, along with a long bar and a smoky hearth. The bar smelled like smoke, beer, meat roasts and old sweat. The tables were coated in a layer of oil and grime. The chairs fared a little better – most were clean, though all were chipped and some had developed a permanent instability. Here, one could usually find servants, knights and magistrates from the keep rubbing shoulders with the silver traders, copper smiths and fishmongers of the city.
Mylo and Vi seated themselves near the north exit. Jericho’s may not look like much, but it served some of the best food in this part of the city. That alone had won their regular patronage.
“Didn’t you have dinner at the keep?” Vi asked Mylo as she watched him dig into a drumstick. She had finished her food ages ago, but he was still going strong on his third helping.
“They’ve gotten it into their heads that we all need to eat healthy,” Mylo complained. “And now the food just sucks. Whoever thought up this scheme needs a kick on the arse.”
Vi watched as an argument at the next table became heated. The three men stood and marched out, shoulders tense and angry. The unspoken rule in Jericho was that there would be no fighting in here, or Jericho would remove you from the premises himself. Nobody wanted that, and so far that kept the peace.
“Sevika’s giving me so much shit,” Vi groaned. “She’s got two more missions planned for us this month, and then she wants to dump her work on me while she goes off inspecting the fiefs. A beer for me, Elise.”
The waitress winked at her as she nodded. Mylo took a big slurp of his beer.
“Quit hitting on anyone who moves,” he grumbled.
“I ordered a beer; that’s hardly flirting. Don’t be sore just because you can’t get any. Besides, this gets us table service. Would you rather wait to get served at the bar?”
Mylo conceded the point. “Is the new roster out? What’s taking so long?”
“Soon, soon, I’ll draw something up,” Vi rubbed her jaw with a hand. “Wish I was a Green again.”
“Me too,” Mylo cackled. “Then I’d be your boss.”
Vi swatted at him and he dodged nimbly.
“Ooo,” he paused and angled his head.
Vi turned in time to watch as a captivating woman stepped into the squalid bar. Her midnight blue hair was tied loosely back in a high ponytail, allowing strands to fall out and frame her regal, aquiline features. She had sharp cheekbones that Vi wanted to cut her tongue on, and slender jawline that would look perfect in Vi’s palm. She was wearing a white silk blouse, the first two buttons undone. She was hardly the most gorgeous woman Vi had ever seen, but something about her piqued Vi’s immediate interest. More people entered the bar, hiding her from Vi’s line of sight.
Vi tracked the group across the tavern and watched as they sat at a table across the room. The woman strolled over to the bar, immediately getting the bartender’s attention with a smile on her face.
Mylo rolled his eyes. “I know that look,” he grabbed some crackling and popped it into his mouth. “Go on, I’m waiting to be entertained.”
“Hey,” Vi sidled up to the woman, “can I buy you a drink?” Up close she could appreciate the sharp features of the woman, her flawless skin, her pretty, blue eyes. Her eyes raked over the slim figure of the mystery woman, before trailing up to her eyes and her decidedly less-than-impressed expression.
“And…who are you?” she said in a northern accent. Fuck, even her accent was hot.
“Vi, Elite Red Knight,” Vi said with a cocky grin. “We keep the capitol safe.” She flexed subtly. “And you are?”
“No one of any concern to you,” the woman said smoothly before turning back to the bartender. The bartender was completely taken in – she got the mystery woman her drinks ready in record time, even reaching over to touch the woman’s hand. Vi suppressed a grin. The woman concluded the last of her flirty remarks and grabbed the tray. As she leaned over, her necklace swung out, glinting in the amber tavern light.
Vi blinked, unsure if the light was playing tricks on her eyes.
A Shiny. It was an intricate clover-shaped design with a single glass bead around one of its rings, topped off by a double figure-of-eight, hanging off a plain silver chain. Now that was impressive.
“You’re a mage.”
“How astute of you,” the woman remarked dryly. “Next time, Red Knight.” She carried her tray off to her table, sparing a single backward glance at Vi.
Vi shook her head. It was not her lucky night. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the woman laughed with her companions, and then slinked back to her deserted table. Mylo was off at the other end of the bar talking to a brunette lady. He caught Vi’s eye and smirked. In response, Vi raised her mug with a grin. At least one of them would have a good night.
