#kino Medarda

[cl-0v3r]

Is Mel Medarda a Fox?

Short answer: no.

I've seen a lot of people calling Mel a Fox by the end of the season, saying "oh she painted over her painting with gold, she's choosing the fox way!"

I disagree with that statement.

The Fox & Wolf tactic is used by the Medarda family, as her mother had told her in episode 8 "You must learn to be both the fox and the wolf" Mel, however, never liked the idea of being a wolf as shown from both her backstory and overall throught the season where she's only ever going to bring the 'wolf' tactic onto the table is if its as a last resort, or an act of self defense/ a counter measure. The idea of taking a life when there was other less-bloody solutions horrifies her, to the point where a single memory of a bloodied necklace LIVES over her bed and haunts her, giving her a reminder of its horror.

so Mel is clearly no way a wolf, she was banished because she did not live to it's standards, and the whole point of her character is to be against that sort of thing.

So is she a Fox? Well, in the beggining, yes.

Mel, influenced by her brother, wanted to do what he was doing after she was sent to piltover, the Fox tactic. talking her way through things without the need of physical violence. And it has worked for the most part, she got a seat on the council and continued to talk and talk, became the richest person there from her sharp tongue, and even managed to make piltover have more importance in the map. And she believed that if she could keep it up, then she could prove to her mother and family that they were wrong, that unessecary bloodshed should not be the first option on the list, that she wasn't as weak as they thought she was and she did everything without the wolf way like how Kino was trying to do.

but when Ambessa came to Piltover to put her hands on hextech weaponry, she told Mel that Kino had unfortunately died because he made the wrong decision, And that changed EVERYTHING. The way of the Fox didn't work.

with the current problems piltover has with Zaun, the fox tactic won't work in this situation, and Kinos death was the proof of that. He never made it, so neither will she.

So if the wolf tactic doesn't work, neither does the fox, where does that leave mel? Should she just let things happen?? Abseloutely not.

To be a Wolf, you must be Violent, Harsh, And Straight forward.

To be a Fox, you must be Sly, Manipulative and sneaky with things.

The fox was never made for peace, no. The fox approach was STILL used by the Medardas and they NEVER pushed for peace and mercy, quoting back to Ambessa AGAIN with the same exact line: "if you want to last in this world, you must learn how to be both the fox and the wolf." They did not just stick to the wolf tactic, but the fox too. It's like they either only Wolf, or Wolf and fox. NEVER only the fox. Kino was the only one that had used the fox. Yet he was never banished, and thats because he was a fox and nothing else, was he against bloodshed? Probably, but not completely. he was most likely still harsh with his words, and was not as 'gentle' as mel was. He was not soft towards death. He wasn't Merciful And that was enough for their standards.

So why was Mel banished? Because she was Mel. Mel wasn't like kino, never was. she didn't have his traits despite the fact that she wanted to be a fox like him. She wanted mercy.

And this is an important point.

Later on, on episode 9, we see Mel painting her canvas with streaks of gold, representing the fact that she is no longer going to let the Medardas stop her from doing things differently, followed by her leaving her ring.

The color gold represents mel, it's an important part of her character, and colors in arcane play a big role in it's characters.

Keep in mind that Red is the color of the Medardas, INCLUDING KINO. Its the color of the wolf and the FOX.

So for her to cover the painting of those red ships with gold, means that she is choosing to no longer be a Medarda. No longer someone that takes and takes, not a fox, nor a wolf. she is doing things the mel way, pushing for peace and mercy and nothing else. She isn't mel medarda anymore, she is Mel.

And that means that if she dies, she doesn't die a medarda like kino, but rather dies as MEL. Her ring being taken off is a symbol that she's not a fox nor a wolf, Not Ambessa nor Kino.

The Wolf approach? Harsh and bloody

The Fox approach? Sly and manipulative

The Mel approach? Peaceful and merciful.

Now, Mel is Mel, and in that last episode of season one, she used the same tactic that got her Banished.

I really hope this made sense.

[melmedarda]

Praying that Medardaheads eat good in season 2, I need to know Kino, I need LORE.

[mybeautifulwifearcane]

genuinely going fucking crazy over the fact that we know next to nothing about kino. tell me about him. who is he. arcane writers. please. can anyone hear me

[lullabyes22-blog]

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO - Ch: 24 - Love

Snippet:

She said, "I've asked the Chross fellow about you."

"Have you?"

"I'm told you're gung-ho about revolting against Piltover." She lounged like a surfeited lioness across the sofa. "Can see it's true. You've got a few scars to show for it."

Silco tipped a shoulder, refusing to be goaded.

"Scars are the map of a man's choices, as the old Shurimans used to say. But a chip on the shoulder is a different matter." Her fierce eyes narrowed. "I'll tell you right now, boy. We've no interest in getting tangled in Deep-Trench rubbish."

The word boy pinged off Silco's skull, even as he kept his face passably calm. She couldn't have been more than a decade older than himself. Yet he sensed this wasn't a habitual phrasing, so much as her way to get under his skin. Testing his mettle.

He said, "I've no interest in Noxian war-mongering. But—"

"But what?"

"For the moment, our aims appear to dovetail."

"Do they indeed?"

Silco rested his elbows on his knees, and his chin on his locked hands. His voice was quiet, his stare unbroken. "The layout to the routes is yours. So is my surety that they are safe. All I need in exchange… are a few of your supplies."

Medarda's broad face pulled a dubious expression. "I thought you weren't interested in Noxian warfare."

"I'm interested in the weapons you're shipping."

AO3 - Forward, But Never Forget/XOXO

FFnet - Forward, But Never Forget (XOXO)

Playlists, Fanarts & Meta

Summary:  Zaun is free—and must grow into its unfamiliar new dimensions. So must Silco and Jinx. A what-if that diverges midway through the events of episode 8. Found family and fluff, politics and power, smut and slice-of-life, villainy and vengeance.

Tagging List:

@the-blue-quetzalcoatl @frostybearpaws @klorophile @kothelina @lilyreira @hannibalcatharsis @tiredblueann @typewriteringalaxy @theillestofomens @erikadarleyensis @testsubject24601 @elviriel @inconspicuouspotatosack @heroinejinx @aliaa-j @zaunite-leo @silcodependent @karnaca78 @aeolid-funkt @me-and-my-hyperfixations @yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy @medic-simp @cthezaunite @evren-d @flower-of-zaun @villainsidechick @spoczkotszcz @realitycanbewhateveridesire @opheliawillowbrook @nogurlstoy @mj678 @revelisms @shahs1221 @gingersforeverbox @inkshine @silcosmoke @ravenkinnie @letters-to-rosie @lbulldesigns @slavicbeastie @constantfragmentation @danally20 @thatlonelyweeb @callmeanifan-blog @thekelpiekid @not-yet-the-wolf @beardedladyqueen @littledollll

[mollysunder]

How the Medardas Ran Afoul of Noxus (Probably)

The more I think about the Medarda Family, the more I realize how obviously they were all going to end up on Swain's shitlist. One of the more relevant things to know about Noxus next season is that Swain's coup will not just depose the current emperor, but he's also going to purge a number of old Noxian noble family. Swain will get rid of not just those who betrayed him, but those he considers a detriment to the empire. These are supposed to be families that enjoy unearned positions or, in general, betray Noxus and its ideals.

