Chapter Text
Prologue
Justice.
At what price should it be obtained? The lives of the wrongdoers? At the freedom of their protectors? At the cost of her own conscience?
If Caitlyn had learned anything in the four years since her mother's death, it was that she would not get it by holding on to her anger. Which made what she was about to do all the more relevant.
Still, as she stood there, waiting to be called before the newly appointed council to ask for a pardon, she thought how ironic it was that she would be the one to take that step.
"Sheriff," one of the guards came out of the meeting room and called out to her, "they're ready for you."
Caitlyn took a breath, closed her eyes, and as if she was about to fire her rifle, she blinked once and walked in.
As the doors closed behind her, her mind returned to everything that had happened leading up to that moment. And to someone in particular: Vi.
Chapter 1
A year before
The minute Caitlyn woke up in some dark, stingy quarters, with her wrists tied behind her back—bound by a thick rope—she realized just how naive she had been. Someone had kidnapped her only a few blocks from her house.
A sharp pain coursed through her chest with each inhale, burning her throat. Still, she forced herself to breathe evenly. She had to calm down.
The air reeked of salt and damp wooden barrels, of men's stench; it hadn't been mopped in ages.
How long had she been on that ship? Who had been the man that grabbed her? What did he want?
The ship rocked, throwing her off balance, making her dizzy. The barrels rattled against the walls, crunching, obscuring the voices coming from above.
"I need to get out of here," she said to herself as she tried to stand, kneeling first. It was then that she realized her pants had been torn. Whoever dragged her aboard had not been gentle. The ripped skin burned at the contact with the dirty floor. And then, another violent movement of the waters made her fall right back on her hands. "Fuck! Where are they taking me?"
Piltover was a city surrounded by water. To the west lay the lands of Noxus, Shurima, Freljord, and Demacia. To the east, Ixtal, Bilgewater, Ionia, and The Shadow Isles.
Her investigative instincts heightened. Piltover had no conflicts with any of them, but tensions were rising with one, their so-called ally, Noxus. The first thought that came to her mind was that she had lost her diplomacy with Ambessa. She had been defying her advice too much, confronting her with a very particular dismissive tone. But simple disobedience shouldn't have provoked such a response. If this was, in fact, Noxus who captured her and Ambessa was behind it, it was because she had been followed, her plans discovered, and treachery was a mistake the general would not forgive.
Caitlyn looked around. The barrels had no marks, no brands to identify the merchant that her captors had been dealing with. It was contraband, most likely shimmer from the purple stains on the lids.
How long had this been going on under her nose? How many other criminals had been trading illegally from Piltover's ports?
The laughter and chatter of the men above grew louder. Caitlyn pricked up her ears, but they were probably drunk, because their words were impossible to understand. That was until a small chant confirmed her suspicions. One of the many Noxian war songs. She would recognize it anywhere. She had fallen asleep to it in the background of the city streets for years. In fact, she had heard its chords the night before.
Caitlyn Kiramman, commander of Piltover, kidnapped. Not by just anyone, but by her own mentor. And it was obvious; Ambessa had the most to gain from her disappearance. But Caitlyn had been cautious for months. She had taken every precaution. None of it made sense. Ambessa still needed her, unless… something or someone had awakened the general's need to get rid of her.
She thought back to that morning. It had been a strange day. Not everything had gone according to plan. And that might have been where the mistake lay.
She had woken up at the crack of dawn. There was too much to do on the eve of the third anniversary of the attack on the Council Tower that had claimed Viktor's life along with three council members, including her mother. It was also a day that would determine the future of Piltover and Zaun.
Anxious and unable to stay in bed a minute longer, she got up and dressed in her uniform: gray pants and a white blouse. Her jacket was waiting for her in the hall closet. Nothing could seem out of the ordinary.
