Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to own, any character or region besides my original characters and storylines. All characters and regions not originally created by the authors credited in this work of fiction are the intellectual properties of Riot Games, Inc. and their respective partners.
Author's Note: You might've noticed that I changed my handle on both FFN and AO3. I figured it was time to let go of the old fic that created the name in the first place and give myself a name that doesn't connect to any single fandom.
Also, I changed the chapter names to actual titles. Trying something new.
WARNING: This chapter is where this fic earns its 'Graphic depiction of violence' warning, right after the time skip, so beware. Otherwise, enjoy.
Cliffside Residence, Boundary Markets, Promenade Level, Zaun
LeBlanc received a scornful glare at that, which didn't surprise her considering everything that happened the last time they met. Neither was the comment that followed, even though it hurt her more than she would ever admit.
"I'm not your son. That naïve little boy died when you sent him after his own father", Heron growled. "Not even considering the political ramifications of having one of Darkwill's best and most revered generals murdered, you set me up to commit patricide!" he screamed at her, bright hot fury causing the more violent nature of his magic to rise to the surface as his voice broke away from the signature growl.
His eyes glowed an angry red as sharp beams of energy ran down his arms and two lethal spheres of lightning sparked in his palms, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice. He was only nine years old at the time, and she had sent him on a suicide mission, just so she could probe the man's defenses.
"Get out", he whispered, turning away as his magic faded. Even though it had been seventeen years since his father took him in, it still hurt to look at her.
LeBlanc sighed. "Fine", she said. "After you answer this question for me"
A frustrated huff filled the room as he debated between playing along and trying to force her out. It wasn't much of a decision.
"What's the question?"
"Your name is Heron Rekam. What's the last part?"
Heron could only sigh. He should have known. She always wanted to bring him back, all he had to do was use that name again. Heron Rekam LeBlanc. There was a time when he thought that was who he was, who he was meant to be.
He stabbed that boy in the throat the day he denounced her.
He said his name, his real name, in defiance. His voice echoed through the empty room.
Ground Floor, Hall of Law, Piltover
Heron couldn't focus. Not on the files in front of him, not on the small talk from Vi, not on anything. He was still reeling from the surprise, unwanted visit from yesterday as he stared blankly at the wooden surface of his desk. He didn't go to his meeting at The Last Drop, didn't see Talon out to the docks, didn't even sleep after she left. Ironic, the source of his innate healing abilities was also hurting him the most.
How was she there? Why was she there? He knew her, both Evaine the cabal leader and Emilia the maternal figure. She never did anything just for the hell of it. Everything was planned, every action served a purpose. What was the purpose of this one?
Heron was so distracted that he didn't hear Vi calling him until a calloused hand waved back and forth in front of his face. He glanced up with a jolt, realizing that he had spaced out. While on the clock. In public.
Mentally telling himself to get his shit together, he turned his focus fully towards his desk neighbor.
"Did you need something, Vi?"
"Just wanna check up on you, Bubs. You've been off all morning. Something's bothering you", she stated confidently. "Wanna talk about it?"
He had learnt on his first month that just because Vi's a spunky, brash, and hotheaded bruiser doesn't mean that she's stupid or oblivious. Surprisingly, she was actually more emotionally perceptive than Caitlyn once you get underneath that rock-hard exterior, and he trusted her to listen and not judge whenever he needed a second opinion on personal matters. But not about this.
"I'm good. Just didn't sleep very well, that's all"
It wasn't necessarily a lie. He didn't get a wink of sleep last night, so it could be said that he didn't sleep well. She didn't need to know the rest.
As far as Vi's concerned, as far as anyone's concerned, he was a disgraced soldier who deserted while on deployment in the Noxian Shuriman town of Tereshni and escaped to Nashramae before High Command could drag him back and pass judgement on whatever crimes he had committed. At least, that's what he told Caitlyn during his job interview. He left the last part vague to gauge a reaction from her. Assumptions about an unknown part of your life speaks volume to someone's impression of you, and Heron would take any bit of information he could get his hands on. Fortunately, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, and he'd gone as far as gaining her – mostly – unwavering trust.