Vi peeped into the room. She was early for once, but it seemed that the others were earlier. Sevika stared down at a map of Zaun, the White insignia marked clearly on the shoulder of her uniform. Leona was there too, leaning back in her chair as she stared at the ceiling. Larivan was slumped with his head on his hands, taking a nap on the table. The only absent member, Brion, was away on a mission.
Out of all the Whites, Sevika was the easiest to work with. Vi used the term loosely, because working under her was still a bitch. Sevika was focused solelyon the results, an approach that Vi could agree with. It made her expectations very clear. The other two, Jaccard, in particular, loved their protocols and their bullshit shows of respect. Larivan, for instance, would not dream of taking a nap in front of Jaccard.
Sevika glanced up as Vi entered the room and shut the door behind her.
“You’re on time,” Sevika remarked.
Vi grunted in response. She handed a scroll out to each person.
“Two big trips this month, the last person will hang back and see to the southern defense. We’re getting reports of bands of highway robbers harassing travellers in that area, and we’re expecting it to get worse if the fighting down south continues and the deserters get desperate. So, one lucky person will be going down to sunny skies of Redfront. The other two will be sent off to Demacia.”
Demacia. Demacia wasn’t bad, the food was fantastic, and they were a friendly state.
Larivan unfolded his paper and pumped his fist. “Redfront!”
“From Demacia, one person will continue on to Freidenburg while the other moves to the coastal town of Calin. All in Demacian territory, so no trouble is expected,” Sevika continued as though Larivan had not spoken. “The main mission in the capital is for you highly-trained knights is…the Princess’ birthday party, so remember to bring your formal wear. Now, I can tell by your expressions that you are simply ecstatic. This is a diplomatic mission that has been entrusted to the mages, and where the mages go--”
“The knights go,” Vi finished glumly.
“Please try not to fuck up any of our diplomatic ties with them. The additional details are in the missives. Prepare your guards, brief them, and get ready to go.”
Vi groaned. Sevika waggled her finger at her. “Remember, any mission where the both of you are present,” she pointed at Leona, “she’s in charge. Don’t fuck up.” With those final words, Sevika strode towards the door. “Oh and Vi? Your report needs work. Get a fucking proof-reader and get the edited document on my desk by the end of the day. Or I will send you to school with the ten-year-olds.”
Vi ground her back teeth. “Yes ma’am.”
Sevika left and Leona laughed. “Asshole,” Vi muttered under her breath, but without any heat because even she could acknowledge that her report had been shittily written.
“See you next month!” Clearly pleased with his assignment, Larivan sauntered out of the room.
Leona looked down at the map Sevika had left behind, circling an area with her finger. When they weren’t sent out on missions like the city errand’s boys, they were supposed to be overseeing the day-to-day military arrangements of different parts of the Zaun empire. Leona was the Eastern head, an area that was traditionally filled with loyal fiefdoms. Vi had been given the North, an area that was a hotbed of unruly behaviour. Sometimes life was just not fair.
“And how are things going up north?”
“It’s going terribly,” Vi groaned. “They want more security, but less Zaunite presence but also more funds, but less taxes. What am I supposed to do?”
Leona shook her head sympathetically, ever the responsible one. “I’d trade with you if I could, you know.”
Vi knew that, and it wasn’t because Leona was a power-hungry ambitious backstabber. Leona had made it clear that she had no intention of becoming a White. She was consistently honest and level-headed and would actually be a far better White than Vi would ever be. But they both also knew that Vander wanted her assigned to the north as a test, a test that Vi was currently struggling with.
“Why does he do this to me?” Vi bemoaned.
“He thinks you have what it takes,” Leona suggested. “If you put your mind to it.”
Vi rested her chin on her hands as she looked at the map. To the north of Zaun was a black ‘X’ and the northern provinces arrayed around it. Those provinces did not belong to Zaun, though many had allied themselves with Zaun and asked for protection when their capital city of Piltover had been razed. In return, they had to pay taxes and provide resources and soldiers. Over the years the relationship had grown to something like that of an empire and a vassal state and now they had an awkward resentful push-pull relationship between the two areas. It was fraught with diplomatic mines and Vi was hardly the most patient person.
“Tell me, Leona, what am I supposed to do when Baron A,” she poked one of the small castles savagely, “insists that we provide more soldiers to protect his river trading posts and that we bill Baron B for it because B apparently fucked his sister when he was out of town? I say no, and he keeps whining about it. What am I supposed to do?”
“Tell A to get his shit together. It’s Baron Winesledge, isn’t it?”
Vi sighed, getting up. “When do we need to leave on our next mission?”
