A/N- Hey fam, hope all is well. Just to let you all know for July I will be in the busiest period of work, so I may not have a lot of time to work on the sheriff and the soldier for the next little while. I will do my best to crack away at it while I am waiting in between airports, soundchecks and shows, and hiking in the mountains with my partner in crime and beta reader WG Karibu. Considering that he and I theory craft quite a lot while we walk, it might be a good idea as now we are getting to the real meat and potatoes! Also I am hoping that I can have the next chapter for start/End out soon. Cross your fingers, this writer has got a lot of stuff to do! As always, thank you all for your support and I hope you enjoy.
PS-My cats are enjoying the writing time since my laptop is warm and my arms are in a perfect position for maximum snuggles. Karibu loses his shit and calls me the best cat mom every time. I need a mug like that. Sincerely, a dog person.
{Julie Fowlis- Oran Fir Heisgeir (Gura Mis'Tha Fo Mhighean}
(Two days Later)
The fog settles along the gulch and around the ankles of the mourners. Like a tide of the ocean, the mourners are dressed all in black as they bring each casket to be given to the boatman. Those of Bilgewatian descent send their dead to the sea, where the salt will claim their bodies to reunite with the water they all loved so much. The pallbearers grunt as they lift Alex's casket into the boat.
Gerald Kelly stands beside Abigail Preston. His pipe rests against his weathered lips as smoke billows out. He stares quietly at the casket he made. Etched in the driftwood, just like Alex's father's casket, is the young man's life story. The tales of his life twine around the pale wood with grandeur double cutlasses, ships breaking waves, streets littered with hextech, battles on dark fields. It all surrounded a name and a small sailor's hymn to keep Alexander Preston's body company as he makes his journey to his afterlife.
The sea will be pleased to embrace it's newly parted sons and daughters. Many had perished in the attack, causing heartache among the survivors. The company will be getting a trainload of new orphans to join the ranks to replace the ones they had lost in the battles of the Piltovian streets.
Sobs could be heard among the group of mourners. Mothers wailed, fathers cursed, siblings now left alone to take on the evils of the world.
How long had it been, when the two of them had watched their own parents' caskets drift off with the boatman?
Now she is alone, to carry on, just as she did when she was eleven years old.
Her chocolate brown eyes watched as the casket bobbed with each stroke of the boatman's oars. "What has lived, will die. What has fought, will be at peace. What has toiled, will now rest. By the mother of sea and the father of land, keep my brother's soul safe along his journey." She whispered, brushing strands of loose rose hair behind a freckled ear. Tears lined her irises; she will not cry for Alex's sake. She could see him laughing at her.
What the hell is wrong with ya? Don't fucking cry ya wuss.
"He was a wiley lad, with adventure in his heart and trouble in his veins." Gerald breathed as he cleared his throat. He wiped an old weathered hand along his chin as he hiked the collar of his fishing jacket up to his salt and pepper beard. " The spirits won't be able to handle his Tomfoolery."
"No, they will not," Abbie replied softly, watching as the boatman drifted off into the misty banks of fog and out of eyesight completely. A relative of someone departed broke out into an ominous fisherman's hymn. The mourners, recognizing the tune, sang along, their throats raw with sobs as they wished their loved ones with sad farewells.
Dakota stood stoically beside Matais, watching the procession with steel like reserve. Her white-gloved hands were clasped behind her back as she stood at attention. Her white brimmed officer's cap lay flatly on the crown of her head. The uniform jacket was as black as midnight. Polished gold buttons and cufflinks adorned the black canvas, gleaming in the low light of the sun hidden behind the dark clouds above.
"I need a drink," she muttered lowly. Matais could see the anxiety crawling around her body. She avoided all eye contact with the Ionian and any of the mourners turning their backs to return to the city.
They watched as Abbie leaned into Gerald Kelly as Alex was released into the sea.
Something clenched in Dakota's heart as the finality of Alex became more apparent.
He was never coming back.
Elric was never coming back.
"I need to get out of here." She mumbled to no one in particular. "I can feel myself fucking falling apart."
She could feel the panic rising to her throat threatening to clinch the air from her lungs. What was steel like reserve was now a desperate plea to leave.
Matais nodded slowly before he put a gentle calming touch to the middle of her back. "We will leave shortly. We must wait for Abbie." He reminded. He relinquished his hand, returning it to his side, unsure of the kind of contact she could continue handling.
"I- I can't." Something in her voice threatened to crack, making her sound like a small child being forced to face a deep fear of the darkness. "I can't be near her, Matais. She'll- fuck, I don't even know what she'll do."
"Breathe through your nose. Center yourself. I won't let her trap you, Dakota." Matais promised as he watched the redhead, pull a large wool cowl tightly around her shoulders. It was the first time he had seen her wear a dress. It was made out of a very thin material and reminded him of he dresses his mother used to wear when his father and himself would return from the sea. It was a long sleeved dark green piece that flourished out to her ankles. Ornate golden embroidery of a Kraken and a sea of roses was placed along the top of her hips to her shoulders, hiding underneath the black knit cowl.
She had leaned into Gerald as she walked the rocky shore, hiking her dress up to ensure she would not trip on the material. Matais was glad to see she had been wearing her usual dark brown leather boots.
Matais walked forward placing his forearm out in a gentlemanly manner. Abbie gratefully took the limb and gave a sad smile to the Ionian.
"I'll be off now, lass." He quickly leaned in and hugged the young woman tightly. "Please let me know if you need a hand wit' anything. Especially with the wee one on the way."
Abbie nodded as she gently returned the embrace. She then returned to Matais's side and hugged the cowl around her more tightly to fend off the sea breeze."Of course, Gerald. I hope to see you around the city. Be careful on your way back to Bilgewater."
"Trust me, Lass, I will not be far. Piltover will soon be in the market for rations and I believe it would be fitting for a fish merchant like myself to be makin' worthy of such an opportunity." He winked as he puffed a grand plume of smoke from his pipe and began to turn himself toward the direction of the docks. "Farewell, for now, love." He called over his shoulder as he hobbled away.