It was a shame that he would have to betray her eventually.
"Also, how many times have I told you to stop calling me that?" he asked Vi, a touch of amusement in his voice.
Bubs, or Bubbles in full, was the nickname Vi gave him the first time they met due to his fascination with fuzzy, carbonated drinks. They didn't have those in Noxus. He hated the name immediately, one of the reasons it persisted with him to this day, but he had exacted revenge on Vi by drinking her under the table a month later, earning himself twenty hexes in the process. The raging headache and horrible hangover she surely woke up with was almost enough to make up for the horrible nickname. Almost.
Vi shot him a smirk at that, and he knew that she wouldn't stop as long as he kept complaining about it. He rolled his eyes at the not-so-subtle message. Before they had a chance to ease back into familiar banter, Tremello walked up to his desk.
"Sheriff Caitlyn wants to see you in her office. Both of you. Said it's urgent"
Heron exchanged confused glances with Vi as they stood up and walked towards the nearby stairwell, Tremello following behind. The lanky warden stayed outside as the two enforcers stepped into Caitlyn's office. The first noticeable thing was the fact that her desk was unusually empty, the piles of warrants and edicts nowhere to be seen. The second was Jago Medarda in one of the opposite seats, uncharacteristically unkempt, looking like he'd gotten no sleep judging by his slouching form and the arm propping his chin up. Caitlyn was sitting grim-faced in her usual seat, staring straight ahead.
"Sit down", she said without preamble.
All signs indicated that Jago snitched to Caitlyn, all he needed was the confirmation. They pulled out the two other chairs and sat down, waiting for Caitlyn to explain why they've been called in, Heron twice in two working days.
"Councilor Medarda's home was broken into on the night of Progress Day by the Duke, who attempted to blackmail him into accepting a series of demands by invoking an old debt to a Noxian family", she stated, shocking Vi. "Is that correct, Councilor?"
"Yes, sheriff, and I expect you to find this bastard and drag him before the Council for judgement by the end of the month. The staff found four of my guards dead on a lower roof, so you can add murder to his charges. As head of the Council, I am authorizing you to use any means necessary to accomplish this", Jago said, the anger and entitled indignation evident in his voice.
There was his confirmation. Jago, you fucking idiot. Now he's gonna have to kill Jae and display the corpse to send a message. Poor kid. Bright-eyed, healthy curiosity, and so very innocent. He didn't deserve what's coming, but it has to be done. Jago chose to defy him, knowing the consequences. He will only have himself to blame.
"Thank you, Councilor. If you don't mind, I'd like to speak to my partners in private now, please". The Medarda master gave a soft grunt of acknowledgement and stumbled out of his seat. Heron caught a whisper of fermented Ionian wine on his breath. He's hungover. Possibly stress-drinking. Could be useful information if he can resist the urge to strangle the old man and mutilate him alive in the most painful ways. He quickly wiped that thought from his head. That can come later, he needed to focus on the situation at hand.
Caitlyn waited an extra five seconds after the door had closed behind the Councilor before addressing the pair. "The Duke was seen as a potential threat when we first became aware of his existence, but this elevated him to an enemy of the city. Tracking down and apprehending this man is now our number one priority, and I mean that in the most absolute of ways"
She turned to Vi. "If you come across a choice between the Duke and Jinx, you are expected to let her go", she stated, the commanding tone undermined by the sympathy in her eyes. They both knew what Jinx meant to Vi, knew about the broken familial bonds that she was trying desperately to hide from the rest of Piltover.
On the other hand, this complicated matters. The Duke was not yet ready for this kind of attention, but there was nothing anyone could do about it now. What he could do was inform the barons and buy time, maybe have Jinx make a reappearance. A little havoc would go a long way, and maybe he could even convince Vi to ignore orders and chase after her sister. Caitlyn would then follow Vi to keep her in check and try to steer her back on track, leaving him unbothered and the case unattended. But of course, that was the best-case scenario. He needed to prepare for the worst. That meant getting his blades dirty.
Heron felt his blood burn with adrenaline at the thought.
