Chapter Text
The cities never touched, save for one bridge that connected the two.
Piltover on top, where the air was cleaner, a cool iced tea on a hot summer day.
Zaun on the bottom, where the air could burn your lungs, chain smoking a pack of cigarettes.
Piltover might have smelled better, looked cleaner, and was touched by the sun, but it was rotten at its core. Pristine buildings that never told the truth, makeup hiding away a dirty face.
Lights fill the sidewalks that were free of grime, but not free of sin.
I stood at my window, overlooking the streets below with a sour taste in my mouth. I hate this city most days, but at night I hate it even more.
At night I can see the bodies this city stuffs in its walls, blood seeping the streets.
I sigh and light a cigarette I didn't want. It tastes like regret and bad decisions, but I've already made so many of those, what's one more?
The letter on my desk reflected for a moment in the glass, along with a face I didn't want to see.
My own.
A hardened face. A permanent frown. One eye forever closed. One eye empty.
Grimacing I spun away, walking back towards my desk, picking up the letter once again. It smelled familiar, cherry perfume, and a hint of red wine.
There's only one person I know that would send me a letter doused in perfume. A certain council member I could almost call family.
Mel Medarda. One heck of a woman. Strong willed, vibrant, deadly, a viper. A viper who could talk her way out and into anything or anyone.
'Caitlyn' It started,
'I didn't do it. I know you will believe me. 1346 West. Olive street. 3 ticks and you're in. I know you'll get me out. Stillwater is no place for me.
With love-Mel'.
I inhaled deep, blew out smoke that ghosted over the letter, caressing it.
She didn't do it. Mel isn't the type of woman to get her hands dirty like this. However, fingers aren't pointed without a purpose.
I just had to find that purpose.
A car rolled by outside, headlights lighting up the streets. The only noise during this quiet night.
I walked back to the window, watching it fade into the distance.
My father. Gone. Not dead? Maybe. Most likely. But with no body or proof I knew I'd have to see this case through. See people don't just disappear without a reason. I'm sure he was taken, by whom? I don't know, could be anyone.
This town is full of rats and most of them aint down in the sewers.
Two council members' husbands taken and one left with the smoking gun. Seemed too easy. Too careless. And Medarda was anything but.
Vicious, yes. Vile, on bad days. Careless? Never.
An outsider becoming a council member was unheard of. When Heimerdinger stepped down and she stepped up, she seemed eager, yes, but not dictatorial.
But what do I know? I was betrayed once before, and like I said this city is full of rats.
Another car rolled by outside, but slower, and then it stopped. Right outside my building.
It sat running, as if waiting for something or someone.
I stared. The old streetlight began to flicker and the driver side door opened. A tall man, wearing an old coat and a top hat stepped out.
Walked over to the passenger side and that's when I saw it. The insignia reflected on his coat.
And I knew who he was opening the door for before she even stepped out of the car.
A refined woman, in dark clothing stepped out, said something to the driver and turned. The driver walked back, slid in the car and slowly pulled away, but I was stuck staring at the woman who stepped out.
Smoke filled my vision, the red of my cigarette lighting my face, as I stared into eyes that matched my own.
My mother. Cassandra Kiramman. Council woman. Mother. Wife.
Sometimes my nightmares.
Compassionate isn't a word I'd pair to my mother, but to Cassandra? Oh she was compassionate alright.
Outspoken for Zaun, fought for (figuratively) its independence when I was too young to understand.
Too blind, more so than I am now, to the truth of the world.
But as a mother she was anything but. Cold, distant, and most times unreachable. And I tried very hard to reach.
The knock rattled me for a moment, too busy in my head these days.
Sighing I passed my desk, stubbed out the cigarette, hid the letter and walked downstairs.
The click of the lock sounded loud, like a gunshot as I opened the door for my mother.
Or was she here as Cassandra?
We stared for a brief moment, before I stepped to the side, gestured with my arm, letting her pass, closing the door to walk behind her.
My building was modest, a two story with a double room upstairs, a waiting room, a small kitchen to the left and a room to the right.
It had a locked door and no window, a simple table with a chair on each side. I unlocked it and let her in, taking a seat on the right side of the table.
Pulled out another cigarette, but quickly shut down that idea after she gave me a look.
I took out my little black book and gestured to the other chair.
She looked around, judging silently such as she always did, but sat anyways.
She looked tired, up close. I could see the clench of her jaw and the redness she tried to hide in her eyes.
Shit.
"You didn't call."
She pursed her lips, "I wasn't sure you would answer."
"Fair."
I could tell the honesty struck her, but it was a brief moment. Eyes hardened.
"They gave you the case?"
"I don't need permission anymore."
"Right. I forget, sometimes."
"Right." A silence filled the room, not suffocating, but persistent.
"Why are you here?"
"Caitlyn, you know damn well why I'm here."
"No. Why me- and not the police?"
She paused. I couldn't decipher the look on her face. I'm not sure I want to.
"He's your father, not theirs'. He is still your father, correct?"
Ouch.
"Yes, he is. Start from the beginning and don't leave anything out."
She pulled out a letter from her purse, a crumpled thing. On a white piece of paper, cutouts of words from magazines or movie posters spelling out sentences.
I read it and re-read it a couple times.
'Step down from the council or we will show you what true pain means.'
Seemed simple enough, but nothing is ever simple in this life. Or this city. Or the one under.
"When did it arrive?"
"About 3 o'clock Tuesday evening," It was Friday today. "At first we thought some kind of physical assault, but not this."
"We?"
"Oh Mr. Lane got one too." Ah Mr. Silco Lane. The Zaunite representative on the council.
Too much history to share, too much blood spilled, and not enough graves for the bodies.
Zaun gained independence from Piltover. Took a week. The rest of it? History. Bloody, complicated, and not useful tonight.
"You're telling me Mr. Lane got the same exact copy?"
"Yes, I read his copy and he read mine. The only one who didn't get a copy was Mel Medarda."
I rub my good eye, already feeling tired. Damn I really want to smoke.
"Alright. I'll get in touch with Mr. Lane, tomorrow. In the meantime can you give me fathers whereabouts from Tuesday to this morning, when you were notified he was gone."
Her jaw clenched again and it struck me then, how much my mother loves her husband.
She was trying not to cry.
I don't remember a time I've ever seen my mother cry, but as I looked at her now, tired, older, eyes red, tears forming, I had to look away.
Seeing this unreachable woman, be reached by something.
And so she went, a full account of my fathers whereabouts from Tuesday till this morning. She spared nothing, like I knew she would. It took an hour, but I had a solid timeline written down.
I flipped my book shut, stuffed my pin in my pocket and stood.
It was time for a stiff drink and then bed.
She stood and looked at me with another emotion I could not place. It's hard, you see, to place emotions on someone when you've never see it on them before.
So we stared at one another, mother to daughter.
Kiramman to Kiramman.
Legacy to Legacy.
I broke the connection, walked over to the door and opened it.
She walked out, but before she got to the front door, I said something that I regret to this day, a mistake disguised as a promise.
"I'll find him."
The door opened, the cool, crisp air filtered in, as she stepped out, car already parked in front, waiting. But she turned and I was five again, looking up at my hero, my own eye getting misty as she replied,
"I know."
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