"One down," Abbie sighed as she gripped onto the Ionian's forearm. "Another to go."
Matais gave a reassuring touch to one of her freckled hands as he began to lead them back toward the city. "Caitlyn arranged for one of her officer's to come pick us up and take us to Elric."
The redhead nodded slowly. "Thank you for being here. I know Alex would've made fun of all of this, that bastard."
The Ionian gave a surprised snort. "Indeed. It would be an incessant annoyance."
Abbie could hear the under tone in his voice. "I miss him too."
Matais swallowed. He did his best to hold down his emotions that threatened to bubble from his chest. If Abbie had been paying more attention she would have seen the slow pulse of the purple vine tattoos that glowed under his dark skin.
"Wasn't Dakota with you?" Abbie murmured as she quickly tried to hide the fact that she was wiping a tear away from her cheek.
"She was, yes. I believe she wanted to walk to the cemetery, to give her a moment to think." He easily lied in reply.
"Hmm, I need to speak with her."
"I know. She has been quite adamant to avoid you at any means necessary. She is quite afraid of you."
The redhead hummed impatiently. They continued their way off of the rocky Piltovian harbour shore. Mourners followed like a silent river in their dark clothing and sniffling.
The young soldier had no need to fear the redhead. Of course, she had been hard on the young girl and even mildly unfair. However, Elric had never fully believed in giving a firm hand toward his sister, and rather than watching the military punish the stubborn girl, Abbie had stepped in to become the disciplinary force that Dakota and Alex both needed.
She wondered if it was even worth it in all honesty. She wondered if she maybe instead of disciplining her brother, she should have been closer to him; take part in some of his rascal adventures. Did she do enough to make Alex feel loved? Did she do enough to make him feel like he was raised in enough balance?
She placed her right hand along her abdomen. Would she do a good enough job raising Elric's child without him there?
Her heart panged deeply as grief coursed through her veins.
Matais stopped suddenly and pulled the young woman into a tight embrace. Her head easily fit into the crook of his neck.
Since when did he start to become the one to be the first to hug?
Since when did she start sobbing?
She gained control of herself as she pulled away.
"My feet are killing me." She murmured softly.
Matais gave a slight side smile. "Let's keep moving then."
And onward she would keep going.
***********************************************************/)(\*******************************************
{Oh wonder-Technicolour Beat}
(5 hours later)
She sits at the dilapidated base of the clocktower. Beside her is a very cheap bottle of Demacian wine. She had found the bottle in the ruins of some statesman's manor during her roaming of Piltover. It had been an uncorked bottle caught in between marble, concrete and solid oak.
It wasn't her first choice, but beggars can't be choosers in this case.
The dark bottle is now a quarter empty(an effect of slowly drinking throughout the day). Her uniform jacket is completely unbuttoned and her tie is loose around her neck. Her cap is somewhere most likely floating on the Piltovian bay. Her polished boots are now scuffed with white plaster and stone and her white gloves most likely lost from her small walk.
She studies the looming orange sky above her, trying to imagine how it looked before the attack. At this moment she misses the clocktower even more. She would do anything to ascend the wood and granite creation of her mother, and glare at the sky from the top.
People milled around the clock tower, doing their best to make their way across the city or to start rebuilding. All of them paid no mind to the soldier obviously looking ready to either fight or pass out depending on how one looked at her.
One of Caitlyn's officers had spotted her earlier and had tried his best to get the soldier on her feet and back to the barracks. However, a hurled stone and a slur of insults to the officer's mother made him back down and leave the soldier be.
"Hey," A familiar voice began. The voice then sat next to the soldier, pulling the collar of their leather jacket up over their ears to fight off the cold wind breeze that pushed through the city.
Rain was on the way.
"What are you doing here, Vi?"
"Well, you see, one of the rookies came over to file a report to the sheriff. He mentioned something about a drunken disturbance at the remains of the clock tower and gave me a perfect description of someone familiar." Vi brushed her hands off the loose rock and debris as she made herself more comfortable next to the raven-haired girl. "And rather than having my fiancee worry more than she already is, I took the report off the good lad and lied about how I would give it to the sheriff."
The soldier huffed as she grabbed her bottle and took a large swig. The liquid burned down her throat and left a sour oaky note along her tongue. Even in her slightly inebriated state, she could still notice how terrible the taste was.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it." Vi reached for the dark bottle. "So, the question is, will you be going to Ionia?"
Dakota passed it to the pinkette, who gave an appreciative nod toward the bottle. "Yep. Hoping to ship off tomorrow night. Just need to make sure your Fiancee and the General feel that I am fit enough for battle." Dakota spat.
"Well when they do give you the a-okay, make sure to knock some Noxian heads around for me when you are over there, eh? And keep your fucking hands up." The deputy took a large swig. "Oof, that'll put some hair on your chest. Fucking hells." She murmured under her breath as she spat to the side.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure they know you send your regards." The soldier chuckled. "Maybe I might learn a thing or two and bring it back, so I can finally win a round against you."
Vi gave a loud laugh. "Kid, I'll be seventy and still kicking your ass."
"Yeah, we'll see."
"Send letters and keep us updated," Vi suggested as she brought her knees up to her chest and patted Dakota's shoulder. "I know she's not your favourite right now, but, Cait is practically clawing at the walls scared to death. You should probably try to talk with her before you leave."
Dakota snorted. "Sure thing, Vi."
"I mean it, kid. You really hurt her."
The brawler passed the bottle to the girl, who accepted it gratefully. "Yeah well, if she were in my shoes, I'm pretty sure she'd be in the same corner as me."
The two of them sat in a moment of silence watching the way the clouds moved against the sunset glow of the debris field.
"How long have you been here, kiddo?"
The soldier took a swig and wiped her mouth with her uniform sleeve. She looked to the bottle and then back to Vi. "A few hours."