Sheriff's Office, Second Floor, Hall of Law, Piltover
Two Weeks Later
Caitlyn was used to being the most intelligent person in any room. She'd beaten her father over the chessboard at seven, beaten her mother in a debate at twelve, and outsmarted the entirety of the Piltover Wardens to solve her parents' kidnapping at seventeen. She was not accustomed to being outsmarted or outplayed.
Yet, somehow, the Duke has managed to do both. At every turn, just as she finished casting a net over him, she would find herself, and whoever was with her at the time, ensnared by the trap of her own making, while the only hints of him ever being there were the messages he left behind, lined with subtle taunts and emitting an air of condescension.
Worse than that, they had yet to find any worthwhile evidence. The handwriting was too robotic, almost printed, to be a useful analysis of character, his boot size was too common to sufficiently narrow down suspects, and she still didn't know what he looked like. On top of all that, Jinx had reappeared, directly bombing Bluewind Court in a stunt that Caitlyn had thought was too daring even for the bluette maniac. She'd had to divert valuable time and resources into handling the aftermath of that, giving the Duke more time to prepare and elude her right after he had Jae Medarda's severed head displayed atop the Sun Gates alongside the twenty corpses that had been his security detail, a mere two hours after she'd first been informed about the blackmail. Caitlyn wasn't naïve enough to think that Jinx's reappearance was simply bad timing.
Ten days of relentless pursuit, and all she's got so far were over two dozen bodies to show for it. All enforcers. He played the game amicably right up until one of her lieutenants had the bright idea to start threatening Zaunites. At first they were strictly going for criminals, which escalated the hunt into physical violence. Bruises, cuts, and maybe an occasional broken bone could be found in the infirmary, but nothing too severe.
It was when they started turning their batons to innocent people, even beating up children, did things turn lethal. Caitlyn had been absent, too busy keeping Vi in check to be personally present at the Hall and shut the idea down. As a result, the entire team she'd assign down there had been slaughtered with coldblooded brutality, their bodies lining one edge of Techmaturgy Bridge and their severed heads lining the other side, still in uniform. Surgical precision was evident in every strike, aiming for major blood vessels and crucial nerve endings in a way that ensured an efficient but painful kill. The lieutenant responsible for inciting the violence against the undercity had not been with the rest of the bodies and was later found spread out atop the Hall's ceiling, hanging by the collar of his uniform with his testicles lodged in the back of his throat.
Cause of death was asphyxiation.
As morbid as it was, this slaughter was the only solid lead Caitlyn had to establish a psychological profile on the Duke so far. He was surgically precise, brutally efficient, and had a preference for sharp blades with clean cuts instead of the jagged edges or blunt instruments more commonly found in Zaun. He was willing to be benevolent, but it seemed like he was also extremely lethal should other people, especially innocent people, were involved against their will. She compared it with Heron's psychological profile and concluded that the Duke was former Noxian military.
She'd issued a general order to not involve Zaunite civilians, increased security along the border, and postponed the manhunt for a few days while everyone grieved over the loss of their colleagues and friends. As sheriff, she had to make a speech at the funeral, but it was hard to stand there, in front of their families, when she'd failed to keep them alive, when she'd been too occupied with her more-than-capable partner to lead them like she was supposed to.
Caitlyn finally admitted to herself after the funeral that she needed a deputy sheriff to help with the workload. She chose Corina, a seasoned logistics officer with a sharp mind and a sharper wit to boot. She'd also promoted Vi to captain and Heron to commander of the enforcer division. After what happened, she needed people she could trust in charge.
Speaking of Heron, he had been kept to the Lanes for the past week, working an undercover angle for intel, so Vi had been leading small groups of enforcers into the undercity to reconnect with old contacts. Most of them didn't want to talk, even on the other end of Vi's gauntlets, and according to her it wasn't fear, but rather loyalty and respect keeping them silent. The rare few who did talk didn't know much, only that he's a mysterious figure who uses his wealth and power to help Zaunites and that he has powerful patrons overseas. According to Vi, the Duke was doing such a good job in Zaun that even Ekko left him alone, although he and his gang of misfits were still wary of the man.