“A week.”
“Good, enough time to knock some sense into some uncooperative barons. See ya, Sunshot.”
The sky was streaked pink; dawn had just broken. Carrying her pack, Vi trudged down to the stables. A week in the keep was hardly enough time to rest. Two carriages had been loaded for the mages, along with their supplies for the journey. They had also prepared horses for the ten Greens and two Reds who were coming along. Atlas, as always was happy to see her. She gave him an apple as a morning treat, and then saddled him up.
“Fuck, it’s early,” Mylo said as he dragged his bag to the meeting point. “Who are the other two Reds?”
“Leona’s heading this mission,” Vi said. “And Tariq’s coming too.”
“Okay, that’s not too bad. I hate it when it’s Carrow. He stinks,” he wrinkled his nose.
“And he thinks you talk too much,” Vi commented.
Vi checked the supplies and made sure there was more than enough for their trip to Demacia. There were plenty of small villages for them to resupply in, but Vi knew Leona preferred not to stop if she didn’t need to. Leona and Tariq arrived next, both similarly dressed and packed. They were followed shortly by the Greens, carrying slightly more weaponry than the Reds. It was too early for small talk, so the fourteen of them stood around waiting for the mages.
Two figures came tramping up with black cloaks. “Mages are here,” Mylo said. “About time.”
Vi blinked blearily, hoping her eyes were deceiving her. It was the woman from the bar. Her eyes flickered in recognition before she turned to Leona.
“I’m Captain Sunshot,” Leona said. “I’m in charge of your security for this mission. This is Captain Lane.”
“Kiramman,” the tall woman said.
“Crescent,” her companion, a shorter woman with gray eyes and long, bleached white hair said.
“Excellent. These are your carriages. We’re ready when you are.”
The path headed north before it turned east, towards Demacian lands. As they crested a hill, Vi could see the lay of the land spreading out at her feet. The north was mostly flat and fertile, containing some of the most productive lands in the empire. In the far distance was a huge, dark circle, surrounded by a patchwork of cultivated farms.
Vi rode ahead, next to Leona, leaving Mylo and Tariq to bring up the rear.
“What do you know about Kiramman?” she asked.
Leona shrugged. “Must be a new Shiny. Never met her before.” The rank was exceptional enough that they knew the names of all the Shinies in Zaun.
“Sounds like a Northerner.”
“Yeah,” Vi sat easily in her saddle, reins held loosely in her right hand.
Leona gave her a sideways glance. “Don’t even think about it.”
“About what?”
“I know that look. Be professional, Vi.”
“I am professional,” Vi retorted.
“Firstly, you don’t know if she’s single or into women. Secondly, she’s a Shiny, so if you piss her off I’m going to be scraping you off the sidewalk. Not much loss, but imagine the paperwork,” Leona shuddered.
“Fuck you. I can behave myself.”
The mages occupied a privileged position in Zaun. No other place in the known world produced mages and nobody knew why. And where there was a scarcity, there was political leverage. The mages were often loaned to neighbouring cities for all sorts of favors and where they went, the knights went too. For the knights had two main missions – the first was the security of the empire, and the second was the security of the mages. The knights were the only faction that outranked the mages and that meant the knights and the mages didn’t always get along politically. Currently, though, they were in a good spot. The current head of the Mages Guild was Grayson, an astute older woman who seemed mostly amendable to Vander’s policies, and so far, she remained a friend of the knights.
Majority of the mages were not a big deal. Vi, like most Zaunites, had some gift for magic and a certain amount of magic resistance. It was so commonplace it was hardly special. But once in a blue moon, they had a Shiny – formally known as the Diamond class.
The test to be a Shiny was not a secret. The candidate is given a lump of coal, and using only their power, they were required to exert enough force to transform the coal into diamond, and then show enough control to thread the diamond through a glass hoop the size of a pinhole. Some mages practiced their whole life for that test.
“She’s so young though,” Vi added. “Aren’t they usually quite old?”
“Talent is talent. Grayson’s great at picking the right people,” Leona said. “So, professional eh?” Leona gave her a sly, dirty, smirk.
Vi did not like that look.
“I’m going to make Kiramman your personal charge, Vi, for this trip.” Leona gave her a saccharine smile. “Personally accountable.”
“What?” her voice rose.
“She’s a Shiny and Shinies need attentive security. It’s standard protocol. Tell me it won't be a problem.”
“I hope you get a bum rash, Sunshot,” Vi shook her head as Leona guffawed.