By that time, the Piltover Times had arrived at the door. She remembered going out to get it and looked around, but saw nothing suspicious. She picked it up and opened it on her way to the dining room. Hidden inside was the Zaun's news publication. It had been smuggled in by a boy she paid regularly. Its three yellow pages still held the warmth of the morning sun. She unfolded them carefully so as not to tear them. They were thin and had been printed only a few hours ago.
Another Prisoner Dies of Starvation at Stillwater
With this one, fifteen men and women had decided to go on a hunger strike over the past three years to demand justice. Not one of them had even been granted an audience. She had only learned of their deaths by reading that same publication. It didn't matter that she was the highest chief of Piltover; there was information that was strategically kept from her. Even after she demanded transparency from the bailiff, she received no update on the conditions of the prisoners other than that everything was being done according to the law. But each loss added to her guilt. Fifteen Zaunite lives, fifteen failures on her conscience.
Tips for Passing Inspections Smoothly
Among them: not to display blue hair, not to eat in line, not to carry photos of their relatives in their pockets so as not to endanger them, not to hum songs that could be mistaken for political anthems, not to carry books among their belongings, not to have more money in their pockets than necessary or they would be considered thieves.
The list went on, updated each week to protect the Zaunites from abuse by the Noxian military that invaded their streets.
She flipped to the last page. The secret Zaun rebel seal had been stamped in the corner confirming her date. She sat down and put the paper away. Her appetite was gone. The steam from her tea cup danced in front of her as the toast grew colder, her eyes focused on the strawberry jam served on a tiny plate. And then Maddie's voice pulled her from her thoughts.
"Are you coming?"
Normally, Caitlyn wouldn't have let her stay the night, but lately, she couldn't shake the need for comfort. She missed someone to be gentle and warm with, someone to have the illusion of protecting. She had been feeling powerless under the constant violence and oppression imposed on her people, and Maddie was convenient. Caitlyn's political status didn't allow her to go out and mingle with just anyone. Not that she wanted to date—the idea was futile, she had too many responsibilities as commander of Piltover to bother with things like that—but the voices in her head had grown too loud over the years to ignore.
What would her mother think of her loneliness?
Before her death, Caitlyn hadn't had a chance to talk to her about Vi, but given how things had gone with Jinx, she thought the most likely reaction Councilwoman Cassandra Kiramman would've had to that relationship would've been a negative one. Maddie, on the other hand, was the daughter of a prominent physician, not noble enough to deserve the title of House but close enough to be the accepted choice. She would've reflected positively on Caitlyn's arm. Besides, Maddie was part of her trusted crew; she understood the job, the stakes. There was support and comfort in her that Caitlyn couldn't find anywhere else.
"Cait? Are you coming?" Maddie insisted, stepping closer to brush a light kiss against Caitlyn's cheek.
The gesture irritated her. Her vulnerability disappeared after sex, and she didn't want to deal with those signs of affection or the confusion that seemed to be growing in her subordinate. They had no romantic relationship. Kissing, bringing flowers to her desk, laughing, or holding hands were unnecessary.
"I'll see you later," Caitlyn replied without looking back; the clock read 6:40 a.m. "I have a few things to sort out here, and then I have an audience with the workers union."
Maddie frowned but didn't argue. A gesture that now seemed suspicious.
Could it have been her? Had Maddie noticed what she had been reading? Had she said something to Ambessa?
Maddie had left without comment. Caitlyn remembered straining her ears until she heard the soft sound of the front door closing and finally felt free to breathe. But the silence of the Kiramman house was too noticeable. It had grown heavier and heavier, pressing against her chest.
Like a magnet, her feet carried her into the study, her mother's office while she worked at home. Caitlyn didn't have any unfinished business there. She just wanted to spend a few minutes alone with her memory. She hesitated for a moment before entering. There was a vague sense of strangeness after looking at the place for too long. Everything that was natural started to become foreign. There were too many books on the shelves, and countless documents and notes had remained untouched on the desk since her mother's death. For a moment, the idea of cleaning it up didn't seem so wrong anymore. But she didn't have time to think about it too much. Giving her a fright, her father walked past her with a bouquet of violets in a vase—his wife's favorites—set them on the table and hurried to open the window.