Caitlyn had to admit: She underestimated just how complicated the situation was. It didn't help that Jago Medarda went on a warpath after his son's murder. She won't pretend to understand what it must be like to lose your child in such a brutal manner, but the fact remained that his increasingly aggressive orders were sending her officers to their graves. She'd had to beg her mother to work past her fear and reclaim the Kiramman's seat on the Council, just so there would be someone to sway the votes and keep the old man in check. It seemed to be working thus far.
As Caitlyn turned her attention back to the files lining her desk, waiting to be sorted and pinned onto the corkboard, she could only hope that this fight with the Duke doesn't turn into an all-out war.
The Last Drop, Black Lanes, Sump Level, Zaun
The objective of Caitlyn Kiramman's manhunt was in his usual seat at the head of the long wooden table, now housing a total of nine seats instead of the previous eight. The newest seat, signifying a new member, boasted the seemingly amateurish engraving of a very familiar monkey face on the back. It was on his immediate right, signifying the owner of this seat to be his number two. His right hand. It was a position which had previously been occupied by Renata Glasc, whose seat now sat on his left instead.
Two other people occupied the room. Jinx was breaking in her new chair, fiddling around with a chomper and a small pouch of saltpetre he'd acquired from his father. She'd been given a seat right after the manhunt started. After all, he'd promise full disclosure of relevant facts to the barons under his command, a condition which had been stipulated and insisted upon when he'd originally gotten them the take the knee. The astronomical profit he'd secured for them was a good motivator, but keeping them in the loop, making them think that they're being treated like his equals, was the true key to maintaining their loyalty. Given that Jinx was set to sow chaos and confusion in Piltover for his benefit, he thought their affiliation was quite relevant.
The other person was Talon, dressed in his usual gear. According to the letter, the authenticity of which had been verified by a reliable source, he had been ordered to change identities and stick around to ensure that the plan continues to proceed smoothly, using a body double to bypass mandatory security checks for foreign political parties. He'd passed on the acquired blueprints to his crew and said that he is to remain here until the Hexylene Caliver is in their possession at the very least. It was just as well; his skills had proved useful in transporting the corpses onto Techmaturgy Bridge undetected, something not even Moyna could do, nor did she wanted to do.
Speaking of Moyna, she'd been hard at work acquiring the Caliver for him, one piece at a time. Heron's credentials had gotten her pass perimeter guards without much trouble, but once inside she had to weave through security, locate the part, then swap it with an Entresol counterfeit without detection. Any indication that someone was stealing from the clans would have them locking down their workshops in an instant, turning a difficult job into an impossible one. Fortunately for Moyna, there was a reason the Duke favors her over the plethora of thieving personalities available like Devaki. She has never been caught, nor does she plan to be. All she needed to do was make sure that her plans were airtight and her execution flawless. And she had managed to do both.
Only the hextech power core remained, and he had his own plans for that one. It was at that moment that Moyna dropped down from the rafters, having climbed through the ventilation shaft.
"Ah, Moyna. Just in time", the Duke said as she timidly walked towards him, eyes flitting around the room, landing on Jinx, then Talon, then finally settling on the green eyes of the man emanating the most terrifying presence she'd ever felt. But she trusted that he wouldn't harm her without cause, and thus far she hasn't given him one.
"Your letter told me to collect payment here, but I haven't finished the job yet. What's going on?" she asked warily. Moyna wasn't accustomed to getting paid in full before the job is done and was only here because she gave herself as much fear suppressant as possible beforehand and because the Duke was one of the few who have never tried to swindle her or kill her to tie up a loose end. But she was still suspicious of his intent.
"There's still the power core left, I know, but it just so happens that I have different plans for that particular part. If it had been anything else, I would've let you see the job through. I understand that this is an abrupt change of plans, and I'm willing to reimburse the cost of any preparations you might have made for this heist", he explained. "Speaking of payment, you can collect yours over there", he pointed to a metal chest sitting neatly on a shelf by the wall.