The capital of Demacia was Valenforth, over a week’s journey away. The journey was uneventful; the mages kept to themselves, and so did the guards. The weather stayed fair, and the company was in good spirits. Both Kiramman and Crescent seemed used to camping. They unrolled and packed their bedrolls with practiced ease, though, as always, the duties around the campsite fell to the knights. At least they hadn’t demanded for their food to be served to them or for every twig to be swept away. Vi had experienced both of those things in separate events over the years, and it had typically not ended well for the mage.
They weren’t too worried about attracting attention, so Leona permitted a campfire every night. Even without the campfire, it remained reasonably warm. The mages tended to exude heat – Sevika had told her it a natural process they did subconsciously, burning off their excess magical energy. For non-magi, the Whites were exceptionally well-informed about their practices.
After four days, they entered Demacian lands. It was not unlike the land north of Zaun, except that they could now see the tall, jagged heads of the mountains in the distance. On the eighth day, they arrived at the capital.
A pair of royal guards were waiting for them at the city walls.
Leona handed them a scroll, after which the guards gestured for them to follow. Vi had to admit that Valenforth looked much nicer than Zaun. The streets were wider and less stinky. They had large plazas and little gardens scattered around the city, with fountains of drinking water. The people were fair and taller than the average Zaunite.
They finally drew up before the gates of the main keep, where the guards halted.
“Showtime,” Leona muttered. The Greens filed in two orderly columns behind the carriage, making a conscious effort to make a good impression. As they should, given that Vi had explicitly ordered them to do so before setting out that morning.
Vi vaulted from Atlas and opened the door to Kiramman’s carriage. She offered her hand, but mage pointedly ignored it. Vi nodded to herself like she hadn’t just been snubbed, and then took up her position beside Kiramman, with Mylo behind her. Leona took her position on the other flank next to Crescent and the Greens lined up behind them. They entered the front square of the keep.
“Stay out here,” Leona ordered the Greens.
The doors to the throne room were thrown open by the royal guards with all the pomp befitting their delegation. There was a carpet leading into the room, and at the other end on a short dais, was a genial-looking king on a golden throne. To his right was a ruggedly handsome square-jawed man. A handful of guards stood at the foot of the dais.
“Welcome to Demacia,” His Majesty, Pieter Crownguard, dipped his head.
“Your Majesty, we thank you for your invitation,” Kiramman replied. “We’re happy to be here.”
“Caitlyn!” A cannonball of blue and blonde launched from the corner of the room.
Vi reacted instinctively. Her sword was out of its sheathe before she could blink. The oncoming stranger carried on forward, bringing her uncomfortably close to Vi’s blade. Vi prepared to angle the blade downwards, which would bring it safely away, but abruptly she hit an invisible wall, flinging her blade backwards and away from the newcomer. A heartbeat later, the Demacian guards reacted. Suddenly, everyone, except Leona, was brandishing their swords, and they were all looking at her.
“Luxanna!” Kiramman stepped forward and embraced her friend, pointedly ignoring all the bared swords in the room.
Oh. Vi sheathed her sword, face red. The rest of the guards followed suit.
“Ah yes. My daughter, Luxanna. As you can see, she misses you, Caitlyn. What has it been? Two, three years?”
Who was this Shiny who was apparently on a first name basis with the royal family of Demacia?
“Three,” Kiramman said with a toothy grin. The shorter blonde woman curtsied to the rest of the delegation.
“I apologize for my impulsiveness,” she said. Kiramman’s eyes darted to Vi, but Vi didn’t say a thing. The Knights didn’t usually handle overt diplomacy, leaving that to the mages.
“It was a misunderstanding,” Kiramman smoothed the matter over.
“At least we know they’re well-trained,” the brown-haired man said with a grin, striding down the stairs from the throne. “Hi, Caitlyn.”
Kiramman leaned up, giving him air-kisses on both cheeks. The King clapped his hands. “Well, we can discuss the details of your travels at a later date. Lux, could you show them to their rooms?”
“That was a dick move,” Kiramman hissed. “You almost caused an international incident!”
“Well, it was a reaction. I saw a sudden movement and reacted accordingly! I don’t expect people to come charging at me in throne rooms. Will you calm down? Nothing bad happened!”
“I will not ‘calm down’ “Kiramman retorted with air quotes. They were all gathered in the Kiramman’s room. Crescent had been given the room opposite and the Knights were housed near the barracks with the other guards. “You almost decapitated the Princess!”