First, we have Kino. The most defining aspect that we know about Kino is that he believes that "war is a failure of statecraft". War IS Noxus's state craft! It's the reason the empire exists, it's the mechanism to how it's meritocracy functions. Where anyone can advance in society, nobleman or former slave, everyone is supposed to start at the bottom on the battlefield and work up. I'm curious how Kino could have navigated Noxian society and all its veterans with that kind of attitude. Obviously, he wielded a good deal of political influence to a cross a man more powerful than Ambessa, but did he have to go on the battlefield for it? Even if he did, these kinds of comments would only inspire suspicion in him and to his allegiance to Noxus.

Then there's Mel, obviously she was exiled, but in the eyes of many she's still under the Medarda family. Like Kino, Mel abhors the brutality of war, which is why she's comfortable building a future for a place dedicated to establishing a focus on "progress" and "peace" like Piltover. But there's another aspect of Mel that doesn't align with Noxus that isn't as highlighted. Mel thinks of power in terms of crowns.

In Mel's flashback, when she shares her idea of who could replace the recently deposed regime, she calls the figure a "queen". When Ambessa offers her the opportunity to rule, Mel says, "You'd give me a throne". That's not how any of that is supposed to work in Noxus.

One of the most interesting aspects of Noxus is that they explicitly do not subscribe to the rule of kings. Under Noxian principles, their rule is unearned because they inherit their titles and impose a system where every citizen remains stationary despite their ability and skill. This isn't to say Noxus doesn't have high ranking nobility, they even technically had an emperor. But they're all supposed to earn their place through service to the empire. All captured territories are supposed to belong to the EMPIRE, not be one noble family's personal fiefdom. If any high-ranking officer of Noxus is assigned a territory, they're called a steward, and someone from the previous regime who swears loyalty to Noxus are designated governor. No one is supposed to be called king or queen to avoid any association with the divine right of kings and the way it stagnates the people. Even the emperor is actually titled the Grand General because he's (in concept) supposed to extend Noxus's border and build its strength first and foremost.

But here's Mel, who as smart as she is, should know better than to play with the idea of queens and crowns for others and herself. And it's not like she ever really let that go. In Piltover, she managed to find a space where she can hold court with all the self-titled "Great" houses. A place where the interests of the state and the interests of Mel's inner circle are essentially interchangeable. Just like the monarchies Noxus criticizes, Piltover offers no upward mobility and expects its citizens to respect their inherited titles.

You could argue that Mel does still integrate some upward mobility into her court by uplifting House Talis. It's technically true. It's mostly inoffensive to move an upper-middle class, factory owning family to the highest echelon of society under her own patronage. But to people like Swain, he'd probably see someone moving a key ally closer to power for their convenience while creating clear access to a source of possibly unlimited power in Hextech. All the while, you're about to have this woman's family executed for treason, and this surviving member would truly not understand how they failed Noxus.

Finally, there's Ambessa. You would think Ambessa would only be guilty by association since she very much seems to epitomize the ideal Noxian warlord. Ambessa's well versed in battle and the politics of Noxus. She uses her strength and cunning to expand Noxus's borders.

The common theme for both Kino and Mel's stories is that when it really mattered Ambessa didn't correct their behavior. Despite how often Ambessa hammered the cruelty of the world, she never corrected the way Mel saw and talked about power. More precisely, she didn't tell Mel that playing royalty gets you at best disparaged by their army and, worse, killed for it.

When it comes to Kino, I imagine that while Ambessa may not have been fully abreast of everything he was doing, she likely had general knowledge of it. Ambessa didn't stop Kino's scheming, and if it's true that he was a part of the Black Rose, a secret society of nobles in Noxus that work to spread their influence in Noxus and beyond for power, and she knew about it, that's a death sentence. For Swain, it's not about crossing him, it's about threatening the empire, if one person or a group of people put themselves above it for their own gain, they're the worst traitors.

And that's Ambessa's true failure to Noxus. She puts her family first. No matter how little her children could fit the mold for Noxus, Ambessa does what she can consider her best at "protecting" them. For Mel, it was sending her away because she couldn't handle Noxus's violence. We still have yet to find out how much she knew about what Kino was doing, but it was interesting that Ambessa focused on the fact Kino "crossed the wrong man" instead of what he was doing to cross him in the first place. It's what makes Ambessa an interesting opposite to Swain, a man who values the survival of Noxus so greatly that he would condemn his parents and family to death for betraying it.

[literaryspinster]

I bet Kino was fine fine

[yourlegaldrug]

My interpretation of Kino Medarda.

The fox man himself

[talesofmetalandmagic]

A concept for Mel Medarda from Arcane as a Champion – the Gold Guardian.

Afte the events of Arcane, she left Piltover and now travels the world on her personalized blimp. She's haunted by her late brother Kino and her mother's constant requests to come back and stop disgracing her family name, but she's made a decision: paint the world in gold.

None of this shall ever happen again.

I took a lot of inspiration from Schnee's video about Mel's symbolism and what the usage of gold means concerning the character. I went with gold and black instead of Mel's canon white to make it look as if she's in permanent grieving mode.

Thanks to @cottoncandyafro for inspiring me to try this study and imagine Mel as a more active player in Arcane.

Picrews: here and here

[summonedglory]

tag drop // mel medarda

[creatingblackcharacters]

I like to submit Ambessa Medarda from Arcane! Mother of Mel Medarda

Season 1 look

Season 2 look

She is a Noxian warlord and statesman. She has two children one of them being Mel. Another one is named Kino. She tried to make them into warriors and leaders to ensure their survival however both Mel and Kino became diplomats. After seeing how Mel disapproval of her actions she sent Mel away to Piltover under the disguise that Mel's ideas would work well with Piltover.

She will be playing a major role in the upcoming war between Zaun and Pilotover in Season 2 by giving Piltover Noxian aid.

I found her interesting with the limited screen time she is given because she can see the weaknesses and political corruption of Piltover. While everyone else in Piltover believe they can handle the problem and that is something they control Ambessa knows that the situation between the two cities won't last long and it won't be long before the situation can no longer be under their control.

(Spoiler alert: she was right)

Her season two look HITS. Fine as hell. Did y'all know I'm into silver foxes? She looks like a woman whose command I'd absolutely accept. The braids in the headpiece, I just.... 😤😤🤌🏾🔥 Whoever designed her loved her for that. The shoulders!!! Ms. Ambessa did not come to play with y'all!!! Again with the limited screen time 😭

I will say, from the little I've heard of her, I'm not surprised with the treatment from fans that I've heard about. She strikes me as the type that people would love (or at least place far more weight on some "piteous but understandable backstory") if she were a handsome salt and pepper white man. But alas, Black and/or women characters that aren't motherly and make cruel or upsetting decisions... Upset people. No room for the "well she's complex/a villain and I love her" type stuff. Well, I fully support her existing as the character she is. Idk what we're talking about, but yeah I'll throw in on her being right.

[thehistoriangirl]

There Are Some Paths Where You Can’t Follow Me

Almost done with the Valentine’s Special (!!!!) Thanks for your patience :3

Mel x fem!Reader--------2.6K------SFW

Synopsis: Mel lost much more than her family support when her mother banished her  to the city of Piltover. Just as nightmares haunt her every other  night, your face is still clear on her memories despite the passing  years.When Hextech puts Piltover on the map, just as the name of the  Medarda who sponsors it, it was only a matter of time to find you  walking into a gala hosted by your long-lost friend.