The pinkette nodded thoughtfully. "I didn't see you at Elric's funeral." She gauged the raven-haired girl's reaction and watched as she took another large swig. "It was nice. He's next to your parents. Abbie picked out a beautiful headstone."
Dakota nodded. "We promised each other a very long time ago that if one of us didn't make it, we wouldn't…" She took a moment to swallow and push down the panicky feeling of falling apart. She centred herself and focused on keeping her heart beat slow and steady; not erratic "We didn't get to see our parents get buried. So we promised that we wouldn't go to each other's. You know, continue the tradition even if we made it to when we were old and gray." She took another large swig, praying that the effects of slowly day drinking would start muffling the thoughts in her head. She hoped that the feeling of wanting to scream so loud that her eardrums ruptured would go away with each swallow.
"I always thought it would be me," Dakota confessed as she leaned her head back into the granite rubble. "I thought it would be me he was burying. Not the other fucking way around."
The two of them sat in silence. Many times in Vi's life she had thought the same thing. She had outlived many friends, many enemies and even mentors. It was always a bittersweet feeling that nipped at the back of her head during her bad days.
Some would call it survivor's guilt.
"Look, kid, expectations are nothing but fucking let downs." Vi looked forward and placed her forearms along her knee caps. "Life is a nasty bitch, Dakota. She'll throw badly crossed wires at you just to make her feel 'exciting' and 'interesting', but sometimes I think it's utter horseshit."
"It honestly is." Dakota agreed as she took another swig.
"Sampson!"
The soldier's head snapped at the angry call of her last name. The feeling of vomiting instantly hit her gut as Abbie stomped her way toward the two sitting hextechnologists.
"Gods almighty, you've pissed off a pregnant woman." Vi muttered as she quickly stood herself up. "Fuck this, I'm out. I'll see you later, kiddo. We'll talk and drink more if you're up for it."
"Fuck you for leaving me alone to the sea monster." Dakota murmured hotly as she took another swig. "Better fucking take this before Abbie breaks it and holds it at my neck."
She passed the bottle to Vi. "Good call." With that the brawler took off at a fast pace, knowing full well the possible atomic bomb of an argument preparing itself to explode. Nothing was worse than suffering the radiation of getting caught up in a screaming match between two mourning women.
"Where were you?" Abbie called, worry clear in her vocal tone. She was still in her dark woollen cowl and dark green dress. The bottom of the material was covered in mud and black soot. "Matais and I had been looking for you all day and here you are drinking? Seriously, Dakota, you were too cowardly to go to his funeral?"
"Fuck off, Abbie. Turn around and go home!"
"What are you so afraid of?' The red head sauntered forward to be face to face with the soldier. She towered over the girl and pushed at her shoulder. The soldier rolled her eyes and tried to turn away but Abbie was having none of it. "Answer me!"
"Abbie I am warning you. Please leave me alone." Parts of her voice started to crack.
"Are you afraid that I am mad at you or something?"
"Fucking go away," Dakota snarled lowly, her shoulders rising defensively as stress boiled itself to the edge of her spine.
"Are you afraid that I'll hurt you?"
"Abbie-" The warning is cut off as the redhead pushes the soldier again.
"Are you afraid that I'm going to blame you? "
"Yes! Absolutely, Abigail. Because every fucking time we trained, it was always me being the weakest link. It was always me that needed to be punished for simple mistakes. I can't fucking think that you will let me off easily because our brothers died and I wasn't there to help them. You know what I was doing when that tower fell?" Dakota roared. "Fighting for my fucking life. And I had no idea of how much danger they were in! I had not a single fucking clue, because Illya was trying to kill me. Do you know how much that fight keeps replaying in my head?!"
"Dakota…"
"I fucking hate how that snake kept me distracted enough that my brother and Alex got killed without me. I didn't want to be anywhere near you because the last thing I want right now is to think about stances, or how I could have done better. The only thing I want to think about is putting that Bitch's head on a pike and bringing it back to the gates of Piltover!"
Dakota's shoulders shook as she finished her screaming spree. She took a moment to control her rapid breathing. Her heart rammed against her chest making the dread like feeling that was starting to become a constant feeling, centre more in the middle of her back.
Rain started to patter gently along the rubble of the clock tower behind her
"Do you think I don't feel guilty?" Abbie started softly. "While all of you were fighting, I was stuck in a bunker with a bunch of terrified civilians, because your brother ordered me to. It killed me that I wasn't there with you all. I had to keep telling myself that you would all be okay without me." She sniffed as she finally began to wipe her freckled cheeks. "And I was so bloody wrong, Dakota. I was so wrong and now I'm left with nothing, but an empty manor."
The two of them observed each other, both learning, understanding. For the first time, Dakota saw Abbie as a scared young woman and not the iron and sea salt captain that made training sessions a living nightmare. She saw the uncertain future that Abbie faced.
"I don't blame you, Dakota." Abbie admitted. "But I'm learning that there is only one person to blame and it sure as hell isn't you."
"Illya." Dakota spat.
Abbie nodded slowly.
Dakota pinched the bridge of her nose as everything in her body felt like an unspooled spring in an automaton's leg. She never really realized how exhausted she actually was until now. Even more now as the soft pattering of rain began as a torrential downpour.
" If you don't come back from Ionia, you better bloody believe that I will blame you for something. This child needs to grow up in a safe world, and I am counting on you to do that. So you better come back home with Matais or so help me I will conjure the sea gods and force them to bring you back so that I can strangle the life right back out of you, Dakota Sarah Sampson."
The raven-haired girl moved forward and wrapped her arms around the tall red head.
"I'm sorry," she whispered into Abbie's neck.
***********************************************************/)(\*******************************************
AN- This song is such a good song for Dakota/Vi/ Cait family dynamics. It's like the two of them are talking to Dakota teaching her it's okay to reach out and it makes me cry a little.
(Imogen Heap- The Quiet)
(Moments after)
"I found her. She didn't run off." Vi answered as she entered the door. She slipped her arms out of her leather jacket, hooking it to the coat rack by the door and made her way to her desk. She placed the dark bottle down along the old wood before she slumped into her dark forest green office chair. She breathed out a deep sigh as she spun the chair to face Caitlyn.