“I wouldn’t have, and I did not!” Vi seethed. “I had complete control over my blade.”
Kiramman stared at her like she couldn’t believe her ears. “Do make sure you don’t get in the way for the rest of the mission!” Vi could feel the room get a little warmer as she went on her tirade. Vi looked to Leona for support, only to find her and Crescent nodding along with Kiramman’s dressing-down. “Try it anywhere else and we will get run through!”
“I’m not a rookie,” Vi spat back. “Stop lecturing me!”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Leona said. “Please, Vi. No incidents.”
“Fine,” Vi ground out.
“Mage Kiramman, since Vi is not currently in the mood, I’ll apologise on her behalf. We’re sorry for the mishap. Won’t happen again,” she said firmly. Kiramman took a deep breath and gave her a sharp nod.
“Now,” Leona added, trying to diffuse the situation. “Crescent and I are heading to her room and Vi will secure your living quarters,” she added to Kiramman. “Despite that…incident, I assure you she is one of our best. Do heed any instructions she gives.”
“I will,” Kiramman bit out, “as long as she doesn’t say anything too stupid.”
“Good enough,” Leona declared. “We’ll see you tomorrow. Mylo and Tariq are on night shift.”
They quickly departed, leaving Kiramman to glare daggers at Vi. Vi took a deep breath.
“Demacia is quite safe, so I don’t expect that we’ll need any additional precautions. I’ll do a sweep of the room and there will always be a guard posted at your door as always. If you need me, I’ll be outside.”
Kiramman gave her a terse nod as Vi flung open the cupboards and began her inspection.
“I’m here,” Vi said. She was dressed in a sleeveless thick leather vest. Her pants were also lightly padded, providing her with some protection while allowing her to remain mobile. Mylo and Tariq had moved a table to the space between the mages’ room so Tariq and Mylo could play cards while on guard duty. It was the good kind of guard duty, where no one expected any danger.
“About time,” Mylo mumbled. It was 5 am. “Nothing to report, all quiet.”
Leona showed up two minutes later to relieve Tariq. Vi checked that Kiramman was indeed still safe and sound in bed and then sat down in Mylo’s vacated seat.
“You want to talk about it?” Leona asked.
Vi shook her head. She had reacted on instinct -- instincts that no one else had because most of the capital Reds and the palace guards were just that -- palace guards. They might escort a noble around town or stop a shoplifter or a fight outside a tavern. But she had grown up in the farms up north, and then when she and Jinx were taken in by Vander, she had joined the fight against marauders, kidnappers, murderers and smugglers, all of whom wouldn’t think twice about running her through with the pointy end of a sword. A slow knight was a dead knight and that had been drilled into her from the day she turned twelve.
At least Leona knew this and had some personal experience up north -- enough experience to forgive Vi and make sure that little incident didn’t make it into the official trip report.
“Nobody died,” Leona said sympathetically. “Don’t be hard on yourself.”
“Not even thinking twice about it,” Vi said flippantly, shuffling the cards.
“If you say so.” Leona dealt with an expert hand. They both seemed relaxed, concentrating on their cards, a ruse on their part. She kept one eye on her cards and the other on the corridor behind Leona.
“I’m not saying that you would have hit the princess,” Leona said softly, “but Kiramman stopped your blade, didn’t she?”
Vi nodded.
“She’s fast,” Leona noted with admiration.
“And precise.” Vi played a card.
“Shinies,” they said in unison and grinned.
At 7.30 am, dawn light filtered through the windows. Vi gave Leona a quick nod to signal the end of the games. She was losing 14-15, but Leona had been lucky tonight. She stretched, getting to her feet and stood at the loose attention at Kiramman’s door. Leona did the same opposite her.
At exactly 8.30am, a handmaid appeared, summoning them to breakfast.
Breakfast was bread, cold cuts and tea. Lux greeted them alone – save for a bunch of guards at the door. Zaun didn’t have such a dedicated security force. Vander had a personal guard, but there was no princess, no prince, not even a queen, to protect. If Vander was killed tomorrow, they would simply elect the next ruler and carry on.
“Caitlyn!” She greeted the mage with a peck on her cheek. She did the same to Crescent, and then, surprisingly, to Leona and Vi. Not all the royals she knew acknowledged the presence of security personnel. Lux rose several notches in her estimate. Now that she could see the Princess up close, she could see her resemblance with the King. The shorter blonde girl was probably several years younger than herself, with dainty, fair features and a chirpy demeanor. It reminded Vi of Jinx.
