It felt strange to take someone else with her on duty other than Vi, but Caitlyn supposed that if they wanted to continue working effectively as a pair, they should figure how best to operate without the help of the other and make sure they could still work with others. A childish idea on the surface, perhaps, but Caitlyn liked to make sure her fundamentals remained in perfect condition. Vi had loudly protested against the plan, but when she finally relented Caitlyn believed she would be the better off of the two when they took off on their own individual duties.
The sheriff clearly didn't factor in the difficulties of working with a magical plant-turned-human, who could sometimes prove more stubborn than the enforcer on a bad day. Piltover's Finest easily went wherever they pleased, from narrow crawlspaces to the tops of skyscrapers, but Zyra could not claim to be nearly as mobile. She struggled to move anywhere higher than ground level, as she told Caitlyn how her movement restricted itself to whether her legs could sense soil beneath her feet or not. That meant that she hardly spent any time indoors, preferring to stay outside and in direct contact with sunlight if possible. She could still access most of the Institute's ground floor, but towards the center, where the summoners had expanded the building underground and dug away the soil, she could not go.
If Zyra did have to move through an area not close to soil, she would intermittently spawn tufts of grass or flowers beneath her feet as she walked, creating quite the bothersome trail to deal with and making reconnaissance work from the roofs of buildings nearly impossible. Zyra had one saving grace in regards to her movement, fortunately - she could summon vines from out of her hands to allow Caitlyn to cross gaps between areas that she could not otherwise cross.
It made for much more complicated inquisitorial work than usual, but since Zyra had been the one with her when High Councillor Kolminye encountered her, they had chosen to merely assimilate her into the program and keep her around Caitlyn so the Rise of the Thorns wouldn't do anything rash. She was grateful that she had somehow developed a friendship with the plant sorceress - a being with such primal energy would bring nothing but trouble if ticked off the wrong way.
Under the pretense of drinking their favorite Ionian tea on the open-air balcony of Hyona's, the traditional Ionian street corner shop at the Institute, the Piltoverian and the plant reclined in their straw-thatched chairs and watched as champions exited the Trial Building from across the way, named because it housed the summoning chambers, as well as all of the equipment needed to create the virtual combat that they called League matches.
They had come to the tea house just in time to catch the last few minutes of a match taking place between the champions of Demacia and the champions assembled by the Winter's Claw, the latter of which had contested several acres of land in the northwestern reaches of Valoran. No cartographer had drawn clear territorial lines in the grey area close to Demacian, the Avarosan lands, and the scattered patches of ice that the Winter's Claw clung to, but while Ashe had happily withdrawn her claim, Sejuani insisted on fighting it out.
"It is strange, don't you think?" Zyra asked as they noticed the prince of Demacia exit from the double doors alongside Garen Crownguard, Jarvan shaking his head sadly as they quickly left the area and headed back towards the Demacian wing. "The first of the fighters to come out of the north and join the League are the ones who now sit atop their throne of ice. Queen Ashe had been one of the very first to become champions, if I recall."
"That is right, but I wouldn't say that's too far-fetched," Caitlyn argued, watching Vayne exit the doors with her trademark red shades still on, her pace much quicker than that of her support, Sona, who watched the Night Hunter leave the grounds unceremoniously. Her etwahl seemed to droop along with her shoulders, mirroring the maven's mood as she silently floated on her way and soon passed out of sight. "Her role as the leader of the Avarosan was not her only claim to fame, nor was it the only foothold she had in her rise to power. The legend of the Frost Archer is well known even outside Freljordian circles, and even if one might deny Ashe's claim to the throne, there is no mistaking the enchanted bow and the crystal arrows she wields."
"But think of the other possibilities if the war had ended some other way," Zyra continued "No doubt Ashe is a strong and formidable ruler, but she has trained herself to act more like a typical ruler should, like you would see a king of Demacia or a general of Noxus. There is something lacking in her, none of the primal energy that I sense within Sejuani or even the Ice Witch, both of which could rule with even more strength. Freljord has a history much older than the highly populated regions of Runeterra, and I cannot help but think Ashe received a surprisingly large amount of help in securing her throne."
Caitlyn sensed that Zyra believed she had hit at something. "I hope you realize that you cannot simply go up to an officer with such language and not expect to be taken into interrogation. Tell me what you are insinuating."
The plant sorceress smirked, reaching for the mug of tea to sip from it before turning back to Caitlyn. "Always by the book, aren't you, officer? Very well. You must realize that, ever since the Institute had officially recognized Ashe and Tryndamere as the rulers of the Freljord, the Demacians have since eagerly hurried to enter formal diplomatic relations with the fledgling government. Noxus has not shown the same enthusiasm, but had things turned out differently they may have been more eager. Even your own Piltover, if I understand correctly, has sent an envoy there swiftly after their official coronation. Tell me, would you have leapt at the opportunity so quickly had Sejuani, for instance, taken the throne?"