The raven-haired woman nodded thoughtfully as she rested her forehead onto her palm. "How drunk is she?" She muttered as her eyes looked to the bottle before returning her gaze back to Vi's exhausted form. They were still recovering, still trying to regain the upper hand in helping the council and the military to gain full control of the city.
"Not at all, actually. Maybe slightly buzzed, but she's been sipping at this since Elric's funeral. Turns out there is a more innocent reason to her not being there." Vi explained as her fingers reached for one of the many screwdrivers on her desk. She fiddled with it unconsciously as she turned a blind eye to the carnage of one of her gauntlets. Yesterday it had been laid unceremoniously with a snarl of curses and its innards spewed out on to the top of her desk.
Caitlyn hummed absentmindedly.
"Abbie found her too," Vi sighed heavily. Inwardly, she felt for the teenager after having her fair share of pissing off the wrong and right kind of people with her avoidance tactics. Caitlyn included.
The raven-haired woman dropped her head and gave a great huff of air. "How mad did she look?"
Vi hesitated a moment before replying. "Mad enough."
"Where are they?" Caitlyn rose from her chair worry clearly bringing her shoulders lower as she shuffled around her desk and B lined for the door. She reached for her raincoat only to have her wrist gently grabbed by her enforcer who had quickly risen from her slumped exhaustion.
"Cupcake, she'll be okay. Take a breath and let her fight for herself. This is between her and Abbie."
"Vi, the last time I let her fight for herself she nearly got smashed to death by a bloody skyscraper." The sheriff looked to her partner with serious icy eyes.
"I know, love. But this is different, this is Abbie. Not an invasion force." The brawler pulled the woman into her chest and wrapped her arms around her waist. "Listen to my heartbeat fer a sec. Take a deep breath."
Caitlyn tried to protest, only to have Vi hush her immediately.
If it were any other day, if she didn't feel like she would collapse at any minute, if she wasn't fully feuling herself with worry, stress, and cup loads of tea, she would have fought Vi with sharp words and a firm jawline.
The raven-haired woman slumped into the pinkette and reciprocated the embrace, lacing her arms around the brawler's neck as she rested her forehead against her shoulder. Slowly, the tension in her spine disappeared as she listened to the slow steady beat of Vi's courageous heart.
They spent a few minutes like this, completely entranced, breathing together as Caitlyn let Vi lull her into this calm. In this moment, the Sheriff of Piltover gave herself permission to forget for a moment, and to just be present.
Vi gave her infamous sideways grin before she pressed their foreheads together. "Remember that time we got to go undercover to that ball in Zaun?"
Caitlyn couldn't help but give a small chuckle. "You kept stepping on my feet."
"You signed me up for classes after that night." Slowly Vi's left hand enclosed around Cait's right hand. She slung her right arm around the sheriff's waist. She started to hum a small waltz and lead her fiancee into a slow-paced side to side dance.
"How could I not?" Cait replied with a snort as she followed along. "Look at you now, sweeping me off my feet with the skills you learned." There is a small beat of silence as she pressed a kiss to Vi's tattooed cheek. "As always."
"What can I say, you give a fighter a chance to get better at fancy footwork and-," She dipped the sheriff, pressing her lips against her neck before she raised her back up. "You'll be sure to see some amazing results."
"You're a fool, Vi"
"Want to know who is more foolish?" The brawler asked as she pulled Caitlyn closer. The sheriff nuzzled her nose against the pinkette's collarbone.
"I swear, if you say me, we will be having a very lengthy discussion, deputy."
"Well, you did agree to marry me. You still have the chance to run." Vi teased as she kissed her Fiancee's forehead.
"Never."
Caitlyn reached on her tiptoes as she pressed her lips to Vi's causing a warm chuckle to roll through the taller woman's chest. They broke the kiss as Vi continued to lead Caitlyn into the slow waltz in the free space of their office.
"We should talk about Dakota, Cupcake."
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. You will have to put your professional hat on tomorrow and be fair to her."
Caitlyn gave a great sigh as she pulled away from Vi. She hugged herself as she leaned against the front of her dark oak desk. "I-I don't think I can do that."
The brawler rose a scarred eyebrow. "This great sheriff once told me, that sometimes it is best to put your feelings away when it came to doing your duty."
"Vi, don't quote me. I don't feel like being told I'm a hypocrite." It was a lot more aggressive than she intended to be. She couldn't help it. The stitches above her liver were starting to make themselves a more present thought in her mind as the wound started to hum. If she wasn't so stubborn, she'd follow her own advice for Dakota and let herself heal properly, or to even see a proper healing mage instead of ignoring that she was wounded.
"I didn't say you were a hypocrite," Vi mumbled with her devious smirk as she made her way to her future wife. Two sets of calloused fingers drew their way up the raven-haired woman's arm and resting to cup along a cheek. The brawler's thumb drew along the high bones of her face. "Just know that you were once in a similar situation. If I'm not wrong, didn't you tell me that your parents tried so hard to get you to stop being a vigilante? Look where that got them and you."
"I was fixing a problem. I was trying to make a difference so know one else could feel scared anymore." Caitlyn replied evenly, her eyes closed as she took the feeling of pain in her abdomen and the gentle caress of Vi.
"That's what she's trying to do too. She's a soldier, cupcake. This is the kinda stuff she's been training for with her brother, with Alex, with Abbie, with Matais, even with me. I can't believe that I am saying this, but she has a duty."
She could see the way Caitlyn's face started to contort into a sad defeated expression as she kept her eyes closed. It wasn't often that Vi was right when it came to being in an argument against her fiancee. It took a lot to crack away at the solid steel of Caitlyn Deramore, but when you got the right hammer and the solid logic of turning that steel into a malleable soft metal; it can be done, slowly and surely. It just took patience.