Opening it revealed gold hexes bound by threads into small stacks of ten, and even without counting she knew that it was the agreed amount, but she still counted them anyway out of habit. It took just over two minutes, and it was all there, a quarter-million hexes glinting dully in her paws, the second half of her payment. There was something else on top too, a thin metallic card with the Duke's sigil stamped in the middle. Her blank favor.
"I'm retired. I won't be taking any jobs from now on", Moyna told him, earning a small smile. Wait, a smile? She looked at him again and nearly jumped out of her skin at the realization that he didn't have his mask on. She gawked for a split-seconds at how young he looked. Of course, everyone knew he was young under the mask, it wasn't hard to tell once you've seen him in person, but his eyes always made him out to be more mature than he seemed. This, Moyna realized, was a boy, not even thirty if she had to guess, not much younger than her, and she was stunned. Of course, most Zaunites had to grow up far sooner than thirty, herself included, but most Zaunites didn't have the Chem-barons submitting to them.
Her eyes snapped away as she remembered the implication of seeing the Duke's uncovered face. It indicated a death sentence, swift and immediate, a final question answered before the person was… exterminated. Those same eyes flitted around the room instead, looking for an exit strategy. The Noxian assassin standing in the corner would likely be just as versatile as she is in the rafters and infinitely more lethal, and Jinx's minigun, a weapon as notorious as its more explosive counterpart, was propped against the girl's leg.
"Can I count on your discretion, Moyna?" she heard him asked and nodded frantically, trying to buy herself just a little more time to plan before…
"Then feel free to look"
She froze up at that, surprise etched onto every line and crevice of her face. She slowly turned around; payment forgotten as she settled her gaze on him again, getting a better look. Moyna was once again shocked when she realized that she'd seen him before, up on the surface. Different hair and different eyes, but it was definitely him. It was then that she understood why he'd been able to stay ahead of someone as intelligent and cunning as Caitlyn Kiramman, with the entirety of Piltover's law enforcement behind her.
Enforcer Heron Zinralei met her gaze, his expression calm, almost serene as her heart thudded. If this was the man ruling Zaun, sooner or later the sheriff would figure it out. He couldn't be at two places at once, after all.
Of course, as soon as she thought that the doors opened and Heron walked in, a worn cloak hiding the swords on his back and a hood pulled up to cover his crimson hair. He pulled the hood down as he approached the Duke, and Moyna's eyes snapped between the two in visible confusion. The most plausible explanation was that they were twins, but that doesn't explain the different eye color between them.
Moyna mentally shook her head. Regardless of what was really going on, the tension between the ruling powers of Piltover and Zaun was at one of the highest points in known history. The fallout over the discovery of the Duke's true identity would likely be devastating, and she had no intention of being here for its inevitable arrival.
"I need a ship to Navori by the end of this week, and I want to be a legitimate passenger", she said, handing him the metal card.
"Consider it done", the Duke said calmly as he took it and a web of red energy wrapped around the card as his eyes turned a similar shade, disintegrating it almost instantaneously and leaving no residue. Moyna supposed she should've been shocked by that but given everything that had happened in the past two minutes, along with the public knowledge of the Duke being a mage, it didn't really faze her as much as it should've.
"I'll send details to the usual spot in a few days, but I can only guarantee Noxian transport ships. I assume you won't have a problem with that?" he asked, and Moyna tensed as she entertained the thought of him somehow knowing that her dad was an Ionian war veteran for a split-second before relaxing. He was resourceful, but that knowledge would be nigh impossible for him to obtain. Even if he knew, it didn't matter. Her family was safe, she made sure of that. She nodded and he returned the gesture, sealing the favor.
Moyna went back to the chest, pulled out a set of locks, as was instructed, and locked it. She had the only key, and the gold would be delivered to her door with the locks intact and untampered.
As Moyna leapt back onto the rafters, his voice, genuine as can be, gave her pause.
"It's been a pleasure, Moyna"
She climbed out the way she came, a small smile tugging on her lips.