Caitlyn found herself at a loss for words, even though she tried to maintain an image of impartiality when dealing with all kinds of people. It came with the responsibility of being an agent of the law, but when she had learned of Sejuani's history, how she had chosen war over peace and refused to join forces with Ashe, then Caitlyn, alongside many others, had instinctively drawn away from the Winter's Wrath. Little good could come from associating with such a volatile personality, and though she didn't want to admit it to Zyra after she put her on the spotlight, Caitlyn feared the Freljordian.
"I… in accordance with diplomatic protocol, we would have sent an envoy within a few days, of course," she tried to say.
"Of course you would. But you would not have approached them with the optimistic attitude you had when you saw that the kind, the gentle, the delicate Ashe had won out. This is the crux of my argument, Sheriff. The queen's early entrance into the League was no mere coincidence. The summoners that have brought us here hold quite an extensive interest in the frigid north, something they believe that the reign of Ashe and Tryndamere can bring them. That is why they were first amongst the northerners to be brought here, and while they may have amassed an army powerful enough to hold their ground against the Winter's Claw and the Frostguard, I do not doubt that the Institute had brought some of their influence into the snowgrounds."
"And you're telling me we got caught up in this security business on the pretense of making sure no trouble happens at the ball, because the High Councillors have some overseas interests to watch for in the Freljord?" Caitlyn asked her.
"Overglacial would be a more apt term, but that is correct," Zyra agreed. "I do not know what they might be looking for, but it is clear to me that they are depending on Ashe and Tryndamere to do more than just rule the Freljord."
The woman of thorns ceased laying out her hypothesis for a second as they turned their attention back to the doors where the team of the Winter's Claw had just exited the Trial Building. First out came the cyborg-human, the Machine Herald, who had the sentient rat marksman Twitch nipping at his heels, a glazed excitement in his eyes as he struggled to keep up with Viktor's long strides. Caitlyn gave a slightly miffed sniff of the air. Recruiting the likes of Zaunites to assist them, considering that the Winter's Claw could not field a champion for all five positions, made sense, but it still caused feelings of uneasiness knowing that Sejuani had looked to the rivals of Piltover to fill in such gaps.
The ones that Caitlyn and Zyra had wanted to look out for took the longest time in actually exiting the building, a behavior that the sheriff thought strange. But here they came, bringing up the rear of the pack. Sejuani walked alongside her boar mount, her trademark mace stowed in the saddle as she conversed with a man who stood at least four inches shorter than her. Amongst the battle-hardened fighters who gravitated towards the top lane, Caitlyn considered the Lokfarian called Olaf the most fearsome of them all. All marksmen knew to stay clear of Darius, who could easily cut through an entire team if they came too close to his axe, and to keep an eye out for Jax, who would knock down a foe with a few quick strikes of his lamppost while simultaneously invalidating their own attacks, but once Olaf had set his sights upon someone, they had no way to keep their distance from him nor repel his onslaught, leaving them only one choice: to stand their ground and fight. And close quarters were no place for a sharpshooter who had the battle strategy of keeping her enemies at arms' length.
Caitlyn didn't quite understand how the battle-hardened axewielder had stumbled into an alliance with one of the most uncompromising women in all Runeterra. She knew of the berserker's mission statement, how he joined the ranks of the League of Legends looking for a worthy battle to finally send him to the afterlife. Obviously he had not seemed to find one yet, but it appeared that he saw something in the Winter's Claw that might eventually bring him his glorious death. She didn't pay much to the debacle. Chasing death your entire life was nothing but a ridiculous barbarian custom, Caitlyn observed.
Today the arctic duo acted a lot chummier than they usually did. Although Caitlyn could not hear the subject of their conversation, their body language looked a lot more relaxed than their typical behavior. The boar rider even went so far as to place a glove hand on Olaf's shoulder, a gesture which evoked a bark of laughter from the barbarian. Caitlyn furrowed her eyebrows. Something had to be up.
"What do you see, dear Sheriff?" Zyra poked at her. "Surely I cannot be the only one out of us to deduce things from our surroundings."
"It's not exactly the most incriminating of actions." Caitlyn sat up a little straighter in her chair, making sure that she could catch every miniscule movement the two Freljordians made. "But it's something to take note of, considering how stiff these two usually act, at least in public." Olaf had gestured towards a pathway which would lead them behind the Trial Building, and they shortly made their way out of sight behind a couple of dark green hedges.
"Shall we follow them?" her thorny friend asked.
Caitlyn shook her head. "Not necessary. They haven't done anything to actually be concerned about. Besides, we'll have to meet up with Vi later tonight over dinner to pass information. I wonder if she's found anything useful. We've tried, although not very hard as of yet…"
"Ah yes, at that one establishment. I do hope the Crossing is not too packed today. Too many bright lights and sounds are not too good for my pigment," Zyra mused.
"It is the most popular restaurant at the Institute, so I can't promise anything about the crowds. We won't stay long, in any case, provided I stop Vi at four pints or so."
"It is difficult to decline the gift of intoxication, I understand," Zyra said. "You humans are all much too interesting to ignore."