Tags: Childhood Sweethearts| Second Chance| Mentions of Death/Murder and War| Fluff and Angst| Happy Ending ofc|

Her main hall was filled with people, and yet, her eyes were naturally drawn to yours.  

It should be no surprise for her to see you there—in fact, she had thought you'd taken your time to appear. And yet the hold of her wine's cup faltered as you looked away, eyes sweeping the surrounding of the room, with its high dome and bronze arches colored red and orange not only for the quickly dipping sun but also for the hearths burning at the center of the space.

You seemed unfazed, and a part of her felt a crushing pressure settle on her chest. Perhaps you had forgotten her—you should have. What was the point of keep longing for a past that could never be repeated? Or amended.

More than ten years ago, she had gotten aboard a boat off the coast of Noxus without looking back, because if she had done that, tears would have stained her cheeks while the guards kept their cold stares at her, thinking that her mother did right into sending her away. Because she was weak.

With the necessary years separated that fatal day, she demonstrated they were wrong. Mel was the younger merchant to sit at the Council, and her commerce deals were blooming more successfully than ever since Hextech’s breakthrough.

In parties like this one, her main hall will get filled with foreigners and the richer Piltovan society, all trying to tail her every step in wishes to streak a deal with her—some even said her touch was magical because there where she laid her interest it will fruit gold.

As she walked toward the left end of the hall, toward the balcony, she allowed her mind to think about the past, about how she had to train alone her merchant skills with the little information the far side of her family taught her in spare reunions around the Medarda’s family manor each summer. As she was unfitting for war, the least she could do was keep multiplying the family wealth in a last attempt to make herself useful.

As Mel saw the dipping sun hiding down the port, under the waves, she felt her earrings moving while she shook her head.

Now while looking down at the city—her city, too—her thoughts drifted at the contents inside her chest, locked in her heart. She wasn’t happy at Noxus, not really if she compared her Piltovan lifestyle against her Noxii one; between war boats and walking inside newly conquered forts and castles, with dust still settling down, blood not fully dried. It still haunted her.

No amount of white marble in tall buildings or chatting rooms filled with glistening wine glasses or quiet, domed auditoriums reverberating with a symphony could ever erase them.

Not they could erase you, either. For good or bad, she could never pick.

It was intriguing, she considered as she swirled the thin steam of metal with slow wrists motions, seeing you stepping inside without any shadow following you. For what Kino told her in a letter—after she hinted she wanted to know about you some other letters ago—that you got engaged to a rising general that was working side by side in the conquest of the Freljlord.

Why his family hadn't sent any guards? Even if you decided to dismiss them, they should have entered minutes after you, keeping you safe inside the shadows.

She didn't dare to ask Kino about how your wedding went. Mel could imagine with vivid realism, even if a part of her ached at the sight of your cold eyes laid in this general while making hollow votes of love when everything you were doing was just forging a powerful alliance.

Perhaps, if she'd had been other Mel, one that could endure the sight of death and war without flinching, without the captives and their ghosts following her steps, echoing in the empty, broken halls about her cooperation in this brutality; perhaps, your family would have sought an alliance of such nature with her, a second chance of creating bonds with the Medardas now that Kino had dismissed it the first time.

After all, you had endured the life of a general’s daughter and sister roles so well, that being a general’s wife wouldn’t differ too much. The dread was always there, and she knew you didn’t care about glory and reputation, so losing a battle won’t be important.

Night came with cold winds under its navy blue fingers, painting the sky starred with freckles similar to those adorning Mel’s face. Chandeliers flicked with golden light poured inside the hall, with chatter so energetic as hours before, if not more so now that the wine started to kick in.

Her glass was empty long before she thought about heading inside to find a servant to refill it. The possibility of encountering was very high, and she wasn’t convinced about what she would do in that case. Apologize? Ignore you? Feign oblivion?

Any of them sat right. She didn't want to see other people listening from their proximity, stealing curious glances as Councilor Medarda apologized vaguely to this Noxii woman that always stared at you as if she were bored as if she didn't care.

Another good mask you crafted even before she could make hers.

The echoed footsteps approaching almost made her flinch, pretending to shift her position as the other person settled next to her, far enough to be considered respectful, but close for her to take in the citric essence of your lotion.

Noxii oranges cultivated in your family’s manor garden. Little and round, but full of sweet juice that made the suffocating summer months more pleasant—or maybe it was because you were there, too.

Mel kept the silence, a charged cord of electricity that was ready to snap as you gazed at the boulevards extending over the city, the tall buildings of the Council and the Academy painted in blue tones.

She looked at you from the corner of her eye, wanting to ask if you liked the view.

I thought I’d never see you again.

Instead, she settled with: “Congratulation on your marriage,” she thanked her voice was steady and nonchalant. “I apologize for not sending a gift.”

You chuckled, but it sounded more like a sigh. “Better that way. It would have been a loss of time.” Your shoulders shrugged, and part of the thin dark veil over your shoulders slipped down, revealing the uneven sleeves of your dark red dress.

She doubted it. "How it was?" Mel found herself asking, even if the underlying question was if you had felt happy if you were happy.

“A bad omen, some may say.” You laughed, eyeing a zeppelin passing by. “I’m a widow now.”

Mel’s eyes widened. “Pardon?” Why didn’t her brother tell her about it?

“Two weeks after the wedding. He went into a battle in the Freljlord and never came back.” The lightness of your voice concerned her, surprising her solidified thought of you being content with your life back in Noxus. "A rising house, crushed under a stroke of bad luck. But so is life, isn't it?"

She blinked, a furrow on her brow. “Crushed?”

It was the second time of the evening for you to connect your gaze, this time over the flicking shadows of the chandelier in the hall, the torches lit in the balcony. Your expression was neutral as you took her features in, analyzing if they had changed—and Mel asked herself that, too.

“His mother spread rumors about how I created witchcraft to kill him so quickly," the words escaped your mouth easily, your eyes cast away from hers now. She tightened her clasp in her cup. "A foolish move, but I can understand a mother's grief."

You, not my family.

“What happened after?” The rumors subsided so quickly they wouldn’t reach Mel, who knows how many people knew, but once again—it was a foolish move to target a member of the Callestars.

"She died," you answered, and Mel wasn't surprised that you didn't comment on her how she did. "My husband's manor will become part of my soon-to-be sister-in-law's dowry."

“I didn’t know Ewan Callestar was getting married.”

You smiled softly. “Me either, until two days ago.”

Silence remained heavy between you two, a string tangled in Mel’s heart and mind, becoming fuzzy and difficult to find the words—any words.

“I’m sorry,” she said, putting the cup on the thick marble rail of the balcony, half-turning her body toward you. You tilted her head, looking at her beneath your eyelids. Mel didn’t specify for what she was apologizing, she wanted to interpret it yourself, to take whatever you wanted from her, from her words, so it could make it easier.

You didn’t bait.

“Don’t.” The detached, snapping tone of your voice startled her. “There’s worthless now.”

It’s worthless now, and yet, why was Mel's chest compressed in such a hurtful way?

You gestured to the hall, people looking at Mel to express they were heading home as she sent her farewell with a tilt of her head.  “I should go, too.”

There was only fair to be you to leave her alone this time—this once being forever. But she couldn't bring herself to agree.

“What brought you here today?” She tried to remain the merchant Mel, the Councilor, with her careful threaded words, her expression neutral.