Meanwhile, the Duke turned to Heron the moment he was sure Moyna was no longer in the immediate vicinity and dismissed the clone, which dissipated into a small cloud of mist. As much as he hated LeBlanc for how she used him, Heron had to admit that the things he'd learn from her were all incredibly useful. Especially those two favorite sayings of hers that she always repeated to him. The first had been used on the battlefield many times: "Once the battle is won, one must not hesitate, but press on, pursue, and annihilate their foe". But it was the second that he would be using here: "Before the news, the rumors. Before the rumors, the play. Before the play, the plot"
The plot has been determined before he even boarded the ship to Piltover, and the play is underway. Now, before the rumors start to spread, he needed to call for a full meeting, preferably by tomorrow. Heron groaned at the prospect of once again having to deal with all the barons in one room. Fortunately, he had experience managing egos from his time in High Command. Just don't let them talk.
"Who the hell's this?"
Spindlaw asked, his voice gruff and slightly hoarse from constantly inhaling the Gray as he eyed Talon, who was standing behind and to the right of the head seat. Grime, Eramis, Lenare and Karvyq looked at the Duke, expecting an answer, while Veraza and Glasc looked like they already knew, or at least had a suspicion, to the surprise of absolutely no one.
"This is Talon, one of the deadliest blademasters in Valoran and my personal guard"
Heron smirked behind the mask at the expression of stunned silence and fear that appeared on everyone's faces at that reveal. He especially relished the apprehensive look on Renata's face as she gave Talon a onceover with her eyes before looking away, seemingly surprised by the answer. It was hard to wipe the smugness off her face without getting physical, so he enjoyed every instance of it. However, he steered the meeting back on track before long.
"Let's get back on track. First off, updates. Eramis, has Reginald present any opportunities regarding Clan Ferros?"
The rotund baron adjusted his top hat and took out a notebook, flipping to the desired page. "He told me that Clan Ferros has been struggling to keep up with Medarda's expansions, especially after we crippled Clan Tariost, thank you Karvyq, and said that now would be the perfect time to present Lady Elizabeth with a tempting proposal from us less… savory characters", he said, adding a gleeful sneer at the end. Heron, no, the Duke, the Noxian reminded himself, simply nodded.
"Inform Reginald that I have a proposal for his boss but tell him to broach the subject discreetly and organically to her. He'll tell her that you approached him about it on a random day, sensing an opportunity. Do not let him reveal his loyalties to us, understood?"
"He will ask about the details of this deal. What should I tell him?"
The Duke made a show of contemplating the question, unwilling to reveal the fact that he was already planning twenty moves ahead. "Tell him that it's between me and Ferros if she's interested. I'll have to deal with her grandaunt first"
Elizabeth Ferros was still mentally malleable enough to convince to his side, especially with Lady Sofia helping him, but Camille would see right through his bullshit. He'd have to remove her from the board before making a move to control the Ferros' seat on the Council. He'll have to spar with Talon, keep his blades sharp, then they'll take her out together. The Blade's Shadow and the Noxii Demon, side-by-side once again.
"Moving on. Veraza, any progress on that new breed of yours?"
"Yes, they are coming along nicely, in no small part due to your contributions. Noxian imports are just so much more potent than what the locals can offer", the infamous Chem-baroness answered with a lazy smile, her eyes glinting mischievously as she glanced at Glasc, who was sitting on her immediate right, and earned herself a cold murderous glare from the industrialist.
"Good, that's good. Keep up the work and inform me if there are any troubles". Those new plants of hers were specifically engineered to be beautiful, pleasantly fragrant, and extremely toxic to the human body once the air sacs within were breached. He had big plans for them, he just needed to wait for a field test and an opportunity.
"Do the rest of you have anything to inform?" the Duke asked, receiving silence across the table. Jinx wasn't present, she was out setting up a small bomb and planning a rampage right outside the Arvino mansion house to keep Lady Sofia from Caitlyn's suspect list, while Glasc was glaring at the empty chair across from her and trying her best to hide it.
"Now, I'm sure you've all been wondering why I called this meeting when we weren't due for another month, so I'll get right to the point", he said, letting a moment pass by to capture the attention of everybody present before continuing. "We're going to eliminate Clan Medarda from play, starting with assassinating Jago"
The whole room went still as everyone looked at him like he'd just grown a second head. Which wasn't exactly impossible, just excruciatingly painful, but that was beside the point. Given what he just said, the reactions were underwhelming. He was expecting people to start screaming in protest, challenging him and…
"Are you insane?" a cold, regal voice rang out from his left.