Caitlyn had heard of some ridiculous practices amongst the upper class in Piltover, like dressing up the house pets in little tuxedos and dresses, but she didn't suppose anyone would ever consider fitting a gown on one of their potted plants. But there Zyra stood in front of her, clad in a stunning low-cut crimson dress to go with her fiery hair. The garment ran down to the top of her ankles, slit down the side to display a generous amount of leg, but only when the sorceress permitted it. White gloves covered up her thorny hands and nails, and sleeves with golden trim made sure to hide every other trace of her former life as a plant. If Caitlyn didn't know better, she might have labeled Zyra as one of those Noxian heiresses, as beautiful as they were dangerous, groomed from an early age to handle the highest levels of society.
"Do you like what you see, sheriff?" the sorceress teased as they stood a few paces from the long line, garnering a few looks from summoners and other employees of the Institute. Most of the attention went to Zyra and her much more appealing outfit. although Caitlyn had taken some time to dress for the occasion as well. She had on a modest purple dress with a decently low neckline and a tourmaline necklace to match her eyes, but for the most part she disliked selecting outfits solely for the spectacle factor and had put on a beige jacket to combat the night air.
"I did not realize how well you pull off human clothing," Caitlyn told Zyra. "Perhaps you are more accustomed to our ways than I thought."
Zyra gave her a smile that would not look out of place plastered on a supermodel posing for a swimsuit issue of one of Piltover's trending magazines. "You'd be surprised," she said cryptically, leaving Caitlyn to wonder what the Rise of the Thorns did in her spare time for a few moments before she heard her name being called over the ruckus of the crowd. In the dim glow of the restaurant's outside lights, Caitlyn could make out the raised hand of Jayce waving at them.
"There's our ticket in," she told the plant woman, gesturing for Zyra to follow as Caitlyn wove through the throng of people to meet up with the Piltover scientist who would allow them to bypass the long lines thanks to his connections with the manager of the restaurant. "Thank you again for the favor, Jayce."
"The pleasure is all mine, Cait. You're looking mighty fine tonight," he said as his gaze quickly turned to Caitlyn's much more exotic companion. His incredulous look went through phases of confusion, skepticism, and wonder before Zyra chose to break the silence.
"Before you choke on your own words, inventor, perhaps it is best you bring the sheriff and myself into the building," she suggested. "Then you can get a much better look at me."
Jayce gulped, nervously scratching his head before heading towards the door. "Uh, yeah, that's a good idea. Let's get inside, then. Right this way, ladies!" he gestured with an overdone motion of his hands.
Caitlyn learned that they would find their table on the second floor, and so she followed Jayce's strides towards the winding staircase at the end of the establishment. Unsurprisingly, the Crossing already had every single table on the ground floor filled, the majority of the population consisting of Institute staff, but she did catch sight of a few of her fellow champions, such as the Ionian trio of Lee Sin, Master Yi, and Wukong, the notorious criminal duo of Twisted Fate and Malcolm Graves, and most surprisingly, the Prophet of the Void nonchalantly striking a conversation with the large figure of the Darkin, Aatrox.
She had pulled away from her company a few seconds to greet Leona sitting at a table with several of the other bot lane supports, extending her well-wishes to Janna, Karma, and the gem knight, who had all excitedly shared with the sheriff about the great news which had happened to their favorite sword-and-shield sunlit sentinel. Caitlyn expressed her approval of Pantheon, knowing the stalwart warrior's emphasis on honorable behavior and protocol… at least on the battlefield. For her friend's sake, she hoped he exhibited similar conduct off it.
"The table should be right here, next to the window," Jayce told them, but as they came up to the meeting, instead of seeing her pink-haired companion seated at her chair, Caitlyn found Vi hunched over an unconscious figure, a cold hull of metal and breathing apparatus emanating purple spasms of energy. It took her a while, but Caitlyn recognized it as Kassadin, the champion with which Vi had worked the whole day.
Jayce came to his senses first and dashed over to the enforcer. "What happened?" he asked, kneeling down to take a look at Kassadin.
"Wish I could tell you," Vi grunted. Seeing Caitlyn, she quickly stood up. "Jayce, plant lady, you guys need to take care of Kassadin. Cait, the only lead I've got is that those sketchy Freljordians were here thirty seconds ago."
Zyra wanted to speak up in protest of the crude label, but Caitlyn silenced her with a raised hand. "Which way did they go?" the sheriff inquired.
Vi pointed a gauntleted hand at another staircase, leading even higher up the building. "Rooftops. No time to waste here. Let's get cracking."
A/N: it's hard to continually come up with labels for Zyra that don't sound ridiculous. also I hope the little political intrigue doesn't come off as a stretch, I needed a basis for things to happen within the Freljord parties which could relate to the Institute.
if I keep up with 3k words a day I'll be sure to make NaNoWriMo's deadline... ha.
things will start to happen but I also need to introduce a lot more pairings for the ball, I hope they won't clash too much.