But you weren’t having any of her façades. You never did.

“I wanted to see your house,” you stated, and she felt her brows knitting with curiosity. “It’s not painted gold as I imagined it would be.”

You remembered. You had recollected your silly conversation of youth when you both were vising Ionia and Shurima, every city conquered, every castle seized as Mel would walk among the ruins to imagine a rebuilding future, with all the terrors cast away, replaced by splendor and stability.

Her lips extended in a smile so soft it was a ghostly memory of that same expression when she could lay in freshly cut grass outside the Callestar manor, you next to her as you peeled an orange for her when you would joke about her past lessons with the always grumpy and stiffened teacher.

“Decorating using too much gold is seen as tasteless here, darling." The words flew out her mouth without questioning, still transfixed in the memory, of the past that somehow had extended through this new land, through the space your presence used to occupy, now that you came to reclaim it.

You were still her darling, was she still your dearest?

Mel tried to search for your eyes, and she found them twinkling.

“And yet this city uses more gold foil in their external architecture, I had to wonder if it was like this when you arrived—or if it’s a new trend influenced by someone.”

As you spoke, the words got stabbed into her chest, leaving a hollow, dripping hole. When she arrived Piltover—when she left you.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, thinking that not even a myriad of thousand apologies would fix the past.

Instead of denying it, you leaned against the cold rail, eyes gazing over the far coast, down the port. “Did you ever look back?” you muttered, slowly enough for your low tone not to be carried away by the nightly wind. “Did you ever hear me?”

She did. Her name echoed in the open bay, the guards facing her, cold stares, and a glistening curiosity that sent daggers of stares through her shoulder blades as she walked down into her cabin, where her screams couldn't be heard.

Another ghost that followed her, and another guilt piled up on her shoulders.

“I couldn’t let you abandon everything to follow the steps of a useless banished daughter.”

Your gaze darted to her, digging inside of her soul as you scanned her supposedly tranquil expression as if you could identify the slightly fluttering rhythm of her heartbeat.

“I’m a useless banished daughter too, Mel.”

Her feet slipped from her well-rehearsed posture. “What?”

"Didn't I just tell you? My family wiped down a house and seized all its riches." You tried to shrug, but your shoulders were too rigid, your nerves like an over-extended elastic. "They got what they wanted, I'm not useful to them anymore."

She didn't know what to say, and you probably didn't want her to try to console you. That had never been you.

So she just waited.

"I hope you hadn't chosen for me that day, Mel.” You walked a step closer, so close the long skirt of your dress brushed hers. “My family had traced my every path, I had hoped you let me choose." You shook your head, strands of hair starting to fall from your hairstyle. "I think it's better if I go now."

You stepped back, ready to walk away. But she wasn't ready. Mel was never ready, not even when that same scene of you screaming for her at the port repeated on a loop inside her head for years.

"Why don't you stay?" she commented, trying to sound casual, but the slight creak in her voice betrayed her poise.

Your heels stopped mid-step, breaking the steady rhythm as you were almost halfway inside the hall. Your back turned to her, but the contrast between the lights and the dark outside couldn't let her see your expression.

"Do you want me to stay?" It was a careful question, voice stopping at each word as if weighing the real meaning of the sounds rolling off your tongue.

Did she? Mel blinked, her heart feeling frenetic. “I do.”

“Why?” you asked. You had to always ask why, especially now. Because you never got to ask so before.

And it was more than a simple word, it was so many questions tucked at the corner of a room you both tried to ignore for so long, a locked closet filled with memories.

“Because I miss you,” Mel said out loud—finally out loud—, walking closer so she could extend her hand down to yours. "I've missed you all these years, but I couldn't allow myself to be selfish and look for you. I was scared to bring you down dishonored like me." She stopped shaky breaths out, feeling tiny and naked as if a breeze of air would take her away as she stood there, waiting for your judgment. "I was scared you'd say no—because I still love you.”

You turned in a red daze, and she felt your hand slowly taking in hers, fingers interlaced. "I would never say no to you, my dearest," you said, pressing her palm slightly.

Her eyes widened when she heard you, thinking that perhaps time wouldn’t have passed after all, that everything was in its place as she leaned in to kiss you, the first one in so long.

It felt like coming back home, in the sweet brush motion of your lips, hands still in one another.

"I missed you too, Mel," you whispered, like a secret that had been maintained inside of your chest, relieved at finally could it be rest inside her heart, where it belonged. "But I'm here now, and I won't let go."

The smile that spread her lips made her go back to those bright days that she knew, deep inside, would come back as long as you were next to her.

“Me either.” Not again. Not ever. And so she kissed you again, just to lie her promise inside your heart, unbreakable.

[melmedarda]

Arcane fans whose favorite characters are already in game champions are so lucky. They have so much lore that they can pursue a PhD in their character. Meanwhile, Mel stans, Sevika stans, Silco stans, and the rest who aren't in game, barely have an associates.

[eddawrites]

Some underrated fic recommendations with juicy Medarda family dynamics bits:

You're Blind, You Bleat, You Bare Your Claws by sashawire

Ambessa and her cunning pet spy/lover/husband/father of her children, with a hefty dose of traumatising young Mel and a sprinkle of Kino.

Bite by @h1bernate

A take on Mel's exile from Noxus, featuring Elora being sus but not so aptly that Mel wouldn't sus her out.

Banish by @tacticalgrandma

Mel/Jayce as observed by Elora, with Ambessa ever lurking, ever pulling strings from behind the scenes.

Birds of a Feather by Linka_from_Captain_Planet

Elora and Mel relieving their Noxus-related traumas through a peculiar coping mechanism. NSFW.

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO - A Breed Who Never Go Hungry

Young Silco has an encounter with a family of Noxians. Who could they be? :3

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

"Siegfried the Conqueror. Sea-king of Ironwater."

Silco didn't bother to feign wisdom. "Never heard of him."

"That's because he never made it to the page." The Captain's lip curls at the corner. "My daughter dreamt him up."

"She made this?"

"She makes all sorts." There was a father's pride in his voice. "A gift for art. A gift for storytelling."

"Do you sell them?"

"A hefty price, you understand, for what's essentially a fancy of youth. They're not yet ready for the world, little eel. She's an artist with plenty to learn. A few more years, maybe. For now, they’re all mine." The Captain looked fondly upon the fresco. "Soon, she’ll dream up her next piece. City of oil-slicks and slum-dwellers, maybe."

He gestured to a chamber on the far end of the corridor.  The door was open a crack. A beautiful hanging lantern peeped out, the luminous focal point of a vignette of coffee-colored wood, rich carpeting, and cream walls. Two young voices—a boy's and a girl's—lapped in dulcet harmony.

The Captain leaned in, finger to his lips. "They're neck-deep in lessons. My son and daughter. Her first voyage past the Immortal Bastion. His final."

"Final?"

"He'll be away to a war-campaign in the Placidium. Advisor to the High Command. We'll watch him from afar, see how he fares. He's clever; can keep his head down. Listen and learn." A chuckle. "My own father used to say war is the best school of survival. If you're lucky enough to survive it."

Despite himself, Silco peered through the crack.  A boy—early twenties—lazed cross-legged in a cushioned settee. He was a handsome one. He could've been a painting himself: chiseled features, smooth brown skin, a crop of raven curls, and striking eyes that reflected a lantern-lit room like bronzed mirrors.

He was reciting from an open book in his lap.