Caitlyn was startled, immediately catching the scent of the flowers.
"Are you okay, Cait?" he asked.
She wanted to answer but was rendered speechless when a petal fell, swinging in the air until it reached the ground. The absence of her mother hit her again.
The thought arose from time to time. How awful it had been that they had wasted the last years of her mother's life in a rift. They had similar characters and a sense of justice and duty, but their approach was so different that they clashed constantly. As a teenager, Caitlyn absorbed the teachings of her grandmother, who had always told her that while adhering to the law, it was more important to stand up to injustice than to wait for those in power to set things right. Her mother, though with that same sense of morality, had become a politician to protect the people from further injustice. But now that they were both gone, Caitlyn found it difficult to strike a balance. To rule as her mother would have or to protest with the people as her grandmother had done in her youth.
We must lead with kindness and empathy, Caitlyn.
That constant phrase her mother used to say when she was a child popped into her mind. The memories were overwhelming, too much for her to handle.
"Cait?"
"Yes, yes, I'm okay, dad. I'm late for work. See you tonight." She turned around before tears filled her eyes.
After her mother died, her relationship with her father had changed. The closeness that had often bordered on friendship was now affected by the emotional distance Caitlyn had imposed on everyone, deepening her recriminations against herself. The isolation had turned her into a suspicious, calculating, cold woman. She no longer recognized who she had become, or even the city in which she had grown up. The streets now hummed with a symphony of marching boots on the cobblestones, a constant reminder that martial law was still in effect. Stores that had once displayed bright colors, ribbons, and signs now had iron bars in their windows. Merchants had made it a practice to lock up their goods for protection. People had become cautious, fearing another attack, a revolution that could bring more violence and death.
Ambessa had assured her that things would change in time and that the city would relax once Jinx was captured. But it was that very detail, her failure in the pursuit of her mother's killer, that made Caitlyn feel too inadequate and insecure. All she could do to calm people's fears—and her own—had been to reinforce the cells of Stillwater. The place had become more of a fortress than a prison, holding hundreds of Zaunites who had dared to rise up and protest. She could still hear the roar of the reinforced steel doors closing behind her on the day the renovations were completed. But no matter how many layers of security she added to the place, it didn't stop the unease growing among the Piltovians. The Noxian soldiers were imposing, ruthless, and had gradually become aggressive with them.
Caitlyn glanced at her watch. Punctuality was always important—something she had always agreed with her mother on—it was a sign of respect. But she was already late. She quickened her pace, careful not to draw attention to herself—the same reason she had changed her clothes—it was important to go unnoticed in the crowd. Her blue hair was pulled back under her hood, and her hands were in her pockets, one of them playing with the spinning top she was carrying. No one should have recognized her, at least not in the undercity.
When she arrived at the bathysphere, the cart's display screen showed four minutes until departure. She handed the operator her ticket and sat down by the window in the back. From there, Zaun looked like an endless city. It had so many levels that she didn't even know how many more were hidden under the last one visible.
"What are you doing here, Sprout?"
She was startled by the familiar voice, held her breath, then turned to confirm Jayce's presence, sitting right next to her.
"What are 'you' doing here?" she whispered, looking around discreetly. Fortunately, only two other people were in the cart, and they were busy looking out their respective windows.
"I saw you looking suspicious, walking down the street on the opposite way of the Council Tower, so I followed you."
"You shouldn't have!"
"I was worried."
"Of what? I can take care of myself."
"Really? In Zaun?"
"I have a business to attend to."
"What business could you possibly have down there, Cait? That place is dangerous—"
"Look!" She challenged him to shut up. "You should leave. This thing is about to take off and… you're going to give me away."
"I'm not letting you go alone."
Caitlyn huffed, calculating whether she should cancel her plans and get out of the cart herself. If she was found out, it would cause a lot of political problems, not only for her. But in an instant, the bathysphere closed its doors, and a green light came on, indicating that it had begun its descent.