"I'm worried too, Cait. The last thing I want is to have her come home in a casket. But you and I both know what is on the line when it comes to a situation like this. We both know when duty needs to come before emotions. We both know when a job has to get done."
She leaned forward and kissed the raven-haired woman's forehead as her thumb brushed away a small tear.
"I don't like this."
"I don't either, but she can do this."
"We have a city to pull from the ashes. Again."
"It's gonna take work. Lots of no sleep, maybe even being away from each other for a bit."
"But we can do this." There is a beat, a moment, as the Sheriff takes a great breath, letting it expand in her lungs and exhale out. "And she can too."
***********************************************************/)(\******************************************
(Paramore-Now)
(The next Morning)
She didn't get much sleep, hells below, two days ago she thought sleep was impossible. As tired, drained, and bleak as she felt she didn't let it show as she stood proudly before the Council, General Grayer, and Caitlyn. She kept her shoulders back, chin up and chest out as she did her best to avoid eye contact with the Sheriff.
She had spent all morning polishing her boots and buttons. She spent almost an hour ironing out the gray uniform jacket and the white pressed shirt she wore underneath it. She stole Elric's officer's cap from Abbie's room and promised to return it since her's was somewhere lost to the sea. She refused to eat, knowing that if she had failed to make the council see she was fit for battle, failed to make Caitlyn see, she would most likely vomit before them.
The General scrutinizes her behind the hand that holds his chin in place. "The Sheriff, believes you are unfit to go to battle. Do you agree or disagree?"
Beside him, the Mayor resettles himself in his seat and takes a great sigh as he too observes the teenager in front of him. She has grown since the last time he had seen her. He sees the potential in the way she carries her shoulders, in the way she does not back down from the question as she takes a step forward and begins to talk.
"I disagree." The soldier states, her eyes quickly darting to the sheriff and then back to the General. "Physically, I have nearly healed completely. Much to the thanks of my comrade, and the many medics who have worked tirelessly to keep me breathing." She starts. Her voice is even, calm, collected. "I believe that by the time I arrive to Ionia, I should be fully recovered. I have started a training regime to regain my strength and to push my capabilities further once I reach that point."
"And mentally?" The mayor asks as he leans against the wooden table before him.
Caitlyn fidgets in her seat and does her best to stop herself from screaming at everyone that Dakota is a child still. But she remembers Vi's arguments last night. When Caitlyn was sixteen, she had finally completed police academy training and had joined the ranks as a deputy to Sheriff Tarlson. In her opinion, that was less severe as going to war. However, she is going to do her best to keep Dakota away from the war as long as she possibly can.
"Honestly, I suffered a great loss. My brother- Captain Sampson and Sergeant Preston were nothing but the best and inwardly I was destroyed by it at first. A part of me still is." The soldier confesses. She slightly rocks forward on to her toes. "However, my comrade, Sergeant Jaeson and I have been meditating and we both plan on supporting each other when we land in Ionia. We are both very determined to ensure that we adhere to our duty and fight proudly for Piltover and keep Ionian citizens safe. I am focused on my responsibility to make sure we are all safe from Noxus and Zaun."
General Grayer rose an auburn eyebrow to the soldier. There was something vicious laying in the wake of her artic eyes. Something about the way she set her shoulders made a familiar pang roll through his spine. This young girl was damaged, yes, but she was hungry.
Hungry for what, he didn't care. But the ambition was very clear.
"Sheriff Deramore," The mayor calls, making Caitlyn sit a bit straighter. She is in her own Piltover Police uniform regalia. The dark blue jacket has buttons that are polished silver and the lapels are embroidered by gray material. Her infamous top hat was laid to rest next to her right arm. Her long raven black hair hung over her left shoulder, covering over one of the many medals of valour that were placed along her chest. "What are your arguments to this young soldier be placed in war?"
Caitlyn can't help but see her father glaring at her as he sits patiently behind the mayor. They lock eyes for a moment, a silent argument being thrown back and forth. His dark beard is starting to become a bit gray at the edges of his well-groomed facial hair. He is in one of his nicest all black suits. A small purple pocket square sits in the pocket of his left breast. His cufflinks are a solid brass colour made in the shape of Piltover's emblem. From the corner of her eyes, she sees Dakota noticing the exchange. She then turns her attention to the soldier and finally decides what she will say.
"I sadly underestimated Sergeant Sampson. As she had honestly stated, it was a very terrible loss that she had faced. I had witnessed her in very violent and aggressive behavioural moments as she grieved for her unit members. What I thought was emotional turbulence was just a natural way for a soldier of her age and calibre to process the loss of her own brother and a best friend." Caitlyn began. "However, I believe she may be still in emotional turmoil and suggest that she at least visit a trained psychologist and wait a month before she is placed on the field. I've seen many officers with traits and symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Sergeant Sampson is showing these same symptoms. In my precinct, I give my officers and detectives a month paid leave as well as mandatory hours with a trained specialist. I believe that this mental affliction could affect her ability to make good judgements and decisions on the battlefield."
Dakota stared at her with a tilt of her chin. Something in the way she looked at her made Caitlyn realize Dakota was either warning her or threatening her. Her icy eyes gave the sheriff the coldest glare she had ever received from the girl. Caitlyn could see the way her jaw turned into a wire tight annoyed line.
General Grayer leaned into the mayor, whispering in his ear. The two old men nodded to each other before the Mayor cleared his throat.
"All those in favour of the soldier marching to Ionia say 'aye'."
In the room of thirteen people, a majority of them gave a chorus of aye, Peter Deramore included.
"All of those not in favour say 'nay'."
Two nays were spoken. One belonging to a council member and the other, obviously, to the Sheriff.
Caitlyn felt defeat sit heavy on her chest. She closed her eyes for a heartbeat before she squared her shoulders and raised her chin.