"A ruler who has moved into a new region with a different language and customs must also make himself leader and protector of the weaker neighboring powers, while doing what he can to undermine the stronger. In particular, he must take care that no foreign power strong enough to compete with his own gets a chance to penetrate the area. Why is that?"

"Because a discontented people, out of fear or frustrated ambition, will always encourage a foreign power to intercede," his sister said with a gentle confidence. She was in her late teens: a slim frame, dark hair upswept into a bun, and the same amber eyes. But she lacked the boy's classical beauty. Hers was more natural: an open countenance, bright-eyed and inquisitive. "The solution, then, is to make peace with the weaker neighboring regions. In exchange for favor, they'll give him information."

"Right," the boy said. "And should he be willing to trade favors?"

"He must! Without concessions, the neighbors will grow resentful and rebel against him. And they're better than the alternative."

"Which is?"

"War," she said matter-of-factly. "War is a costly thing. It takes time. It's risky. It's uncertain. The only certainty is that a foreign power would love nothing more than to snatch an opportunity when it rises. Therefore, a ruler must forge relations with the neighbor-states. With his own strength and their support, he can easily undermine the more powerful adversaries and hence dominate the region."

The boy grinned. "Very astute, Mel."

The girl beamed. "Thank you, Kino."

"Were you quoting Johannas?"

"Agasias," she corrected. "One of my favorites."

"Good taste. That quote's from the Treatise on the Universal Polity, isn't it?"

"Not quite," the girl said. "The Universal Polity was written in the year 931 after the Shattered Era. The Agias treatise was written in 934, three years after the Shattering, in the reign of King Vas. They're two very different texts."

The boy lifted a teasing brow. "One on war, one on peace. Different texts, indeed."

They spoke in silken vowels without a trace of the Captain's weatherworn Va-Nox.  Two scions of privilege, steeped in the traditions of their homeland. Their refinement verged on unreal; their rapport inexplicable. In the Sumps, it was difficult to find youngsters who could read, let alone engage in such rarefied banter.

Perhaps, Silco thought bitterly, there's a special breed afforded such civility.

A breed who never go hungry.

[mollysunder]

One day I'm gonna make a post about how Mel Medarda has no friends except for Elora, probably. Seriously, it feels like she was the last to hear her brother was dead. Kino sounded like a pretty important guy, so his death, and it sounds like it was an assassination, would have been pretty big news, and Mel has to hear it from her estranged mom. It reminded me of the scene where Babette played dumb with Vi and didn't tell her she knew what happened to Jinx, Babette didn't want to put herself and her business at risk for this now distant friend. Same thing probably applied to Mel.

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

stay for the night (i'll sell you a dream): ch 23

Losing Sight of Home

AO3

Mel Medarda is a creature of war and bloodshed, as is the truth with most Medardas. Ambessa Medarda, her mother, embraces it, wears it on her skin and brandishes it as her weapon. Her scars are tattoos of the most beautiful and iridescent ink, a permanent reminder of her strength, of her power. 

Kino? Kino is different. He barricades himself away from the almost genetic inheritance that comes with the Medarda name with kind words and balancing acts. Ambessa calls him weak and a coward, hiding behind books and diplomacy to pretend he’s any better than her. Mel thinks it’s intriguing how he proves himself through intricate games of chess in the form of politics.

Not that her mother cares. In her eyes, Kino isn’t a Medarda, he’s too soft to be one. So, in an effort to have at least one of her children carry on the legacy of war, she turned to Mel.

Her mother spent many years slowly carving away parts of herself and replacing them with the flesh of corpses and dying ideals. She tried to be more like Kino, tried to find the compromise of peace and power. Every time, Ambessa would look at her with a face of disgust and mutter about her being a failure of the family, just loud enough to reach her.

At some point, she started to play along, just to be able to escape the cruel words and looks. Let her body be replaced with war and violence, replacing skin with brilliant gold and blood with pride.

And in the background, she plans. She makes connections to merchants and political leaders, makes her moves in the shadows of her mother’s overbearing bloody glow. Bit by bit, day by day, letter by letter, she plots her escape. Kino got away with his graceful dancing on ballroom floors and smiles that spoke thousands of words. She’ll get away with everything their mother gave her.

War and bloodshed.

-

Piltover. The Land of Progress. It welcomes Mel with open arms, opening its doors like she was an old friend. Maybe, in a way, she is. She remembers coming here with her mother once, a pitstop in a vacation after a particularly bloody revolution was squashed. Back then, she never thought she’d return.

For a city named for progress, it hasn’t changed much. The buildings are the same, few new stores have opened, and the old ones seem to be stuck in a permanent stasis of the “good old days”. The Council hasn’t changed in decades, and the founder of Piltover (Heimerdinger, was it?), is still in charge. 

It’s laughably easy to get onto the Council. A few sharp smiles, soft words, and gold coins in just the right places, and it takes days for her to get a seat. At least here, sitting at the gear shaped table, she understands why. Most of the Councilors are petty and superficial at best, with the exception of Heimerdinger, who seems to be the only one with any amount of sensibility. He thinks things through, doesn’t do things exclusively for profit. An actually useful ally to have, not that using the others won’t be useful as well.

From there it takes little time to gain favor of the others, and accrue wealth through setting up successful trade with her own family’s kingdom under an alias. From there she grows, adds more, rises in both notoriety and wealth. She sends a letter to Kino to thank him for showing her how. He never gets around to answering it.

It doesn’t matter.

She hopes that he’s proud.

-

She watches as Heimerdinger has an adventurous merchant exiled for meddling with magic. She doesn’t say anything, she has too many eyes watching her still, even as she becomes the most wealthy person in Piltover (and yet Kino got triple the amount she has now in half the time, what is she doing wrong?). She can’t afford to put her lot into actual progress when it could cause the beginning of her fall. No, she’ll wait until a more certain path appears, bide her time.

She’ll drag Piltover into the sky and make it shine, she just needs the right set of wings.

-

Viktor of the Undercity is an enigma if Mel’s ever seen one. He’s passionate, he’s bright, he’s fierce, and he’s Heimerdinger’s assistant. If her line of work had anything to do with the types of experiments and inventions he made at the Academy, she would have offered him a position under her. If she had, he would have died of boredom and routine.

Hearing him speak about separating the Undercity (Zaun, he called it) and Piltover is the most exciting thing to happen in months. He makes his points with a righteous fire, crafts his argument carefully and quickly. The two people he brings with him, Silco and Vander, support him easily and with a familiarity that only comes from spending years near each other.

She wonders if they raise their families differently down there. If they have strict nuclear systems, have tight knit family circles, or is it looser? Are the lines of family and friend blurred and changed?

Or is there violence? Domination and destruction? War. Bloodshed. Victory. A childhood like hers.

Bolbok’s voice nudges Mel out of her internal monologue. “This is a meeting about enforcers in the Undercity.”

But is it? Has he even been listening to the argument brought forwards? This is about enforcers in the Undercity, these people are from there.

“Your enforcers have killed children.” Viktor says, his voice barely hiding its waver. “They have destroyed families and livelihoods while telling us that it was for the better. Sending down more won’t stop crime because the enforcers, in their violence, have only made it a necessity to survive.”

Mel ignores the voice of her mother trying to tell her that he’s weak. Ignores that she comes from a family that has done so much worse. 

“Every coin down there is tied to illegalities.” Salo argues, and the glare that Viktor gives him is one of fury and death. 