"You could have at least worn something less… official!" She accentuated her frustration even in whispers.
Jayce took a good look at her. He had never really seen her dressing so casual out of her home. He rolled his eyes. Caitlyn's characteristic punishing frown had always had that effect on him. He moved forward, took off his jacket with a swiftness Caitlyn had never witnessed before, turned it around, and put it back on.
"A reversible jacket?" she asked, surprised. Had Jayce started developing modern clothing along with his Hextech inventions? "Interesting."
"Now, where are we going?" he replied, getting back to the subject.
"I will tell you, but this is not the place. Follow me along, but do not intervene, understand?"
He agreed, although Caitlyn was sure he wouldn't be able to comply. After losing Viktor to what he called 'violent Zaun criminals,' he had sworn to always be on the defensive when it came to his friends, despite Caitlyn now occupying a rank higher than he ever had.
He remained silent the rest of the way. When they arrived, she let the other people inside of the cart go out first, then signaled for Jayce to do the same. She was aware of the looks they would get if they seemed too friendly, so they walked the streets with Jayce half a step behind her; around alleys and blocks, between walls filled with Piltover government posters, all graffitied—especially her face—written over with words she would rather not focus on. The district looked worse than the last time she had been there. More people begging for money, more purple veins everywhere, more children without smiles hiding in the shadows at the sound of military orders. That, Caitlyn realized, had also increased.
They ventured into another zone, too hidden to worry Jayce.
"Cait, maybe we should leave—"
And then, a slicing sound flew by, getting in front of them with a green flash, forcing them to stop.
"Hold it!" Scar stepped down from his hoverboard. "You can wait here." He walked to the tunnel entrance and whistled, the echo extending so far it seemed endless. "You were supposed to come alone."
Jayce didn't take the tone too well. He stepped in front of his friend just in case the man turned violent, an action that wasn't appreciated by Scar.
"I had no other choice."
The firelight turned to the tunnel. His foot tapped on the floor with a desperate rhythm.
Topsiders were not trusted, no matter who they were, not anymore. This audience was only taking place because of the urgency of the matter and the trust Caitlyn had personally earned with Ekko years back.
"I should've known you were bringing a bodyguard this time." The man himself came out riding his hoverboard. Ekko approached them slowly, making Jayce tense up. He took a step back, arms outstretched to shield Caitlyn.
"Relax, Jayce. This is a peaceful meeting," she told him.
Ekko stepped down from his hoverboard and walked close to them, taking out his mask. "This wasn't part of the deal."
"I know, I'm sorry. He won't become a problem. Let's talk."
"What's going on?" Jayce asked, confused by the camaraderie between them.
"Wait here. I won't be long," Caitlyn replied, but Jayce wasn't going to let that happen. She wasn't giving one more step without him.
"No. You either tell me what is going on or—"
"Fine!" Caitlyn stopped him from making a threat that could endanger her negotiations. "Ekko, we can trust him," she said, forcing Jayce to lower his defenses as she stepped in front of him. "He is… my best friend."
Ekko looked at him, his nostrils fuming. Jayce Talis was known in the undercity for having imposed awful restrictions and condemning any approach to technology, leaving Zaunites more exposed to gases and dangers they could simply avoid by developing their own devices. He looked at her, looked at him. With each passing minute, Caitlyn was putting herself in more danger and he knew it. He made a gesture to Scar, who came with blindfolds to put over Jayce's and Caitlyn's eyes.
"Absolutely not!" Jayce protested but saw how Caitlyn only stepped forward to be covered and guided to Scar's hoverboard, leaving through the tunnel. "Wait!"
Ekko stayed behind with Jayce, convincing him to wear the blindfold, otherwise he wouldn't have joined her in his workshop. Caitlyn had already taken some documents out of her bag when they arrived.
"This is my offer. I think you'll find it fair."