"I must say I do agree with Sheriff Deramore's reasonings. However, we require Sergeant Sampson's expertise in the upcoming battles. We believe her to be a great asset that cannot be replaced. So we will compromise. I do not want you to think that your opinion does not matter here, Sheriff, as it is very valued and even true. This mental affliction can be a silent killer that affects many of our soldiers." The General then looked proudly over to the soldier. "She will march out with the rest of Piltover company tonight. She will need to conduct mental health reports with trained professionals in Ionia at least twice a week until she has acquired the proper tools and skills to ensure her judgement cannot be phased during an episode."
The mayor nodded firmly toward the General as he slammed the gavel down. "This council is dismissed."
Dakota stood at attention and saluted as the General, the Mayor and the council members rose to their feet and left the large senate room. Caitlyn took a moment to read the teenager who kept her gaze toward the back of the leaving council member before she clicked her heels and marched out of the marble room.
As soon as the gran doors closed behind Dakota, she removed her brother's cap and pinched the bridge of her nose. She took a moment to breathe in and out slowly as she focused on keeping her faltering control on her emotions. She counted to ten inwardly as she pushed away the creeping anxiety and kept her mind busy with a packing list. She would need a few things from her room next to the sheriff's office. She thought about maybe leaving it behind so that she could avoid crossing paths with Caitlyn.
Some of the council members walked past the soldier, giving her slight nods as they made their way toward the elevators. Dakota returned the nods as she moved out of their way. A group of them piled up into an elevator and started their descent down.
A low clearing of a throat caught the soldier's ears as she took a step back to make way for the council member.
Peter Deramore rose an eyebrow to the girl before he shook his head as he watched her press the button to go to the upper floors. He crossed his arm in front of her and hit the button to call an elevator to go down.
"Thank you for supporting my decision to go to Ionia," Dakota whispered as she kept a calm gaze toward the councilman as he stared at the glowing numbers above the elevator threshold.
The old man gave a great harumph as the elevator dinged.
"Good luck, Sergeant." Peter muttered as he took a step inside. He held the elevator door open as he leaned out. "Hopefully, you'll enjoy the views of Ionia and never return to Piltover?"
Dakota rose a raven black eyebrow to the well-dressed politician.
"Only in your wildest dreams, Grandfather." She gave a smug glare toward the councilman who stood shocked for a moment before his icy eyes turned cold. He gave a grunt before he leaned back into the elevator cabin. He kept eye contact with her as he began his descent.
She took another controlled deep breath as the elevator dinged for her ascent. As she made it to the floor of Police HQ, she gave a quick nod to the receptionist who watched the girl warily as he let her into to the offices. Detectives stayed out of her way as she quickly marched a b-line through the tiled flooring to the back hallway. Vi poked her head out from the officers' break room with a takeaway cup of coffee in her hand. She licked the sugar off her hands from her strawberry doughnut and told her beat cops that she had to get going as she quickly ran out to chase after the girl. She was quickly met with a firm slim hand grabbing her shoulder.
Caitlyn wasn't the gentle, wine drinking, book reading, cupcake baking Caitlyn right now. Her eyes held the rigidity of Sheriff Deramore and it made the deputy give a great sigh as she stepped out of the way to allow her fiancee the room to go after the soldier.
"False alarm, gents!" Vi called as she made her way back to the group of beat cops leaning back in their chairs. She firmly closed the door and continued on with one of her stories.
Caitlyn rounded the corner of the hallway. She sauntered toward Dakota's room and threw the door closed behind her as she caught the soldier bent down at her dresser with her arms full of clothing.
Dakota cleared her throat as she placed the folded material on top of the wooden top. "How can I help you?"
The young soldier regarded the annoyed line forming in Caitlyn's jaw and the fury lining her icy eyes. "Do you have anything to say for yourself, Sergeant?"
"You stepped over a line, Sheriff," Dakota spoke flatly, as she took off her officer's cap. "I didn't know you'd fight as dirty as spilling some of my darkest secrets to my superiors-"
"You were going to tell them everything, weren't you?" Caitlyn cut hotly.
"Fight fire with fire. You brought up my shit, and I was going to bring up yours. I was going to do anything it took to make sure I was on that boat tonight. Now if you don't mind, I need to pack." The soldier retrieved her clothing and pushed past the soldier as she placed them on the folded sheets of her single bed. She knelt down to reach underneath the furniture piece to grab at a large dark grey pack and retrieved a box of loose hextech pieces.
Caitlyn sauntered closer as she held her balled knuckles to her sides.
"I understand that you are furious with the way I handled this council meeting but I was fighting for you. I'm trying to keep you from getting killed."
The pieces of hextech get slammed at the floor as Dakota points to her biological mother. "And what if I do?"
The question hangs in the air like a stale odour. It freezes Caitlyn's mind as she tries to find the words to retort.
"What if you die on the streets of Piltover, doing your job, Caitlyn? What about Vi?" Dakota demands. "The thing is, it would fucking hurt, I would be devastated, just like with Elric. There is still a part of me that doesn't want to accept it, that plainly refuses that my brother is dead. But the thing is, if I die in this war, know that it's just the natural way of things. I am doing my job, just like how you run the streets here, just like how Vi beats up bad guys. You need to let me do my job!"
"Dakota, please."
"No." The defiance is cold and calculated as she levels Caitlyn with an iron-tight reserve. "I am going to Ionia with Matais. I'm sorry, but this is the way it needs to be. I can't stay here and do nothing, while Illya...while Noxus hurts innocent people. I can not just stand by because I am stuck in grief." Dakota's voice softens as she regards Caitlyn's sombre expression. She observes the way the sheriff holds her arms around herself as she listens with closed eyes. She looks like she is praying, begging, some kind of god to keep Dakota in Piltover."I appreciate you looking out for me, Cait. But please, let me do this."
"I just got you back!" Caitlyn bellows, unable to hold in her emotions anymore. The words echo against the floor to ceiling window in the small room, surrounding Dakota completely. "I could never raise you. I could never be like Sarah, she did such an amazing job with the short time she had with you. But when you went to Demacia, when I was never allowed to see you grow up, to be there for the important milestones of your life, it bloody took something from me. A part of me was gone. And then you come back home and you are nearly apart of my everyday life." Caitlyn doesn't feel the tears falling down her cheeks until she realises her eyes are blurry. "I can't lose you again. You made everything come to reality for me. I was no longer thinking about what you looked like, what your interests are, what makes you smile or makes you angry. You were here and I'm afraid to let you go because I might never get you back!"