“Maybe so,” He starts, and from the way his body shifts, he’s trying to not launch himself at her fellow Councilor. “But it’s hard for that not to be possible when most of the coin and wealth of Piltover lives in the pockets of few.”

Mel wants to laugh at the thick and heavy silence that fills the room. She knows he’s talking about everyone on the Council, how could he not? The murderous gleam in his eyes, the way his muscles tense with barely hidden fury, she knows that they’ve been sewn into the same pattern, made by different cloth. Creatures of violence and bloodshed. Monsters made by war. Wherever he goes, he’ll be great. After all, she did the same.

-

Mel never paid too much attention to the Academy that Heimerdinger runs. So many graduates, so little progress. Ironic, really. So many alumni of the Academy move away to different cities and kingdoms to pursue their goals, each similar enough in their ideas to never make a lasting impression on her. Few students catch her eye. Viktor is one of them, and so is the one who exploded his apartment. 

To hear that one of them is on trial is fascinating. She never thought that any of the students at the Academy would have the guts to do illegal experiments. She wonders what exactly this one did to be put on trial in front of the Council, nothing inhumane certainly, the Enforcers would be talking much more if that were the case.

She gently prods people into telling her something, anything. She relies on Piltover’s habit of spreading gossip to get even the smallest bit of information, and yet she gets nothing. At least, not until a few hours after Grayson’s investigation of the penthouse is over.

“He’ll get off light.” An enforcer laughs at her friend as Mel walks past them. “He’s Heimerdinger’s golden boy, after all.”

She doesn’t hear the other enforcer’s response, too focused on what was given to her. Heimerdinger’s favorite student, on trial for illegal experiments. She smiles, and moves faster. This is going to be fun.

-

Talking to Elora is always a pleasure. She listens and lets Mel rant about what she wants to do for Pilover, how she wants to mold it and prove how good it can be. This doesn’t mean she trusts Elora, she doesn’t trust anyone on principle. She never lets Elora know that she knows more than she lets on, either. She made her role a long time ago, she’s long used to playing it.

“What of today’s trial?” She knows what it is, she’s been looking forward to this from the moment she knew, but it doesn’t hurt to get some sort of confirmation.

Elora looks at her clipboard. “His name is Jayce of House Talis.” Ah, so that’s his name. Consider her interest piqued, if it could even be called that at this point.

“Remind me?”

“They’re toolmakers.” Elora flips through her papers. “I believe they came to renown for their design of the … collapsible pocket wrench.”

Mel hums, looking at all the gadgets and toys spread across the bench. “But Heimerdinger favors him?” He does, she knows.

“As far as I can tell.”

Mel hums again, picking up a round thing with blue and pink pieces, inlaid with what is probably faux gold. “This one.”

The sniveling man (how long has he been here? She should know, it’s a liability to not know.) seems to become nervous. “But that’s- uh- but that’s a child’s toy.” He stammers, and vicious glee wraps around her insides.

“Good.”

-

Mel walks up to Hoskel, toy in hand. Rounding his chair, she places it next to him and smiles. “For your birthday Councilor.”

Hostel startles slightly, having not noticed her approach even though her heels were rather loud on the polished floors. “Ah, Mel, this is too kind.” He picks up the toy and starts to play with it, and she knows that she has him (again).

“I’m told it was built only for the sharpest of minds.” The lie slips off her tongue with practiced ease, and she glances subtly at Salo and hides a smirk as his “gift” was refused with childish anger.

She sits down as the doors open, and almost gasps as Jayce of House Talis walks into the room. He’s handsome, she’ll admit that much, and as the blinds put the place into darkness, she smiles.

“Jayce Talis.” Cassandra’s voice is loud in the heavy silence, and light shines upon Talis as he looks down. “You are accused of illegal experimentation and endangering the citizens of Piltover. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Mel watches his face carefully, and it’s obvious he wears everything he has on his sleeve. The muscles in his body are tense as he moves a leather bracelet back and forth on his hand. “The materials were far more dangerous than I was aware of,” He starts, voice full bone deep exhaustion, but from what? “And I- I now know that my actions were against Academy regulations. What I did endangered people. It was reckless, and for that, I’m sorry.”

Genuinity. So fresh, so raw, so rare it’s almost refreshing, but Mel has been in this game for long enough to know that while he’s regretful for the consequences his actions caused, he’s not regretful of whatever he was doing to take those actions. How interesting.

“I ask the Council’s forgiveness, and I hope that I can continue my studies.”

What are your studies, she wants to ask. Why did you do this, why did you have such volatile things in your penthouse? What were you doing?

“As Jayce’s patron of many years, I can speak for his character.” Cassandra speaks up again. “I believe that one day he will be a great contributor to our society.”

Hoskel laughs, and the vicious, bloody part of Mel carved and sewn into her very soul wants to have him rendered mute, but that part of Mel has been dormant for far too long to make a difference. “He destroyed a building. Is this the sort of contribution we can expect?”

“If you were a scientist you’d know you can’t make a prototype without breaking a few wrenches.” Heimerdinger counters, and oh this is delightful. The debate, the fight between the materialistic and those who use them.

“Do you have anything to show for your work besides an explosion?” Mel asks. Tell me your secrets, tell me what you were doing.

“Uh, no. It came to nothing.” It looks like the sky has fallen onto his shoulders, and he’s slowly being crushed.

But Mel knows his type. If Talis exploded a building doing something, he would have put an immense amount of effort and emotion into it. It’s all about bringing that emotion out. “So you’re saying your study was meaningless?”

There’s a furrow of his brow, and for the first time since this started he looks up. There you are. “It was revolutionary!”

“Revolutionary how? All I see is a boy meddling with things he doesn’t understand.” Take it, rise up to the challenge.

“The Academy seems to have loosened its standards.”

Never before has Mel appreciated Salo’s particular brand of degradation, because it sets everyone else off.

“This is a fine line. If we condone this, what’s next?”

“Ridiculous, really.”

“The Council has more important matters to deal with.”

The voices get louder, they overlap each other into a tower of bitterness and anger, and Mel watches as the muscles hiding under Talis’s clothes start to twitch. He straightens his shoulders, and Mel knows that he’s been caught.

“I was trying to create magic!”

The breath is taken out of Mel’s lungs. Magic? She’s only heard tales of what magic can do, and knows that you need to have a predisposition to use it. If he’s really trying to make magic as someone who can’t use it . . .

In barely a moment, Jayce has caught Mel with his own trap, one he didn’t even know he had been making.

“Magic?” Hoskel seems livid.

“Arcane talents are something you’re born with. They can’t be fabricated.” Shoola’s metallic fingers tap on the table to emphasize her point.

“Actually, I believe it is possible.”

There’s a cutting silence, one that Mel will not let stay.

“Has anyone even tried it before?” You are a possibility.

“The Arcane is the curse of our world.” Bolbok speaks up. “My race was nearly destroyed by it.”

“Surely, we, the pioneers of science, can use it for good.” He speaks with everything he has, he believes this with everything he has. If he loses this, what will be left of him? “We’re the champions of discovery. Why fear it when we can master it?” There’s desperation in his voice, and he knows as well as Mel that this is all that he has.

“Jayce, enough.” Heimerdinger tries to stop him, but Mel wants to hear more. What were you doing?