"We'll see." Ekko picked up the papers and slowly went through them, while Jayce walked astonished at the amount of inventions and plans on the walls and the tables. Parts of ingenious pieces, artifacts not only to improve living conditions, but also to help medically, in common work, even toys. He lost himself in reading the blackboards, passively listening to their conversation.
"The liberation would be immediate?"
"Yes, all prisoners who are not involved with the chem-barons or mafia groups will be released from Stillwater first thing. Then we can begin the economic sanctions against the industrialists."
"Are you sure it will work?"
"If they want to keep their businesses in Zaun, they will comply with the new rules: either they invest in the undercity, or taxes will increase dramatically to allow the government itself to fund the necessary reforms."
"Good, good," Ekko continued to read, flipping through the pages. "I think we can still make some changes, like having our own enforcement offices run by Zaunites. We can't be afraid to leave our homes anymore. We need people who care about our safety, people who understand our struggles."
"It's all in there. A plan to create a law enforcement academy in Zaun. But I also want to implement sensitivity training to the topside, because we can't be divided forever. Eventually we have to integrate as a city before I can reinstate the council with three Zaunites and three Piltovians to guarantee fairness."
"You are planning an alliance?" Jayce reacted as he heard his friend's intentions.
"More of a truce," Ekko clarified, this was not a clean slate, it was an agreed start, always with restoring Zaun's tranquility and good living in mind.
"Whether you like it or not, if you want Zaunites on the council, a political alliance with the elite must be made," Jayce insisted. "And you'll need a seventh-seat or—"
"Or nothing," Caitlyn interrupted him. "Zaun is the hardworking backbone of Piltover. The fact that they have been exploited for centuries, enduring miserable conditions at the benefit of the merchants' vaults, does not disqualify them from integrating into the political process. They deserve the seats, and they will have them when 'I' reinstate the council. If the upper-class doesn't like it, they can move to Noxus."
"This is official," Jayce said, his tone decaying after seeing the papers in Ekko's hands with Piltover's official seal and signature. The agreement was legally binding. He had realized that she and Ekko had done this before, talked about a radical change, but for how long? "Cait—"
She shot him a look, reminding him that he shouldn't intervene.
"We can agree to this," Ekko said, leaving the document on the table. "But you know that we can only support you when you make your move against Ambessa."
"It won't be easy, but I'll handle it. What I need from Zaun now is to stand with me through this, because if I fall with her, this offer will be burned over my ashes."
"I'll do my part here, you have my word."
Both parties were satisfied now that every demand had been met. Securing Zaun's support wasn't an issue for Ekko with the agreement in hand. All that remained was for the revolution to begin, and that would only happen once she lit the match.
"We'll keep our channels open for your instructions."
They shook hands, even though Ekko wasn't the type to be so formal, but this agreement required the seriousness of the action.
"Cait!" a little four-year-old boy called her, excited to see her and ran to give her a hug. Davi—Scar's son—loved when she was around. Caitlyn usually brought him something, a small toy, a children illustrated book, or candy.
"Hey!" She welcomed him in her arms, pulling out of her pocket the spinning top. "Here, to replace the one you lost last time."
He took it in his hands, his smile growing as he admired the vibrant colors. It was nothing like the one it replaced—bigger, brighter. He spun it on his hand, letting the light shine off its surface, then eagerly held it up for his father to see.
"What do you say?" Scar asked him.
"Thank you, Cait!"
"I hope you like it." She caressed his head fur and winked at him.
Jayce was startled by the exchange. Caitlyn had never been one to socialize, especially with children, but this one seemed to have won her heart. He turned back to Ekko, who had been vigilantly watching him the whole time. Jayce offered his hand, hoping that the action would help ease the tension. Ekko didn't take it.
"You still have to prove yourself."
Jayce looked around again. He seemed impressed with the ingeniousness of the man before him. He had that nostalgic look from when he thought of Viktor. "I'll admit you have an amazing mind, Ekko. Please understand, Caitlyn is my family, and this encounter concerns me."
"Jayce—" she intervened, thinking her friend was getting out of line, but she was suddenly interrupted by Ekko.