They took their seats around the table. “Would you like to see the city?” Lux asked as she buttered her bread. “We could have a quick tour and be back by lunch. That's more than enough time to prepare for the party.”
“We would love to,” Crescent said excitedly. “I’ve never been to Demacia.”
Lux’s eyes lit up. “Yes, let’s! We’ll do a tour of the merchant’s district, then the Rose Park and the wharf.”
Leona and Vi exchanged glances. A walk through the city meant more people, and more people meant more danger. Leona shrugged subtly.
“You don’t need to go if you don’t want to,” Kiramman added. “We’ll be with Lux and her guards, which should be quite safe.”
“Everywhere you go, I’m going,” Vi said simply.
Kiramman gave her a long look. “Alright, Lux, we’ll all go.”
After breakfast they were all ushered into a huge carriage. Leona and Crescent sat opposite on another by one window, while Kiramman sat beside another with Lux next to her. Vi was between them, with Lux on her right and Crescent on the left, trying not to eavesdrop on the conversation.
“Cait, how are you?”
“Doing very well,” Kiramman said. “I qualified for the Diamond class.”
“Ooo,” Lux said, “Can I see?” There was some fumbling as Lux inspected the diamond necklace. “It’s beautiful. You made that?”
“I did,” Kiramman confirmed.
“I’ve missed you, Cait. Court is so boring. They keep talking about crocheting and the weather, and marriage, and gossiping.”
The carriage entered the city. Vi glanced idly outside, curious about the life of the average Demacian. On her other side, Crescent was muttering to Leona, who laughed.
“You ought to visit sometimes,” Kiramman said. “We would love to host you.”
“I would love that too,” Lux said with a sigh. “But I’m supposed to be vetting my suitors, and Father doesn’t want to let me out of his sight until I fulfil my obligation. It’s like he’s afraid I’ll escape from his clutches and mess up all his plans.”
Kiramman laughed. “How’s that going?”
“It’s not going well,” she pulled a face.
“We do have a Guild of Inventors that you might be interested in talking to.”
“Father still doesn’t approve of me tinkering with machinery. Oh, that’s the Golden Tower! Ancient bell tower built three hundred years ago and it’s still standing.”
They all peered out of the window at a tall structure with rounded cap clad in solid gold.
“Tell him you’re visiting a suitor in Zaun,” Kiramman suggested. “I can have a friend back your story up.”
“You would?” Lux said, voice hopeful.
Vi looked away to give them some privacy. On her left, Leona and Crescent were discussing the history of the city, a discussion somehow more intimate than the subject matter suggested. Vi sighed and scrunched up her shoulders, staring straight ahead.
It was going to be a long ride.
Vi was fifteen minutes early. She was in her impeccable white dress uniform, a thinner ceremonial sword buckled at her side, standing outside Kiramman’s door. Her hair had been neatly brushed to one side, showing off the undercut. She felt ridiculous, like a show horse preparing to go through its paces. Leona was already there, brushing dirt off the front of her shirt.
“I hate these things,” Vi grumbled as she rotated her shoulders. “Sleeves never fit right.” She did a half-squat to test her mobility in her trousers.
“Yeah,” Leona grunted as she pulled at the collar, trying to get comfortable.
The doorknob turned and immediately they snapped to attention. Vi saw Crescent first, looking extremely well put-together in a baby blue gown.
“Let’s go,” Kiramman said as she swept past her. She was wearing a lilac dress over her corset, gathered carefully to show her shoulders, the smooth curve of her neck and her slim waist. Her hair was put up in a neat up-do, her necklace hanging conspicuously over her clavicle.
Vi took a deep breath and trailed behind her, trying to keep her eyes off Kiramman’s sashaying hips. She could feel Leona grinning next to her and gave her an icy glare. “Fuck you,” she mouthed.
They descended the stairs. Lux’s birthday party was in full swing. Colorful nobles from all over Demacia and beyond crowded into the ballroom, with the band kicking things off with a lively tune. The kitchen had outdone themselves, providing a whole spread of every imaginable delicacy. Polished heels slid over the mosaic inlaid in the center of the dance floor -- a huge, intricate pattern of rose gold and jade that probably cost more than her childhood home in Baskerville. The royal family was seated at a table on a dais at the furthest end of the room, allowing them to see across the entire floor.