“This is the city of progress, think of the wonders we could create. Let me prove-”

“Enough!” Heimerdinger screams, and everything is silent again. “You don’t understand what’s at stake.” A look of sadness flickers in his eyes. “But how can you? That’s a burden that only I here carry.”

He looks at Talis with the knowledge of someone who has lived centuries. “Time. I’ve seen this power in the wrong hands. It corrupts, consumes, lays waste to civilizations.”

Like her mother. Like Mel. Like all the Medardas that came before.

“That cannot happen here, my boy. It must not.”

Talis looks like his heart was torn to shreds in front of him.

“Heimerdinger is right.” Shoola pipes up. “Piltover was founded to escape the warmongering of mages, not cultivate it.”

“The Ethos is clear. He must be banished from Piltover.” Bolbok says, and Mel knows deep within her that if that happens, she will destroy Piltover from the inside out. She looks at Talis, who seems to be choking on terror.

“Please, let me speak!” A voice from the crowd yells, and a woman walks forwards. This must be Ximena Talis, Jayce Talis’s mother. “As a lower house, my voice doesn’t carry much weight here. But as a mother, I have a voice that matters deeply. My son isn’t in his right mind.”

Jayce Talis looks like the world has fallen from under his feet, and in a way, it probably has. The hand that’s been twisting the bracelet stops, and his knuckles turn white.

“His entire life, he’s chased an impossible dream. What he did was foolish and unwise. But he has a good heart. Please, let him come home.” It’s a desperate plea, just like her son’s earlier.

Salo narrows his eyes. “A crime like this can’t be overlooked. The boy must be punished.”

“A violation of the Ethos calls for banishment, but I can sympathize with a young man’s dream to change the world.” Heimerdinger says, and Mel knows that his favoritism towards Talis is going to save him. “Perhaps in this matter, a lesser sentence may suffice. I move that Jayce be summarily expelled from the Academy, and remanded to the care of his parents. All those in favor?”

In the end, only three stay in the dark. They had never been much for progress anyways.

-

That night, Mel decides to walk around the Academy. She’s never spent much time there, her attention usually focused elsewhere, but as she walks the halls she wonders what it’s like during the day, what classes are the busiest, which ones are the smallest.

Her heels click against the floors, occasionally matching the sound of the guard, who she nods to in the one or two moments that she passes him. It’s almost peaceful, the silent hallways, the steady click-clack of heels against stone, the way her light moves across the dark walls and locked doors.

Which is why it’s so strange when she starts to walk down the hallway of the professors’ rooms to hear hushed muttering and soft clicking noises. She turns the corner and sees two shadowy figures in front of Heimerdinger’s room. She shines her light on them, and reveals Viktor of the Undercity, and Jayce of House Talis. She doesn’t miss how Viktor’s arms tense slightly, his fingers twitch as his face flinches from the sudden light.

“This isn’t my bedroom.” His voice is careful, on edge, while still pretending like he was about to sleep with Talis. Expertly, she might add.

Talis is the first to recover.

“Please, we can prove that it works.”

Good, she thinks in the first moment. Of course it’s with Viktor, is what she thinks in the second. But she has a part to play, one that has started to shift.

“You couldn’t do so earlier today. How is tonight any different?” Tell me what changed, was it Viktor, was it the desperation of losing the one thing you had?

She’s watching Talis, but the answer comes from the crouched man below her. “We figured out how to stabilize it.”

Now that she thinks about it, she’s never really seen Viktor’s face, only looked at glimpses, heard stories. Even when he was giving his big declaration to the Council, she was more focused on the two older, taller men with him than Viktor himself. “You’re the Professor’s assistant.” She tells him. I know who you are and what you’re risking.

“No.” She looks back at Talis. The way he looked when he started talking about what his explosive project was really about, that image is nothing compared to what he looks like now. “He’s my new partner.” He smiles at Viktor with so much warmth, with so much hope-

So that’s what changed. He has something new to care about, something alongside making magic.

“Even if you manage to prove your theory, the Council would destroy it.” They need to be fully aware of what’s at risk. She needs to know that they’re willing to take risks. That they’ll lose as much as she could.

“Heimerdinger will recognize the potential.” Is he convincing her, or himself?

“He already does.” They know this, they both work with the man. “It scares him, it scares them all.”

“And you?”

She moves her whole head this time when she looks at Talis. Something changed, something more than this new alliance.

Play the part.

“I recognize that any worthwhile venture involves risk.”

“They also don’t know fear.”

Mel looks at Viktor, and remembers that they are, on some level, the same creature. How could she forget?

She hears the guard whistling, Talis’s eyes blaze with determination as he steps forwards.

“Councilor, this technology, it’s real. No matter what happens here, it’s going to change our world. We should be the ones to lead it.”

Mel hides a near feral grin as Jayce continues to talk, because this is exactly what she was looking for. A way to change PIltover, a way to put it on the map.

“Impress me.” She says, effectively shutting Talis up. “Or I’d suggest you pack your things.”

As she walks to interrupt the guard (once again), she hopes that she didn’t make a grave mistake. Something within her says that she hasn’t.

-

She watches the two scientists fly in the light blue aura that fills the room. The shattered remains of Viktor’s cane floats around them, like asteroids surrounding celestial bodies. With this, she knows that Piltover won’t only be known across the world, but also to the stars.

She looks at Viktor and Talis, who are smiling and whispering as they orbit each other. She only watches for a few seconds before looking away, the moment too soft for her to look at. Viktor and Jayce, they’ll change the world, and Mel will support them at every step. After all, it’s the least she can do. They deserve such things.

-

It takes mere days for the story to travel around the whole of Piltover, how Jayce Talis changed the future of technology. It doesn’t slip Mel’s mind that Viktor is conveniently left out of the rumors, but she supposes that is to be expected. This is Piltover, after all.

What she doesn’t expect is for a letter from the two scientists, asking if she was available next week to talk over coffee. She says yes, of course, and has Elora clear out her schedule for that day. From what little she knows of both Talis and Viktor, this conversation may take a while.

-

She meets them at their new lab, in a side room with a coffee machine, a table, some chairs, and a mattress covered in blankets. Viktor’s already sitting down when she arrives, and Talis is pouring himself a cup. He’s not wearing any sort of uniform like he had every other time they had met, instead in a slightly oversized sweater and sweatpants.

Talis takes a long drink, sighs, and turns to look at Mel. “Coffee?”

“No, thank you.” Mel declines politely, sitting down at the table. Talis quickly follows, curling around the steaming mug. 

“Thank you for meeting with us, Councilor Medarda.” Viktor inclines his head towards Mel from across the small, circular table. “I hope the coffee is to your liking.”

Viktor sips at his own cup, something that makes Talis flinch.

“I still don’t know how you drink that.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

Talis bumps against Viktor’s shoulder, to which Viktor just grins over the lip of his mug. In two weeks, their entire dynamic has shifted, changed, evolved. She doesn’t know how to feel about that.

Instead of dwelling on that, she decides to figure out what they want from her. “So, what is the reason for bringing me here?”

“The cost of making Hextech is high, much higher than either of us will ever be able to cover.” Talis says. “And while the interest is definitely high right now-”

“Nobody is willing to become our patron.”

Mel meets Viktor’s eyes, and sees the frustration burning under his skin. They both know why that is, but it seems that Talis doesn’t.

“You’re asking me to sponsor you.” Straight to the point. The sooner they get the logistics over, the sooner they can start working.

Talis nods. “We’ve asked most everyone else.”