Guilt crawls up the soldier's spine. Everything starts to click in to place as she realizes Caitlyn's fears. She wraps her arms around Caitlyn and pulls the woman tightly to her body. The Sheriff clings to her daughter like her life depended on it.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Dakota begins as she holds her biological mother, murmuring into her soft raven hair. They stay like that for a moment, breathing slowly as Caitlyn's sobs turn into quiet sniffles.
"Don't be sorry." The sheriff croaks into her daughter's shoulder. A tear falls to the medal the Demacian captain gave Dakota when she was twelve. "As you said, and even what Vi said, you need to do your job."
"Vi said that huh?" Dakota asks with a wry smirk. "Look, I can't promise anything about me coming back. That's just stupid and illogical. I don't want to promise you anything in case something does happen. But you need to know that I promise I will do everything in my power to come back home. Who else is going to keep Vi outta trouble?"
Caitlyn can't help the chuckle that somehow finds its way out of her throat. She pulls away as she wipes her cheeks with the sleeve of her uniform jacket. She cups her daughter's face and does her best to not burst into tears.
Caitlyn Deramore only whispers one word to Dakota Sampson.
"Okay."
***********************************************************/)(\*******************************************
(Imogen Heap- 2-1)
(That Night)
"Axe head sharpener?" Abbie asks as she walks beside the two soldiers.
Dakota rolls her eyes. "Triple checked that one." She replies. She is in her full black as midnight armour. Some of it still needed some repairs, but it still could be worn during a march. Strapped to her broad shoulders is her rucksack that is filled to the brim with equipment, hextech pieces and supplies, a few pairs of clothing, a fully clean uniform, her research notebooks, a bed roll, a small sleeping bag and enough rations to last a week.
"You have all of your toiletries? Your toothbrush? Lots of socks? The sea has a weird way of making everything soaked you know." Abbie hums as she tightens a strap to Matais's pack. He raises an eyebrow to her but allows her to dote on him.
"Yes, Abbie." Dakota sighs.
"Your mother's ring?"
Dakota pulls the chain out from under plate mail. The gold band gleams brightly in the lantern light next to a dog tag. "Wouldn't leave home without it."
"Are you still sure that I can keep your father's ring? I can give it to you."
"Absolutely not. El would have wanted you to have it." Dakota replies quickly as she grabs the red head's wrists. "Plus it's bad luck, not that I am one to believe in it, but considering I'm going to mystic Ionia, I'd rather not chance it."
Abbie nods her head quickly as she avoids eye contact with the raven haired girl.
Soldiers mill to and fro as they make their way over to their units at the northern edge of the city. Bright lanterns are held up to help ward off the dusk's shadows and guiding civilians to wish the soldiers goodbye. In the short time that Piltover company had been in Piltover, many relationships were either made or re-established. And now they all wish them either final goodbyes or promises of going home. They all wait for the commanders to call their units and begin the one and a half hour trek to a Demacian and Piltovian Naval base. It is a small fishing village that shares a channel of the Ionian sea. It will take them at maximum a week before they land on the shores of the capital city.
"We'll write." Matais whispers as he grabs her gaze with his piercing sea green eyes. "I want to know when the little one is born."
Dakota grins wide. "Yeah, I want to know if I have a nephew or a niece I need to fight for. She'll be our unit mascot."
"She?"
"Hey, not trying to say I'd like a niece, but I mean, I'd like a niece."
Abigail launches forward and wraps her arms around Dakota, hugging the teenager tightly. She pulls away and goes straight to Matais, wrapping her tawny arms around his neck.
"Make good decisions. And I swear if I have to beat the shit out of Swain myself and pregnant as fuck, I'll kick the shit out of you two." Abbie threatens as she pulls away from Matais and clasps both of their shoulders. "Look out for each other, and watch your back. You'll be in uncharted territory, Dakota. Listen to what Matais has to say and follow his lead when it comes to Ionian customs."
"I'll keep an eye on her, Abigail." Matais gives a flat lipped smile as he looks to Dakota. "I am quite eager to see your reaction to the rain forests. I believe you'll be just as transfixed as I was when I first saw them."
"Kiddo!"
Dakota catches the nickname and gives an easy smile as she waves down the pinkette. Behind the bouncing brawler is Caitlyn who holds a file folder to her chest. As the couple come up to the two soldiers and Abbie, the Sheriff hands the folder to Matais.
"That is your mission manifesto. Everything you need for the next little while, should all be in there. Everything. Maps to the camp, your tent number, who will be taking you to the Ionian guard, a history behind them." Caitlyn explains.
Matais nods and holds the folder tightly to his chest. "Thank you ma'am." Matais bows. "I'll ensure to send over a report once we land on Ionian soil. I'll let you know who the new commander will be."
"Thank you Matais."
"Hope you didn't think you were gettin' away without saying goodbye." Vi starts as she hooks the young girl's neck, swatts off her brother's officer's cap, and begins to nugey the teen.
"Voids Vi!" Dakota barks out as she aims a playful blow into the tall brawler's abdomen. She slips out of the grab and gives a wicked beaming grin toward the pinkette who returns the smile with a devious smirk.
"Like I said, crack some heads for me." Vi raises her fists playfully and bobs back and forth. "And make sure you check your wire counts twice. Oh and pee after sex it ke-"
"Vi, please." Caitlyn begs.
"What I need to put my wisdom on the kid, before she goes off into the wilds of Ionia." Vi leans in to whisper as she pulls Dakota closer. "The girls there-woof. Just be safe, eh? Not for like protection, just make sure you know what you're aiming for. Some of them seem human, but let me tell you, they may not be,"
"Speaking from personal experience?" Dakota asks with a low chuckle.