There it was.
He turned to Renata Glasc, who was glowering in both indignant disbelief at the sheer stupidity of his plan and self-righteous anger at being dragged down here from her tower just to hear said plan. Both emotions were buried deep enough to only be visible to him, and the moment he saw them he knew he'd lost her. Now it was just a matter of finding out who will take her side when she turns. But still, he should give an explanation.
"Jago Medarda is the main reason why we've been having trouble with topside for the past two weeks. Now I'll admit, I had a plan to bring him into the fold and it backfired, but this war will benefit us in a different way. If Elizabeth Ferros is interested in working with us, we can use her influence to keep the tide in our favor and cut her in on Clan Medarda's businesses once the family's wiped out", he explained. "Not to mention, he's head of the Council and the richest person in Piltover. Killing him would put the largest fortune in the city up for grabs, causing internal conflict within the clan, and the news of the Head Councilor being murdered would make topside panic and the Council scrambling to reorganize, which puts Piltover in a position of weakness, and we can exploit that"
The Duke turned to address the rest of the table.
"Of course, we'll have to make preparations to guarantee success. Spindlaw, I'll need you to triple our forces at the border. The last thing we need is for Takeda to start sniffing around"
He turned to Corina and slid a folder over. "Veraza, I need this false intel planted on the archivist's desk by tomorrow. Glasc, I want you to drag Clan Medarda deeper into business with you and prepare to cut them off on my signal. Karvyq and Grime, you two keep to your original assignment, we'll need those caches in place soon. Any objections?"
He looked around to see some hesitation here and there, Glasc especially looked like she was being forced to swallow basilisk piss just by agreeing with his plan, but no one spoke up against him.
Which was bad, since now he had to coax the turncoats out of hiding. Which meant baiting Renata fucking Glasc of all people into tipping her hand. He'd rather go another round with Darius, but if that's what he needed to do, then that's what he'll do.
"All right, before we adjourn, does anyone have anything to bring up?" he asked, giving everyone a chance to speak their mind. It keeps them from feeling oppressed, which in turn keeps them cooperative.
No one spoke up, likely still processing. They'll all come to their own conclusions about his plans by nightfall, and then it's just a matter of predicting the outcome and preparing for yet another attempt on his life.
He got out of his seat and walked downstairs, intent on helping his customers consume the crate of Basilich wine he'd bought. The other crate was already drained. He got a few stares from the crowd, mostly new faces from beyond the Pilt, coming here after hearing that this was a safe place to get a drink, find a score, and move items from said scores without the fear of death, protected by the most powerful man in Zaun. Pointedly ignoring all of them, he slid into a stool and rapped his knuckles on the bar.
"Thieram, pure Basilich, and make it full"
The tall brunette, dressed sharply in a white dress shirt and green vest, simply nodded at his request, finish pouring out someone else's drink, then popped open a new bottle and slid a full glass of wine in front of him.
He flipped his hood up to take the mask off, then downed the entire thing in three gulps before gesturing for another one. Thieram raised a brow but didn't question his employer's request, refilling diligently but pointedly giving him a half-full glass. At the inquisitive look sent his way, the bartender simply jerked his chin to a dark booth in the back, where the shadows of a figure could barely be seen by the crowd. He had a visitor, someone who knew that he was going to be here, in this bar, at this time. A closer look with his crimson eyes revealed an aura of power that was simultaneously blindingly bright and unthinkably dark, an incomprehensibly ancient being, reeling in whispers of deep secrets long thought lost, preserved against the flow of time.
His father was here. That's either a boon or a curse.
Leaving two hexes on the counter, the Duke shifted his mindset back to Heron as he grabbed his drink and slipped into the booth next to the man, separated only by a steel wall. People knew better than to interrupt him in the middle of a drink. And if someone tried to harass his father? He pitied the fool.