“And why didn’t you ask me first?”

Viktor’s eyes narrow (of course he knows the game she’s playing, the one she lives and breathes), and there’s a soft clink as he places his mug down. “Councilor Medarda, with all due respect, your work and areas of expertise do not align with our own. Not to mention you are on the Council. Although letting us try our theory without turning us in was very generous of you, it was one moment. It does not symbolize your beliefs on magic or Hextech.”

Mel hums, thinking about Viktor’s words. He said it well, made his points easily, just like when he was arguing for the independence of the Undercity. She looks at Talis (should she be calling him Jayce? Depends on how this meeting ends), and sees how he lets Viktor speak. They’re a balancing act, she realizes, constantly redistributing talents and values between each other to fit the situation in front of them. Seamlessly, like they’ve been doing it for years.

“Well then.” She starts, mental gears running. She needs to convince them that she’s fully supportive of this endeavor. That she’ll help them out.

She looks at Talis Jayce again, who wears his heart and emotions on his sleeve. Genuine. Maybe here, she doesn’t need to make small, placating lies to weave together the truth.

“If you’ll have me, I can sponsor you, and convince a few others to help out too. I’ve been waiting for a force of change to hit Piltover, and it came in the form of you two. I think that Hextech is going to do immeasurable amounts of good for the people here, and if being your sponsor helps bring that vision into reality, then so be it.”

Talis Jayce is beaming, practically vibrating. Viktor has a small smile on his face, and he laces his fingers together. A glance between him and Talis Jayce, then he turns forwards.

“Councilor Medarda, I believe that this is the start of a beautiful partnership.”

-

The past year and a half have been . . . refreshing, to say the least. She still has all of her previous duties to attend to, making sure trade deals were profitable, dealing with the Council, all of that. Before that revolutionary night, she always had to keep up the carefully crafted mask she made from the first moment she stepped foot into the city. And now?

She feels herself lowering her guard around Jayce and Viktor with each passing month. She doesn’t know if it’s because of Jayce’s unerring kindness (his heart is honestly too big for this world sometimes), or because Viktor can read her better than her own coworkers (who are supposed to be able to do that too, right?). Regardless of the reason, she feels more like Mel and less like Medarda every time she goes to the lab, or one of them comes up to her home.

She goes back to painting.

She hasn’t painted since she was very little, back before Kino left (she stopped trying to send letters). It comes back to her easily. 

She starts small with paintings of the almost mechanical looking butterflies, the Piltovian skyline, the kitchen of her house. 

Then she finds herself painting the beginnings of the Medarda warship. The blood red outline of familiarly shaped sails painted on the blank wall stares at her, tries to burrow into her skin, and she wonders if she’ll ever be able to scrub out the blood that soaked into her pores so long ago.

She takes a shower, and her hand trembles with the effort to keep them from rubbing her skin raw.

She’s eating a light snack when someone knocks on her door. She straightens herself, pulls the fragmenting pieces into a solid, whole picture, and opens the door.

Jayce Talis smiles at her. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“You aren’t.” She tries her best to smile back, and steps to the side. “Please, come in.”

Jayce takes up a lot of space, it’s hard not to when his body is layered with muscle built over years of blacksmithing and hand making every piece of machinery he’s ever used. But it’s more than that. Every room he enters, he radiates an aura of warmth and kindness that fills every corner.

It used to feel overwhelming, now it just feels like safety.

The door clicks shut, and she turns to see Jayce playing with his faded leather bracelet. He’s avoiding looking at her, shifting his weight from foot to foot. It’s not often Jayce is this visibly nervous, but never has it happened without Viktor there to help.

“Is . . . everything alright?” Mel asks hesitantly, not sure how to navigate the situation. “Did something happen?”

Jayce huffs out a laugh, hooking a finger underneath the bracelet and moving it back and forth. “Not- No? I don’t- I don’t think so. I mean, yes, everything is fine. I think. Hopefully. Yes.”

Now that is strange. Jayce doesn’t trip over his words, not even when he’s explaining his Hextech theories at speeds she didn’t know were even possible. Mel gestures for Jayce to follow her, and walks to the dining room where the last few pieces of food sit on a plate. She sits, Jayce following and sitting across from her. He’s still fiddling with his bracelet.

“Why are you here, Jayce?”

He flinches slightly, and Mel thinks that maybe her tone was too harsh, but she can’t take it back.

“I wanted to ask you something, but I don’t know if it’s even okay to ask.” He mutters.

Mel stares at Jayce, eyes slightly widened, thoughts whirling around her head. What could he be wanting to ask for it to cause this amount of anxious energy?

“I hoped that you knew that you could speak your mind around me by now.” Mel says, making sure to enunciate every word. “If not, then I apologize for not ensuring that you did.”

Something in Jayce’s shoulders relaxes, and a part of Mel does too. 

Jayce looks up, smiling a little. “I had an idea last night, after a conversation between me and Viktor.”

Mel raises an eyebrow as curiosity wraps around her chest and begs her to pull out every thought inside his head. “Oh?”

He nods. “Yeah.” His smile brightens, softens, widens, even as his eyes start to burn with passion. “It’s about Zaun.”

-

Mel claps politely as Jayce finishes his Progress Day speech. She watches as he moves slightly offstage, towards where Viktor is most likely standing. An unheard conversation passes between them, and Viktor is brought to the stage. The clacking of his cane echoes through the room as people silence. She’s been waiting for this day since Jayce first brought it up with her. Now it’s going to come to fruition.

“This is Viktor, the other half of Hextech.” Jayce announces, looking around at the people sitting with bated breath. “I wouldn’t even be here without him.”

That’s a strange thing to say, and Mel is close enough to see the clenching of Viktor’s hand against Jayce’s. She sees the way Jayce looks at Viktor with softness and unadulterated love. “My partner in everything.”

A heartbeat, two, three, four heartbeats pass through Mel in slow motion as she waits for what’s to come.

There’s the sound of metal on stone, and Viktor’s taken center stage, eyes gleaming. The way he straightens his perpetually horrible posture, the shift between how he holds himself, and suddenly all the power and attention is his to command. And, barely hidden, his hand stays back to still grasp onto Jayce’s

“Most of you think you’re so good.” His voice is clear and sharp, and he wields it like a blademaster. By helping Hextech grow, you convince yourself you’re pushing Piltover towards a brighter future, when in reality you’re filling your pockets. This brighter future is not for you.” A pause, to let the words sink in. “It’s for my people, those who you’ve so generously pushed aside and down in favor of getting rich.”

Viktor’s grin looks eerily similar to the one Mel used to use around her mother.

“I’ve been trying to go your way, go politically, to ensure that my home and people are given freedom and safety. For a decade, you’ve said no, so the decision is not in your hands anymore.” He looks back for a moment, eyes locking with Jayce’s. Jayce, who had been looking at Viktor almost reverently. He turns back. “The future is ours, it is mine.” The hand gripping his cane tightens. “May the past forever haunt you.”

Viktor leaves the stage, the curtains close, and chaos falls.

-

Mel is shaken awake by Elora.

“What is it?” She asks, seeing how Elora is pale and shaky.

“Councilor Medarda, there’s been an attack against Piltover and the Hextech labs.” She stutters, hands gripping each other tightly. “An emergency meeting has been called.”

With those words, the one emotion Mel thought she had bested decades ago threatens to suffocate her.

Fear.