Vi followed the mage as she cut a path towards the royal family, ignoring the stares and murmurs that followed them. They gave their well-wishes to Lux and the King and Queen first. The birthday girl threw her arms around Kiramman, and then warmly shook Vi’s hand. “Enjoy yourselves!” she said. “I’ll look for you later!”
Vi watched as the mages sat in a corner polishing off their food and talking softly amongst themselves. She had taken a bite of each appetizer and was now enjoying a glass of wine.
“Pretty good, isn’t it?” Mylo said. The other two Reds had joined them in the ballroom, leaving the Greens outside to patrol the perimeter.
“Yeah, the food is awesome. We should get better chefs,” Vi responded, not taking her eyes off her charge.
“And a bigger budget,” Leona added from her other side.
“I don’t know what you’re all complaining about,” Tariq commented, smacking his lips and making a face. “Demacian food is way too salty.”
They all turned to him incredulously and he shrugged.
“Enjoy it while you can,” Leona continued. “Tomorrow we’re off out of the capital. We’ll be back on the potato diet.”
They groaned. “In that case,” Mylo stood up, “I’m going to stuff myself full of these eggrolls. Be right back.”
Vi looked around. She had taken her eyes off her charge for a split second and they were gone. She scanned the crowd frantically, trying to get a glimpse of the mages. Fortunately for her, they reappeared shortly, heading towards the group of Reds with Kiramman in front and Crescent closely behind her. Vi and Leona quickly got to their feet, while Tariq made himself scarce. Vi braced herself. The look of Kiramman’s face singularly focused.
“Do you dance, Vi?” she said.
Out of all the things she expected Kiramman to say, this was not one of them. She raised her eyebrows. “Occasionally.”
“Well, would you like to dance?” she said with a tilt of her head as though it was a challenge.
“Absolutely,” Vi couldn’t resist. As Vi led Kiramman to the dance floor, she glanced back to see Leona talking to the shorter mage, who was standing on her tiptoes to hear Leona better.
Vi held out her hand. The band was in the middle of a slow waltz, something Vi could handle. Kiramman gave her a small smile. Vi noted a small gap between her front teeth, which added, if possible, even more character to her face. The music swelled and Vi swept her away with the music.
“So, what’s the game?” Vi asked as she spun Kiramman around. “I know you don’t want to dance. Not with me anyway.”
She saw Kiramman’s eyes dart towards a corner of the room. “Never you mind,” she said tartly.
Vi caught her at the end of a spin, her palm pressed comfortably on Kiramman’s waist. “Hmm. Is this about Crescent?”
Kiramman stepped along with her, allowing Vi to lead her across the floor with ease. “If you must know, Diana thinks your Captain is quite dashing.”
Vi almost burst out laughing. Leona had always attracted attention, but she was also perpetually oblivious. “Good luck to her. Leona doesn’t sleep around though.”
“Neither does Diana,” Kiramman replied. “So, a match made in heaven.”
“And you’re the wingwoman, distracting me while she has her way with my colleague,” Vi teased. “Feels like it’s working out for me.”
Kiramman snorted. “God, you’re insufferable, Captain Elite Red,” Kiramman mimicked her accent.
The song ended, and the band immediately segued into a jaunty tune. Vi grinned.
“Think you can keep up?” She increased her tempo to match the music. Kiramman had one hand on her shoulder, the other in her hand. Her hand clenched around Kiramman’s waist, the ever-present warm aura making her feel hotter under the collar.
“Try me.”
Vi was a serviceable lead at best, but Kiramman was exceptional. She followed Vi’s lead perfectly, stepping and twisting around gracefully her, covering her missteps, making them look far better than they would otherwise. The mage completed a graceful pirouette, her cheeks flushed as she snapped back into Vi’s arms. She eyed the dangling necklace on Kiramman’s neckline, her eyes sliding lower, to where the dress teased the shadow of her cleavage, contained tightly in her corset—
“Up here,” Kiramman said. “Horndog.”
Vi blushed, lifting her chin.
The song rose to a crescendo and finished with a long soulful note. Vi separated from Kiramman and bowed. “My pleasure.”
Kiramman smirked at her. “Likewise.”
“May I have the next dance?” A familiar voice next to her said. She looked up to find the handsome guard from the throne room at her elbow, offering his hand to Kiramman. The mage smiled brightly and took his hand. Vi withdrew to the corner of the room, hoping she wasn’t sweating as much as she thought. God, she hated this collar.