"Maybe, but you're warned now."
"I'll remember, Vi." The soldier promises with a grin.
Caitlyn pushes past Vi, who then turns her attention to Matais. She amicably starts talking to him, asking him if he's been to the capital. Abbie joins in on the discussion making the brawler give a large laugh.
The sheriff pinches the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry, she usually turns into a massive chatterbox when she gets nervous."
Dakota waves it off. "It helps. Matais won't stop counting the thread in his robes." She mumbles. Even now, Caitlyn can see the nervous energy through Dakota. She sees it in the way that she can't stand still, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her right hand goes back and forth between her hextech bugs and the clasps to her right axe head.
"Do you have everything? Do you have enough hextech to keep up with the bugs?" The sheriff asks as she inspects Dakota's rucksack.
"I should, if not I'll just head into a scrap heap or order some." Dakota answers calmly. Her icy eyes keep to her boots as her eyebrows knit in worry. She runs through the paperwork mentally and tries to remember the name of the new quartermaster.
"Okay, if you find you are missing anything write to us. We can send some along the way if anything becomes too difficult to find."
The young soldier nods as she adds that to her checklist in the back of her head.
"Write to us every week." Caitlyn orders as she places her hands along Dakota's shoulders. "I don't care if you write 'nothing happened this week, I just slept in a tent and trained.' If anything bad happens just trust your gut and keep close to Matais. Remember what Vi said about keeping your hands up-"
"Mum, stop. I'll keep you upda-." Dakota freezes immediately as she realizes what she just said.
Caitlyn stares at her owlishly.
"Shit, sorry. Mental slip," Dakota mumbles as her pale cheeks pinken in embarrassment.
"It's okay." Caitlyn smiles gently as she cups the girl's left cheek. "I know you can't promise me anything, but at least promise me you will do your best to stay safe."
Dakota's left hand closes over Caitlyn's. "I promise."
The two raven-haired girls embrace tightly. The sheriff places her hand along the back of the soldier's head and does her best to not cry on the girl's shoulders.
"Group hug?" Vi asks.
Dakota swears that as she looks up to the brawler, that the pinkette's violet eyes look a bit wet. The soldier gives a chuckle as she wraps an arm around the brawler and pulls her into an embrace shared by her and Caitlyn. Abbie is next to join as she hugs around Dakota and Caitlyn.
Matais sighs heavily as he looks to the group of women. He rolls his eyes and shuffles over. He clenches the folder tightly in his grip and wraps his arms around Vi and Dakota, completing the group hug.
"Piltover company, Attennnnnntion!" One of the commanders call.
Everyone pulls away instantly. Caitlyn watches as Matais, Dakota and the rows of soldiers stand shoulder to shoulder at attention.
"Piltover Company, Fall in." The commander calls.
Abbie gives them both another quick hug, as soldiers start to march.
Panic settles into Caitlyn's chest as Dakota looks over her shoulder and then to Matais. Vi moves in quickly pulling Caitlyn along. The sheriff wraps her arms tightly around the soldier's neck. "Just be safe, please. I want you home, Dakota Sarah Sampson."
"I will," is the teenager's quick reply. "Watch out for Abbie. Keep an eye on her for me. And take a fucking break, for once."
Vi nods as she swoops in for a quick crushing embrace, "Don't be fucking stupid, kid."
"I can't promise that, but I'll do my best," Dakota smirks as she breaks the hug.
The pinkette wipes at her cheek and places an arm around Caitlyn's waist.
"Yeah, whatever, don't be a heartbreaker, alright?" Vi calls playfully, her voice cracking up a bit as she watches the soldier begins to walk backwards. The loud rumble of marching war drums carries a beat as soldiers funnel into position regarding their unit.
"I'll make ya proud, Vi." Dakota calls as she gives a final wave and places her officer's cap upon her head. She turns her back and marches beside Matais. Her rucksack hides her broad shoulders as she starts to make the distance.
"Ya already are." The brawler whispers as she pulls Caitlyn in tighter.
The raven haired woman watches her daughter march off numbly. She can't believe she allowed this to happen. Inwardly she fights herself, fights the inner hate that starts to bubble up. Voices hiss in her mind calling her a terrible mother, a terrible sheriff, a terrible influence.
She can't help the small trail of tears making their way down her cheeks.
Abbie stands beside them hugging herself as Dakota and Matais walk away. Just like the attack on Piltover she cannot join her comrades on this march into war. It pains her greatly and causes her to speak a murmured prayer.
"Father of land and mother of sea, please bring them both safely back to me."
***********************************************************/)(\*******************************************
(Son Lux- Delivery)
The city is still in mourning. It is calmly picking itself up from the wreck and ruin. Even though it had been a week after the attack, the embers of the flames still burn along the destruction. Smoke rises still and covers the city in a great smog.
From her perch on the cliffs of the Ironspike mountains, Piltover is serene, in an odd way.
Yet, there is a flame growing larger as she breathes. The rage that piles, burns her lungs. It hasn't consumed her, but it is evident that it will get to that point. It does not plague her, but it fuels her cause as she looks to the city.
Ice and fire.
Blue and red.
Peace and war.
There is not one without the other.
"Dakota?" Matais calls. His pack is shouldered tightly. "Come on. We must move forward."
She takes another breath, the fire growing more and more within herself. Behind her the troops march to the war drum as they make their way through the mountain pass. After this they will reach the Demacian and Piltovian warships in a small port city just a few kilometers away from Piltover.
Her knuckles clench around the straps of her rucksack.
Piltover will rebuild without her watchful eyes. But she still makes a vow to her home.
She will burn the Noxian Empire to the ground. She will find Illya Swain and destroy everything she holds dear, before she brings rightful justice upon her.
Piltover will never suffer through this again.
She will march forward steeling herself as the pinnacle of vengeance and fury. Every waking moment of her existence will now go to keeping this from happening ever again to any innocent person.
She will not rest until Illya Swain's head is a top a spike.
Dakota Sampson will get her revenge.