"What are you doing here, father?" He heard the unspoken challenge in the lack of a response.
'You're my son, figure it out yourself' was a commonly heard sentence for him, a way for his father to test him regularly and keep his mind sharper than his blades.
Heron started looking at the facts. It was too soon for the armada to be deployed, and even then he would've arrived with the ships. If he wanted a progress report he could've just sent Beatrice, same with sending orders and relevant updates from home. The man was too important to leave Noxus Prime for long periods of time, which meant… what, exactly? The most likely reason for the Grand General of Noxus to be in the gentrified slums of Zaun was to coordinate… troops…
His eyes snapped around the bar and saw the group of warriors that had somehow eluded him until now. Four by the door, two at one of the pool tables, two by the stairs, seven more concealed in various pockets of shadow around the walls and ceiling, and one standing at a table two paces away from the booth. The two men by the stairs were Du Couteau initiates from the looks of them, while the rest he recognized. The Crimson Elite, once known as the Raedsel Guard, is the predecessor of the Trifarian Legion and a vicious, yet useful, remnant of the old regime. Now an infamous regiment of warriors and assassins, their multitude of blades were currently hidden from the naked eye by various articles of clothing, none of which stood out from the crowd. The formation was defensive, securing the safety of their charge, but could just as easily be shifted to form a kill zone exactly where the heir apparent of House Swain was sitting, eyes alight with crimson power, a power even more ancient than the demon his father wields.
"Can I at least hear your reasoning before I start killing them?" he asked his father, unbridled fury barely contained in his voice. He was sure that there was nothing he had done that was bad enough to be deemed a traitor worthy of an elite execution squad.
"Except Tamara", he realized with a jolt.
She would've been back in Noxus for at least a few days now, and news of treason travels fast. "I can explain the situation regarding Tamara Lautari. There is no need for bloodshed"
"I already know", was the reply, and Heron wasn't really surprised. "And they're not here to kill you. That would've been a waste of lives, elite ones at that. No, the Crimson Elite are here to serve you"
Heron froze at that. That couldn't mean what he thought it meant, right? Especially now, right before this crucial stage of his plan? No, it couldn't be that easy, it never was. But then again, there were no benefits of deceiving him unless the plan was to lower his guard first, so they'd actually stand a chance, but as he reached out to Raum, to coax out the truth from behind the veil of secrets, all he felt was sincerity.
That fact, and its implications, registered in his mind the moment Jericho Swain spoke up, just loud enough for him to hear. "Welcome back to High Command, General Heron"
Master Bedroom, Medarda Mansion House, Bluewind Court, Piltover
The Next Morning
Eloise diligently made her way to the clan master's bedroom, bundles of fresh sheets between her arms. The guards at the entrance to the residential wing stopped her and checked for concealed weapons, and the guards posted outside the bedroom door did the same thing, but even more thoroughly. All of this was to ensure that no one else in the family comes to any harm after young master Jae was found brutally murdered two weeks ago.
After the guards opened the door for her, Eloise dropped the sheets and screamed, stumbling back out of the room. Jago Medarda was on the bed, lifeless eyes staring straight up, his face frozen in terror. The long opening across his neck was only starting to scab over as the edges sizzle and blister with a sickly shade of green.
At the foot of the bed was the Medarda sigil painted into the wooden floor. A bloodied steel blade was embedded in the middle, a piece of paper baring the Duke's symbol hanging from its hilt.
Author's Note: This chapter was… wild to write. First of all, to address the inevitable reviews and messages saying that Swain and LeBlanc having a kid is completely OOC, there is a story behind that, something I'll get to in the future. Heron being Swain's kid was planned from the start, one of the ideas that started my development of him and not something I just squeezed in out of nowhere.
Secondly, I hope that this chapter managed to capture the spirit of the arc, and the story as a whole. I promise that Heron isn't a generic bad guy who just wants to conquer and kill 'for Noxus', but that's to be explored down the line.
Thirdly, I have a twitter that you can follow for more frequent updates on story progress and any changes in plans that may occur. Link is in my bio.
I hoped you've enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I've enjoyed writing it, and I'll see you all next time.