"We all know the risks Caitlyn is taking. Over the past year, she's shown her commitment to making things right. She's protected us, warned us of attacks, sent us medicine and supplies. My people have suffered enough, and Caitlyn is making sure we're safe, not just today, but in the future. That's something we value. Even with all the mistakes she's made and the pain she carries from her loss, she's proven to be on our side, and we stand with her."
Jayce nodded. "I appreciate that. But I remain concerned."
"You should. We have seen Ambessa's advances in the lanes. She will destroy us all if she is allowed to move forward, Piltover and Zaun."
Jayce turned to his friend, but Caitlyn was resolved. There was nothing else to do. "We won't let her," he said, returning to Ekko. "You have my word and support."
Caitlyn thanked him. She would've wanted to explain how hard she had fought to persuade the Zaunites to reach an agreement, how many battles she had lost with herself and her pain before coming to the conclusion that it was the right thing to do, but she couldn't. They had to go back to lower the risk of exposure.
"We'll give you a ride out." Ekko offered, bringing the blindfolds back. "Be careful."
Caitlyn said her goodbyes, as did Jayce, and they returned to the surface in complete silence. However, she didn't miss the tension emanating from her friend. He had finally grasped the weight of her decisions and the size of the target on her back if this got out.
It hadn't been him who had given her away. She was sure. Jayce would never betray her.
She recalled his clear distaste for Ambessa Medarda, the discomfort that was palpable whenever her name was mentioned. He had shared with her his suspicions about Ambessa's role in Mel's disappearance. Caitlyn remembered the frustration evident in his words when the Noxian general had made her commander of Piltover.
'That woman can be suffocating, Cait, dangerous. Be careful how deep you let her in.'
"Come by this afternoon. We'll talk." Caitlyn told him at the door of her house after their tour through the undercity. She needed to change clothes again, get ready to reincorporate into her workday and make their previous encounter go unnoticed. Jayce understood and walked away. Privacy was needed for such a conversation, and he could wait until later.
She arrived at her office on time but spent the rest of the day lost in her thoughts. The voices of those she met came and went, fading into an indistinct murmur. None of it was important enough to register. Her gaze remained fixed on the latest Piltover emblem hanging in the conference room for hours. Ambessa had strategically chosen a design that blended the old Kiramman crest with the insignia of the Noxian army. A symbol that every officer wore on their uniform, herself included.
"You are too stressed," Maddie told her later that night, giving her a shoulder massage. She had arrived just as Jayce left with all his questions answered. "You need a couple of days off."
Maddie wasn't mistaken. Caitlyn was tired and missed the days when she could lie on her bed and listen to music without thinking about the guilt that had begun eating away at her.
Every night she thought about her ancestors' projects. Her grandmother's, her mother's. All of their designs had been developed with the interests of the Zaunites in mind, yet she had ruthlessly used that same ventilation system as a weapon against them to no avail. The only thing she had accomplished in the first six months of her campaign was to increase the hatred of the lower districts, and not without reason.
The use of The Grey to find Jinx ended the day when one of Zaun's newspapers published a morbid note listing the names of the children and elderly who had been found dead in the streets or floating in the river. All were presumed to have been poisoned by the gases she had ordered to be released. Her heart broke. She had not anticipated the widespread effect of the toxin. Her hatred for the person who took her mother away was such that it blinded her. That same day, she gave the order to disband the Hellfire squad. The use of The Grey, illegal.
It wasn't inconceivable that one of Zaun's leaders, aware of her negotiations with Ekko, had accused her to Ambessa in hopes of some reward. Money, perhaps, or in exchange for someone imprisoned in Stillwater; maybe just for revenge, payment for her actions.
"Come to bed, you need to sleep."
Looking at Maddie had made her feel inadequate in a way she hadn't before, as if that bedroom wasn't where she should be. Maybe it was because her plan had reached a crucial point, or because Maddie wasn't filling her role anymore. She wasn't the one she needed next to her. The place she had occupied in that bed countless times wasn't hers, and suddenly, Vi—lying on top of it—popped into Caitlyn's mind.