“Captain Lane, right?” came a bubbly voice next to her.
“Your Highness!” Vi bowed low.
Lux beamed at her, wine glass in hand. “Thank you.” After a pause, she added, “you’re a good dancer. Do you want to dance?”
Vi grinned politely. “I would love to, but I can’t. I have to watch over the mages.”
Lux gave a faux sigh. “I guessed as much.” Kiramman and her partner were a little taller, a little more graceful and skilled than everyone else on the floor. They weaved through the crowd flawlessly, effortlessly catching every eye in the room.
“They make such a pair, don’t they?” Lux said.
“Yeah,” Vi replied without taking her eyes of Kiramman.
“They dated for a summer,” Lux informed her. “Amicable break-up.”
Vi watched as Kiramman giggled in his arms, prompting the man to smile in return. “Was there a reason?” Vi asked absent-mindedly.
“She realized she was into women,” Lux supplied with a grin. “And unfortunately, my big beefy brother, for all his delightful qualities, is not one.”
Vi felt her heart speed up at the new information.
“Well, I should go!” Lux waved merrily. “People to meet!”
The song ended and Kiramman gave the man a quick kiss on his cheek. Vi hoped Kiramman actually enjoyed dancing because she had caught the attention of many of the nobles in the room. Many of them were likely wondering who this pretty new foreigner was, and now there was an actual line of people waiting to ask her to dance. Vi watched as she accepted dance after dance, stopping only for a drink. None of her other partners could match the skill of the prince, but not for the lack of trying. Vi watched as she picked woman after woman after woman, sometimes leading, sometimes being led. But finally, Vi watched as she ended a dance with a voluptuous redhead, the other woman leaning up to whisper into her ear as she pulled the mage off the dance floor.
With a sigh, Vi gestured to Mylo, who was talking to several Demacian nobles, and followed behind them.
Vi stood at her familiar spot, back to the wall, wishing that hearing was a completely voluntary action. She could hear Kiramman moan through the stone walls; could feel the bubble of heat ebb and flow as her emotions fluctuated.
“Ah—that’s hot—Sarah—” her voice broke into a low moan.
Kiramman keened. Vi wished they would move to any other wall or to the bed, but they seemed dead set of using the very wall that she was leaning against. This wasn’t the first time that she had stood guard over a lascivious mage having some late-night fun, but it had never affected her like this.
“Fuck, fuck like that—”
Whoever this Sarah was must be really good.
“Fuck, you’re so good with your mouth,” Kiramman whimpered.
It was so hard not to imagine Kiramman backed up against the wall, her corset pulled down in haste, her skirt rucked up at her waist. It was exceptionally hard not to imagine Kiramman bucking up against her, eyes closed in bliss as those sordid moans escaped the mage’s mouth, her actions becoming more and more frantic as she clenched and tensed on Vi’s fingers. It especially did not help that she could feel the pulsing heat emanating from the room in time with her moans. She remembered the intense look Kiramman had when she had lectured Vi and imagined being on her knees under the same stare.
Vi was wet and she knew it.
Kiramman’s voice went slightly higher as she murmured something unintelligible, which Vi imagined was praise for Sarah’s skilled mouth. She felt the heat withdraw, contracting away until it finally snapped back, flushing over her.
Vi hung her head and shook it to clear her mind. The couple moved away from the wall, and thankfully to the bed. A different, high-pitched voice was moaning now. If she had ever wanted to know how good Kiramman was in bed, the answer was evident.
Vi rubbed her brow, crossing the corridor to stand next to Crescent’s door instead. Still the sounds of lovemaking could still be heard. The other woman was much louder and more appreciative than Kiramman was. In her mind, Vi began counting off the fiefdoms of the north to take her mind off the lewd noises. She had just begun on the southern lands when the noise abated. At length, Vi heard shuffling around the room. Then, the door swung open and the red-headed woman appeared in the doorway.
“Oh,” she startled when she saw Vi.
“Ma’am,” Vi dipped her head as the woman scurried past, gown askew.
“Captain?” Kiramman was flushed, her hair falling out of her previously neat up-do. She was wrapped in her robes, one hand holding it shut. “Did you hear—”
“Yes,” Vi could not quite meet her eyes. “I did. You knew—”
“Yes.”
“You were briefed—”
“Yes,” Kiramman pinched the bridge of her nose. “I was.”
“Did you—”
“Yes, I forgot. Apologies, Captain.” Kiramman retreated and slammed her door shut.