"I'm going out. I need to walk."
"It's late."
"I need the air," Caitlyn insisted, putting on a coat.
"Then let me go with you—"
"No!"
Maddie looked at her surprised by the denial in Caitlyn's tone.
"I just want to be alone for a moment. I need… to feel the wind on my cheeks. I'll be back."
Maddie nodded and let her go.
She closed the gates and started walking. The anticipation of the confrontation with Ambessa made her chest tighten with every breath, as if she were trapped in her head with her secret. Anxiety crept into her thoughts, desperate for everything to end so she could be free, wishing to have no complications to solve, to be just another one of her people, not a commander, not a Kiramman, just Cait.
Cait, she's a child!
It's her blood in your veins!
Then why are you the one acting like her?
Promise me you won't change.
I won't.
Caitlyn walked aimlessly, the memories ringing in her ears as if she had just heard them. She turned a corner, walked for another three blocks, and turned again. Suddenly, the air turned colder, a biting wind began to blow. She closed her coat, regretting not putting on gloves—her fingers hurt—when the soft crunch of footsteps behind her sent a chill down her spine.
It's nothing, just walk. It's just a passerby.
She tried to convince herself, but her pulse quickened as the footsteps grew louder. The shadows under the lampposts moved as the crack of boots forced her to quicken her pace, but immediately someone covered her mouth and lifted her off the ground.
She had been foolish to believe that she could just take a walk at night, or that she had the right to behave so carelessly.
"Enough, commander," a deep voice growled next to her ear.
Caitlyn screamed against the man's hand. Her voice was muffled enough that no one could hear her. She kicked and twisted. Her elbow slammed on his side, hitting something solid. The man grunt in pain, grabbing her harder, lifting her shirt up her stomach by the struggle. And then, the cold pressure of a blade against her ribs froze her movements.
"Stop fighting or I'll gut you like a whump!" he threatened, tightening his grip even more. Caitlyn started feeling the pressure of his arms strangling her body. All she could think of was her parents' faces, their concern, their voices.
Keep calm. Think, Caitlyn. Be smart.
The only way to get out alive was to listen to the man, to breathe, to take in all the information she needed to get back from wherever she was being taken. But he was smarter than her. The last thing she remembered before waking up hours later was a damp cloth over her face that smelled of alcohol.
Four days.
That's how long it would take to reach Rokrund, the closest Noxian harbor. From there they would probably take her to Drekan, a small town close enough to The Immortal Bastion—the capital of Noxus. They could hide her there. The journey would take about a month by land. In that time, Noxus could take over Piltover. Ambessa could demand Jayce to start developing Hextech weapons. Something Caitlyn had refused to do, no matter how insistent the general had gotten.
It was that detail that had led Caitlyn to start looking for a deal with Zaun. Ambessa's determination to take radical action in the lanes wasn't aimed at keeping the peace on the topside, but at creating an environment that would raise tensions to the point of actual war, where those weapons would be needed. Since then, Caitlyn had grown increasingly wary of the woman who had become her mentor since her mother's death. Those tactics, those hidden agendas, were not what Cassandra Kiramman would have wanted as her legacy, much less for her only daughter to be manipulated in that way. Caitlyn should've broken their alliance years ago. She had let time pass by without questioning Ambessa's motives in pursuit of her revenge and now she was on a ship to a strange land.
Once again she tried to break free from her bonds. She couldn't. Dark thoughts came over her as she realized she was completely alone among a group of brute men.
Four days.
How long would it be until someone noticed her absence?
Would they know she had been taken or assume she fled?
"She's awake, captain!" The man, who had apparently been watching her said, stumbling to the ground and landing right on his face. He was completely drunk.
"Commander," said a robust goon coming down from the deck. She recognized his voice. He was the same man who had kidnapped her, a giant. "Good to have you aboard."
